by Sierra Dafoe
Had she ever believed they didn’t want her? They wanted her so badly they were beyond all control, taking her with a fury that made her reel with desire. Sliding one hand down between her thighs, Alan found her clit. She cried aloud as he rubbed it, the sound muffled by Kyle’s shaft. It jerked in her mouth and she heard Kyle groan and braced herself as his strokes grew even faster.
Pinned between them, she felt her own climax building, looming inside her like a cresting tidal wave, so huge it frightened her. What would it feel like? What would it do to her? Part of her wanted to pull back, pull away, but the two men above her were trapped in their own searing, desperate need. They held her roughly, hands grasping, cocks ramming deep, deeper, deeper still…
Then Kyle cried out, his voice as harsh as a hawk’s as his cream flooded her mouth. It was hot, salty, intoxicating, and she swallowed eagerly, lashing his head with her tongue. Alan roared, his hips slamming her ass, and his finger mashed her clit until she screamed against Kyle’s groin, her whole body quaking as her cunt gripped that huge, hard, hammering shaft, squeezing it viselike as she peaked again and again, her thighs spread so wide her tendons burned like fire, her passage gushing juices with each deep, fiery spasm.
Alan rammed himself in to the root and hung there as his cock bucked and throbbed inside her, flooding her cunt. His balls pulsed against her furred outer lips, contracting in hard little jerks until he’d spilled every drop. Then he slumped against her as Kyle collapsed to his knees, his forehead resting heavily against hers. With one work-hardened finger, he touched her mouth tenderly, rubbing the come that smeared her lips across them like gloss.
“You still hungry?” he murmured.
“Mmm-hmm.” She nodded, smiling a little at his surprised expression. Reaching out sleepily, she wrapped her arms around his bull-like neck and pillowed her head on his broad, burly shoulder. “I think I’m gonna be hungry for the rest of my life.”
Behind her, she heard Alan chuckle.
There had been, of course, a few wagging tongues when Kyle and Alan had bought the old Robertson place. In a place the size of Preacher's Bend, there always were. “’Tain’t right,” those few had said, usually with bristling eyebrows and indignant looks. “Two young men living alone together—’tain’t right at all.”
Before Thanksgiving, though, those tongues got a whole new direction to wag in when Cassie Jordan, who’d disappeared who knew where for nearly three years, turned back up in town and moved out there with them. And they really had a field day when, late the next August, Cassie gave birth to a fine, strapping, black-haired boy—and promptly turned around and married Kyle Watson.
But as they never did anything more than wag, nobody paid them much mind—not even the following year when Alan James Watson’s new baby brother turned out to have hair as gold as an Idaho wheat field.
About the Author
Twice nominated for Favorite Erotic Author in The Romance Studio's CAPA awards, Sierra Dafoe published her first erotic romance in 2006 and hasn't stopped since! Visit her at www.sierradafoe.com, and join her yahoogroup at http://groups.yahoo.com/The_Sierra_Club. She loves hearing from her readers!
Christina Marshall has no desire to have a man in her life. TJ McFee and Jonathan Winslow are on a mission to change her mind.
The Strength of Three
© 2007 Annmarie McKenna
As the daughter of an abusive drunk, Christina could care less about the lack of men in her life. So why is she having seriously erotic dreams about two of her bosses?
Jon and TJ are men who go after what they want and right now their focus is on a certain blonde-haired, brown-eyed nymph who’s done her best to blow off anyone of the XY persuasion. She’s a challenge. Never let it be said that either one of them ignore a challenge.
Their seduction is set off course when Christina’s mother dies and her father reinstates himself in her life. When accusations of murder fly, Chris must find a way to learn to trust both Jon and TJ. Her very life may depend on it.
Warning, this title contains the following: Blindfolds and bondage and sex—oh my. Ooh, and let’s not forget about the m/f/m ménage and the graphic language.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Strength of Three:
Jon swiped his thumb across one of her pink cheeks, counting it as a victory when she didn’t flinch or pull away. He couldn’t wait to see them flushed with the pleasure he and TJ would grace upon her. Would she scream out one or both of their names? Was she the silent type, a moaner? Based on the rapid pulse at her throat, he could tell she wasn’t as unaffected by him as she would like to think she was.
“The difference between your father and TJ and I is that we won’t drink, ever.” He enunciated very clearly, giving her no room to misinterpret. “If there’s ever a time you don’t feel comfortable, you just have to tell us.”
She snorted. “I’m not comfortable. Back off.” She raised her hands and pushed at his chest in an attempt to create space between them. He gave her a modicum and laughed. They’d never get anywhere if they let her have her way every time.
The shrill ring of a cell phone interrupted them. Chris never took her gaze off him. The phone rang again and she lifted her glass and sipped. TJ moved closer. “You gonna answer that?”
Chris did a double take. “What?”
“Your pocket is ringing, sugar,” Jon offered.
“Huh? Oh. Oh, crap.” She fumbled in the pocket of her skirt for the slim pink flip phone he knew she carried.
He just smiled. She was fucking gorgeous when riled, which was most of the time around them. They seemed to bring it out of her in spades. There was the flush, this time from frustration. Soon it would be courtesy of an explosive orgasm given by him or Teej.
