“I know this is probably a little shocking, but it’s something we’ve always wanted to experience, and we think you’re the one, Miss Cooter. How do you feel about getting double-stuffed?”
Her jaw drops and she turns from Jerome to me. I’m enjoying her misery way too much.
“Double the pleasure, double the fun?”
“This...this is what you two idiots were buttering me up for? Holy fuck. I need some air.” She gets up from her chair, ready to run away, and from the looks of it, never return. “I-I need to go.”
Jerome and I both burst into maniacal laughter. I grab her arm to keep her from leaving and pull her into my lap, burying my face in her neck until I can speak. “You should see your face right now,” I howl.
Her elbow flies back, jabbing me in the chest. “What the fuck is wrong with you? I hate you both so much.”
“Calm your tits,” Jerome says, “we’re just fuckin’ with ya.”
Val tries to move from my lap, but I’m not convinced she isn’t planning to haul ass as soon as she’s free, so I tighten my grip. “What we were really planning to ask before Jerome got a little carried away is if you would consider moving in.”
Her body relaxes against mine. “You want me to live here? In this house...with the two of you?”
“Uh, yes?” Isn’t that what I just asked her?
She’s quiet for a moment then, as if we’re not waiting on pins and needles for her answer, she hops up and walks over to the stove. Grabbing the oven mitts from the counter, she pulls the oven open and lifts the lasagna pan out. Before setting it on the trivet, she wafts the pan under her nose, taking a long sniff. “This looks and smells amazing, boys.”
Jerome and I give each other confused looks as we watch her dish out our plates and carry them over to the table one by one.
As if nothing is untoward, she breaks off a piece with her fork and brings the bite to her mouth, blowing on it before sliding it off with her teeth.
“Mmmm,” she moans. “Oh God. This. Is. Soooooo good!” Her eyes close as she savors the taste. After a few more bites, she looks up, seeing that neither of us has touched our food. “Uh, are you two just going to sit there and watch me eat?”
“Yes. That was really fucking hot, Miss Cooter,” Jerome replies. “Can you do it again?”
“Would you fucking stop,” I growl, kicking him in the shin under the table. “I’m so sorry, baby,” I say, turning to Val. How did this night turn into such a fucking disaster? There’s no way she’s going to agree to live in this circus.
Loud laughter bellows from deep within her chest.
All I can do is stare at her. I have absolutely no fucking clue what is happening anymore.
“This is going to be so much fun,” Valerie chimes, coming down from her laughter.
“Wait...is that a yes?”
“Of course I’ll move in. I just had to make sure the two of you hadn’t been abducted by aliens first. Please don’t ever change to try to impress me.” Her hand reaches across the table for mine.
“You’ve got it, pretty girl,” I say, lifting her hand and bringing it to my mouth for a kiss.
“Who made the veggie lasagna?” she asks, eyeing the two of us.
I can’t lie to her. “We uh...Jerome picked it up at a restaurant in Brenner,” I bite my lip, giving her the puppy dog eyes.
“Nuh-uh, Johnson, you ain’t putting all the blame on me.” He turns to face Valerie. “Pete ordered it. I just picked it up and followed his instructions. I take full responsibility for the ménage a trios. That offer, by the way, is always on the table...in case you change your mind.” Fucker. “But the food thing was all him.” He points a finger at me, nodding at Val.
She giggles. “I approve...Now, Pete, take me to bed. And, Jerome?”
“Yes, ma’am?” he asks eagerly.
“Stay the fuck away.”
“Right there. Ohhhh,” Valerie moans, squirming beneath me with one leg curled around my waist and the other resting on my shoulder.
Sweat beads on my forehead as I rock in and out of her wet pussy. When I feel her walls tightening around my dick and her body begin to convulse, I know she’s close.
“Come with me, pretty girl,” I groan, my cock twitching with my impending release. Slipping a hand between us, I begin to rub her clit while sucking the nipple of one of her breasts into my mouth. The barrage of sensations pulls her over the edge.
“Butcher!” she screams, fisting my hair. “I’m coming! Oh God. Oh...I’m coming!”
“I’m coming too!” Jerome shouts from his room on the other side of the wall just as I give one final thrust, exploding inside of her.
Valerie’s hands cover her mortified face. The force of her laughter pushes Johnson out and instantly I want back in. I will never get enough of her.
Too spent to even respond to the idiot in the room next door, I collapse beside my new bedmate, pulling her into the crook of my arm. I trail my fingers up and down her back softly.
There’s a knock at my bedroom door, which we both ignore. “Still better than porn,” Jerome shouts. “So happy you said yes, Miss Val. My dick sends his thanks.” And then he’s gone.
“What the hell did I get myself into?” Val asks, her body shuddering with laughter.
“Are you having regrets?” I ask, pulling her hair back and placing a kiss on her forehead.
“Not a single one,” she assures me. Turning onto her stomach, she rests her breasts on my chest and stares into my eyes. All laughter and jokes aside, I see the love I feel for her reflected back at me, and I suddenly have the courage to say the words that have been sitting on my tongue for weeks.
“Valerie?”
“Yeah?”
