120 Mph

by Jevenna Willow

  “You seem to want to take this at a very leisurely pace. But as God is my witness, I do wish you would get to the goods a whole lot quicker!” she blurted.

  Christian stopped his actions, stood up straight, and looked her right in the eyes. “Did you really just say that to me?” He chuckled.

  She nodded firmly. “Yes, Christian. I really did say just that to you. I’ve been locked away from the world for a very long time. I’ve served out my punishment for all my mistakes. I want you in me. I want you making love to me, as my husband. I want to start on our life together . . . and though I can see your every wish is to make this night as memorable as you can, I can assure you, it will be. However . . . I am terribly horny and I do believe I’ve waited long enough to have you.”

  He smiled at her sudden truthfulness. “I would say I’ve waited long enough, as well. But I just thought . . .”

  Sara set a finger to his lips. She followed the movement by leaning forward and sliding her tongue over only his bottom lip. “Just make love to me, Reverend, before I explode,” came quick and unchecked.

  “Is that what you wanted to ask me?”

  His darling bride smiled.

  Christian slid Sara’s gown to her knees. She stepped out of the pool of white silk. He then bent and scooped his wife into his arms, carrying her naked form directly to the bed. The covers already peeled back by the innkeeper’s touch.

  Lowering her to the mattress, he kissed every inch of her. He caressed every inch of her. There wasn’t one single part of Mrs. Christian Mohr he left undiscovered, by either lips or hands.

  There was not one part of this woman he wouldn't love.

  She didn’t pretend this was new, or that they hadn’t done this before. Moreover, he was fine with that so long as he the only man she would ever be with from this moment forward.

  He slipped off the bed, stripped off his clothes, and rejoined his bride within only a few passing seconds.

  As he entered her, Sara’s purrs became pants. Her gentle slide of her fingers over his back turned into deep claw marks into his flesh. For every thrust into her body, she gave back equally to what he gave her. For every kiss set to her lips, she gave him one far better in return. For every sweet word and sensual rapture, Sara responded in check.

  They came together—hard, strong, and fast—as man and wife. What God intended no man be able to take apart, Christian vowed to hold together with every breath he took. He vowed to fulfill every one of God’s wishes to the utmost of his abilities. He never should’ve left Him, but now that he was back, he would never leave again.

  Happy in each other arms, he asked his wife, “Let me know when you are ready to do that again.”

  “Was it that good, Reverend?” she recklessly teased.

  Christian rolled Sara onto her back, hovering directly over her body. “Good?” He gave her a quick, shameless kiss. “I’ll let you know once I’ve had more of you to compare it too.” He entered her again. This time they tried very hard to make it last. Emphasis on the word tried. When a person went at life at nearly 120mph, it was incredibly hard to slow down—if not altogether impossible.

  Hours later, he wondered how things worked to his favor, when nothing else seemed to over the years and he’d always thought life as an uphill battle against his demons.

  “Sara?”

  “Hmmm?” She was sleepy and still smiling.

  He’d never get enough of her smile. Nor get enough of her.

  “I need to ask you something.”

  Sara’s eyes darted open and she became all ears. “Yes?”

  God! Where did one start? He’d be asking this woman in his arms to go back to the one place that hated her and had ruined most of her life.

  Christian drew in a breath. “Would it be hard on you to go back to Preacher’s Bend?”

  She sat up, leaving the warmth of his embrace. “Why are you asking me this now?”

  “I’ve been thinking . . .”

  His wife chuckled. “Without permission, it would seem.”

  Christian’s grin pulled forth. “Yes, without my darling wife’s permission. You’ll have to get used to that.” A quick peck on her lips, he continued. “I’ve been on my own for quite a few years and it’ll take some time getting use to sharing my thoughts.”

  Sara took a deep breath and settled into his arms, placing her hand on his steadily beating heart, her head against his chest. She twirled his chest hairs, simply waiting for the words he needed to say.

  Christian started slow. “I never thought leaving the one place with so many terrible memories for the both of us would affect me as it has. I know I should’ve mentioned this, well before now, but I want to go back.”

  Sara kept twirling his chest hairs, tightening his loins.

