Slam Dunk: Black & White Collection

by Mari Carr

  It was over too quickly. He was almost disappointed.

  He lay over Ellie, supporting his weight on his elbows, gasping for air. He opened his eyes when the vibrator stopped moving.

  Ellie smiled at him. “That was incredible.”

  “Too fast,” he said, confessing his frustration.

  “We’ll do it again. And again. And again. I figure it’s just like basketball. We’re going to have to drill like crazy before we get really good at the game.”

  He laughed and kissed her. “I don’t mind drills.”

  She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer as his cock started to thicken once more.

  “I love you, Coach.”

  “I love you too, Hottie.”

  Epilogue

  Overtime

  “It’s about time you guys got here,” Jamie said as Ellie and Trey walked into Tully’s hand in hand. It was the end of another summer and the Cougar Club was together once again.

  Trey grinned and took his usual place at the table, Ellie claiming her spot next to him. “We just got back in town from the beach.”

  “How was your trip?” Grace asked.

  “Terrific.” Ellie held out her left hand. “Trey proposed.”

  Cheryl and Grace squealed loudly as Jamie slapped Trey on the back. “Well, hot damn, bro. Good for you.”

  Ellie laughed as her friends oohed and ahhed over her diamond engagement ring.

  “How did he propose?” Grace asked.

  Trey groaned and Ellie knew he was embarrassed that she might tell the story in front of his macho buddies.

  Jamie gave her a shit-eating grin that told her she wasn’t getting up from the table until she spilled all the romantic details. “I proposed to Grace on the dance floor right here at Tully’s. Don’t think for a minute these guys didn’t give me shit for weeks for my romantic gesture.

  Grace laughed as she leaned over to kiss her boyfriend on the cheek. “Who cares what Trey and Lucas said? It was one of the most beautiful moments of my life.”

  “So spill the details, Ellie. How sappy was it?” Lucas asked, rubbing his hands with glee.

  She grabbed Trey’s hand and gave him a quick, reassuring wink. She lightened the description of mushy stuff for the sake of his male ego. “We were walking along the shore last night. He turned to me and asked me to be his wife. He pulled out the ring and I said yes.”

  What she didn’t say was that it had been sunset and Trey had gone down on one knee. He’d told her she was the most precious person in his world and he couldn’t face a life that didn’t have her in it. She’d cried when he opened the jeweler’s box and taken out the ring. It had been his grandmother’s engagement ring.

  “Sounds kind of lame,” Lucas joked. “Not much ridicule in that.”

  “It sounds wonderful,” Cheryl said. “Always knew when you fell, Trey, you’d fall hard. I have to say I’m glad to see you have such good taste.”

  “By the way,” Grace added, “we’ve added a new song to our playlist. We decided you needed a signature song, Ellie.”

  Ellie laughed. “I’m afraid to ask. What’s my song?”

  Grace raised her hand as the beginning chord played. “This one.”

  Ellie straightened up, then rose quickly, grabbing Grace’s and Cheryl’s hands. “Oh my God. It’s perfect. I love it.”

  The three ladies boogied to the dance floor as the sound of Gloria Gaynor singing “I Will Survive” blasted through the tiny bar. They laughed as they whipped out some awesome disco moves, singing along with the lyrics.

  Ellie loved how empowered the song made her feel. She had been knocked down and hurt, but she’d survived. Trey came out and grabbed her hands, spinning her around, grinning at her crazy antics before throwing in a few hilarious Saturday Night Fever arm thrusts. When the song ended, a slow country ballad started.

  Trey rolled his eyes. “Guess we know whose dollar picked this song.”

  Ellie smiled, moving closer. Trey wrapped his arms around her as they slow-danced. “I like it.”

  Trey tightened his grip. “Looks like the ladies picked you an awesome theme song.”

  She nodded. “Sort of.”

  “Sort of?”

  “I may have been surviving, Trey, but I sure as hell wasn’t living. Not until you came along.”

  He bent down and kissed her. “I love you, Ellie. I always will.”

  His words fired up her soul and her body and a wicked idea hatched. She looked over her shoulder. “Meet me in the bathroom in five minutes.”

  He gave her a sinful grin. “Why? You want a quick sample of my ball handling?”

  She shook her head. “Nope. I want to see you make a slam dunk.”

  About the Author

  Writing a book was number one on Mari Carr’s bucket list and on her thirty-fourth birthday, she set out to see that goal achieved. A winner of the Passionate Plume, Mari finds time for writing by squeezing it into the hours between 3 a.m. and daybreak when her family is asleep and the house is quiet. You can visit Mari’s website at www.maricarr.com.

  Look for these titles by Mari Carr

  Now Available:

  The Black & White Collection

  Erotic Research

  Tequila Truth

  Rough Cut

  Happy Hour

  Power Play

  Learning Curves

  Because of You

  Compass Brothers

  Northern Exposure

  Southern Comfort

  Coming Soon:

  Eastern Ambitions

  Western Ties

  Love’s Compass

  There’s only room at the top for one person…at a time.

