Falling, Freestyle

by Arend, Vivian

  Jamie held on to his control by a thread, his aching cock reminding him he wanted much, much more.

  “You’re amazing, Chelsea, so beautiful.” Braden kissed her neck.

  “Please…”

  The tormented need in her voice made Jamie put aside his caution. No longer waiting to see what Braden would do, he rolled her to the mattress and covered her with his body. Skin to skin, her warmth felt so right under him. He closed his eyes for just a second to appreciate it fully.

  He kissed her again, this time a slow and thorough exploration. Tongues and lips and open mouths. He breathed her in and the darkness and fears he’d experienced all faded away. She was right. It was a celebration—of life and love and a passion that had been far too long unanswered.

  The stroke of a hand down his back reminded him Braden was still with them, and yet…he couldn’t stop. All his focus was on Chelsea, on the pleasure he found in her, the pleasure he wanted to bring her.

  “You should see what I see.” Braden’s deep voice rustled through the air. He touched them both, his hands skimming Jamie’s side. Hovering where Jamie cupped Chelsea’s breast. The contrast of their fair skin and Braden’s darker coloring—his rougher, beefier hands—showed clearly. “You two look like erotic Greek statues, porcelain fine and breathtakingly beautiful.”

  Chelsea laughed softly as she snaked out an arm to catch Braden around the neck. “And you’re Poseidon, rising from the sea to love us both?”

  “Hmm, it’s not difficult to love you, baby.” He kissed her, lowering himself to lie skin to skin against Jamie’s side. Jamie watched in fascination until Chelsea squirmed under him, pressing her breast up into his hand, and he shifted to be able to reach her easier. He nibbled and licked, listening to the soft noises of pleasure she made, hearing Braden’s whispered words of love.

  Then a hand cupped his own neck, threading through his hair. Braden took control of him and turned their faces toward each other.

  “I want to taste you.” Braden paused, and Jamie’s heart leapt to his throat. Slowly, inch by inch, Braden approached. He gave ample time to retreat, but Jamie wanted this. Wanted it as much as he wanted the woman lying under him.

  With a satisfied hum, Braden brought their mouths in contact. Rougher, more forceful than touching Chelsea, but just as right. Jamie ignored everything else and simply felt—the caress of Chelsea’s hands as she explored his back, the harsher touch of Braden callused hand trailing over Jamie’s lower back and buttocks. The softness of her body under him as she opened her legs and he nestled tighter between her thighs. The curls on her mound were wet from his mouth and her juices, and they coated his cock as he rocked his hips slowly. He was enveloped by both of them. Surrounded and satisfied.

  He’d never had such a rich and full experience before in his life and he reveled in it.

  “I want you. Want you now.” Chelsea pressed upward, her rigid nipples hard against his chest.

  Love takes courage. Loving two men takes twice as much.

  The Boys Next Door

  © 2010 Sierra Dafoe

  At seventeen, Tommy Ambinder was Annie Parsons’ first love, the center of her world. Almost. There was a secret spot reserved for Judah, Tommy’s elder brother. On the day she discovered Judah wanted her, as well, the aftermath drove Annie out of town—and a wedge between the men she loved.

  Now, haunted by guilt, Annie has returned to Melgrove, Montana with one hope in her heart—that twenty years has overcome the rift between the Ambinder boys. If they’ve mended fences, maybe she can repair her own life too.

  Tommy’s missed Annie all these years, but he never realized how much until one glimpse reignites the passion that time hasn’t quenched. Something else hasn’t changed, either—half of her heart still belongs to Judah.

  Now, with Annie poised to run again, history is threatening to repeat itself—unless one of them has the courage to break free of the pattern and blaze a new trail that’s wide enough for all three.

  Warning: This book contains all the volcanic intensity of first love, searing-hot sex scenes, and two brothers sharing the one woman they love!

  Enjoy the following excerpt for The Boys Next Door:

  Judah froze in shock as Annie buried her face against his chest, her arms wrapped around him so tight he could feel her heart thudding. “Oh God, Judah!” Tears were streaming down her face as she babbled, “I thought you were gone, I didn’t know what happened, the house was all empty and I didn’t know where you were!”

