by Jodi Redford
“He has a name, Mother. It’s Gibb.”
Apparently Belinda being addressed properly this time around didn’t entirely make up for her daughter’s scandalous behavior. Gripping the edge of the counter as if she was seconds away from fainting, Belinda gaped at Kayla. “I didn’t raise you to behave in this manner. It’s shameful.”
“I know you think so. And I’m sorry it hurts you. But this is my life to live, Mother. Accept it or don’t.” A twinge of familiar anxiety crept into place, and she struggled to shove it aside. “While we’re getting everything out into the open, you should know that I’ve decided to drop the pen name.”
The outrage Belinda displayed before was nothing compared to the numb-faced shock currently holding her hostage. “W-what?”
“I’m going to start writing under my real name.”
Anger compressed Belinda’s lips into a thin line. A sudden waft of air and trickle of street noise announced that a customer had entered the store, but Belinda’s focus remained pinned to Kayla. “You would taint your father’s legacy with your disgusting smut? You should be ashamed of yourself.”
The condemnation was nothing new, but for once it didn’t cut Kayla to the bone. She opened her mouth to say as much to her mom, only to be outshouted by a sudden blast of fury behind her.
“What the hell is wrong with you, you old biddy? Jeez Louise, get that stick out of your ass already.”
Jolting, Kayla whipped her gaze toward the entrance. Her scowl locked on Belinda, Bailey stepped forward, her petite frame bristling with a hefty dose of pit-bull-about-to-charge menace.
Unperturbed by the incredulous stares glued to her, Bailey pointed an accusing finger at Belinda. “You have no place to judge what Kay writes.”
“No place? I’m her mother.”
“Then start acting like it, and support her for once.” Bailey’s expression grew infinitely more ornery. “Unless you’re hoping to push her away for good so you can have absolutely no one in your life.”
Kayla winced. “Bail, that’s a bit harsh.”
“Maybe, but it’s true.” Bailey stacked her arms over her chest and tossed Belinda a challenging glare. “You lost your husband. Do you really want to lose your daughter too?”
Kayla was on the verge of demanding Bailey to cool it when she noticed the unmistakable hint of fear shimmering in her mom’s eyes. The unexpected sight stalled Kayla short. Was her mom worried Bailey’s premonition might come true? It didn’t seem possible. Particularly since Belinda had all but disowned Kayla these last six months.
Avoiding Kayla’s gaze, Belinda glanced at her expensive Cartier watch again. She crossed to the front door, but hesitated at the threshold. “To answer your question, no, I don’t want to lose my daughter.” The vulnerable wobble in her voice softening the starch in her tone, Belinda strode from the store.
“That woman is a real piece of work,” Bailey muttered.
Kayla watched her mom settle into the driver’s seat of a steel-blue BMW. Unlike Bailey, she wasn’t angry at her mom’s response. If anything, she was shocked as hell over it. Yeah, what just went down didn’t exactly qualify as a reconciliation, but as far as her and Belinda’s shaky relationship went, it came pretty damn close to one. But even if she and her mom never moved beyond their current tensions, Kayla still felt a million times better—and stronger—for standing up for herself.
Bemusement making her brain sluggish, she gazed at Bailey. “You’re the last person I would have anticipated rushing to my rescue.”
Bailey wrinkled her nose. “It’s in my job description. You know that.”
“Not lately.”
Guilt painting her features, Bailey scuffed her heel on the tiled floor. “Come on, I’ll make it up to you by buying you a scoop.”
Like there was any chance Kayla was passing that up. Not if it meant the possibility of mending fences with Bailey. Gibb and Ty would understand the importance of that, though Ty would probably grumble over being deprived ice cream. Of course, she could rectify that by presenting herself as a human sundae later tonight. That problem solved, she joined Bailey at the counter just as Cynthia returned to the register.
Bailey ordered her standard double scoop mint chocolate and Kayla her pineapple coconut. Once they’d collected their frozen treats, Bailey led the way to one of the bistro tables.
A silence fell over them. Just as the tension ratcheted past Kayla’s breaking point, Bailey dug her spoon into her dish and left it there while she lifted teary eyes to Kayla. “I’ve missed you.”
“Oh God, me too.”
They both jumped up from their seats and tackled each other with a hug, all the while sobbing in full-on ugly-cry mode. Choking on tears, they clung to each other, words pouring from their mouths simultaneously. Once it became clear that communicating would go infinitely smoother with only one of them speaking, Kayla waved her hand. “You go first.”
“I’m sorry.” Bailey’s tear-logged eyes leaked over. “I was such a bitch to you. And Ty. And even Gibb. You probably hate me now.”
Kayla squeezed Bailey tight. “It’s impossible for me to hate you. But you did hurt me.”
“I know. And I’m sorry for that too.” Bailey scrubbed furiously at her wet cheeks. “I can be an idiot at times. It’s a miracle you’ve stayed my friend all these years.”
Steeling herself, Kayla sucked in a deep breath. What she needed to say wouldn’t be easy, but it had to be done. “You mean the world to me, Bail. But so do Ty and Gibb. I’m hoping you can accept that. Eventually. If not…well, we might not be able to repair the damage that’s been done between us.”
