ALSO AVAILABE FROM
Hookup
by Anne Marsh
Max O’Reilly loves to watch Maple Washington pirouette in nothing but her ballet slippers. But when Maple’s ex posts her video to Max’s company’s hookup app, he’s ready to destroy the man as only a billionaire computer genius can. Playing Maple’s fake boyfriend--unless Max gets hooked forever...
The Sex Cure
by Cara Lockwood
Billionaire Wilder Lange is 100 percent sex...and yet, sex columnist Harley Vega doesn’t care. After eliminating her job, the gorgeous businessman professes to need her expertise. Soon, Harley is burning the sheets with the sexiest man on earth. Wilder shows her unimaginable pleasure...and possibilities...
Hotter on Ice
Blackmore, Inc.
by Rebecca Hunter
Alya Petrova welcomes the explosive chemistry between her and her enigmatic bodyguard, Henning Fischer. Now that he’s accompanying her on a modelling job in Sweden, Alya can turn her illicit fantasies into a sexy reality. But is their red-hot passion enough to overcome the scars of Henning’s past?
Slow Hands
by Faye Avalon
All April Sinclair did was tell dangerously gorgeous lawyer Logan Fitzpatrick that she’s being sued. By a celebrity. For a faulty vibrator. So why is her legal consultation turning wickedly suggestive? Now Logan’s sensual hands start to unravel all of April’s careful rules in business, pleasure...and her heart.
In For Keeps
by Taryn Belle
PROLOGUE
“THIS DRESS,” DEV SAID, trailing his hands beneath it up to the lacy edge of her panties, “needs to be on the floor.”
Kiki laughed and squirmed away from him to the other side of the sofa. “You said you were going to show me around, rock star,” she said, gesturing toward his studio equipment.
Dev gazed longingly at the woman he’d known for less than an hour. Their eyes had met across a room full of people—his room full of people—and her pull on him had been as irresistible as a rare earth magnet. She was obviously gorgeous, but it was her confidence that had attracted him to her. A brief conversation had revealed a quick wit and a straightforward, no-games personality. The habit she had of pulling her hair to one side to bare her neck, the way she parted her sensual lips when he spoke to her, had had his mind going to lustful places within minutes.
“Later,” he said. “Right now we’ve got way better things to do.”
“But you’re missing your own party,” Kiki said, bringing a finger to her mouth. She held it there, licking the tip suggestively while electricity jolted down Dev’s spine. She was making him fucking crazy, but soon she would be his. He only hoped he wouldn’t crush her. At six foot two he was tall, and he kept his body muscular with regular workouts. She couldn’t be a shade over five-three, a perfect china doll in a pink minidress. Her large blue eyes, freckles and long strawberry blonde hair added to the effect of innocence.
But he already knew from what had led them here, desperate for privacy, that she was anything but. Thirty minutes of making out on his private beach like a pair of hormonal teenagers had nearly brought him to his knees. By the time she’d taken his hand and pressed it to her pussy in a silent plea, he’d actually been worried about his own control. No—this woman was no innocent doll. She was red-hot, in charge and fully attuned to both of their gratification. “This is my party,” Dev said. “We’ve got everything we need. Music, fun and the best fucking present I’ve ever gotten.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” he said, unbuttoning his shirt.
“That’s a lot of pressure. I guess I’d better deliver.”
“Somehow I’m not too worried.”
He dropped his shirt onto the sofa, not missing the hungry rove of her eyes over his chest. Drawing one knee up, she let her leg fall open just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her thong: black silk edged with a cream lace border. His cock surged forward in his shorts, aching for her touch. She licked her lips, which were swollen and pink from the intensity of their kissing. He leaned toward her and took them again. She yielded to his tongue, and he let it build until she was biting ravenously at his mouth. A sharp charge zapped up his thighs. The pleasant, dull ache in his groin was becoming a throb. He needed her. Needed her breast in his mouth, her long hair wrapped in his fist, his cock thrusting into her, her moans of pleasure in his ear. His entire body was vibrating with anticipation, an insane urgency to claim her. Something told him he was in for the fuck of his life, and it wasn’t just because he hadn’t bedded anyone in over a year. He had chosen her when he’d had no intention of sleeping with anyone tonight, and that in itself was a dangerous thing to consider.
