Take Me To Bed: Bedtime Quickies

by Alex Grayson

  “Oh God,” I cried out, and he captured the sound with his mouth, drawing it into himself.

  “Angel . . . you save me,” he said, angling my hips as he wanted them. He made love to me, then, pounding into me over and over, until everything else around us burned away and our bodies and our souls were one. I screamed his name when an orgasm swept through me, and moments later, my husband roared loudly through his own climax.

  4

  Ellie

  Christmas Day

  I was enveloped in Will’s arms when I woke the next morning. My back was pressed tightly against his chest, and his erection was pushed between my thighs. His lips were on the back of my neck. He caressed my skin, leaving his heat wherever he touched me. His hand glided along the curves of my body until he reached his intended target, where he circled my clit with his long fingers.

  I moaned. God, it was so good. . . . He was so good.

  “Happy Christmas, Wife,” he said. I couldn’t see the arrogant smile on his face, but I could hear it layered in the tone of his voice.

  “Yes, it is,” I exhaled with another moan.

  We had made love throughout the night, taking breaks to talk about the future of our family and indulge in slices of wedding cake. At one point, Will had swiped some of the Swiss buttercream icing from a plate on the bedside table, smeared it on my breasts, and removed it with his hot mouth.

  We’d finally fallen asleep just before dawn.

  And now, only a few hours later, I wanted him again. I was already close to coming, so I arched my back and elevated my position against his body. I reached behind me and positioned the head of his erection at my entrance. A primitive grunt rumbled in his chest as he shoved himself inside me.

  He stilled and kissed my neck again. “Slow and easy this time, baby.” Then he removed his hand from between my legs.

  “Will, please. Now. Please.” I fumbled for his hand like some crazed nymph.

  “You’ll come when I allow it.” He pinned my arm across my chest. “You’ll wait for me.”

  I nodded, giving over to him, granting him control of my body. “Yes.”

  “Good girl. Move with me slowly.”

  I rocked my hips back against him, matching his gentle rhythm as he slid in and out of me, my husband, making sweet, slow love to me this time. A complete contrast to his glorious eruptions of fierce need.

  His breathing and his pace soon accelerated, and another few minutes later, he released my arm and rewarded me with the return of his fingers.

  My soul shattered, the climax carrying me away until I was nothing more than a billion blissful fragments. I cried out his name, and at the same time, he cursed and roared mine.

  We didn’t move for some time. I wanted to turn and face him, to see his beautiful stormy eyes, but neither of us was ready to bear the loss of our physical connection. I reached over my shoulder to touch his face. He did the same to me, pulling my lips to his.

  I was at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the intensity of the feelings consuming my heart. “No words, Will,” was all that I could manage.

  Will dropped his pajama bottoms on the floor and climbed back into bed after letting Mrs. Bates into our suite with breakfast. He handed me a cup of coffee from the tray and placed a small gift box on the pillow between us.

  I took a sip. “What’s this? We agreed on Christmas gifts for children only.”

  “We did. This is a wedding gift.”

  “We said no wedding gifts, Will. And then you gave me the car.”

  “And now I’m giving you this.”

  “I’m not accepting it.” I nudged the box closer to him with one finger.

  He set it back on my side of the pillow and picked up his coffee.

  I lifted onto my knees and reached for a slice of toast and a piece of bacon. He drew circles on my ass as I leaned over him to get the food. I glared over my shoulder.

  “Open the goddamned box, Elle.”

  “Or what?” I sat back on my side of the bed and bit into the toast.

  “Lean over my lap again that way, and I might smack your arse.”

  “Promises, promises,” I said. “Wait—did you just draw a bull’s-eye on my backside?”

  My husband grinned. “I did. You’ll open the box now.”

  We both laughed, and then I dropped my head onto his shoulder with a sigh.

  “I want the right to return whatever it is or donate its worth to a charity if I choose to.”

  He offered the box to me on the palm of his hand. “You won’t do that, but I’ll make you the deal if it pleases you.”

  “Deal.” I grabbed the little package and removed the lid. Inside was a set of keys tied together with a red ribbon. I squeezed my lids shut for a moment as the now-familiar anxiety flooded through me. I’d never felt at home until Eastridge, and I didn’t want to lose that. “You bought a house.”

  “We need a home in London.”

  I nodded, then climbed onto his lap and pressed my forehead to his. “Okay,” I breathed.

  After kissing the tip of my nose, he pulled back and smiled. “We’ve got this, Elle.”

  At that moment, in his blue eyes, in that seductive smile, I saw everything I had ever wanted. A second house couldn’t change that.

  Will was my home.

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  About K.L.

  K.L. CLARE is an award-winning romance author praised by industry critics for her elegant prose, captivating and distinctive characters, and original story lines.

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  Our Little Secret

  SL Sterling

  Spencer Brooks was the most attractive man I'd ever laid eyes on. He was also my father's best friend. That alone should have said he was off limits, but what could one night really hurt?

