by Jayne Rylon
Did he think that children might be a reason for them to fall apart again? As far as Casey was concerned, the world needed more love, in whatever form it took. “Why not? You and I know that when a child is starved for attention and affection, bad things happen. With three people to split the responsibilities and lavish them with love, how could that hurt?”
They’d always talked about having a proper family, one where they could right the wrongs they’d endured, so she didn’t think he’d take off if she admitted she could envision kids filling up those other bedrooms. You know, not today or tomorrow…but it was a possibility for someday.
“I’ll be back in a bit.” Jace spun on his heel and strode from the room. “Ian, come on.”
“Where are you two going?” she called. Hadn’t she convinced them?
“Gotta pack enough to stay until we figure out where we should live for good.”
Casey threw her head back and laughed. She hugged herself as she rested against the warm glass and ran her hand over and over Goliath’s fur.
Now she truly had it all—a successful career, a couple of people who could become close friends, two men who made her taboo fantasies come true, and a future she couldn’t wait to share with them.
Moving to Beekman Place had been the best decision of her life.
More Penthouse Pleasures
Coming soon!
Check out the rest of the Penthouse Pleasures books for five more stories about Casey’s neighbors.
Voyeur - August 2017
Daddy - September 2017
Sinner - October 2017
Fetish - November 2017
Bound - December 2017
Excerpt from Daddy
Penthouse Pleasures #3
Kent stepped into the police station and walked to the desk.
“I’m Kent Grayson. I was called about a young woman named Christina Mills.”
“Oh, yeah,” the sergeant said. “Detective Rosco wants to talk to you. He’ll be right out.”
Kent paced. He wasn’t used to being kept waiting, and ordinarily he’d have one of his staff handle this sort of thing. Not that this exact sort of thing had ever happened before. He didn’t usually consort with the type of person who got picked up by the police in the middle of the night.
But Christina was the daughter of an old friend and she was in trouble.
“Mr. Grayson.”
Kent looked up to see a man in torn jeans and a leather jacket, full beard walking toward him.
“I’m Detective Rosco,” he said as he held out his hand and Kent shook it. “I understand you’re Ms. Mills stepfather.”
Kent didn’t allow the shock of that statement to affect his expression.
“Where is Christina? Is she all right?”
He couldn’t help remembering the last time he saw Christina. Her long blonde hair swept back from her face, held by a clip at the back of her head. Her heart-shaped lips turned up in a smile that set her innocent face aglow. It had been her sixteenth birthday and he’d come to visit so he could give her a special gift.
She’d always been fascinated by the fact he lived in New York City. She’d loved the idea of living somewhere as exciting as New York. It was all she’d ever talked about. So he’d given her a necklace with the I Love NY logo in gold. When she’d opened it, her eyes had gone wide and she’d thrown her arms around him.
“She’s fine.” The detective led Kent through a door, then down a hallway. “But she’s gotten herself into some trouble. That’s why I wanted to have a talk with you.”
As they walked, Kent saw several women sitting on a bench in a waiting room. Hookers by the look of them in their skimpy, suggestive clothing. One young woman’s gaze locked on him and she stood up.
Fuck, she was stunning, despite the slutty dress she wore. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders in sunny waves and the tight dress that hugged her perfect body was cut low in front, showing the generous swell of her creamy breasts. And it was so short it showed every inch of her long, shapely legs.
She surged toward him.
”Daddy,” she cried as she threw her arms around him.
What the fuck?
Then he realized. This was Christina.
“Please,” she whispered desperately against his ear. “I told them you’re my stepfather. Please go along with it.”
Fuck, he could barely think straight. She was clearly distraught and he’d wrapped his arms around her in an automatic need to comfort her, but his body tightened at the feel of her breasts pushed tight against him. Making him want things he shouldn’t want. Tickling a need buried so deep inside him, he dared not let it loose.
He grasped her shoulders and eased her back, then gazed into her shimmering green eyes.
“Christina, what’s going on?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. It’s not as bad as what they’re going to tell you.”
He narrowed his eyes. One, he wished she’d stopped calling him Daddy because… damn it… it was seriously messing with his head. Two, how the hell had the sweet young girl he’d known become… a prostitute?
“Sit down, Ms. Mills,” Detective Rosco said to her. “Mr. Grayson, let’s talk.”
He led Kent to a room with a table and closed the door.
“She told us you’re her stepfather but that you and her mother are separated. She didn’t know how to get in touch with you.”
“I haven’t seen her or her mother for several years. So what is she being charged with?”
“We picked her up outside a bar for soliciting. We have one witness. The guy we caught talking to her. He said she came on to him, offering to go back to his hotel room for money.”
Detective Rosco leaned back in his chair.
“She has no priors, but she also has no permanent address and no job.” He leaned forward. “I know this must be disturbing for you. I just want to say that I’ve seen a lot of young woman on the street but whatever’s going on with her isn’t that bad. Yet.”
The thought of Christina fucking men for money seemed pretty bad to Kent. In fact, the thought ate away at his gut, making him feel sick.
The detective leaned forward, looking Kent square in the eyes.
“I think there’s still time to straighten her out and get her back on the right track. If you’re willing to get involved. I could put her in jail, but I’d rather turn her over to you. If you’ll agree to give her the time and effort to try and turn her around.”
“And what do you have in mind?”