  Power Play

  © 2011 Mari Carr

  A Black & White Collection Story

  Back on American soil for the first time in nine months, Reed Donovan is ready to blow off some steam. The beauty he spots at the local bar not only catches his eye, she snags him by the balls when she announces she’s always fantasized about having sex with a stranger—a fantasy he is more than willing to help come true.

  Explosive fireworks over, Francesca rebuffs his invitation to dinner. While the sparks may fly between them physically, she doesn’t believe they could spend more than a few minutes in the same room without arguing. Her suspicions prove correct when Francesca reports for her new position the next morning—and discovers she’s been hired as Reed’s new marketing partner.

  When Reed and Francesca immediately begin butting heads about future pitches to prospective clients, Reed proposes a bet. For the next three presentations, they’ll both make a pitch. Whoever wins the campaign also wins a fantasy.

  The competition is fierce—and hot. And the hotter it gets, the closer they come to the brink of something they never intended…or expected.

  Warning: Wicked fantasies anyone? Up for some sex in public, sex with a stranger, sex in an office, sex in a bar, sex with a Dom, and bondage sex? Good. Strap in and hang on.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Power Play:

  Claiming the empty seat next to her, Reed waved the bartender over. “Hi Joe. I’ll have a Guinness, and get another glass of red for Francesca here.”

  She’d already been looking at him as he ordered, but when he mentioned her name he noticed the slightest narrowing of her eyes.

  “Do I know you?”

  He shook his head. “No. My cousin Carter owns this bar. He mentioned your name to me.”

  She digested that information as he studied her face. She was gorgeous. Now that they were in closer proximity, he was able to spot the slightest amount of her generous cleavage through her blouse.

  “Up here, babe,” she said pointing to her face, when his eyes lingered too far south for a second too long.

  He grinned at her joke. Oh yeah. She was everything his cousin described. Trouble in a thirty-four D cup. Good stuff.

  “So, your cousin suggested that you buy me a drink?”

  “No.
” Reed pointed to where Vivi still sat behind her. “He told me to buy her a drink.”

  Francesca glanced over her shoulder. “Pretty girl. Did you miss your mark? Need me to draw you a map? Help you get over there?”

  “My sense of direction is just fine.”

  She rested her chin on her hand and, for the briefest moment, he wondered what the hell was going on in her mind. Then the bartender returned with their drinks and distracted her.

  She sighed heavily as she looked at the full glass of wine. “I really shouldn’t drink this. I’ve had two glasses already. I have a big day at work tomorrow and attempting it hungover isn’t a good strategy.”

  He grinned. She clearly wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t even sure he’d call her tipsy, but she was definitely enjoying the relaxing effects of the wine.

  “You strike me as the type who can handle her alcohol. And anything else that might come her way.” It was an obvious come on, but he didn’t care. There was something about her that screamed sex…and something else. Some elusive something he couldn’t put his finger on.

  He took a sip of his Guinness. The alcohol was working on smoothing his rough edges too. His neck wasn’t stiff anymore and he was feeling looser, freer from the stress of work.

  She leaned closer, her cheek still resting on her hand. “You know, I’ve always had this fantasy.”

  He moved toward her. Her voice was low, husky, sexy as fuck. “Oh yeah?”

  “Sex with a stranger.”

  Her words hit him like a punch in the stomach and his cock filled the maximum weight recommended for his pants in three seconds flat. There was no way he could adjust them without drawing her attention to his dilemma. Then he grinned and made the adjustment anyway.

  Her eyes followed the motion of his fingers.

  “Up here, babe,” he teased, mimicking her words.

  She laughed. “You’re really Carter’s cousin?”

  “Yep, I’m Re—”

  She cut him off quickly with a wave of her hand. “No. You tell me your name and we stop being strangers.”

  She had a point. And a set of knockers that had him feeling lightheaded.

  Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for broke. “Where do you wanna do this?”

  “Follow me.”

  She rose from her barstool. Reaching down, she picked up her briefcase. “Hey, Joe. Do you mind stowing this behind the bar for me for a few minutes?”

  Joe shook his head. “No prob.”

  She threw her small purse over her head and shoulder, the long strap crossing between her breasts, accentuating the perfection of her figure. She took one of his hands in hers and led him toward the back hallway. Passing by the restrooms, she stepped through the outside door the led to the dark alleyway. While it was empty at the moment, they both knew anyone could walk their way in a moment’s notice.

  Strangely, he liked that idea. He’d never considered himself an exhibitionist. Hell, he’d never taken a woman’s hand and let her lead him anywhere, yet he was following Francesca like a dog on a leash. The feeling, though uncomfortable, wasn’t unbearable. While she might have initiated the starting gate, he had no doubt he’d be driving by the time they crossed the finished line.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting something into his hand. “Put this on.”

  He looked down. She’d handed him a condom. He was equal parts horny and annoyed. Time for the tide to change.

  Stepping closer, he turned her as he walked, pushing her against the wall. “You put it on me,” he demanded.

  For the briefest moment he thought she was going to protest, but then she reached down and started tackling the button and zipper on his jeans.