“I was right.” Tucking a finger beneath her chin, I lift her face to kiss her plump lips.
“Mmm,” she moans. “About what?”
“Destiny.”
“You know, I think maybe you were.” She yawns, laying her head back down.
“One day a butcher met a vegan,” I say, running my fingers through her long strawberry blond hair. “And then they fell in love.”
Her head pops back up, not missing a beat. “What are you—Did you ju—”
“I’m saying I love you, Valerie Cooter.”
Her eyes well with tears. “I love you too, Pete Johnson.”
THE END
Heather Ohhh is a Cajun girl with a big heart and a passion for romance. Residing with her husband and five sons, she is quite fluent in sarcasm. One spoiled little princess finishes off this brood adding a little drama and sparkle to the mix. Life is chaotic, but she wouldn't have it any other way.
She also writes romance under the name Heather M. Orgeron.
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www.heathermorgeron.com
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Keep reading for the beginning of her newest release, Boomerangers.
T. Torrid Acknowledgements
I’d like to thank a few people who were either directly or indirectly involved with this book.
First up, my author buddy Heather M. Orgeron for indulging in this ridiculous project with me. You’ve been supportive of my writing pretty much from the day I first published, and have become an amazing friend over the years (even outside of Book World). I love you so hard, I want to make out with your face. One of these days, we’re going to finally wind up in the same room together, and Lord help any innocent bystanders when we do. #shenanigans
Thanks to fellow Jersey girl Juliana for an amazeballs cover!! I know I drove you crazy, so I apologize. I hope all the headache was worth it because OMG I love it so much, you sweet, beautiful, magical unicorn, you.
To my betas: Thanks for the rushed read! You always have my back. Some of you are cheerleaders, some of you are harsh critics, some of you fall somewhere
in between. Every word of feedback from each and every one of you is invaluable. Thank you from the bottom of my ass (it’s bigger than my heart).
Thanks to the bloggers! God, I owe my life to you bitches. Thanks for all the enthusiastic pimping.
To my friends and readers: Holy crap. Thank you so much for coming along on this ride. I wrote a book called BANANAS AND DONUTS for fucksake, and look! There you are, reading it! I hope I gave you a giggle or two.
As always, huge thanks and big sloppy kisses to the real-life sugar daddy that lives in my house. Mike, I know the time I spend on my writing is time taken away from our family, and you and the kids have been so understanding in that regard. I love you even more than I love Tastykakes. (That’s saying a lot.)
Lastly, I’d like to thank God, if only to butter Him up so that He’ll keep watch over my children in order to ensure they never stumble upon this book during their lifetimes.
That goes double for my parents.
Praise Jesus!
DOWN THE SHORE
A rock-and-roll romantic comedy.
Livia Chadwick is a photographer by day and a self-proclaimed rock-n-roll junkie by night.
Her dating life is a lackluster parade of evasive jerks and her boss is an unrelenting nightmare of a human being.
What else can a girl do but rent a beach house with her girlfriends and blow off a little steam every weekend?
But hey, she’s from Jersey. Barhopping down the shore all season is sort of mandatory.
All is going according to plan… until she meets Jack.
Jack Tanner is a contractor-turned-musician in a small-town cover band suddenly thrust into the limelight.
He’s already had enough of the rock-and-roll lifestyle, and groupies have never been his thing.
Then again… there’s a gorgeous brunette in the audience tonight, checking him out with the most incredible green eyes he’s ever seen.
She's looking for a fling.
He's looking for forever.
It’s gonna be one helluva summer.
Set in the summer of 1995, DOWN THE SHORE takes the reader on a tour through some of the Jersey shore’s hottest hot spots over one, sleepless, flannel-clad summer.
It’s a look back to a time when the music was groundbreaking, the rock clubs were king,
and bar bands ruled the world.
READ WHEN YOU’RE IN THE MOOD FOR:
Sexy, funny, romantic, and nostalgic.
Turn the page for a sample chapter!
DOWN THE SHORE by T. Torrest
Chapter Four
JACK AND I HAVE to cross over the crowded dance floor in order to shortcut to the other side of the large club. He’s trying to carve out a path for us both when I see him inexplicably reach his hand behind him and blindly grab for mine. I just as inexplicably put my hand in his, and have the oddest feeling as we weave our way through the crowd.
It’s kind of… electric in a weird sort of way. Our palms are flattened against one another’s, our fingers intertwined... It’s as though we’ve performed this act naturally a million times over, not just for the first time one minute ago. The thought has me baffled, but fascinated nonetheless.
Before I know it, he’s led me over to the payphones situated near the restrooms. He gives my hand a quick squeeze before releasing his hold and ducking into the men’s room.
When Jack lets go, I’m surprised at the loss that washes over me. What the hell was that? I don’t even know the guy and he has me sweating from simply holding his hand? I can’t even imagine what holding his dick will be like. I’ll probably pass out.
I spend like an hour digging through the ton of junk in my purse to find the number for the beach house, but it finally appears and I make the call. Even though I’m not in the main part of the club, it’s still loud, and I burrow into the alcove as much as I can while covering my free ear with my hand in order to hear.