“Hello?” She stuck a finger in her ear to drown out the noise. “Carter? Is that you?”
Carter. Chris’s younger brother, who, from Jon’s background search into the Marshall family, seemed to follow in Daddy’s footsteps. At least in the mean department. Christina had done the smart thing, getting away from her family.
“No, I do not have any money.”
TJ stood, exchanging a knowing look over her head with Jon. They both disliked the tone they heard in her voice.
“Well, geez, I don’t know, Carter. Get a job like everyone else in the world maybe?” She paused and her eyes widened. “I will never fund your disgusting habit. I work too hard for the money I earn to waste it on you.”
Shit. If the kid had a habit and needed money for a fix, things could get ugly fast. Faster if he owed money he didn’t have.
A second later her eyes narrowed into slits. “You leave Mother out of this.” She paused. “I already regret it.” She slammed the flip closed and growled.
“Carter’s bothering you again?” Aislinn asked across the table.
“Again?” TJ and Jon barked together. Jon saw red. If the little punk had taken to messing with Chris, Jon would put an end to it really quickly.
“He says he needs money to pay his rent.”
“And you know he’s lying, right?” Aislinn came around the table, nudging Jon out of the way with a sharp elbow to his stomach. He stepped back with an oomph while TJ and Kyle snickered. He flipped them both off.
“After last month? Yes, I know.”
“What the hell happened last month?” TJ snarled. Jon wanted to know the exact same thing and more. Like how they’d missed her brother’s problems when running a background check on her, something they did with everyone who worked for their company. Chris’s had been a little more involved since both of them knew she would inevitably end up in their bed. With their past in the Teams, it was both a habit and a necessity. He, Teej and Kyle had pissed off more than one baddy out there who would stop at nothing to seek revenge. A loved one would be an easy target.
Before Chris could answer, Aislinn said, “Carter drove all the way from Chicago and showed up at her door begging for money for some overdue bill he had. When she offered to tak
e him to the phone company to pay it for him, he flipped out saying he could handle it on his own. Then he tore through her house, grabbed her wallet and stole all the cash she had in there.”
“Motherfucker.” Jon wanted to put his fist through a wall. Or better yet, Carter’s face. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell us?”
Chris drew back, one eyebrow raised high. She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why would I?”
Damn. Why would she? They didn’t exactly have a relationship. Yet.
Starting right now, they did and he’d be goddamned if he let her junkie of a brother run roughshod over her again.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe so we could help?”
“I think I can handle my own brother.”
Jon snorted. “You handled him so well he ran you over to steal your money. How much did he get?”
“I don’t see how it’s any of your—”
“How much?”
“A hundred and twenty bucks.”
Feeling the muscle ticking along his jaw, he nodded once. “Do you think you’ve heard the last of him tonight?”
“I don’t know. What does it matter?”
“You matter,” Jon growled and leaned closer so she had no choice but to look him in the eye. “TJ and I are done waiting for you.” He saw the flash of heat flare in her eyes. Hell, he could smell the moisture pooling between her legs. She could deny it all she wanted, but her body craved what he and Teej could offer. “We’re not like your father or your brother and the only way you’ll see that is to let us close. Probably won’t be easy for you, but I can damn well guarantee it’ll be worth it.”
Her eyes widened, her nostrils flared with each inhalation, and the pulse at the base of her throat sped up. He wanted to lean in and lick it, to taste her and leave his mark. Not here though. He straightened. If his dick got any harder, he’d be popping out of his jeans. Wouldn’t that be something?
“I don’t”—she had to clear her throat—“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sex, Chris. Remember the conversation we were having earlier?” Aislinn butt in.
“Aislinn.” Chris’s hissed reprimand made Jon laugh out loud. Oh God the woman was priceless. He’d wondered what they’d been talking about when she’d yelled out across the bar.
“What?” Aislinn said innocently. “I’m just getting you back for a little incident that happened at work a couple of months ago. Remember there was something about a feather duster?”
“That was your fault. You’re the one who asked Kyle if he had a duster but didn’t expound on what kind, or that we’d been imagining them wearing dusters, cowboy hats and nothing el— Oh my God.” Chris’s eyes closed. “Please tell me I didn’t just say that out loud.”
Mixing business with pleasure has never been so tempting.
Temptation City
© 2008 Lyric James
Ashia Forrester has always lived by one rule: Never mix business with pleasure. As the owner of Temptation City, a male strip club, that has never been a problem. Until now. The talented new stripper she’s hired stirs a desire in her that cannot be denied.
Jalen Spencer is an undercover cop who loves his job. His next assignment is to pose as a stripper at a local club and find out if the owner is laundering money for the mob. He’s pretty sure this mission will be a walk in the park, until he meets the sexy owner. It isn’t long before Jalen’s giving hot performances on stage and in her bed.
But how will she handle it when she learns everything about him is a lie?
Enjoy the following excerpt for Temptation City:
Ashia made herself sit in her office. She wanted to go watch him so bad her feet almost moved involuntarily without her. She still tasted his kiss on her lips. But after he turned her away, she knew she had to fight the attraction she felt for him.