  She looked up at him finally, a frantic sort of happiness shining in her eyes. “How are you? How’s Tommy? Is he okay? God, I’ve missed you!”

  He wanted to shake her. He wanted to hit her, almost. For twenty years she’d been gone, vanished off the face of the earth, and now here she was smiling at him, telling him she’d missed him?

  How in twenty years could she have changed so little? She was still as impulsive, still as heedless of consequences, blissfully unaware of how her actions affected others.

  He wanted to kiss her so badly he almost couldn’t breathe.

  He held himself rigid, not returning her embrace. Uncertainty bloomed like a shadow in the hazel depths of her eyes, and she dropped her arms, looking away.

  Judah felt his heart lurch back into motion as her gaze released him, the sudden rush of blood making his head spin.

  Annie Parsons. If she’d changed at all in twenty years, he couldn’t see it. Oh sure, there were a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, and the lustrous brown hair which her mother had always kept neatly trimmed now hung in a careless shag cut he wasn’t sure he liked. Unthinkingly, he started to reach out and brush the dust from her hair—then Judah stopped himself, fisting his hand at his side.

  What in hell did he think he was doing?

  Gritting his jaw, he jerked his chin at the hillside. “Came over to see what spooked the livestock. What are you doing here, Annie?”

  She gave him a quick, almost guilty sidelong glance, then shrugged, her gaze tracing the low, weathered hills. “I just…wanted to see how you were, I guess. I’m sorry I panicked. When I saw the house…”

  He nodded to himself. He knew that panic. It had flared in his own gut the day she’d disappeared, making him push past her crying mother and storm up the stairs, determined to see for himself.

  Her abandoned room, her empty closet, had hit him like a hard punch straight to the stomach. Even now, the memory could still rock him if he wasn’t careful.

  “It just got to be too much to keep up, after Dad died.” His terse explanation didn’t begin to carry the weight of grief of those days, the way everything had seemed to fall apart all at once. Even her parents had moved away shortly thereafter.

  But Annie must’ve caught an echo of his emotion anyway—she looked at him, soft concern showing in her hazel eyes. “When did it happen?”

  It was his turn to shrug, looking out over the pastures. “Fifteen years ago.” Five years after you left. Where did you go, Annie? He kicked at a clump of dried leaves clotting the porch, making them rustle. “It’s amazing how quick things go to pieces out here.”

  She was still watching him, her gaze seeming to cut straight through the wall he was trying so hard to keep between them. The warm compassion in her eyes stroked him in a way that both angered and soothed him.

  Damn it, Annie, stop looking at me like that.

  “I’m sorry, Judah.”

  “Yeah, well…” He nodded briefly, pushing away her sympathy. “Ma’s doing all right. She’s sixty-three now, can you believe it? Sixty-three and still gets up at five a.m. to feed the chickens.”

  “And Tommy? How is he?”

  Judah froze at the question. Annie’s eyes were wide, direct, the concern shading their hazel depths not only for him now. Her voice was so gentle, damn it, asking about Tommy. As if she still loved him. As if she still cared.

  Anger flared inside him, along with the old, twisted jealousy. If she’d ever truly loved Tommy
, if she’d cared about him at all, she would never have let Judah kiss her beneath the bleachers. Never would have let him touch her as he’d dreamed of doing. Never would have run to his arms in the night…

  Judah cleared his throat. Against his will, his gaze flicked downward, tracing the line of her thighs through her faded jeans. “He’s all right. He’s in Washington these days. Bought a farm there. He’s married now.” He watched Annie closely, wanting to see her reaction.

  If his words surprised her, she hid it well. “That’s great. When was this?”

  “Seven, eight years ago. Something like that. He’s got kids,” Judah elaborated. “Two boys and a girl.”

  Something flickered briefly in her eyes, but she only smiled. “That makes you an uncle. Congratulations.”

  “Yeah, I guess it does.” He cleared his throat again.

