by Jess Dee
Unaware of Paige’s self-imposed deadline, Trent and Mason scheme to get Paige on their yacht for a once-in-a-lifetime voyage with one goal in mind: break the news that they’re ready for something more than casual—and hope she doesn’t run like hell.
It’s a delicate operation that’ll require close attention to which way her emotional winds are blowing. One wrong word, and their paradise-perfect arrangement could be lost in an instant.
Warning: This book starts with the heat turned way up high. Two men entirely focused on one woman’s pleasure. One woman stepping outside the box to please her men. An exotic resort suite featuring an erotic piece of furniture that makes ménage a trois even hotter than usual. Really.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Paradise Found:
Paige stared him in the eye. “Sex in a pan.”
He laughed. “That’s the dessert?”
“The name is a mutation from six in a pan, for the original six layers, but the taste is downright orgasmic, if you make it right.” She ran a finger along the edge of the bowl, scooped up a smear of the chocolate sauce onto her fingertip and offered it to him.
He swallowed hard.
“This isn’t a good time for you to stop what you’re doing, is it?” He forced the words past a throat suddenly tight with need.
She shook her head.
Fuckit. He sucked her finger into his mouth and moaned. The dessert was tasty, but having her finger to suck and tease, to be able to watch her eyes widen and hear her breath catch as he twirled his tongue around the digit? Torture.
He let her pull back, her finger escaping with a pop. He shook off the haze of lust threatening the production of the delicacies. Hold off, caveman.
Instead, he grinned at her. “If they’re individual sex servings, does that make them masturbation pies?”
Paige rolled her eyes. “God. You are not helping me name them.”
“Jerk tarts?”
“Trent!”
“Cream—”
The shot of, appropriately enough—whipped cream—hit him in the mouth, and he sputtered to a stop, eyeing her evilly.
She lowered the piping bag, fists dropping to her hips. “Behave. Let me pop these crusts in the oven, and then we can talk about your fascination with self-pleasure.”
Hmm, now there’s an idea. Not his pleasure, but hers. That was something he could get into. He stepped back complacently, licking his lips. Paige poked him as she passed by to re-wash her hands thoroughly. She returned to the counter, working quickly with the pastry dough. Effortlessly, she formed intricate flowerlike cups, one after another resting on the paper lining the cookie sheets.
He studied her face, loving the way her intent concentration made a tiny furrow appear between her eyes. She was smiling, nodding as she placed another edible art form onto the tray, and he realized this was a form of artistic expression. The beauty she created not only pleased the eyes but the palate and all the rest of his senses. She was a fully sensual creature, and he loved being around her. Enthusiasm and sensuality shone through everything she did.
He couldn’t be any more certain. This thing between them was far more than a physical attraction. He was head-over-fucking-heels with the slim seductress. He would do everything he could to make sure she stayed in his life—even if it meant a few more unusual solutions, like those offered by Mason’s gung-ho, madcap, anything-goes, both-feet-forward attitude.
Hmm, an attitude that was remarkably like Paige’s.
“I bet that’s why you guys get along so well.”
She straightened after placing the second pan in the oven, that little secretive smile teasing the corner of her mouth again. “What are you talking about? Who?”
“You and Mason. You’re both totally open and game for anything.”
Paige’s heartbeat leaped upward again as he caught her fingers. She’d slipped them under the faucet, adding a shot of soap to clean off the butter clinging to them. He lathered her up, threading his fingers through hers, his touch firm and yet sexual as he touched each digit in turn. Her mouth went absolutely dry.
They didn’t seem to be able to be in the same room without wanting each other. “You’re not such a prude yourself, Trent.”
He crowded closer, his arms caging her, hands rocking over hers again and again. Splashes rose to soak the front of her blouse. He planted kisses along her neckline, and she leaned to the side to allow him to maneuver.
Instead he spun her and locked his lips on hers. Oh Lord, she couldn’t think when he did that thing with his tongue. Taking total control of her mouth as if he were starving and only she could satisfy his hunger. He licked and nibbled and explored—ownership in every touch. The sound of the running water grew faint below the roaring of the blood in her ears. His wet hands slipped onto her back, the fabric sticking to her skin. He held her by the upper arms and slowly separated their bodies, his lips clinging with heat and moisture until the last possible second.
They stared at each other. She knew she was grinning, and the expression on his face—sheer happiness. As if he was exactly where he wanted to be, and life was good.
She’d put that expression in his eyes, at least partially, and for one wild second she nearly blurted out that she loved him.
“Knock knock.”
They both spun toward the door, Trent settling her tightly against his chest. The warmth of his body heated the wet spots on her clothing.