Samantha answers.
“Hey, Sammy!”
“Hey. Where are you?”
“Tradewinds,” I shoot back. “Came to see a band.”
“Any good?”
“Yeah, actually. They’re fantastic.”
I glance up to find Jack leaning against the wall having a cigarette, waiting for me. Fuck. He heard that.
“So, I’m going to assume you’ll be spending the night elsewhere?” Sam chuckles at her dig, but it’s not like I can take offense. My girls know me too well.
“Well, yeah, but not because... We ran into Monty. We’re crashing there tonight.”
I thought Jack would’ve headed back to our friends, but instead, he’s just standing there watching me as I talk to Sam. His eyes are squinted as he blows smoke through those delectable lips, practically begging me to suck on them for the next twelve hours or so. Give or take.
“Lucky bitch. Tell him we said hi.”
“I will.”
Before I can get another word out, I suddenly feel the length of Jack’s body pressed against my back. What the hell? It catches me by surprise, to say the least.
He chuckles against my hair as he swipes it away and lowers his lips to the back of my neck, my skin shivering at the touch. The whole time, I’m trying to have a human conversation with Sam, no easy feat while this dark prince is ravaging me from behind. I guess he isn’t planning on wasting any time before getting this party started, and that is just fine by me. I’m more than game.
I snap back to the real world when I hear Sammy taunt, “Well, have fuuun!”
As if that isn’t the understatement of the night. How can a hot rock star against my body be anything but fun? I offer a quick “I’m about to,” before giving Sam a rather abrupt goodbye and hanging up, bracing my hand on the wall above the phone to press my backside against him.
At that, he gives out a snicker and whispers against my ear, “Oh, so you wanna play, do you?”
Oh, hell yeah I do.
There’s an electric current running through my body as he turns me in his arms. He has his hands at my waist, running slowly up and down my sides, and a just-kidding smile playing at his lips.
He might be kidding around, but I most certainly am not.
I take a quick look down the hall before backing him against the wall, sliding a hand up his chest and meeting his eyes. I can see the surprise in his, because he has no idea who he’s dealing with yet.
“Do I want to play? I thought you’d never ask,” I fire back—cheesily, but whatever—watching a sly smile eek across his lips. Lips that I’m about to devour.
I bring my palms around behind his neck, grab a handful of that dark hair in my fist, and pull. He’s taken aback by the aggressiveness, but I don’t wait for him to figure anything out before rising on my tiptoes and meeting his mouth with mine.
His body stiffens at that, obviously caught off guard, but it doesn’t take him long to warm to my advance. Our lips are perfectly matched, our bodies fitting effortlessly against one another’s. I feel his muscles relax as he returns my kiss, and soon enough, everything goes insane.
His hands slide around my waist as he pulls me closer against his body, and well, what do we have here? It seems Mr. Happy has decided to join us.
Jack turns us around to slam my back against the wall, and holy shit, I think I’m going to die. Our lips meet again and there’s a pounding in my ears beyond the blaring music, making me dizzy. His mouth opens, and I can taste his salty, minty flavor, smell the smoky, shaving-cream scent of him, invading my senses, causing me to grip the shirt at his chest and hang on for the ride.
Or maybe I need to take him on one.
I push off the wall and back him through the nearest doorway… which turns out to be a storage closet. But there’s a lock on the handle, so I take advantage of that before kissing him again. The smell of bleach and stale beer is permeating my senses as we touch and taste one another, the heat escalating off the charts.
Just as my hand slips down to cop a feel, he asks, “Hey, whoa. Liv. What ar
e you doing?”
The dark is pretty blinding, but I still manage to meet his face, a scowl on mine. “What do you think I’m doing?”
He grabs my wrist and places my hand at his waist. Trying to cover for my pounding heart, I slide my palms around to the small of his back, up his spine, across his shoulder blades, and go back in for another kiss. His hair is brushing against my cheek as his tongue invades my mouth, and before I can stop myself, a slight moan escapes from my throat.
I’ve been with lots of guys before, but something is different with him and I can’t quite figure out what it is just yet. He’s hot as hell, which is normally my only prerequisite for hooking up with somebody. But this guy has totally upped the ante. He isn’t just a rock star. He is a rock GOD. And from the first second I saw him on stage tonight, I knew I was going to wind up here at some point. Well, not here in a freaking closet for godsakes, but here in this guy’s naked grasp doing the horizontal happy dance.
Or, I guess, vertical, in this case. TMI?
My hands go back to his jeans, ripping at Jack’s fly, but before I can even get the first button undone, he braces his hands at my shoulders and nudges me away. “Whoa, whoa. Take it back some.”
Still in a daze, I ask, “What?”
“This isn’t happening. Not here.”
Since when does a rock star give a shit where I do him? “I locked the damn door. No one’s coming in here.”
“You got that right. No one’s coming in here. We can do better than this.”
Is he serious? He started this whole thing, and now he’s trying to put the brakes on? I’m suddenly struck with the absurd thought that he was only joking around when he attacked me at the pay phones. No freaking way is that possible. Is it?
Food Fight - Final Page 13