Throwing her head back, Kiki slid a hand into her panties. “Ohh...” she moaned as she touched herself. He watched her, so overcome with desire he was practically trembling. “Was this what you wanted?” Pushing a finger inside herself, she closed her eyes and sighed rapturously.
It was too much to take. Dev grasped her wrists and pushed her hands above her head. Then he slowly lowered himself between her legs until he was pressing his cock, still caged in his shorts, against her pussy.
“This is what you want. Trust me,” he said, pushing into her rhythmically. He knew he’d hit her sweet spot when he was rewarded with a helpless whimper. Her wrists strained as she tried to reach for him, but he held them firmly in place. Then he brought his mouth down on hers for another slow, sensual kiss, ending it before it became too urgent. He wanted to prolong this delicious moment for all it was worth—not his usual MO. Normally he preferred quick and impersonal, but this tiny creature was bringing something out in him that had his head spinning. He wanted to fuck her like a wild animal and caress her gently at the same time. But most of all, he wanted her to experience the same pressing need that was melting his brain and firing up his insides like an inferno.
“It looks like you have a present for me,” Kiki said, looking down at his shorts. “Shall I unwrap it?”
“That would mean I’d have to let you go,” Dev replied, rubbing his thumbs in slow circles on the insides of her wrists. “And I happen to have you just where I want you.”
Her wide blue eyes teased him back. “I promise I won’t try to escape.”
Dev loosened his grip, and she unzipped his fly. He let her get a good look at his cock, perfectly outlined against his black boxers, before he reached for the hem of her dress. “Me first.”
He tugged the garment over her head and stared at her in wonder. Her breasts, encased in a bra that matched her panties, were the perfect size—still small, but not as tiny as the rest of her. Lightly dusted with freckles. Her rosy nipples strained toward him when he unclasped her bra. He hooked a finger around one and tugged, thrilling at her sharp intake of breath. “Yes, please.” Her hands, finally freed, went to the back of Dev’s head to bring his mouth to her breast. He flicked his tongue over it mercilessly until she was gasping. When she pushed her pussy harder into him, he pulled back. She made a frustrated sound.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, looking down at her face. He was pleased to see that her pupils were dilated with need. “Was there something else you wanted?”
“There sure is, rock star. Your tongue.” She brought his hand down to her panties. He could feel her wetness through the thin fabric, sending another jolt straight to his cock. “Lick my pussy just like that.”
He hooked his fingers around her thong, and she eagerly raised her bottom off the sofa. He slid the silky triangle down to her ankles. She was beautiful down there, too, a wet dream come true. “You mean right here?” he teased, hovering his hand an inch above her pussy.
She drew toward it like a magnet. “Yes, right there,” she gasped, grabbing his fingers and pushing them inside her. The intoxicating moan that escaped her lips was almost his undoing, but it was nothing compared to th
e feel of her warm wetness. Jesus. It was time. But his body wanted to rush forward and pull back at the same time to prolong the delicious tension.
Sliding his hands under her ass, Dev trailed his tongue up the inside of her thigh. When he reached the tense muscle that led straight to heaven, he stopped, making her wait for one more torturous moment. Then he flicked his tongue across her clit. “God, you’re sweeter than a strawberry,” he whispered. Before long, he found the exact pressure that brought those arousing moans of pleasure to his ears.
“Please, Dev. More, more, more—” Kiki gasped. He saw her hands open and close, open and close, like it was the last part of her body she had control over. Then she started to tremble, and he knew she was dangerously close. He pulled away from her. “Oh, no you don’t. Not without my cock inside you.”
Her eyes were wild with desire. “Give it to me. Now, Dev. Fuck me.”
