by Jayne Rylon
Everly’s throat flexed as if she couldn’t manage to speak. Hopefully, she could already tell what he was going to say by the piercing clarity of his eyes, fully unveiled to her for the first time. He wished she could see straight into his soul and read the truth there. Maybe she could.
“I believe in us. I have faith in you. You saved me. I love you, too, Everly.” He framed her face with his hands and held her as if she were more precious than the diamond-encrusted Bible in the showcase downstairs when he sipped from her bruised lips. Because she was. “You’re like a light. From the first time I met you, you were able to brighten the darkest times of my life. When I thought I’d never see the sun again, you proved me wrong. I hope you don’t mind being the day to my night, because I don’t think this damage is going to go away anytime soon. It still hurts.”
She hugged him then, tight enough that he had trouble finishing his thoughts.
“But it hurts way less when you’re with me.”
“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She attempted to blink away her tears, but they spilled over anyway. So he kissed them away.
“Does that mean you’ll move in with us—me and Goliath, I mean?” Sure, it might have been too soon to ask. But Gabriel was approaching the situation with unflinching optimism. She seemed to think it looked good on him.
“Um…hell yes! Besides the fact that I am obsessed with this building and have been saving up for my own place here, I don’t ever want to be apart from you again. You make my life better, too. You know that right?”
Gabriel paused. He truly hadn’t considered what he did for her other than their recent bedroom games. “How?”
“You look out for me, take care of me, listen to me, have fun with me, love me… You’re everything I’ve ever dreamed of and more.”
“In that case…” Gabriel grinned. “Goliath! Here, boy!”
The dog was at their side in an instant, bounding onto the bed with hardly a limp. Like his master, he was overcoming his war wounds. He barked and covered their faces with excited doggie kisses while they laughed together.
“Welcome home, Everly.”
More Penthouse Pleasures
Check out the rest of the Penthouse Pleasures books for five more stories about Gabriel’s neighbors.
Taboo
Kinky
Sinner
Mentor
Voyeur
Fetish
Excerpt from Taboo
Penthouse Pleasures #1
“Congratulations, you’re officially the newest resident of Beekman Place. Welcome home, Ms. Clark.” The cheery front desk manager plopped a set of golden keys in Casey’s palm. Okay, so they probably weren’t really gold, but gold-toned and shiny as fuck. They gleamed like everything else in the fancy lobby.
Major goal achieved. Hashtag success.
Casey officially lived in one of the most prestigious neighborhoods in Manhattan. Take that, humble beginnings.
After thanking the manager, she twirled her new keys around her index finger, careful not to mess up her perfect manicure as she headed for the private elevator that led to the penthouse apartments on the highest floor of the iconic building. The ride straight to the top in the polished car seemed surreal.
The woman reflected in the mirrors—with her stylish blonde hair, perfect makeup, and designer suit—was a far cry from the bedraggled white trash girl Casey had been before she’d known better. Only her wide, bright blue eyes seemed the same to her.
Could this really be her life?
Damn straight it was. Just because she’d grown up in a trailer park on the outskirts of some Podunk upstate town didn’t mean she didn’t belong here. After all, she’d spent the past twenty years busting her ass to make up for that inauspicious start.
She’d sacrificed everything for this.
Casey swallowed hard as she thought of her mom. Lorna had drank herself to death before Casey could afford the fees for a fancy rehab facility. Not that her mother would have agreed to go anyway. Then there was the one guy she’d pictured herself spending the rest of her life with.
She scrunched her eyes closed until the unwanted ghosts of loved ones lost dissolved.
A cheery bing announced her arrival at the top. Casey exited the elevator and crossed the wide hallway to her penthouse’s door.
She aligned her freshly cut key with the lock. This was it. The moment she fulfilled the promise to her younger self about where she’d live when she grew up—a home without wheels, someplace classy. An apartment where she didn’t have to lie awake at night wondering if one of the neighbors would bust through her window and hurt her. Or worse, if her own mother would sell her to them for a six-pack.
Her fingers shook as she slid it home and shoved open the door.
Head high, shoulders back, she marched inside the penthouse apartment.
Her penthouse apartment.
Sure, she’d only been able to afford it because the previous owner had vanished along with his long-overdue mortgage payments. The bank had been eager to cut her a deal on the place. Nobody had to know that, though.
Could that be why her victory seemed so hollow? Because it wasn’t quite what it appeared?
Fuck that. It was still a huge accomplishment.
She hated the part of her that would never be satisfied, the side that constantly struggled to prove she was better than her roots. The piece that was a slave to ambition.
It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with growing up in a trailer park. Not in and of itself. It was the specific bottom-of-the-barrel neighborhood and the defeatist mentality that her mother had reveled in that had been the problem. Casey couldn’t stand the thought of succumbing to those innate tendencies. There had been plenty of times when she’d felt like giving up, slinking home, and learning to settle for something simple. Easy. A comfortable existence with the boy she’d fled from.
No. She refused to give in to the weakness she’d inherited.
Feet spread wide in five-inch spike heels, hands on hips, and shoulders back, Casey tossed her mane over her shoulder. She admired the city laid out before her like it was her domain. Hers for the taking. Except she’d already conquered it.
She’d graduated Columbia Law School in the top one percent of her class before a major venture capital firm recruited her to join their team as a corporate lawyer specializing in mergers and acquisitions. So far she’d been instrumental in seven takeovers and had even earned shares of the businesses she’d helped take over. Just last month, she’d been promoted to the head of her department when her mentor had retired.
It would have been easier to climb the outside of the sleek skyscraper she now called home. At times she felt like she’d clung to the path upward by her fingernails. But it had been worth it.
It was one of those moments—the defining sort—in a woman’s life. Or it should have been.
Instead, Casey stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows, staring out onto the city far below her while wondering how she fit in. From way up here, everything seemed so distant, separate from the heights she’d struggled to elevate herself to.
Had she taken things too far?
Maybe there was more to life than work, promotions to more stressful positions, and ever-increasing bonuses. A fancy car, expensive meals at world-class restaurants, and even a luxurious penthouse apartment didn’t mean as much if there wasn’t anyone around to share her success with.
She wished her mom was here to see it, even if she would’ve been too drunk to understand the momentousness of the occasion.
A companion of the sexy male variety to share it with would be nice, too.
Casey promised herself she’d build an online dating profile and at least take a peek at a few eligible bachelors as soon as she’d finished unpacking and settling in. It could be fun to focus on finding a partner who could enjoy the perks of her newfound lifestyle. Someone to cheer her on and be proud of her accomplishments. Someone she could do the sam
e for.
Otherwise, what was the point of having all this?
Getting laid couldn’t hurt either. It’d been far too long since she’d had a decent orgasm provided by an actual man instead of a battery-operated boyfriend.
There she went thinking about the guy she’d left behind. Sure, he’d been gruff and immature, wild and crass. He’d also been gorgeous, and fucked like no one she’d been with since.
Casey rubbed her palm over her stomach, trying to squash out the emptiness there.
She nearly convinced herself it was simply hunger. After she’d finished devouring delivery from the top sushi joint in the city and the emptiness lingered, she knew it was something a lot harder to fix.
Well, shitcakes.
Click HERE to keep reading Taboo.
Excerpt from Kinky
Penthouse Pleasures #2
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.”
Click HERE to keep reading Kinky.
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.