  Christian tipped his head down and kissed the crown of golden hair tickling his chin. “You can say ‘no’,” he offered.

  The twirling stopped. “Do you want me to say ‘no’?”

  “I want you to be okay with my decision. We are a partnership now. If going back there will make you . . .”

  “Christian, I’ll be fine with whatever you decide for us. I’m certain there have been enormous changes in Preacher’s Bend, people who won’t judge so harshly anymore. I can find a friend, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  He couldn’t help but feel her pain. She’d had no one when he’d met her.

  “Sara, if we go back and I take up my old job, can you see yourself as the minister’s wife? Take the stares? The pointed fingers?”

  “I’m a reformed prison chick, darling. I should be able to handle a few measly stares.”

  Her jest wasn’t at all amusing.

  He tipped her chin up and kissed her soundly to wipe away the bitterness. “I do love you. Never, for one second, doubt this, sweetheart.”

  Sara scooted higher up the bed and kissed him more firmly. “Well, I love you equally, and never for one second should you ever doubt that.” She then maneuvered her body until she was seated atop his pelvis, her knees on either side of his thighs.

  Christian’s smile grew, as did something else; something far more demanding on his person.

  “Does this mean you’ll think about what I’m asking you? We can go back to Preacher’s Bend? I can ask for my old job back? The new church is great, Sara . . . but it’s not where I belong.” He took a deep breath to add more as his wife smiled. “It’s not where we belong.”

  Sara shifted until Christian’s cock slid into her waiting core. “I don’t need to think about it. That old place was your home and you its minister. And as long as I can always do this in the privacy of our bedroom and Mrs. Thorn doesn’t just come barging in . . .” Sara tipped forward, making it so much easier for him to slide into her and then make love to her again. “—I don’t care where we live, what we live in, or who judges me. I’ll still love you more than life itself. But there better be stronger locks on your door and I’ll make up a huge ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign to put out on the front porch whenever we’re in the mood.”

  He reached up and drew her head to his, his lips lingering against her lush mouth, as Sara sunk deeper onto his cock. “That sign might have to be mounted there permanently and in bold red letters. Besides, life is too precious to barter with arguing against you. You can simply love me until my dying day. How’s that sound?” His last words whispered against her face were, “But you do know I’ll always love you more?”

  Then again, Christian should have known there’d never be a man’s last words with this woman, who was now riding him like a wild woman.

  “Is that so? You’ll love me more? Somehow, darling . . . I think not.”

  The End

  Excerpt from Book 2 © Roundabout Road by Jevenna Willow

  Saving the Sinners of Preacher’s Bend

  To those who no longer lived in Preacher's Bend, Sundays sucked around here, especially if you were now considered an outsider; as well, a backstabbing, life-altering treacherous s
nake to every one of its Christian-minded elders.

  Well, that would be her, precisely.

  She hadn’t done any real harm to those still in Preacher's Bend—past or present. Liddy never took anything they weren’t willing to give away. What she’d done was leave without saying Good-bye. And that, without question—the part of her leaving without saying Good-bye—was the deadliest of all sins to commit in a town so small-minded that it couldn’t see its ass even if bent over.

  No one was to leave Preacher's Bend without any one of its residents acknowledgeable of where it was that person was to end up. Disappearance severed gossip lines, and those around here lived for the connection.

  Christ! Even she hadn’t known where it was she would end up. Liddy just knew she had to go; if not for herself, then for the well-being and personal safety of one incredibly gorgeous Jake Giotti. You know? The guy dressed in form fitting leather jacket, big snake tattoo, and his sweet ass seated comfortably on a custom-built, low-riding Harley.

  God! She hated him!

  Liddy hated Jake so much her teeth were starting to ache. She’d been hurt so deeply by the man, and so angry with him ever since, and filled with such a violent temper toward him . . . well, even she could have shot him right between the eyes that fateful night—without flinching, chipping a nail, or breaking into a sweat.

  But the past was the past, as it should be. She’d let it go.

  While thinking this through, while she sorted her thoughts together as best she could, she turned her head to glance out the large window of Rachel’s Café . . . and that was precisely when a world she thought she knew so well came to an abrupt end.

