by Tara Nina
Double Dilemma
Tara Nina
Emma Jean Dupree is a woman on the verge of turning forty. Repeated dreams of having sex with two men keep waking her at night. She takes it as a sexual sign and decides to pursue the two gorgeous men in her life.
David Delaney’s a police detective with boyish, all-American charm and good looks. But he has a straitlaced sexual nature that needs Emma’s experienced hand to undo. Earl Lightfoot is every woman’s Native American dreamboat of a hunk. He has a secret that Emma uncovers with an innocent slap. Earl likes it rough—and wants to be dominated.
Separately, she samples their sexual attributes only to discover she wants them both. Will they comply and fulfill her fantasy? It takes a strong-willed woman to convince two men to love her as much as she loves them.
Two men, two cocks, oh my.
An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication
www.ellorascave.com
Double Dilemma
ISBN 9781419932533
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Double Dilemma Copyright© 2010 Tara Nina
Edited by Grace Bradley
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book Publication December 2010
The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.
With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.
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This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.
Double Dilemma
Tara Nina
Acknowledgements
Thank you, Grace, for all your expertise. You make writing fun and exciting.
Again I have to thank one of my fellow authors and best friend, C.H. Admirand. If it hadn’t been for a few drinks and a funny discussion about sex toys neither this book nor Devilish Delights would have happened.
Thanks to my family for your support and understanding.
Trademarks Acknowledgement
The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:
Dumpster: Dempster Brothers, Inc.
Rohypnol: Hoffmann-La Roche Inc.
Chapter One
A loud moan woke her. Emma Jean bolted upright. Perspiration beaded her upper lip as she glanced around the bedroom. Air whished from her lungs on a heavy exhale of relief. No one stood in her room. She was alone. The moment she moved, she noted the moisture between her thighs and realized who and what had woken her.
Great, just great. Another sex dream.
Damn! In her case, masturbation had taken on a whole new level. Now she was even doing it in her sleep. Emma Jean punched her pillow and plopped back down.
God, what was wrong with her? She needed a man, that’s what. Self-gratification wasn’t cutting it anymore. Emma Jean closed her eyes and let the remnants of her dream filter to the forefront of her thoughts. What exactly had she been dreaming that had gotten her so wet and made her sexually excited to the point she’d even moaned aloud?
Emma Jean concentrated on the images that popped into her head. Hands caressed her. A hot, moist mouth suckled her breast while another entertained her clit. Her eyes widened. Two men. Oh Lord, she’d been dreaming about having sex with two men. Again.
For the third time this month, she had this same dream. But not just any two men would do, she knew who she wanted to fulfill this fantasy. The problem was, she doubted they’d comply. Earl had been working at her sex toyshop, Devilish Delights, for over a year and hadn’t asked her out or even attempted to make a move on her. And the other hot man in her life, David, only recently started popping in and buying assorted items. She rolled her eyes at the thought. How many times had she hinted she’d enjoy teaching him the proper function of each device?
So far, neither made a move. Frustration rippled from her core to pool in her already aching pussy. If one of them didn’t do something soon, she felt as if she’d explode. Then it hit her. What if she made the move?
Heat slithered up her spine as excitement filled her soul and her mind whirled with possibilities. Maybe both these hot younger men needed a firm hand to guide them in the world of ecstasy? And she was just the woman to do it.
Emma Jean tossed the covers off and rolled out of bed. On the brink of turning forty, she intended to obtain the perfect gift. Even if it meant slipping on the persona of a dominatrix and whipping her men into sexual dynamos. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought. Her dressed in tight black leather—no make that red, she decided. A whip in hand and binding ropes for the men who refused to comply, images of both her subjects tied to her bed flashed in her head.
Whatever it took to make her dream come true, she decided as she headed for the shower. Ideas stormed her thoughts. Plots brewed and images of two healthy studs branded themselves to her brain. God, she hoped this worked. Every ounce of her shivered at the prospect of Earl and David pleasuring her.
Two men, two cocks, oh my.
* * * * *
Emma Jean chewed her lower lip as she organized a new display. Shades of lavender silk material hung as the backdrop and covered the bottom of the storefront window. Because of recent trouble with someone who protested her shop, she removed all sexual devices and switched to a simple, yet sensual, more elegant display.
Damn prude. She huffed under her breath. The person didn’t even have the balls to confront her personally. Instead they filed a complaint with city hall. The officer who visited the shop that morning simply suggested she remove the sex toys from the window and hopefully that would end the situation.
