“Only if you hold it against me.”
He’d never brought his day job into the bedroom, but then again, he’d never had so much fun having sex before. And she was fun. Sexy as fuck and fun to play with. To tease. To arouse until she exploded in his arms.
And he was ready for more of that—and more than ready to join her in the release.
Kami did not exercise her right to silence as he added another finger and bent to lick her clit. If he’d thought her wildly responsive before…
She was wildfire under him, and he was ready to pour on the gas.
If her kiss-swollen lips and nipples were his favorite color, the taste of her on his tongue was his favorite flavor and he went back for more.
“I think—” She panted while he sucked on her clit and moved his fingers inside her in a rhythm that drove them both mad. “Isn’t it your sworn duty to serve and protect?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he mouthed around her. She rewarded him with a buck of her hips, a sharp cry, and a rush of sweet desire on his lips.
“Condoms. Second drawer.” She pointed to the table on the other side of the bed. Flung her arm in the general direction was more accurate. Damn, but she gave everything over to her release, and she was beautiful in the afterglow.
“Are you sure?”
She crawled over to him, and, apparently revived from her orgasm, gripped his cock in her hand. “So sure.”
Then her mouth was all over him, tonguing a wicked path down his erection before sucking his head into her slick mouth.
“Aw, God, Kami.” She’d cupped his sac and was massaging him while she bobbed her head up and down. The suction was incredible, and his release was building, gathering low where she held him. “Sweetheart, you’re going to have to stop. Shit, that feels so good.”
She looked up at him and slid her lips up his cock until he broke free from her lips with a wet pop. He bobbed in the air, seeking her mouth again as she ran a fingernail up the underside of his shaft.
“Now there’s a real pretty color.” Kami traced her finger around the crown she’d made wet with her mouth. “Could be my new favorite.”
Jeff grabbed the base of his cock and squeezed his eyes shut, counted fifteen Mississippis to get control again. As if he’d ever had any around her.
And tonight was just the first night. Even if he only had eight or eight hundred more with her, he’d make this one count. If he could see her, maybe he could give her a little credit to see him.
The crinkle of a condom wrapper brought the moment back into focus.
“Get your uniform on, detective, and then you can spend until sunrise serving me.”
“Oh, yes, ma’am.”
Acknowledgments
For L. and the Courageous Ones
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Though the Naughty Neighbors Series is fun to write (and hopefully a lot of fun to read!), there’s a very serious undercurrent in Arouse.
Domestic abuse and intimate partner violence affects more than 12 million people in this country every year. The National Domestic Violence Hotline provides resources for survivors and their supporters online and by phone at 1.800.799.SAFE. If you, or someone you love, is in an abusive relationship, please know there is hope.
About the Author
Olivia Aycock writes romance with an erotic edge. Her characters might be urban sophisticates or have sweet Southern style. But no matter the setting, you can always expect a satisfying ending.
Learn more about the Naughty Neighbors Series at Olivia’s website and sign up for her newsletter for sneak peeks and exclusive content.
@AycockBooks
Other Titles by Olivia…
Available Now
Blaze (Naughty Neighbors 1)
Dare (Naughty Neighbors 2)
Arouse (Naughty Neighbors 3)
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Coming Soon
Burn (Naughty Neighbors 4)
Excerpt from Blaze (Naughty Neighbors 1)
It was one of those late-summer nights when even wishing for oblivion took too much effort. The air pressed in so hot and wet that thinking was too taxing. Breathing, next to impossible.
If death were to come, it wouldn’t be by her own hand.
The air-conditioning unit had gone out approximately seven hours and forty-three minutes ago. And now it was Friday night and all the tricks she knew to play on the fussy old thing had failed, and getting someone out on the weekend had failed too. It was August. During the third consecutive week of one-hundred-degree temps. The last AC repair dispatch operator had suggested she’d have more luck flying in an entire rocket ship full of glacier ice from the moon.
Her apartment was on the second floor of the graceful old duplex. That meant she was closer to the moon, right? So why was her place so freaking hot?
See, impossible to think.
Laurie let her eyes drift closed and meditated on frosty images. A Swiss chalet. A mountain stream in winter. Being buried under a glacier of moon ice.
She sucked in a particularly hot breath and almost choked. A puny misting from the water bottle she’d filled earlier served to cool her for only the moment her ceiling fan evaporated it on her skin. It had been seven hours and forty-five minutes since she’d felt like anything but a disgusting mess.
Too bad she didn’t have hot Friday night plans. Of course, hot wasn’t a word she wanted in her vocabulary right about now.
Maybe she should just suck it up and book a hotel room.
She’d spent a good hour looking at prices online earlier in the afternoon, about three o’clock when temperatures hovered around 102 and she’d been almost willing to put a dent in the nest egg she’d been working so hard to build back up after buying out her brother’s share in the duplex.
But knowing that, come Monday morning, Laurie would have to bite the bullet and replace the piece of crap air-conditioning unit, she couldn’t justify two hundred dollars for a night at the Omni. And even eighty bucks at the skeevy place by Love Field was too much to spend. No, she’d just lie here with her trusty ceiling fan, a spray bottle of water, and meditate on the luxury of cool.
Lord help her if the electricity went out, too.
