Naked Love

by Jones, Lisa Renee

  We were recovering from the party, then we’d slowly pack and get ready to leave for our honeymoon in Cannes next week. Giselle had been the one to suggest we have a break between the wedding and the honeymoon, and she was right...of course. Racing through life never gave you more time. My wife was very wise about how we lived our life. So much wiser than her years. She was an old soul in a new body.

  My fingers settled on the messy knot of her hair and caressed the silkiness. "A little sparrow told me that there's something buried for you on this beach somewhere."

  Giselle tossed a glare at her wrist. This was an ongoing joke between us that her sparrow tattoo liked to tell me secrets more than her. She sighed. "That ungrateful sparrow never tells me anything."

  Nevertheless, she got to her feet and started walking around, peering down at the sand for clues, digging her toes in places.

  "Do I get any sort of hints?" she called over her shoulder.

  "You get one stick of a hint," I called back.

  Giselle stopped at the place in the sand where a long stick was jutting out and grinned over at me. "But how am I supposed to—"

  I tossed a child's plastic pink shovel her way, which she neatly caught, just as I'd known she would.

  "I really have to earn this gift, no?"

  Propping myself on one arm, I said nothing, just winked. I could hardly wait for the magic moment when she found it.

  It only took a minute or so of gritty digging before Giselle paused. "A chest?"

  Getting up, I went to sit beside her as she lifted it out. "Yeah, you like chests, don't you?"

  She gave me a light elbow nudge before returning her attention to the chest. "It is beautiful."

  It had taken me a few days of stealth antique hunting before I found one that fit the bill. Old looking, but not so grimy you wouldn't want to touch it. Like some impressively preserved piece you might find at the bottom of the ocean that had belonged to some old pirate captain. That was another thing I'd learned about Giselle in the past few months: one of her childhood dreams, adorably, was to own a pirate ship—but to be a good pirate, as she'd taken great pains to stress to me.

  "Maybe it's only an old chest with nothing inside it," I teased.

  "Only a chest. We'll see about—"

  She opened the lid. "Ohhh," she breathed as she gathered up the green fabric in her hands and pulled it to her chest lovingly. Then she stood and let it flow down as a deep sigh spilled from of her trembling lips.

  "Gage, you didn't."

  "I totally did." I grinned at my wife feeling quite impressed with myself.

  In her hands was the insanely expensive crochet dress in a soft green we'd stumbled on in a local artisan shop downtown. The intricate twines of the crochet had been carefully handcrafted with extra-fine detailing. And though Giselle would never justify such a cost for a dress no matter how much she loved it, I had no problem whatsoever with the price. Surprising her with something perfect I'd found for her was my prerogative as her husband—as I'd told her many times.

  "Don't make me wait too long," I called to her. "Let's see it on you."

  Holding the dress to her body, eyes tearing up, she turned away and started to put it on over her bikini. This was another of her adorable traits. Even though we were husband and wife and I'd seen her cry at least four times now, she still hated being seen with tears in her eyes. Apparently insulting her whenever she cried had been another one of Henri's many cruel habits.

  I sighed. Yes, it would take probably a lifetime for Giselle's scars regarding her ex to heal, but I was more than up to the task of helping her with that. Every time I woke up next to her, I thanked God for sending her to find me. That's what I believed, so it became my truth. She had been sent from heaven or somewhere to find me…and save me. To be mine. Forever.

  When she returned, my jaw literally dropped. Mind. Completely. Blown.

  The crochet dress looked like it had been constructed with her body in mind. The placement of every finely woven hole was perfection incarnate my fingers itched to sink into.

  She cocked her hip. "What do you think?"

  "Crochet is definitely your thing."

  "You think?" she asked, all arched-brow innocence.

  In one swift motion, I hoisted her up, so her legs could wrap around my torso.

  "I know," I said, a second before my lips crashed into hers.

  The rest was preordained.

  I walked us off the beach and back inside the house as fast as I could get us there.

  The urge to feel and kiss every crochet-exposed hole, every delectable piece of bare skin, was my only driving need right now. My lips were drawn to the nub of her nipple spiking through her suit and the crochet, while my hands danced up and down her beautiful body, stroking to claim all the parts of it I was able.

  Giselle's hands went to work on my board shorts, undoing them but not taking them off…yet.

  Disengaging herself with a taunting smile, she stepped back and slowly reached down to grab hold of the hem before pulling her new dress up over her head carefully. "I don't want to snag this beautiful thing. I love it so much, but I love you more for giving it to me." I waited while she folded it and carefully placed it on the back of the chaise.

  We weren't going to make it upstairs to our bedroom before we started fucking. The couch had worked for us the first time, and it had definitely been used plenty of times since then, so it would do perfectly now.

  Adrenaline spiked in my blood as she came forward to meet me, her hands at the back of her neck pulling the tie of her bikini top. A move she had perfected to an incredible degree of sexiness by the way. As it fell to reveal the perfect tits I worshipped as often as I got the opportunity, she had managed to get the tie at her back undone so the whole top dropped with a soft swish to the floor.

  Jesus.