  1

  Ainsley

  January 8

  I stared out of my bedroom window down into my next-door neighbor’s backyard and watched as he cut his lawn. "How is it even possible that he can look just as yummy in grubby sweats as he does every weekday morning when he leaves for the office dressed to the nines in a suit and tie?" I questioned Carly. "I mean, the man is 6'2”, dark hair, blue eyes, and a solid wall of pure muscle, and he looks dynamite dressed in a suit."

  "I know what the man looks like, Ainsley. His picture is plastered all over the place." She sighed. "Is Spencer Brooks all we are going to talk about tonight?"

  "I'm sorry...it's just..."

  "It's just you’re obsessed with an older man, one who just happens to be the same age as your father and your soon-to-be boss! You know, girl, I was thinking, Craig really likes you. Perhaps you should go for him. He will be there with us tonight, that is, if you are coming?"

  "I'm...I'm not sure yet?" I mumbled, distracted from my own conversation as I strained to hear my father speaking with someone downstairs.

  "Come on, it's Jon's birthday. We haven't seen you since you left for school, and I don't think I need to remind you that you promised him you would be there the other day when we had coffee!" I heard another rumble of laughter from downstairs, followed by our neighbor’s deep voice.

  "How about I call you back in five. He's here," I sighed into the phone.

  "Who's there? Ainsley come on; I'm trying to get final numbers for reservations."

  "The one, the only, Spencer Brooks," I whispered. I heard Carly groan her displeasure as I opened my bedroom door a little farther just to catch the sound of his deep, sexy voice. I was sure she was tired of listening to me go on and on about Spencer.

  "Girl, you got it bad. Seriously, I think you should go for Craig, or perhaps someone at school has turned your head."

  "The guys at school are dull," I whined. Another bur
st of laughter came from downstairs catching my attention. "I'll call you back in ten minutes. Oh, and Craig isn't my type," I said, ignoring her.

  "He's the captain of your university football team. How the hell is that not your type?"

  "It's just not. I'll call you back."

  "Oh, Ains...come on; I just need a yes or no. The reservations—"

  "Got to go," I whispered, cutting her off and hanging up the phone. I wandered over to my dresser, checking out my reflection in the mirror and fluffing my hair. I removed the sweatshirt I had thrown on earlier over the tank top I was wearing, grabbed my glass, and headed down toward the kitchen.

  "Spencer, what you really need is a hot twenty-year-old to fuck the shit out of. That will help you get Jane out of your system," my father said as I rounded the corner. I met Spencer's blue eyes, which quickly roamed over my body. I swallowed hard and did my best to keep the heat from rising to my face.

  "Good evening, Ainsley," Spencer said, clearing his throat, his eyes skimming over my chest. "Any plans for tonight?"

  "Hey, Ains!" Dad said, taking a sip of his beer.

  "Hey, Dad. Hey, Mr. Brooks. Not yet. Carly wants me to go out." I reached for the bottle of coke in the fridge and poured myself a glass, then turned and leaned against the counter.

  "Ainsley, I told you, just call me Spencer. This Mr. Brooks nonsense can stop. It will just be a formality when you start at the office." He winked and picked up his beer, taking a swig, and once again his eyes roamed over my body.

  "Excuse me for a minute. I'll get that drill you wanted to borrow, Spencer," Dad said, getting up off his chair and leaving the two of us alone together in the room.

  The air suddenly felt thick as Spencer’s eyes met mine. My eyes burned as the nervous flutter in my stomach started to rise. Then a loud ring finally pulled his eyes from mine and he began checking something on his cell phone that sat on the table in front of him.

  While he was reading, I couldn't help but let my eyes roam over his muscular arms and broad, strong chest. I was completely lost in thought as to what he must feel like when he cleared his throat and my eyes flashed to his face. I had no idea how long he had been watching me watch him, but the smirk he wore told me it had been a while. How embarrassing. I could feel the heat in my cheeks as his eyes met mine and then washed over my body.

  "Here it is!" Dad said, coming back into the kitchen and placing the drill on the counter. He sat back down, grabbed his beer, and took a swig, and then began talking with Spencer again.

  I slowly faded out on the conversation as I watched Spencer grip the neck of his beer bottle, bring it to his lips, and tip his head back, emptying the bottle’s contents. I couldn't help but watch the taught muscles in his forearm as he gripped that bottle, my eyes wandering to his large, muscular hands. A pulse of excitement ran through me as I wondered what it would feel like if they were on my body. Spencer placed the bottle on the table and his eyes wandered back over to me, and then he flashed that sexy smirk.

  "Oh, Ainsley, before I forget, do you think you could watch Nikki for me on the twelfth next month? I have that Valentine’s Day function I'm hosting for my clients, and it's my weekend to have her," Spencer asked.

  Nikki was Spencer's three-year-old daughter. He shared custody of her, and after he and his wife separated three years ago, I usually babysat for her.

  "Yep, sure thing. I've got to go call Carly back." I pushed off the counter and left the kitchen, turning quickly to look back at Spencer one last time. I noticed his gaze was firmly planted on my ass, and he quickly averted his eyes as soon as he knew I had caught him. I waited one second and as his eyes met mine. I smiled at him over my shoulder and continued down the hall, stopping halfway to listen to their conversation.