  He reached up, pushed her jacket and purse off her shoulders, and cupped her breasts. They were full and firm. Perfect. Tweaking her nipples through the thin material of her silk blouse and her bra, he enjoyed the image of her eyes drifting closed, the acceleration of her breath and the slight flush covering her cheeks.

  “My pants,” he prodded, reminding her of her task.

  She opened her eyes and gave him a smirk he immediately distrusted. “Say please.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Take my cock out and put the condom on it, Francesca. Now.”

  Her hands stilled. “Beg me,” she taunted.

  He moved his hands from her breasts to the wall at her back, caging her in, letting her feel his height, his size. It was a power play, pure and simple. She needed to understand that while he let her instigate the game, he was taking over. “Pull up your skirt.”

  She shook her head. “One little word. That’s all you have to say. Say it. Say please.”

  He gritted his teeth. He’d never been denied, never bedded a woman who didn’t play by his rules. “I’m not going to say it. Now, lift your skirt.”

  “No.”

  Reed took a deep breath, tried to calm is ragged nerves. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “No. Have you?”

  Reed rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his bearings. She was screwing with his head, messing with his needs. Fuck it.

  She reached up and let one button loose on her blouse, baring more of her gorgeous cleavage.

  No, he decided, fuck her.

  He reached down to the hem of her skirt and thrust it up, bunching the material at her waist. Yanking hard, he pulled her panties down as she resumed releasing him from his pants. Their actions were frantic, hungry and several times their hands bumped into each other in their rush to resume the fantasy.

  “I’m going to fuck you hard,” he warned. She’d pushed him too far. He’d been a loose electrical wire all night and she’d triggered the spark.

  “Do it,” she demanded. Her hand grasped his hard cock and he sucked in a pained breath. He’d never been this erect, this ready. Jesus. He’d never make it to her cunt if she kept touching him like that.

  Pulling her hand away, he took the condom from her and covered himself in one smooth, practiced move. Lifting her hips, he positioned himself at the opening of her body. Pausing, he realized he was about to take her, take this virtual stranger against the back wall of the bar. They were out in the open, in clear view should anyone venture their way. The idea was heady, the moment one of the most exciting of his life.

  “What are you waiting for?” she prodded. “An engraved invitation?”

  Smartass.

  God, she was fantastic. Fascinating. Fucked.

  All she wants for Christmas is him. All he wants is everything…for her.

  Priceless

  © 2011 Lena Matthews

  Urban Fairytales, Book 3

  As Christmas bears down on Eric Athers’s empty wallet, one question plagues him: What to get the love of his life when he has less than nothing?

  It doesn’t help that his wife, Nia, who works extra shifts to support him through his medical residency, practically glows with holiday spirit. Her determination to put the “Merry” in Merry Christmas only serves as a painful reminder of everything he’s unable to provide for her.

  Nia loves her husband to distraction, and she can’t for the life of her figure out how someone so smart can be so dumb when it comes to something as simple as a little holiday. Christmas is so much more than presents and shopping malls.

  All she has to do is show her own personal Scrooge that the best gifts come from the heart.

  Warning: This story is guaranteed to melt your snowman.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Priceless:

  Eric’s words were so unexpected it took a minute for his meaning to sink in. “Decorate me.” Nia licked her lips, and she took a few steps back. “That sounds a bit…kinky.”

  “Your point is…?”

  Her throat suddenly felt very dry. “Yeah…not sure I have one,” she admitted, still a little floored by Eric’s suggestion. Although he hadn’t been her first lover, he was definitely the most passionate and inventive. “What exactly do you mean though?”

  “What I said
.”

  Nia glanced over at the box on the floor then back at her husband. He couldn’t really mean… “Are we talking star on head, ornaments on nipples, decorate?”

  “Well…” Eric tilted his head to the side, a contemplative look on his face. “Not star on head.”

  But nipples and stuff were apparently fair game. “Oh,” she said after a few seconds, because she really had no comeback for that.

  “Any objections?”

  She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “The hooks might scratch a bit.”

  “Possibly, but I promise to kiss it better.” Without waiting for her to reply, Eric made his way over to the box which held the leftovers. He picked up the box and carried it to the table, setting it down with a resounding thump. Carefully, as was his way, he began to sort through the remaining decorations. “Hmmm…looks like we have lots to choose from.”

  Words escaped her. He was absolutely serious. One second he’d been dogging her tree, the next talking about using her as a tree. Nia shook her head in amazement. Every time she thought she had a handle on her husband he would do or say something completely out of character. Some days she wasn’t sure who she was married to—the focused, studious, determined doctor, or the sensual, dominating, erotic lover.

  Nia was torn between wanting to say hell no, and her desire to do every depraved thing he hinted at. No, that wasn’t true, she wasn’t torn at all. “What about rules? I think we should have them.”

  “Fair enough.” Eric strolled over to the oven. Warm air burst from the door as he opened the appliance, taking a bit of the sting out of the room. They’d learned quickly to use that part of the stove as a heating source when they were in the kitchen. “First rule, I make all the rules.”

  Nia crossed her arms over her breasts, not because she was upset, but in hopes of hiding her nipples, which instantly hardened at his words. “Sounds…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “…like a game we’ve played before.”