  She hadn’t touched the plate of food in front of her, simply because she wasn’t as hungry as she’d been when first coming through the doors. But when one’s world ends so abruptly, food should not matter a hill of beans to the scheme of things. She could not pull her gaze from that window even if her life depended on it. Time had seemed to speed up momentarily—fast forward. It slammed directly into her heart and considerably staggered her.

  Coming up . . . No. Christ, it was more like waltzing up, with a most definite and very familiar swagger . . .

  Was it? Good God! Could it be?

  Jake Giotti? The same Jake Giotti who was technically her husband? The same Jake, but a slightly new and improved version of the man? He was dressed in a very expensive silk suit and minus one perfectly God-forgiving, forty-five-thousand dollars, custom built Harley Davidson motorcycle generally stuck between his legs. As well, minus at least twelve inches of gorgeous brown hair that he’d always tied in a ponytail with thick leather strap. Unless a certain someone untied it for him. But no one was mentioning any names now, were they? And, they were most definitely not stating that very same someone had been in the throes of blessedly hot and sweaty sex with the man, either!

  Thee Jake Giotti?

  Jesus! He was walking right toward the window, coming straight for Rachel’s Cafe with a sly grin on his face.

  In the blink of an eye, her life flashed before her eyes. It came into view in full Technicolor, and all she could do was staring at the change ten years in him had done.

  From head to toe, he was no longer the Jake she remembered. Good God! He’d physically grown into something far better, something far more dangerous, and something far more devastating to the naked eye. To peace of mind and state of well-being, he was . . . well, he was wearing a suit for Pete’s sake!

  A teaser except from Book 3

  © Seduction of Saber by Jevenna Willow

  Saving the Sinners of Preacher’s Bend

  Women don’t normally grab Saber Patterson by the upper arm to stop him from leaving.

  Normally there was never a reason for him to leave.

  Normally, they grabbed him in a whole lot of other places. Then each would apologize quite convincingly afterwards, followed by the sly handing over of a phone number and a twirl of the hair in case he hadn’t noticed the desire in their eyes.

  If he was lucky, the bat of the eyelashes came last as though it would help their cause.

  Yet there was always a first for everything these days; a first to be shocked at the action of a very attractive woman; a first to even consider that it mattered; a first in a very long time for Saber to even care.

  And the woman was definitely attractive: long red hair, startling blue eyes, and a cute little mole on her left cheek.

  He had to ignore the sudden pull of heat that pulsed through her fingertips, as best he could, while clearing his throat. Such an intense heat was heading straight to his insides—right where it could do a man some pretty hefty damage.

  She let go of his arm and smiled. “Sorry about that. It’s just that I don’t want you to leave.” She gave his arm a tender, sisterly sort of pat; likely in case she’d miscalculated her strength.

  Saber cleared his throat, willing his body to settle down.

  He wasn’t so certain staying here was such a good idea any more.

  ****

  Julia did not want him to leave. Besides, there was plenty of room inside the boarding house for another to stay. So what if she would need to rearrange a few things? Vacate her room, for a start. She needed the money. One more boarder wouldn’t hurt anyone. Anyone that is, except her rather angelic conscience and her father’s worrisome attitude toward her well-being.

  It’s just that rearranging rooms wasn't on her to-do list for the day, when having other issues to deal with.

  “Can’t go anywhere without a ride,” he said.

  She pulled her gaze from his without hesitation. “Oh. Yeah. That.”

  The only real reason for wanting him to stay exactly where he was, now that he was here, was that she did not want the likes of one very sinister Rachel Rosebud to sink her claws into the man.

  Theodora’s granddaughter had tried to sink her claws into Jake Giotti and a few others lucky enough to get away. On this particular occasion, Rachel Rosebud could find her own hunky hunk. This one was hers!

  Besides, she needed as much money as she could get her hands onto, just to pay off a few unfortunate bills. His money was as good as anyone else’s, and she did not want to lose him on the account of being too jittery . . . and too awestruck!

  He might be gorgeous, but surely she could get past that. And Niagara Falls was just a tiny trickle over a few rocks. She wasn’t kidding anyone.

  If you would like to see other great titles by Jevenna Willow, please visit her website at

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