It was quiet without the ancient AC unit running nonstop, though through her open window she could hear the soft whir of the other unit. It had been replaced last summer. She now regretted the frugal and prudent decision to not replace them both at the same time. Laurie gave a brief thought to using the master key and hanging out in her downstairs tenant’s still cheerfully air-conditioned apartment. She spent a somewhat longer time thinking about the ice maker her brother had installed in the kitchen in the last renovation. And that king-sized bed she’d seen the movers lug in took up an extra-large space in her fantasy. Just think of all those miles and miles of cool cotton to roll on.
Maybe she could—
No. Grant Everton didn’t strike her as the accommodating type. In fact, in the weeks since he’d moved in, they’d exchanged possibly fourteen sentences in passing. Most of them at their siblings’ wedding last month. Most of them hey, how are you? Good. Good, I’m good, too. Good.
Did it count as conversation if they just said the same words to each other over and over again?
And even if they’d been on the best terms, she wouldn’t dream of violating his privacy—and the rental agreement—by going into his apartment without cause.
Although maybe she should check his AC filter just in case.
Curses, he wasn’t even home to enjoy the perfection of chilled air. Probably wouldn’t be home tonight at all. He seemed to be a fan of working late. And by working late, he was probably working some graceful, statuesque blonde over while the steady whir of her penthouse apartment air conditioning brought chill bumps to their sweat-slickened bodies.
She’d feel the heat of his lips feasting on the soft underside of a breast, a kiss of wet heat followed by a lick of—
Okay, no. Nope. Not going to happen. Laurie was most certainly not
going to fantasize about that. Was definitely not going to let her hand wander down a body slicked by the non-sexy kind of sweat and wallow in the center of her heat.
If it was too hot to breathe, it was too hot for that.
And certainly not to fantasies of her new neighbor! A sort-of-kind-of-not-really-but-almost relative. When her brother married his half-sister, what did that make them?
People who barely spoke to each other. That’s what it made them.
Laurie peeled herself off her bed and moseyed into the bathroom. Mr. Rochester had claimed a coolish spot draped over the lip of the old cast iron tub. He peered balefully at her through his one seeing eye.
“Well, you’re just going to have to move or get wet,” she said to the big grey beast, leaning over to turn the lever entirely to the right and push in the stopper. No sense in messing with a shower again. The three quickies she’d taken already today clearly hadn’t done much to cool her. She drew a bath and plunged herself in before it had filled halfway.
The water was cool…ish. Texas ground water was never truly cool after a summer of skyrocketing temperatures, but if she moved her legs every so often, a pocket of cool water would fill the space. A kind of flip-side-of-the-pillow effect. Probably placebo. But it worked. Even if it hurt her to think how much water she was wasting.
But dying of heatstroke would kind of be a waste, too.
Tipping her head back, she imaged ice baths. Or just ice cubes. Melting, dripping, cooling and pooling on her hot skin. Starting at her temple, easing down her cheek, anointing her lips with a kiss of frost before a hot mouth licked and sucked at her full lower lip.
A thumb would rub the moisture away, beckoning her to open her lips, and a sliver of ice would replace its intrusion. A quick swallow and then a duel of tongues, numb to everything but pleasure. Such pleasure there would be in an ice cube held aloft by a strong hand, a thumb and forefinger guiding its path down, down, down—
Laurie came up sputtering. Cursing. Terrorizing poor old Rochester with a tsunami of bathwater. Okay, this was getting completely out of control if she was taking a trip back to fantasyland while in the tub.
Clearly she wouldn’t be satisfied until she was, um, satisfied.
She was already perspiring after a naked walk from the bathroom back to her bed, and way too keyed up over her bath-time imaginings, so she might as well do something about it.
Something that required next to no effort.
She opened her nightstand drawer. “Ah yes, hello, purple one.”
Once upon a time she had laughed at the vibrator, part of a sample basket vendors at a bridal show had been given to cross-promote. Because what her burgeoning upscale events planning company really needed was a referral from a sex-toy company. Uh huh.
But she wasn’t laughing at the purple wonder now. No, she wasn’t laughing at all. Without much direction from her, it found just the right spot to make the sauna of her bedroom disappear, to make visions of sparkling light appear at the outermost corner of her mind.
“Mmmm, yes.” She dipped it down to tease her opening, gathering up her slick arousal, and brought the tip back up over and around her clit. “Yes, so good.”
She pressed a button and the pattern switched from a low, persistent buzz to an intermittent thump.
When she closed her eyes, she didn’t see stars, but she did see Grant. His face above hers. Imagined his fingers lazily sweeping over her breasts, circling around and around her taut nipples, but never quite giving them the attention they deserved. She’d cry foul, and he’d smirk in some truly naughty way, but then his head would work miracles down along her body. Sucking at her stomach, biting at her thighs. And licking, long, strong swipes of his tongue. There, right where the skin was silky and smooth. He’d lick and probe and make her cry out his name.
Laurie swiped a thumb over the controls, dialing it up higher and higher, placing the tip at the very top of her clit. Ooh, right there, where the thumping vibrations pressed and retreated, the light was growing closer and closer. Shimmering and undulating, building to a beautiful—
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If you enjoyed this excerpt, you can find out more about Laurie and Grant by clicking here.
Arouse Page 5