So here she was bending to comply with some uptight hypocrite in order to keep the peace. Emma Jean ground her teeth as she hung two soft organza negligees, one virginal white and the other pale blue. In a small act of defiance, she grouped several stacks of bath products with fun body paints and scented oils that heated when blown upon. After scattering white and pink silk rose petals around the stacks, she exited the window and went out front to examine her work.
Elegant yet a portrait of pure vanilla sex was the first thing that came to mind when she looked at it. Hopefully this wouldn’t deter customers from her store. She couldn’t believe she’d changed her window because some anal retentive… An idea struck and she couldn’t stop the grin as she hurried inside. Emma Jean gathered two items from the specialty case and reentered the window. After placing the items, she returned out front for a final inspection.
“That’s a rather odd placement for anal beads.”
She knew the owner of that soft Southern drawl even before she turned. Emma Jean tilted her chin and looked up at Earl. His average height of five-foot-eleven cleared hers by four inches and helped hide her eyes from the morning sun. She’d been so preoccupied with the window she hadn’t noticed his arrival.
“What, you don’t think silver anal b
eads make a nice necklace?” she jested and caught the amused glimmer in his eye.
“Around the neck wouldn’t be my first choice, but if that’s what you prefer…” He didn’t complete his thought as he held the door open for her.
Earl seemed feisty this morning and she liked it, especially since she’d made her decision to up the pursuit on her terms. She stepped closer to him, slid her finger along his strong jawline.
“Oh, and where would you prefer them?”
The deepest shade of red crept up his neck, to his ears then flushed his cheeks and she knew he hadn’t expected her reply. From the look in his eyes, she doubted he meant to speak his thoughts out loud. But for some reason, he had. Emma Jean grinned then turned and walked inside the store. She heard him clear his throat as he followed.
“Why, um…” He stalled for a moment then continued. “Why did you change the display? Didn’t we just switch it to the latest floggers, whips and BDSM apparel for this month’s design two days ago?”
Though she tried not to let her inner turmoil show, her shoulders sagged as she plopped onto the stool behind the counter. She lifted a copy of the complaint filed with town hall and handed it to him.
“Seems someone finds our selection of sexual appliances distasteful and inappropriate for a front window display.” Her fingers thrummed the countertop as she continued. “You know, I’ve been in business for over five years and this is the first written complaint anyone has actually had the audacity to file against me.”
“It’s not signed,” Earl pointed out.
“They removed it from my copy.” She shrugged. “I guess the town hall personnel were afraid I’d take vigilante action against the self-righteous prude.”
Earl snickered as he returned the letter to her. It surprised her when he laid his hand over hers and stopped the nervous thrum of her fingers. For a split second she thought she saw something akin to lust in his hazel eyes, but he quickly dropped his gaze to their hands before she got a good look.
“Try not to dwell on this, Emma Jean.” The tender brush of his thumb across her knuckles sent shivers up her arm. “It’s only one complaint in five years. I’d say that’s not bad.”
He lifted his gaze to hers and Emma Jean couldn’t help but enjoy the intensity of his stare. She could only imagine how hot and wild those hazel eyes would look during sex. Would the Native American blood in him make him a more sensual lover? Curiosity flowed through her veins igniting a strong desire to explore every nuance that was Earl Lightfoot. One sign of interest from him and she’d lock the front door, take him into the back and let one half of her fantasy unfold.
As if he heard her thoughts, he immediately released her hand, turned his gaze toward the back room, cleared his throat and said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a few renovations to do on those vibrating silver balls your cousin Shelley tested.”
Though disappointment slithered through her soul at the separation of hands, Emma Jean had no intention of letting the attraction fade. Not this time. Over the past year, Earl showed a slight interest, then for some odd reason always backed away. Well, she intended to make sure it didn’t happen today. As he sauntered toward his workshop in the back corner of the storage room, Emma Jean followed.
“I didn’t know there was a problem with those. It was my understanding she found them quite enjoyable.”
“They seem to have a slight glitch.” He pulled the balls out of the top drawer of his workbench and moved the magnifying glass stationed on an adjustable arm, which was attached to the workbench, into position over the balls.
When he didn’t elaborate, she pressed him for an answer. But instead of simply asking him, she leaned in close. Making sure her breasts brushed the back of the taut biceps of his right arm, she asked on a husky breath which thickened her Southern drawl, “That glitch wouldn’t be a perpetual orgasm, would it?”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed before he replied in a rush, “Umm, no. It would be more of a tiny electrical shock.”
Emma Jean stepped back. “A shock? How?”
Never before had she been so grateful her product tester was her cousin. Anyone else would have probably sued her over an issue like this. But then again, she did sell several items in the BDSM section labeled shock therapy for the naughty submissive.
“It seems maybe one of the balls wasn’t completely sealed against moisture properly. At least I’m hoping that’s the answer.”