“I’d like you to agree to keep her with you for no less than a month. Spend time with her. Show her you care. Maybe she just needs some stability.”
“I can do that.”
“Good. I’m glad to hear that.”
Want More Steamy Menage Romances?
If you’ve enjoyed Taboo, check out another of Jayne’s menage romance series Powertools and the related series Hot Rods. Powertools kicks off with Kate’s Crew. Read it by clicking here.
Nothing’s sexier than men with power tools.
Sultry summer heat has nothing on the five-man crew renovating the house next door. No one could blame Kate for leaning out the window for a better view of the manscape. The nasty fall that follows isn’t part of her fantasy—but the man who saves her from splattering the sidewalk is definitely the star.
When Mike personally attends to her injuries, she realizes her white knight in a hard hat has a tender side, giving her no choice but to surrender to the lust that’s been arcing between them since day one. In the aftermath of the best sex of her life, she whispers her most secret desire: to be ravaged by his crew.
She never expected Mike would dare her to take what she wants—or that the freedom to make her most decadent desires come true could be the foundation for something lasting…
Warning: This book may cause you to spontaneously combust as five hot guys bring a woman’s wildest fantasies to life during one blazing summer affair.
Excerpt From Kate’s Crew:
Kate wiped her palms on her paint-splattered cutoffs before adjusting her grip on the rebuilt window casement. A flash of tan skin drew her attention to glistening muscles. They rippled over five sexy frames as the crew renovating the townhouse next door hammered nail after nail into their first-story roof, just a few feet below her perch.
From inside the bedroom where she worked, she inched to the edge of the ladder rung then craned her neck through the opening in front of her for a glimpse of the intricate tattoo spanning Mike’s broad shoulders. Instead, she caught him reaching up to their stash of supplies for another pack of shingles. When her gaze latched onto the drop of sweat that slid along his neck, she forgot to breathe. She watched in fascination as it journeyed over his defined pecs and six-pack abs. After it was absorbed in the ultra-low-riding jeans snugged to his trim hips by a bulging tool belt, she heaved a sigh of relief.
Kate swiped at a blob of paint that had plopped onto her wrist unnoticed while she’d ogled Mike. Her tongue moistened her lips as she imagined licking a similar trail down his body. The edge of the fresh trim gouged her thigh as she strained for a better view. The gasp she made busted her. His head lifted, catching her spying. Great, now she’d never convince him to take it easy with his persistent innuendo or date invites. And, no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn’t indulge either of their desires.
Mike threw her a dazzling victory grin. The anticipation sparkling in his cocky stare blasted a shockwave through her, screwing with her balance. The ladder wobbled then tipped. She probably could have righted herself if she hadn’t been standing on tiptoes to maximize her view of the scenery. In slow motion, she watched his expression morph from flirtatious to horrified.
Kate flung out her arms in an attempt to catch the frame before she tumbled through it but the momentum swung her around. Her temple grazed the custom-made pewter latch she’d installed the day before. She hung, suspended in midair, as Mike rose from his crouch. The other guys began to turn toward her, but he was already sprinting for the edge.
Terror froze her insides when he launched himself across the ten-foot gap between their houses. Then she spun away, losing sight of him. She braced for imminent impact.
Shit, this is going to hurt.
Everything happened at once. Air whooshed from her lungs when she slammed, on her side, onto the roof. She rolled, flexing her ankles in an attempt to find purchase that would halt her skid toward the brink. But her knee wrenched at an awkward angle while she continued to rake over the slate. Her hand caught the ridge of an attic vent, slowing her descent, but gravity overcame the tenuous hold. Her frantic fingers recoiled from the sharp metal edge.
The gutters rushed closer, her last hope. After that, she’d have to pray the evergreen shrubs would cushion her, preventing any broken bones. The heels of her work boots hit the aluminum edging but kept going. Her legs dangled in thin air.
Then a strong hand banded around her wrist. Her arm nearly jerked from the socket as she lurched to a stop. Kate shoved on the edging shingles with her free hand, fighting to stay on the roof.
“Son of a bitch!” Mike hauled her the rest of the way up.
To keep reading Kate’s Crew, click here.
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About the Authors
Jayne Rylon is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. She received the 2011 Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award for Best Indie Erotic Romance. Her stories used to begin as daydreams in seemingly endless business meetings, but now she is a full time author, who employs the skills she learned from her straight-laced corporate existence in the business of writing. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband, the infamous Mr. Rylon. When she can escape her purple office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky, and–of course–read.
Opal Carew is the author of over a dozen romance stories in which she makes offerings of hope, success, and love to her readers. Opal loves crystals, dragons, feathers, cats, pink hair, the occult, Manga artwork, and all that glitters. She earned a degree in Mathematics from the University of Waterloo, and spent 15 years as a software analyst before turning to her passions as a writer. Opal lives with her husband and two teen-aged sons in Ontario, Canada
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Avery Aster pens The Manhattanites, a contemporary erotic romance series of full-length, stand-alone novels, and the naughty new adult prequel companion series The Undergrad Years. As a resident of New York City and a graduate from New York University, Avery gives readers an inside look at the city’s glitzy nightlife, socialite sexcapades and tall tales of the über-rich and ultra-famous.
Jayne Loves To Hear From Readers
www.jaynerylon.com
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Also by Jayne Rylon
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Night is Darkest
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PARANORMALS
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Paranormal Double Pack Boxset
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