  * * *

  "Oh, oui." The words spilled from her lips as my tongue made love to her clit.

  That was when I really got to work. Feasting on my wife's pleasure, spurring her release forward, pushing her for more upon more. Every part of me hyperfocused on this one goal, this one act. To hear and feel her sweet body lose it under me.

  So, I took my time, but just enough so her release would be continuous. I swirled my tongue and fingers in perfect tandem, to a subterranean beat. Our bodies grooved together. Her hips thrust against me as her head dug back into the cushions, all while moaning decadently in French.

  Until the shaking of her body became sporadic. A reaction to what she couldn't hold back any longer. The piercing pleasure I was sucking and ramming into her at top, deep-stroking speed. And then she came. Her body flailed up, and then collapsed back, the shakes taking over her, becoming her, and finally, finishing with her.

  Then was I settling myself over her. Our lips found each other.

  Yes, it was time.

  Our lips were the first to meet, but when my cock kissed her wet slit, that was when the real shuddering began. It was nothing short of life-giving. The first notes of the beautiful tune that you knew was your favorite.

  Before I could thrust in deeper, she was already grinding against me as another shake ripped through us, both of us clutching each other. Our bodies tinged with rapid-fire shots of pleasure and this feeling—this fucking nirvana. Of being with the one you were meant to be with. Being with the only person that would ever matter.

  Our bodies moving in tandem. Stroking and grasping hands. Notes of thrills and laughs and moans. All interspersed amidst that primal motion of in and out, flesh claiming flesh. That more and more. That cresting pleasure driving us forward to the end.

  And so, I kept on taking her as she was giving herself to me. We swapped positions like breathing, swapped them so many times I lost track. It was all lost in the flow. Her legs up and around me. Her hands ripping through my hair and her skin bristling to the touch. Her softness bearing my roughness. Her flowery scent in my head. Her and her and her.

  Until I was not only fu
sed into her, I was her. We were. And like this, as us, we came.

  The aftermath was a timeless spell of blissed-out bodies trembling with remembering. Fucking rapture.

  She whispered the sweetest words to me. "Très cher Gage, je t'aime."

  My dearest Gage, I love you.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading HUSBAND MATERIAL!

  Ready for a steamy Billionaire? Then you will love FILTHY RICH, available now!

  Billionaire Caleb Blackstone lives in the glamorous world of wealth and success, with every material luxury. But the moment he sees Brooke Casterley, none of that matters. Caleb is filled with a raw, undeniable need that he can’t ignore…for a girl who is so completely different from everything and everyone he’s ever known.

  Only Brooke isn’t looking for love. She knows all too well just how much damage the wrong guy can do. Still, what sane, broke British girl can resist the charms of an incredibly sexy, chivalrous billionaire? What starts as flirtation quickly turns into all-consuming passion. Nothing could have prepared her for the searing heat of Caleb’s touch—or just how much she craves him.

  Their whirlwind romance is the stuff of high-society fantasy—but for every moment of pleasure, there is a cost. Past mistakes and tragedy shadow them both…and falling for him might be the kind of trouble she can’t afford.

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  Turn the page for the super sexy menage between two handsome cowboys and one woman trying to find her place in the world in SMALL TOWN SIREN.

  Small Town Siren

  Lexi Blake writing as Sophie Oak

  Two cowboys looking for love…

  Jack Barnes and Sam Fleetwood met in foster care. Over the years, they’ve become best friends and partners. They share a business as cattle ranchers and a house. There’s only one thing missing: a woman to share. The men are sure they’ve found that woman when Abigail Moore arrives in their small town, Willow Fork, TX.

  A woman trying to find her place in the world…

  Abby left her hometown twenty years before under a cloud of scandal. She’s raised a daughter, forged a new life for herself, and is ready for the next phase when she meets the handsome cowboys.

  One small town that’s ready to explode…

  They’re a dream come true—Jack is the sexy Dom, and Sam the playful lover. It’s everything she’s ever fantasized about. There’s only one problem. She’s still not welcome in Willow Fork, and someone is willing to kill to keep her away.

  Prologue

  Willow Fork, Texas

  20 years before

  Abigail Moore held her plain white T-shirt up just under her breasts as she stared at herself in the mirror, trying to see any sign of the change to her body. Shouldn’t she be able to see some kind of alteration? After all, her whole damn life had changed with a single pee.

  Pregnant. She was pregnant and Adam was dead, and what the hell was she going to do?

  She let the T-shirt drop. There was zero change to her body yet, but she could see it in her face. Seventeen years old. She was seventeen and her life was over. Everything they’d said about her was true. She was reckless and stupid and she was going to pay the price.

  She heard the door to the trailer open and braced herself. Her mother was home. It was time to tell her mother that she had screwed everything up.

  Abby wiped away her tears. She had a high school diploma and roughly three hundred dollars from her summer job saved up. She could work through the pregnancy and try to start community college classes after she had the baby.

  She would go slow. Slow but steady.

  It would be easier to tell her mother about the baby if she had a plan. It was a shitty plan that mostly involved hoping and praying everything went okay, but it was something of a plan.