Bailey dropped her gaze and stared at the black-and-white-checkered tiles. “Those things I said to you were meant more for me than you.”
Kayla frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Her expression miserable, Bailey finally returned her focus to Kay. “You’re not the only one who’s in love with two men.”
She awarded Bailey a triple blink. “What?”
Bailey buried her face in her hands. “It’s not supposed to happen like this. Dane is my everything. We’re supposed to live happily ever after. Have four kids and an English setter named Sir Frances Freckles.”
“You’ve, uh, named your future dog?”
Bailey gave Kayla a look like that was the dumbest question in the history of dumb questions. “Of course. But me being in love with Finn is going to screw all that up.”
“You’re in love with Finn?” The clouds of confusion slowly dispersed from the horizon. “That’s why you refused his job offer.”
Bailey nodded glumly. “There’s no way I could handle being around him forty hours a week. I would have done something stupid, like rip off his shirt and bite that tattoo he has on his shoulder.” She shuddered.
“So I take it you’ve never done anything about your feelings for him?”
Bailey shook her head furiously. “And I’m never going to.”
Kayla rubbed her best friend’s arm soothingly. “It’s not healthy to keep this bottled inside you, Bail. You need to come clean with Dane before you marry him.”
“No, I won’t hurt him. I’ll get over this stupid infatuation with Finn, and neither of them will even know it existed in the first place.”
She hugged Bailey to her. “I think you’re making a huge mistake.”
“The mistake would be me hurting Dane. And I’m not doing that.”
Bailey’s familiar stubbornness was apparent in her tone and the restless energy in her tiny frame. Kayla held no doubt that her best friend was convinced she could will herself from loving two men. She also knew from personal experience that Bailey was about to learn the tough way that when matters of the heart were involved, fate was more than happy to play hardball.
Making a silent vow to be there for Bailey when that time came, Kayla wrapped her arms around her best friend and sighed.
Epilogue
The click-clack of her dad’s ancient Remington prov
ided a comforting soundtrack as Kayla’s fingers flew over the keys. She’d taken to using the thing on occasion for the fun little pieces she wrote just for Gibb and Ty. They kept encouraging her to package the vignettes into a published anthology, but she wanted to keep them as their special stories. And truthfully, they were probably too raunchy, even for Ella Kay.
Bless her muses and their fantastically dirty imaginations.
Grinning to herself, she peeked out the window of her office and watched her men working hard on the small, enclosed garden they’d designed for her at the back end of the yard. Her favorite part was the gazebo, which would be perfect for those times when she wanted to immerse herself in nature’s inspiration while she was writing.
Ty picked up the garden hose and held it provocatively while he watered the flowering lantana that Gibb had recently planted. Oh Lord. She could just imagine the perverted conversation those two were having. Chuckling, she returned to her work in progress.
Tabitha’s pussy quivering with unrestrained need, she slipped off her bra and soaked panties. Fingers sneaking between her legs, she kept her gaze glued to her two handsome and ridiculously well-hung gardeners, Sergio and Xavier. Although they feigned ignorance of her presence at the bay window, she knew they were on to her. What other reason would they have for suggestively stroking the handles of their hedge shears like that?
When Xavier darted a furtive look toward the privacy fence, she knew what was coming next. Chest heaving in anticipation, she clutched the window frame with one hand and sought out her sopping clit with the other. Grabbing Sergio by his belt loops, Xavier shoved his companion against the nearby tree trunk. A second later, their mouths collided in a devouring kiss. Their sweat-slickened bronzed chests rubbing together deliciously, they bumped groins in a nasty grind. His motions impatient, Xavier wrenched Sergio’s zipper down, allowing his eleven-inch cock to spring free in all its glory. Hunkering to his knees, Xavier slid his mouth over that monster cock, deep throating it with an expression that rivaled that time she’d surprised him and Sergio with a platter of meatball subs.
Apparently they really enjoyed meatball subs.
She gasped right along with Sergio when Xavier spun him around, and after lodging his enormous pole between those golden ass cheeks, demonstrated his considerable plowing skills.
It was all too much for Tabitha.
Their teasing pushing her beyond the breaking point, she rushed from the house and joined them outside. The filthy boys didn’t even bother to act shocked by her presence. Still pumping away in Sergio’s ass, Xavier crooked a finger. She dropped to her knees on the freshly tilled dirt, the tree trunk’s bark rough upon her back while she stared greedily at Sergio’s cock inches from her face. She licked her lips and looked up at her devious tormentors. “I suddenly have a burning need to know if the Wheelbarrow position is remotely possible in a threesome.”
Less than a minute later, she had her answer.
Oh yes. It was definitely possible.
About the Author
At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick-figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.
She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.
When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality-television shows.
Currently residing in Michigan with her husband and overgrown lapdog, she is a member of RWA national and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America.
She loves to hear from readers. You can email her at [email protected] and visit her online at www.jodiredford.com.