  “And you?” she asked. “How about you?”

  Her eyes were too soft. Too warm. Too lovely. Judah shifted uncomfortably and pushed back his Stetson. “Me? I’ll never leave Montana.” He snorted. “You know me.”

  “Do I?”

  Two words, one little question, and suddenly it seemed like there wasn’t enough air for his lungs. Never mind the vast blue sky above them, or the miles of open, rolling hills all around. Judah moved closer, his voice dropping half an octave. “I’ll always be here, Annie. You know that.”

  Her gaze rose to meet his, full of shadows. Maybe longing. Something thrummed in the air between them, and Judah stepped away quickly.

  Christ, what was he doing?

  “So, how long you in town for?” He leaned against the porch railing, absently noting the flaking paint. Ought to do something about that, he thought, then: Why bother? It’s not like it matters.

  But it still broke his heart.

  Annie shrugged. “Just overnight, really. I booked a room at the boarding house.”

  He nodded. “You drive out here?”

  “Yeah. I parked up on the ridge. I…I didn’t want anyone to see me.”

  Which was probably smart, Judah admitted. Even thoughtful. Maybe Annie had changed, if only a little.

  Suddenly, he wasn’t so happy with the idea.

  Then he pictured her sliding pell-mell down the slope, sending dirt flying and scaring the cattle half to pieces. He had to fight to suppress a smile. Yeah, that was the Annie he remembered, all right.

  “Well, come on,” he said, straightening. “I’ll give you a lift.”

  She was silent as he drove down the long, dusty ranch road, hopping out without his asking to open the livestock gate at the far end. Her hair hung in her face, and in the afternoon light she looked as slim and nimble as she had at seventeen. She grinned at him as she climbed back into the truck. “Thought I forgot that, didn’t you?”

  Judah merely grunted and turned onto Route 32.

  But as they rattled up the dirt track running up to the ridge, he heard himself saying, “If you’re bored tonight, go on down to the pool hall. They put in a dance floor,” he added awkwardly. Shut up, Judah!

  “Are you going to be there?”

  “Dunno. I doubt it.”

  Hell no, Judah, and what in hell are you thinking?

  “Well, maybe I’ll think about it, then,” she answered. “Thanks for the lift. And say hi to your mom for me. I miss her.” Opening the door, she hesitated. “It’s good to see you, Judah.”

  He didn’t answer, and after a moment she climbed out. He waited as she walked to what looked like a brand-new Buick, started it up and backed it around. Her eyes met his once through the windshield, and she waved as she drove past.

  He didn’t wave back.

  Judah watched in the rearview mirror until the Buick was out of sight. He wasn’t going to the pool hall. It had taken too many years for the hole in his chest to stop aching constantly. Too many sleepless nights wondering where she was, how she was. Wondering if she was all right.

  She was fine, and that was enough. He didn’t need to know more than that. He didn’t want to know more.

  And he sure as hell didn’t want her getting anywhere near Tommy.

  Unwrapping these gifts could get a girl in a world of trouble.

  What She Craves

  © 2010 Anne Rainey

  Cape May, Book 2

  Tory Jeffries likes things simple. A modest home, a web design business, easygoing men. Except there’s never one around when she needs one—and she needs a date for the event of the year, her friend Con Walker’s annual Christmas party. Not that she couldn’t go alone, but spending the evening as a third wheel doesn’t appeal.

  When her old friend Devon Mason turns up dateless as well, she anticipates a fun evening with her flirty, bad-boy buddy. Then Devon and Con offer her a Christmas treat that her inner slut begs her not to refuse. A night with both delicious, muscular men. In Con’s bed. Naked.

  After growing up together with an up-close-and-personal view of life’s ugly side, it doesn’t surprise Devon and Con that they’ve fallen for the same woman. They’ve watched her date men who aren’t nearly good enough for her, and now it’s time to show the fiery blonde just how perfectly she fits in their sinful fantasy sandwich. When they take their first long, slow taste, something extraordinary happens. They fall in love.