He couldn’t have waited any longer if his life depended on it. Kneeling on the sofa with his hips at her eye level, he let his shorts drop to his knees. Her hips, which were squirming on the sofa in anticipation, stilled when she set eyes on his cock. “That’s a very nice instrument you have there, rock star.”
“Just wait till you feel it,” he said, rolling on the condom he’d snagged from an old stash on his way in the door.
“I’m dying to,” she sighed, back to gyrating her hips. He grasped them firmly to stop her, gripping her with the same claiming energy he felt charging through his cells. Her eyes widened a bit, and then her face relaxed into a smile. “My God, where did you come from?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing about you,” he said, letting her feel his weight on top of her. “You ready?”
“Never readier.”
He wanted to go slowly, but his consuming need for her halted that idea in its tracks. Next time, he thought above the roaring in his head. He positioned himself and entered her in one forceful thrust.
“That’s it,” Kiki moaned. “God, yes. That’s it. That’s it!”
It felt heavenly. Better than he’d even imagined. It took all of his control not to drive himself forward in pursuit of his own pleasure, and he could tell by her face that she’d been transported to a similar place. As he moved, her legs went around his waist and her hands went to his ass, pushing him in deeper. He could already feel a thin sheen of sweat coating his body, the result of passion and forced restraint. It felt so good that he never wanted it to end, he wanted to fuck her until his party was over and the guests had cleared out and morning came. And then he wanted to do it all over again.
“Fuck me harder, Dev,” Kiki cried breathlessly, her eyes hooking into his like talons. “Give me everything you have. Everything. Please.”
She’s there with me, Dev thought triumphantly. His to bring to the same heights of ecstasy he knew he was about to rise to. At his mercy.
Or was he at hers?
He slid a hand up her neck and over the bump of her slightly pointed chin. When her lips parted, he pushed his fingers inside her mouth. She made sweet sounds of greed as she sucked them. He quickened his pace, feeling the promising heat build at his center. Her moans spurred him on as their bodies slid, skin against skin. They were too perfect together. As different as their bodies were, they were made to move as one, made to leave each other gasping over and over again. And it made no sense that he was thinking that way. Who was this woman he suddenly wanted to know everything about, to feel the same desire that was consuming him? An hour ago Kiki had been a temptation, half an hour ago an object of lustful anticipation, ten minutes ago the best fuck he could remember. But now, as she pitched beneath him with a sharp cry and her pussy tightened hard enough to bring him over the edge with her, all that filled his head were three little words: more of her.
Copyright © 2020 by Cea Sunrise Person
Keep reading for an excerpt from Undone by Kelly Rimmer.
Undone
by Kelly Rimmer
CHAPTER ONE
Jess
GRANDMA CHLOE, IF you can hear me from wherever you are, you better be proud of me for sticking this out.
My grandmother died four years ago, but I will always live my life by the principles she taught me. She used to say that when your friends or family need you, you move heaven and earth to be there for them. That’s one reason I’m putting myself through the sheer torture of attending a wedding tomorrow—one of my least favorite things to do, by the way, especially in this case, because I’m not just a guest, I’m a bridesmaid. Oh, and did I mention this is the second time I’ve been a bridesmaid for this couple? I’m basically a saint for doing this.
Or maybe I’m doing this because the bride is basically a saint.
Yeah, that’s more like it, and that brings me to the other reason I’m putting myself through this clusterfuck of a weekend: the bride is my best friend, Isabel.
Isabel has big blue eyes and natural curls in a startling shade of ash blond. She’s recently turned thirty-five, but she looks much younger even on rare occasions like this one, when she’s wearing a full face of makeup. I think her anti-aging secret is her wholesome lifestyle, which is obviously an extreme measure and not one I’d ever be willing to try myself. I’m thirty-five too, but when I’m not wearing makeup, I look like an aged, freckled version of Pippi Longstocking, if Pippi partied way too much in her twenties.