Mason raised a brow as he approached. “Am I interrupting? Fair dinkum, it smells delicious in here.”
“Paige is cooking up a storm.”
Mason walked the length of the room with any hesitation, not stopping until he was pressed firmly against her.
“She always cooks up the most mouth-watering mischief.” He lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her. A momentary buss on the lips, just enough for her to taste him, tease her senses. “What’s next on the menu? That’s what I want to know.”
He dipped his head again and took his time opening her lips to his caress. A series of small kisses along her jaw, a butterfly soft touch to the corner of her mouth. A tantalizing stroke of his tongue over her lower lip.
A low level of excitement and delight accompanied his teasing touch. She was totally surrounded, boxed in by two solid male torsos. Trent’s erection pressed hard into her right butt cheek, and the longer Mason kissed her, the more his interest rose as well. She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him tight. Twisted her hips slightly, rubbing both of them, slow and deliberate. She might be encircled, but she still had a say in this adventure. It looked as if there was no need to prolong the wait for one of her favorite parts.
Being totally cared for by two men. Four hands bringing her delight, stroking and guiding her pleasure in ways she’d never dreamed possible before getting involved with them.
Paige pulled her lips free and Mason leaned his forehead against hers. Trent’s fingers caressed her hip slowly. They both waited, patiently. Time paused, their three bodies slowly becoming more attuned to each other as their breathing synchronized. Her anticipation rose—there was some specific mischief she had in mind, although it was actually Mason who was the engineer of this afternoon’s coming escapade.
She could hardly wait to see him explain the sex chair that graced the center of their suite. Forget the details of how it got there, she wanted to know everything possible about using the chair itself.
It takes more than a rock star to rock your world. Sometimes you need a friend.
Tropical Sin
© 2011 Lexxie Couper
Bandicoot Cove, Book 3
McKenzie Wood has just spied her ticket out of tabloid journalism. A rumor-shrouded rock star who thinks he’s incognito at Bandicoot Cove resort. With a little help from her BFF she’ll be on her way to serious work in no time. Aiden’s perfect for the job—pulse-pounding gorgeous, and probably gay. After all, she’s never seen him date anyone.
Aiden Rogers admits it’s pretty damned patheti
c that he can rush into burning buildings, but not have the guts to tell McKenzie he’s in love with her. No way can he tell his best friend he’d like to do some seriously sinful things to her, especially since she’s never shown one iota of sexual interest.
Nick Blackthorne looks forward to some “unfamous” down-time in his home country. He’s surprised to find his creative muse stirred—more like brought to rigid attention—by a couple so sexy that all he can think about is the three of them. Together.
Three bodies move together as one, and the music becomes a smoldering beat that rivals the island’s heat. When the truth inevitably comes out, the heat might be enough to save three souls…or end up just another sinner’s lament.
Warning: One plus one plus one equals OMG sex, are-you-freaking-kidding-me orgasms and some serious mind-blowing climaxes.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Tropical Sin:
“Aidan…” she whispered, wishing she could see inside his head. Was this just sex for him? Or something else? Something…
“You truly have no idea how long I’ve ached for this, Mack.”
His proclamation, spoken with an almost dazed disbelief, sent a shiver through her. Not just through her sex, but through her. All of her.
“What?” She needed to know. “What have you ached for?”
“You.”
The answer was simple. Honest.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Because I almost…because the thought of you rejecting me…” He left the sentences unfinished, but what he didn’t say made her belly flip.
Oh, God. This wasn’t just two friends fooling around now. This was…huge.
“If you want me to stop…” he continued, dragging his hands up her waist only to halt them at the curve of her ribcage just below her breasts. His face was tight with tension, his jaw clenched. “I will. But you need to tell me now.”
Stop? Was he kidding?
Her reaction was instant and raw and it told her what her stupid brain couldn’t. The second he’d even uttered the word “stop” she knew she didn’t want him to.
She buried her fingers in his choppy mess of hair to stare into his eyes. “If you stop, I will be forced to slap you senseless.”
A soft chuckle vibrated through him, the dimples in his cheeks flashing into existence. “I thought of doing something else to you until you were senseless only a little while ago.”
She cocked an eyebrow at him, rolling her hips again in an attempt to stroke her sex over the confined pole of his cock. Damn, she wanted to feel that inside her. Wanted it so much she actually ached. “And what was that, Rogers?”
His eyes twinkled green fire. “This.”
He spun her away from the door and, three strides later, threw her on to the suite’s main bed, a massive king-sized number covered in silk and cushions. She squealed in shocked delight, the sound captured by his mouth as he dropped on top of her.