  "So, like I said before Ain's came in, you need a hot twenty-year-old to fuck her from your mind."

  "Where the hell am I going to find that? I'm over the hill."

  I swallowed hard as I listened. One thing Spencer Brooks was not was over the hill.

  "Come with me to this function on the twelfth, see what my company can do for you," he said to my father.

  "You want me to go, but tell me this, why don't you use your own company to find your twenty-year-old then if it’s so great?"

  "My company isn't for hookups. It’s for long-term, meaningful relationships, which is something I'm not sure I'm looking for right now."

  2

  Ainsley

  I let out a breath and went back into my room. Shutting the door behind me, I grabbed my phone and called Carly back. While waiting for her to answer, I grabbed the magazine I had purchased, flopped down on my bed, and began flipping through the pages.

  "It's about time."

  "Yeah, sorry about that," I said, continuing to flip through the pages.

  "So are you coming with us tonight or what?"

  I stopped as I flipped to the next page. In front of me was an ad for Finding Forever with Spencer on the ad himself. Spencer Brooks owned Finding Forever, the elite matchmaking company in the world and I would soon be working side by side with that hunk of a man. "Holy shit!" I exclaimed.

  "What?" Carly asked with excitement behind her voice.

  "You're never going to believe this. Do you have the new Cosmo mag?" I questioned, looking over the ad and all the manly goodness that was Spencer in the photo.

  "Yeah, I think so, why?" I could hear the annoyance in Carly's voice.

  "Get it and look at page twenty-five."

  "Ainsley, really, I just need to know if you are coming tonight. Seriously, babe, I need to get the reservations placed. The place fills up so fast."

  "Get the magazine!" I gritted out between clenched teeth.

  I studied the page and that was when I noticed in small letters what appeared to be an ID handle for his dating site.

  "What am I supposed to be looking for?" Carly huffed.

  "My God just go to page twenty-five. You'll see." I could hear Carly flipping through the pages, and finally she stopped.

  "Yeah so, it’s your Greek god, so what."

  "Look up in the corner. Looks like it could be his ID handle, RomanticAlpha42."

  "Oh, Ainsley!! You're crazy. As if the man is going to post his real handle to the world. Get a grip. Now are you coming with us tonight or not?"

  I slid off my bed and wandered over to my desk and opened my laptop, quickly typing in Finding Forever in the search bar. Within seconds, the page had loaded. "Um, sure, I guess."

  "All right got to go. Oh, and, Ains, don't do anything stupid."

  I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone.

  I turned my attention to the website and immediately noticed they offered a free two-week trial. That would be all I would need. I clicked on “signup” and began setting up my profile, quickly creating a username, and hit next. My stomach sank when the next screen loaded. They wanted credit card information.

  "Fuck," I muttered under my breath. I nervously tapped my finger on the mouse, trying to decide what I should do. I looked back over at the magazine advertisement, and then grabbed my purse. "What could it hurt? I'll just make sure I cancel before the free trial period is over." I mumbled as I typed in my credit card number. A few more clicks and I was in, staring at a bunch of questions that needed to be answered before they would let me start searching. Forty-five minutes later, BabyGirl89 had been born.

  I hit search and typed in RomanticAlpha42, and within seconds, I was faced with a pictureless profile. My stomach churned with excitement that I could barely contain, and I grabbed my phone, dialing Carly.

  "Let me guess, you've changed your—"

  "It was real."

  "What was real?"

  "RomanticAlpha42."

  "Ainsley!"

  "What?"

  "Tell me you didn't message it."

  "Not yet. I just created a profile."

  "Oh, Ainsley, do not message that profile. Besides, you need to get ready for dinner."

  "Too late
!"

  "Too late?"

  "I just sent my first connection email!"

  3

  Ainsley

  February 12

  RomanticAlpha42: I'd love to bury my face between those creamy thighs of yours

  I felt my cheeks heat as I smiled to myself. My fingers tapped quietly against the keyboard as I typed out a response to yet another message from RomanticAlpha42. We had been messaging now for a solid month. I hit send and relaxed back against my bed’s headboard. I flipped through the channels on the TV while waiting for a response. I had just settled into an episode of Outlander when my phone rang.

  "Hello."

  "So has the love of your life, Mr. Spencer Brooks, or should I say RomanticAlpha42, confessed his love for you yet?" Carly giggled into the phone.

  I rolled my eyes as I checked to see if I had any new messages.

  "It's just harmless fun. Plus, I don’t even know if it’s really him!" I said as I clicked open the new received message and read the words on my screen. Truth was, I had ended up paying for a month because I had enjoyed speaking with whoever it was I was speaking to so much.

  "I can't believe you’re actually engaging with people on there." She laughed.

  "Not people, just one person," I corrected.

  Carly let out a loud laugh. "Yeah, sorry about that. One person you believe to be Spencer. So, what does Mr. Romance have to say? Is he as smooth as you'd hoped?"

  I had barely heard a word Carly had said as I read the message that sat on my screen. "Oh my God, you’re not going to believe this."