It’s fair to say that Isabel and I are the unlikeliest of friends. She’s sweet, I’m sharp. She’s kind and gentle and softhearted, I’m… Well, I’m just not. We’ve had a lot of great times together, but we also have very different approaches to life, and every now and again I wonder why she puts up with me at all. What I don’t wonder about is why I’ve kept her around. Izzy is the lite version of humanity—all of the goodness, none of the calories. She’s easy to love, and for the most part, quite uncomplicated when it comes to her friends—a rare trait, and one I value highly.
I’d be lost without her. Completely, hopelessly lost.
Right now, maybe for the first time ever, I wish that Isabel wasn’t an exceptional human being. In fact, I’m wishing that last year, when she abruptly decided to divorce my business partner Paul, I’d have done what I usually do when people around me do something stupid—told her exactly what I was thinking. If I’d been harsh enough, she’d probably have cut me out of her life. Yes, I’d have been lost and miserable and sad and I’d have missed her forever, but then again, even feeling miserable and lost and sad would have been preferable to what I’m feeling right now.
Anxious. I’m anxious, which isn’t like me at all. I have no idea what to do with such an uncomfortable feeling simmering away inside me, and that’s why I’ve decided to drown it in champagne.
Izzy and Paul sorted their shit out—only this happened just a little too late to stop the divorce, and now they want to get remarried. So here we all are, at their brownstone in Chelsea for the rehearsal dinner before their second wedding takes place tomorrow. There are fairy lights and candles and big vases of fragrant white roses on the long table that centers their dining room. There’s soft, orchestral music playing on the speakers. Isabel and Paul are both radiant. It’s all so joyous and romantic that it makes me a little ill.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m utterly delighted that they sorted their shit out and they’re both happy again. It’s just that all of his haste and love and joy and renewal means that instead of ordering my first wine for the night in a bar somewhere and scanning the room for a companion, I’m sitting here chugging champagne like it’s water and watching the door as if it’s about to burst open to reveal some kind of Jess Cohen kryptonite.
Which it kind of is.
Because Paul’s brother Jake is due to arrive any second now, fresh off a flight from the West Coast, where he now lives. And…okay. I’m not exactly thrilled about being a part of this wedding party tomorrow, but it’s maybe just a tiny bit possib
le that my imminent encounter with Jake has more to do with my anxiety than the festivities themselves.
“What’s up with you?” The voice belongs to Marcus, my other business partner, who’s sitting to my right. He speaks quietly—keeping his voice low, no doubt so as not to upset the other members of the wedding party. Paul and Isabel are opposite me, and Abby, Marcus’s fiancée, is in the restroom. She’s very pregnant with twins. As far as I can tell, being very pregnant with twins means you spend half your time looking exhausted and terrified, and the other half peeing.
“What’s up with you?” I snap at him unthinkingly, and he slowly raises an eyebrow.
“Ho-ly shit,” he whistles.
“What?”
“Jessica Cohen—are you upset about something?” The incredulity in his tone suggests that the very idea of this is impossible. I’m kind of pleased that I’ve managed to fool him into thinking I really am some kind of superwoman, and also immediately depressed that one of my best friends has no idea I have any emotional depth at all.
“Mind your own damn business, Marcus.”
His expression grows serious, and he leans even closer to whisper, “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Things are clearly not fine,” Marcus says, frowning. He glances down at my hands, and I realize I’m tapping the table. I stop, but as soon as I do, my knee starts to bounce.
“Seriously, Marcus, leave it,” I whisper back to him, but the words come out as a half growl, half hiss, and he winces.
“Okay, okay,” he says, raising his hands in surrender. Just then, the doorbell rings and my heart is suddenly beating so hard and so fast I feel a little faint. I have butterflies in my tummy, and in my back. That’s not normal. Maybe I need medical attention.
Isabel squeals and stands.
“That’ll be Jake!”
And off she goes to answer the door, while I try to figure out just how upset Isabel and Paul would be if I tell them I can’t stay for their rehearsal dinner. But what would be big enough an excuse to justify such a dick move? I can’t say it’s a date. That would make me a bitch. What else is there? Why didn’t I come up with an excuse earlier?
Teach Me Page 16