His hands roamed her torso, up to her throat, back down to her hips. He squeezed her arse cheeks before raking one hand down the back of her thigh and tugging her leg up. She willingly obeyed his unspoken direction, wrapping her leg around his hip to grind her pussy up and down his still-constrained cock.
“I want to make love to you, Mack.” His breath was ragged, his eyes ablaze. “Right now.” He slipped one hand under the hemline of her shirt, his fingers brushing her bare flesh beneath.
She sucked in a swift gasp, the contact somehow more electric, more arousing than any she’d ever had before.
Of course it is, McKenzie. This isn’t just anyone. This is Aidan. The guy’s had your heart in his pocket since you were kids. Even if you didn’t know it.
She whimpered, bringing her hand to his as she arched her back. She wanted him to touch her breasts. Not just touch them, but cup them, squeeze them. She wanted to feel the callused strength of his hands mold her soft flesh, hands skilled in extinguishing heat now on the verge of setting her on fire. She wanted to feel him possess her.
“Then what the hell are you waiting any longer for?” she asked, directing his hand up to her breast. Over it.
“Oh, God, McKenzie.” He moaned, his body stiffening as his fingers found her pleasure-swollen flesh.
He dragged his thumb over her rock-hard nipple, teasing it through the thin lace of her bra. It puckered harder to his touch, as if it too said, “Yes, why have you taken so long to do this?”
Her breaths grew shallow, more rapid with every stroke of his thumb pad. But it wasn’t enough. It was torture.
“Please…”
Like he always knew when she wanted popcorn at the movies, like he always knew when she needed chocolate, like he always always knew when she needed to hear his voice and called her from the fire station, now it seemed he knew exactly what she wanted him to do to her.
God, it was wonderful. More than wonderful. It was amazing. Sublime. It was…
Right. So goddamn right.
His erection pressing to the sodden junction of her thighs, Aidan hooked the edge of her bra with his fingers, and with one swift move of his arm, pulled the lace from her breast and raised her shirt up her torso.
He looked at what he’d revealed for a short—and at the same time, agonizingly long—second before his gaze found her face. “Are you sure?” he whispered, the words almost strangled.
Was she? This wasn’t just a quick fuck. Not even a one-night stand—well, a one-morning stand. There was no coming back from this. Sex with Aidan. Everything changed after that. Whether it was good or horrendously bad, it changed everything.
Horrendously bad? Are you serious? You’ve never felt so freaking aroused, so consumed with…with…hell, so consumed with real pleasure and all he’s done is kiss you.
Was she sure?
She nodded, swallowing at the thick anticipation rising in her throat. “I’ve never been surer.”
The muscles in his body tensed, his nostrils flared again, and then he lowered his head and took her nipple in his mouth.
Exquisite pleasure shot through her, and she cried out, her pussy not just throbbing but contracting with such eager want she thrust her hips harder to his body. She’d had her breasts sucked before, but what Aidan was doing…
His tongue rolled over her nipple, short stabbing strokes followed by shorter, sharper sucks that sent shards of squirming pressure straight through her. She moaned, fisting her hands in his hair and shoving her sex closer to his cock. “Oh, Aidan…” She closed her eyes, close to sensory overload. “That feels…”
“I’m in hell here, Mack,” he growled, his lips and breath hot on her breast. “I want to make this last forever—for as long as I’ve wanted to do it—but I’m so close to coming…”
The torment she heard in his voice, the raw truth, flayed McKenzie’s tenuous control. God, why had she never known he felt this way? Why hadn’t she realized she felt the same? Her pussy squeezed a cock that wasn’t there. She opened her eyes and gazed up at him, the pain etching his face, the desire, making her sex flood.
She’d always been one for foreplay. Long sessions of foreplay followed by longer sessions of fucking, but Aidan—as always—seemed to know exactly what she needed. She needed him inside her. Now.
“Sixteen years of foreplay and I didn’t even know it,” she murmured.
Aidan’s jaw bunched, his cock nudging her sex with a jerking spasm. “I fucking did.”
She laughed, a shallow burst of awestruck breath, and he seized on the moment to rise up between her legs, grab the waistline of her shorts and yank them off her body, taking her sodden undies with them.
“I’m going to fuck you with my tongue later,” he rasped, tossing her clothing aside, his voice not altogether steady. “I promise, but right now…”
He tore open his fly, his cock springing free of its imprisonment immediately. McKenzie’s breath left her in a whimpering moan. God, he was huge.
Precome glistened on the tip of his shaft, a perfect bead of pleasure. H
er mouth filled with moisture at the thought of licking it off with her tongue.
Later. Later. But now…now…