  Bright smile. She would convince Momma that everything was going to be all right.

  The smile died on her face when she realized it wasn’t her mother standing there in the living room.

  It was Ruby Echols. Adam’s mother. She was standing in the middle of the trailer Abby had grown up in wearing one of her best Sunday suits and looking around the place like she was trying not to touch anything.

  She wasn’t alone. The sheriff was standing with her. Behind her, really. The sheriff was in full uniform, his hat on his head and that Colt at his side in view.

  “I’m sorry, dear,” Ruby said, her voice calm and even, as though she was here to talk about the church charity function. “I knocked, but no one came to the door.”

  Because Abby had been crying in the bathroom. “I didn’t hear you. My mom isn’t here. She’s still at work.”

  Abby glanced at the clock. Her mom wouldn’t be home for another half hour. Her stomach twisted. Ruby would likely know that. Abby had come to understand that Ruby Echols knew absolutely everything that went on in Willow Fork.

  A serpentine smile curled up Ruby’s lips. “Oh, when she comes home is up to you, dear.”

  God, Adam had hated his mother. Don’t look her in the eyes, he would say. You might turn to stone. I can’t wait until we blow this town, baby. We’re leaving and never looking back.

  Adam Echols. So beautiful. So reckless.

  She would never love another man. How could she? Adam had been the love of her life and now she had to face it all alone.

  “What does that mean? And you, Sheriff Lyle? Are you suddenly interested in enforcing the trailer park home owner’s association codes?” She wouldn’t put it past them.

  Since she’d started dating Adam, Ruby Echols had done everything in her power to make Abby’s life miserable. She’d made sure the only grocery store in town wouldn’t sell her anything. Abby had to drive forty miles to find a fast food place that would hire her. She’d gotten more tickets for traffic violations than she could keep up with. It wouldn’t surprise her at all if the sheriff started ticketing her for not keeping the grass a certain height.

  “Don’t you turn that smart mouth on me, missy,” he growled her way. “I’ll have you in a jail cell and I promise you won’t like it.”

  She turned her chin up. “You can’t arrest me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  He stared her down. “I think I can come up with something.”

  Ruby held a hand up. “I don’t think that will be necessary today, Sheriff. I think Miss Moore will prove not to be a problem after today. Tell me something, Abigail. Was the test positive?”

  She felt her eyes widen. “What?”

  “The pregnancy test you had that whore friend of yours buy for you this morning. Was it positive?”

  Her hands started to shake. God, she’d just found out about her baby. Mere moments before she’d been considering all her options and now fear rushed through her system as icy cold as the stream that ran on the outskirts of town. “That’s none of your business.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” Ruby said, her tone entirely too reasonable for this conversation.

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “It means that you can make this easy on yourself or it can be hard on everyone.” She clutched her bag in one hand, patting her helmet of icy blonde hair with the other. “You can leave this town and never come back and your mother will continue to have a job and a pension and a home, or you can decide to stay and she will lose all of those things. Right now her employer is waiting to hear from me. If I call before five, he’ll fire her today. Imagine that, Abigail. Your poor, uneducated mother trying to find another job that pays even half as well. And she’s a diabetic. I’m afraid her health care will go.”

  The thought turned her stomach. “She didn’t do anything to you.”

  “Oh, but she did. She gave birth to the slut who killed my son.”

  Abby could argue that Adam had done that himself. Adam had been the one who’d driven away in the middle of a thunderstorm. She’d begged him not to, but it wouldn’t make a difference to the Echols family. Everything was Abby’s fault.

  Ruby wasn’
t finished. “In addition to your mother suffering if you don’t leave this town, I promise if I see you walking around here with a bastard in your belly, I’ll come after it. I won’t love it. I won’t consider it mine. I’ll make sure that child knows every single day what a whore its momma was. You really should have taken me up on my former offer.”

  Her former offer had been five thousand dollars if Abby would leave Adam and never see him again. Abby had turned her down flat.

  “And if I leave?” It took everything she had not to run back to the bathroom and throw up. How was this happening? How was Adam dead and gone and his child growing inside her? How was her world falling apart?

  She’d fallen in love with a boy. That was her only crime.

  “Like I said, I don’t want that bastard. I’m not even certain it’s Adam’s. Probably not given that everyone knows you spread your legs for half the county.”

  She hadn’t. She’d given herself to Adam because she’d loved him, but Abby knew it didn’t matter.

  And she knew one thing. All that crying in the bathroom and trying to figure out what to do about her pregnancy had been silly. She knew now. All it had taken was Ruby Echols’s threat to make her understand she was going to be a mother.

  She would never let anyone hurt her child.

  “I need a few days to settle things.”

  Ruby shook her head, though that helmet of hers moved not a centimeter. “You leave today. You have ten minutes to pack, not that there’s anything in this hellhole that’s likely worth having. I’ve got an envelope containing a bus ticket to Dallas and one thousand dollars. The bus leaves in thirty minutes. You’re either on it or I’ll start paperwork to ensure that baby in your belly comes home with me.”