When Joey came by to see her, she knew Jalen was sitting in the club area and she got a thrill of power from it. She knew he sat there watching, wondering. Joey always flirted with her. It was their thing. But nothing had ever happened between them.
Besides, she wouldn’t allow herself to be involved sexually or intimately with someone who had to keep certain things about his life or job a secret, specifically things that could make them wind up in jail. And if Joey kept it up, he would be. He, too, had come to her just like her brother and asked for her help. Again, she’d refused. He didn’t like it, but he understood. The history they shared still allowed them to be friends.
But she did get a perverse pleasure out of witnessing Jalen’s jealousy. She didn’t understand it, but was glad nonetheless. It meant that he felt something for her. She heard his music end and the cheers and screams of the women in the club. He’d had another fabulous performance.
However, there was still work to do, so she got up and headed into the kitchen. Her manager had already informed her they were running low on a few items. She wanted to head out to make a late-night run to the store. Plus, it would allow her to avoid Jalen. Just being in the same building with him did something to her nerves.
“Hey, Vivian, you got that list ready for me?”
“Yes, here you go,” she said, handing it to her. “Jalen had another awesome show.”
She didn’t want to hear it. She’d purposely avoided watching him tonight.
“Those women are so crazy for him. They asked about him when they walked in the door. They wanted to make sure the Midnight Panther was performing tonight.”
Ashia slid an unconcerned mask over her features. “Good. That’s what I like to hear.” She folded and tucked the list in her purse. “If I’m not back before the clean-up crew is finished, close up for me, okay?”
“Sure thing, boss. See you later.”
She slipped out the front while her final act, The Crimson Stallion, finished his performance. By the time she got back, everyone would be gone. At least all the dancers would be, anyway.
Including Jalen.
But an hour and a half later when she walked into her office, that wasn’t the case. He was sitting at her desk, looking at her computer.
“W-what are you doing in here?” she stammered, too shocked to be angry that he was in her office and on her personal desktop when he wasn’t supposed to be.
Jalen stood. He’d changed into a pair of blue jeans and a red shirt. Her favorite color. The reason why everything in her club was accented in it, and also the reason she wore it each night the club was open.
“Um…Vivian told me you might come back, so I waited.”
She set down her purse and crossed her arms over her chest. “Why?”
“I’m sorry about the other day.”
“We’ve already been over this,” she snapped.
“No…I mean. I’m sorry I stopped.”
She looked heavenward and took a deep breath. “Don’t do this to me, Jalen. One minute you’re pulling me forward, the next you’re pushing me back. Just…just…go home.” She rubbed her palms up and down her arms. They itched to touch him, to feel him, because even though he apologized, his eyes hinted at something different. He wanted her, but he fought against it. He didn’t want to want her.
Why?
What was wrong with her?
Jalen’s hazel eyes flashed liquid heat. He came around her desk and got closer to her. His gaze moved the length of her body, and she knew immediately when the barrier between employer and employee changed. Standing in this room, they were just a man and a woman who wanted each other desperately.
He framed her face and looked into her eyes, so much emotion behind them that she sensed he felt he was doing something awfully wrong. She cradled him around the waist in an attempt to let him know that everything could be so right between them. So perfect if he’d only let it.
Ashia was overjoyed when he kissed her and even more so when he eased his tongue inside her mouth. She moaned against his lips, licking, nibbling at him. And he consumed her in return. Slipping his hand to the small of her back, he traced the
curve of her spine, up to her neck and back down again.
Jalen’s hands moved lower to palm the curve of her ass and he pulled her tight against him, hard and ready for her. But was he willing?
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” But even as he said it, his lips nibbled at her ear. Then he spun her around, swept her hair to the side, and his tongue traced a wet path across the back of her neck.
“Then stop right now,” she panted, aching for his touch, needing him, wanting him.
“I can’t,” he murmured, and slid his hands under her shirt to cup her breasts. “There’s just something about you that pulls me in.”
He was right. For some powerful, unexplainable reason, she was drawn to him, and he to her. As if some magic force tugged them together and didn’t want to loosen its hold.
As if they belonged together.
His hands found the zipper at the back of the black mini-skirt she wore and she heard the metal come apart and felt the material whisper down her legs to pool at her ankles. She stepped out of it.
“This is what you want,” he stated. It wasn’t a question.
“Yes.” The word came out as a gasp when she felt him drop to his knees behind her. His hands touched her ankles and grazed a path up over her calves to her thighs until he slipped his fingers under the red bikini panties she wore.
“This is what I want,” he confirmed.
She wobbled on her feet and had to grab the edge of the table as he pulled them down. “My shoes,” she whispered.
“Leave them on,” he said and kissed the dent in her hip.
Carefully, so she wouldn’t fall, she lifted one leg, then the other as he took off her underwear.
Standing, he reached around her and pulled each button loose on her shirt and dropped it to the floor. With his teeth, he unhooked her bra and sent another wet path of kisses up her back.
She moaned with pleasure and fought to hold a single thought inside her head. The erotic need that pulsed inside her was so intense it threatened to overwhelm her.