Deciding to push this discussion further, Emma Jean stood as close as possible beside him as he sat on his stool at the workbench. With a light sensual touch, she slid her fingertips down his arm and stopped at his hand that held the balls under the magnifier.
“Two sets of eyes might come in handy when searching for such a tiny…” She paused deliberately, lifted her gaze to his and said one innuendo-laced word, “slit.”
The dart of his tongue across his lips made her hunger to capture it between her teeth and give it a tender, playful nip. As usual, his shoulder-length, black hair was pulled back, causing the premature gray streaks at the temples to be more pronounced. Emma Jean fought the urge to twist it in her fist and tug his lips to hers and take what she wanted. Instead, she waited for his next move. He had to know she was interested.
Hell, both nipples were rock hard against the thin material of her shirt. Since she wore an open-cup, uplifting bra, her nipples were exposed to the inside of the shirt and she knew due to their size, he couldn’t miss them. Emma Jean hovered in anticipation of his kiss. When his lips parted slightly, so did hers.
“I…” He moistened his lips again then said in a whisper, “I think I’m quite capable of handling these balls.”
Emma Jean deliberately laid her other hand on his thigh and pressed in closer until their faces were millimeters apart. His eyes seemed to darken and she sensed the heat increase between them. His subtle shift on the stool let her know she did have some sort of effect on him. If she slid her hand just a tad, she felt certain she’d find solid proof of just how much.
Slowly, she massaged his thigh in tiny innocent motions as she replied, “Earl, you just let me know if there are any other balls you need assistance with.”
He cupped her chin, which surprised her, and stilled all motion. His eyes narrowed and if she read him right, which she hoped she did, pure desire filled his face. He brushed a light kiss across her lips as he whispered her name. Emma Jean’s heart pounded. Her lips ached for more as her fingers brushed the impressive lump in his jeans.
The bell over the front door jingled and his face drained of all emotion. Damn, why hadn’t she locked that door? His hand dropped immediately from her chin. “I’m…” He shoved from the stool, crossed the storeroom and entered the bathroom.
His scent of wild musk and earth lingered in the air around her. The solid sound of the lock click slapped Emma Jean from her momentary daze. She spun on her heel and marched from the storeroom to face the reason her fantasy had been rudely interrupted.
* * * * *
He knew he shouldn’t be working here. The temptation was way too great. For years he’d managed to resist. He’d kept his affliction—as he called it—under control. Until a little over a year ago. He rolled his eyes at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. If he hadn’t decided to visit the new All Natural Grocer at the opposite end of the strip mall, he never would have found Emma Jean’s store and fallen off the self-prescribed wagon.
Earl shook his head in disgrace. Why did he think the urge would remain controllable if he limited himself to just building and creating sexual devices instead of using? Using. Sounded like a drug addiction. Silently, he hated to admit what ailed him most was more than an addiction. It lived and breathed pure sexual energy.
It had a name. Emma Jean.
He wet his hands, ran them across his face then stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. It was those damn anal beads in the window and her wearing those hot-fitting jeans that had thrown him off his game this morning, he
decided as he dried his face.
The sight of Emma Jean standing in the morning sun with her hand on her hip and her back to him was delightful. It started his workday off right. Her attention had been focused on the storefront window. It gave him the opportunity to enjoy the view of her perfect bottom without her knowledge of his stare. Each step he took closer made him itch to caress what he imagined would be sheer perfection in a pair of jeans.
And even better out of them, whisked through his thoughts before he could stop it. For as long as he could remember, he’d been an ass man. In his opinion, Emma Jean’s was the finest sample of feminine perfection he’d ever seen. Every day in her presence was an act of pure strength in resistance for him.
Why the hell did he put himself through this sexual torture? He snorted. He knew why. Punishment for the sins of his past. Somewhere in his twisted mind maybe he truly thought placing himself in the midst of everything he enjoyed and not partaking in its pleasures would somehow eradicate his sinful urges. Earl shivered, took a deep breath and tried not to follow that path of thought.
Closing his eyes, he attempted to block the sight of those silver anal beads hanging around the neck of the negligees from his thoughts, but couldn’t. Indecent images of what he wanted to do with those beads filled his head even though he dug the heel of his hands into his temples to stop it. They didn’t belong around the neck. No, they belonged lubed and inserted one by one into the entrance of his gorgeous boss’s tush. The image of him pulling them out just as slowly as he’d placed them shot through his brain and he groaned.
This was not good. For over a year he’d managed to subdue his urges and desires for Emma Jean. But this morning, something seemed different about her. They’d bantered playfully before, but she’d never shown an interest like she did today to act upon any of it.