Look for these titles by Jodi Redford
Now Available:
Taking Liberty
Light My Fire
Vanessa Unveiled
The Naughty List
Cat Scratch Fever
Breaking Bad
Checking it Twice
That Old Black Magic
That Voodoo You Do
The Seven Year Witch
Maximum Witch
Getting Familiar with Your Demon
Thieves of Aurion
Lover Enslaved
Lover Enraptured
Coming Soon:
Triple Knockout
Looks like someone’s knees are going to get a workout.
Lover Enraptured
© 2013 Jodi Redford
Thieves of Aurion, Book 2
Avily Donahoe has dated way too many losers trying to get over Jerrick Hunter, the man who taught her everything about the life of crime she left behind. Now he has the balls to show up and ask her to pose as his sub, complete with skimpy leather outfit, to get inside a no-faes-allowed sex club?
Oh, hell no. If anyone’s going to be wearing next to nothing, it’s going to be Jerrick…as her bitch.
Five years ago, Jerrick realized the lonely kid he’d taken under his wing had grown into a tempting, desirable woman—and he’d cut her loose. If gaining her help now means hitting his knees with a leash and a collar, so be it.
But soon their front escalates into an all-too-real erotic game where the prize is the one thing that tantalizes him beyond reason. Their hearts aren’t the only thing they’ll lose if they fail. It could mean the end of everything—and everyone—they know and love.
Warning: This book contains male groveling, the occasional blindfold and feather tickler, wicked sex magic, and a fae thief who isn’t afraid to wear ass-less chaps when the job calls for it.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Lover Enraptured:
He was starting to come to the conclusion that the smaller the package, the more potential for testing his patience. Despite being half his size, Avi possessed the ability to drive him to the limits of his sanity.
After their showdown in the bathroom, she’d calmly ordered him into the kitchen—where he was currently making her a salad while she kicked back on the sofa. She was taking this whole getting-into-character to an exasperating extreme. He knew she was doing it to prove a point, and he even understood why.
What she didn’t understand was the dangerous fire she was meddling with.
There was a reason he desperately needed to be the one holding the reins in this charade, and it had nothing to do with some farfetched notion of refusing to kowtow to a woman’s demands. As long as he remained in control of himself, everything would be okay. He could treat this job like any other and stay cool and professional in the process. But with Avi pushing him and stripping his defenses, what hope did he hold of resisting the potent pull of her?
He had to. Giving in was not an option. Popping a cheese cube into his mouth, he squinted at her profile. “It’s bloody cold in here. Can I put my damn shirt back on?”
“The lower temp is good for your metabolism. We wouldn’t want you developing a spare tire around your gut.”
“I appreciate your concern for my health.” Somehow or other, he’d find a way to get her back for this. “What else do you want in your salad?”
“Maybe a few slices of the Nahimi melon.”
He opened her cooler and inspected the contents of the crisper bin. “Looks like you already polished it off.”
“Well shoot.”
He waited for her to demand he drag his ass down to the grocer. Or perhaps produce some magical seeds and till her a garden so she could have her blasted fruit.
“Guess you’ll have to skip adding it. Chop up the rest of the cooked hen on the second shelf and toss it in instead. I need my protein, you know.”
Undoubtedly so she could keep her lungs nice and strong for bossing him around.
A minute later, meal completed to her exacting standards, he carried it to the sofa. She patted the cushion next to her. Before he even sat down he knew what her next request would be.
“You can
feed it to me.”
Biting back a growl, he speared a serving of the greens and crispy poultry with the fork and held it to her mouth. Her lips closed around the metal tines with an mmm of pleasure that wrapped around his cock and refused to let go. Yes, she definitely drove him insane. In more ways than one. He battled the potent desire to suck the remaining few speckles of dressing from her berry-vinaigrette-glossed lips.
“Does it meet your approval, my precious?” His voice sounded strained and gruff to his own ears.
Her smile was as sweetly delivered as his endearment. “Color me impressed. Didn’t know you had it in you to cook. You’ve always avoided any domestic activity like it’s a fate worse than death.”
Damn sassy woman. Even if she was right. “It’s a salad. Not much cooking involved.”
She surprised him by snatching the fork from his grip. At bloody last, she was putting this ridiculous dominatrix stuff to bed for the night.
Truthfully, her roleplaying wasn’t the only thing wreaking havoc on his tightly strung patience. Sitting next to her and not running his hands all over her silky skin was killing him. Their brief contact in the bathroom only added kindling to the fire crackling between them. If he wasn’t careful, he stood a good chance of getting burned.
He needed to remove himself from temptation. Now. Desperately clutching the frayed strands of his willpower, he started to shove up from the cushion.
Avi stalled him with her hand on his thigh. His entire world narrowed to the distracting pressure of her splayed fingers. He didn’t immediately notice the fork waving inches from his face. “Wha—?”
She shoved the greens into his mouth, effectively shutting him up. He chewed the offering, his wary focus never leaving her face. She scooted closer and tucked her legs over his lap. A rush of familiarity swept over him. How many times had she curled into him like this? Too many to count. And just like those other occasions when he’d sweated through her need to cuddle, he questioned his ability to keep his hands safely out of the danger zone.