  Now all they have to do is convince their suddenly skittish princess that fairy tales can come true…

  Warning: This book contains one sassy heroine getting two tasty alpha heroes for Christmas. Expect some crazy hot m/f/m sex and a Christmas Eve party that’ll blow your stockings clean off.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for What She Craves:

  Tory snorted and sat back in her chair. “You can’t be serious, Summer. It’s your first Christmas with Gage. I’m not crashing that little party, no matter how many times you ask.”

  Inwardly, Tory cringed. How pathetic, having her best friend take pity on her on Christmas Eve. It made her feel like a little lost orphan or something. Even though Summer didn’t mean it that way, Tory still wanted to crawl under the rug. Or better yet, have some handsome man walk through her front door and sweep her away. Sort of the way Gage had come into Summer’s life. He’d brought life back into her friend’s eyes. Tory was grateful to him for that. A little envious that she didn’t have a guy treating her as if she hung the moon, sure, but happy for Summer. Gage was exactly what Summer needed. The death of Seth, Summer’s first husband, had put the woman into a deepfreeze. Gage had come along and thawed her out.

  Summer reached across the table and swatted her hand. “Don’t be so difficult. Gage said he’d love to have you over, and you know I always enjoy your company.”

  Tory forced a smile to her lips as she picked up her mug and sipped her hot coffee. The temperature was in the teens outside, and it wasn’t much warmer in her drafty kitchen. As she looked around, taking in the nearly fifty year old house, Tory sighed. It’d been her grandmother’s house until she’d passed away and left everything she owned to her only granddaughter. Tory knew she should renovate the old two-story, but she couldn’t bring herself to change even the color of the paint, as hard as the bright yellow was on the eyes, much less let some construction crew tromp around getting drywall dust all over her Nana’s prized area rug. Her grandfather had bought the oval rug when he’d had to go overseas on a business trip. It wasn’t the most beautiful thing, with the puke-green-and-rust floral print, but her grandmother had loved it, cherished it. No, Tory thought with fondness, the house would stay as it was, well-loved, if a little drafty at times.

  Tory took another sip of her coffee and desperately tried to come up with a logical reason why she couldn’t spend the evening with the lovebirds, when the phone rang. Ah, saved! Tory set her cup back down and stood. By the time she’d reached the living room, the phone had rung twice more. She grabbed it from the cradle and said, “Hello?”

  “Hey, sugar. What’s up?”

  Tory smiled as a little tingle skated down her spine. She’d recognize that devilish v
oice anywhere. One of her best buds, Devon Mason. Sweet, funny, cute as hell and just ornery enough to make her forget the little pity party she’d been throwing herself. “Hi, handsome. Not much, just talking to Summer.” Tory walked back into the kitchen to find Summer rinsing her cup and setting it in the sink.

  Devon groaned. “Is she still trying to get you to go to her place tonight?”

  “Yes,” Tory bit out, as she picked up her own cup and brought it to the sink.

  “Nothing quite like watching new lovers to make you feel like a total loser during the holidays, huh?”

  Tory turned and leaned against the counter, Summer’s gaze glued to hers. “Uh, yeah. Something like that.”

  “So, how about you come with me instead?”

  Instantly perking up, Tory asked, “You’re going to Con’s party?” Their mutual friend Con Walker held an annual Christmas party. The event was talked about for weeks beforehand and months afterwards. No expense was spared when Con threw a party. She’d gone every year and always had the time of her life. This time around, she had no date. Going alone seemed…beyond sad.

  She heard what sounded like shuffling papers in her ear, then Devon said, “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  Summer motioned to the other room, indicating she was going to the bathroom. Tory nodded. Once alone in the kitchen, she asked, “And you don’t have a date? That surprises me, Devon.”

  Devon made a tsking sound into the phone. “I wouldn’t ask you if I had a date.” He paused, then added, “And why should that surprise you? It’s not like I’m a player, Tory.”

  Okay, now she felt bad. “That’s not what I meant. It’s just that you always have a date at Con’s Christmas Eve Gala.”