by Anne Rainey
She smacked him on the chest. “That’s the most sexist thing I’ve ever—”
He effectively cut her off with a press of his lips to the pulse in her neck.
“Oh, my God,” Grace moaned as she dug her fingers into his closely cropped dark hair, holding him firmly while he suckled her skin. She ached to feel those lips and that tongue lower. Much lower.
As if she’d spoken the thought aloud, Jackson inched downward, touching off several spasms as he went. Air brushed against her stomach, and she realized he’d somehow managed to unbutton her blouse and pull it down her shoulders, exposing her torso. When his tongue flicked over one hard nipple through the soft material of her bra, Grace nearly shot off the couch. She forgot her misgivings. Her body craved his touch. It’d been so long since she’d had sex. So damn long since she’d derived any real pleasure from a man’s body.
As if afraid she would break, Jackson lightly ran his tongue back and forth over her areola seconds before sucking her nipple into his warm mouth, satin and all. He hummed in satisfaction, and the raspy vibration of his voice tormented her. Somehow Grace found herself sprawled, Jackson’s hands on either side of her body, effectively pinning her to the cushions. He surrounded her. His lethal strength and intoxicating scent filled her vision and her senses.
While he switched to the other breast, Grace marveled at his patience. He sipped at her skin and toyed with erogenous zones she hadn’t been aware she possessed. When he appeared to be settling in for a damned meal, Grace urged him lower with a tug on his hair. He obliged and moved his loving torture south. Her body reacted with a flow of moisture to her center. Every inch of her was ready for him to take her. To fuck her. He’d be hard and savage; she knew it in her bones.
“Please, Jackson.”
A grunt was the only indication he’d even heard her plea. By tiny increments, he tugged her slacks down, and with each piece of flesh he exposed he sprinkled her with kisses. By the time the material was all the way off, Grace’s pussy throbbed.
He sat back on his haunches, his gaze devouring her. “You don’t wear panties?”
Grace didn’t like embarrassment, and at that moment, she seemed to be swimming in it. “Wow, pretty observant. No wonder you’re the VP.”
“All night you sat here chatting with Jordan and you weren’t wearing panties.” He passed a hand over his face and grumbled, “Damn, Grace. You sure know how to drive a man crazy.”
“Oh, gee, such a sweet talker you are.”
He reached down and cupped her mound. “You’re a real smart ass. One of these days I’m going to spank you for it too.”
“Spanking my ass. Sounds kinky.”
“Who said anything about your ass?” he growled. “I think I’d rather tie up these pretty tits and spank those instead.”
His words brought an image to her mind, a totally forbidden image. Her clit swelled. She tried to maintain her cool composure, but when his middle finger found its way through her curls and sank all the way to the knuckle inside her heat, she gave up any pretense of control.
“Mmm, just look at you. Your cunt is ripe for the plucking. I think I’m going to really enjoy making you scream with pleasure.”
When a second finger joined the first, her hips began to move, matching his pumping rhythm. After thrusting several times, Jackson brought both fingers all the way out. She wanted to beg him to come back, but her words died on her tongue as she watched him suck her juices off each digit.
“Tangy, but I’m going to need a little more to be sure.” He spread her wide and dipped his head between her thighs and swept his tongue over her swollen clit.
Spicing up her sex life sounds exciting…until the fantasy hits the fan.
The Bottom Line
© 2010 Shelley Munro
When Maggie Drummond buys an erotic romance novel by mistake, she gets more than an unexpected eyeful. She gets an introduction to a world that arouses her to a fever pitch: Spanking.
Her boyfriend isn’t interested in pushing his vanilla-flavored sexual boundaries. Then there’s Connor Grey, who haunts her fantasies like a magical genie. As a source of masculine advice for her and her female friends, he’s off limits. The only safe place to explore her fetish is her anonymous blog.
The recent changes in Maggie don’t escape Connor’s notice. Now that her boyfriend has dropped her, he can finally—carefully—make his move. Given his family history, laying a hand on any woman, even in fun, is a line he’s reluctant to cross. But for Maggie? Anything the lady wants.
As Maggie gives in to the temptation to let Connor add some sin to her life, she finds herself juggling lies, half-truths, friendship and sensual delights. Her job is in jeopardy—and she’s falling in love. Exploring her fantasy is one thing, but she’s beginning to question if indulging her own pleasure is worth the cost to everyone around her. Especially Connor…
Warning: contains explicit sex, spanking, and the good, the bad and the ugly about friendship.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Bottom Line:
A grin formed on Connor’s face when he read the blog entry. Most people would label it a smirk. Hell, he knew exactly where Maggie could find a man. He was that man. Damn, he couldn’t take this. He had to talk to her today, come to an understanding.
Half an hour later, he leaned on the intercom button, and a curious neighbor let him inside—probably to stop the racket at such an ungodly hour on a Sunday morning.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he raced up to the second floor and thumped on Maggie’s door. It took her a long time to answer. Finally, the door flew open. Maggie…her hair. It was the first time he’d ever seen it loose, and it rippled all the way down her back, stopping just above the curve of her ass.
“Hey.” Weak, Connor. He cleared the lump from his throat and sought something witty to say. His gaze slipped to her breasts. Rounded and sexy. Tempting. A distraction.
“Connor!” A soft blush crept over her cheeks and down her neck. “Having a good look?”
Connor wanted to explore the pink glow with his lips. “You shouldn’t answer the door dressed like that.”
“You’re early.” Maggie scowled, crossing her arms over her chest.
Watching her butt, he followed her into the kitchenette, mesmerized by the dark locks glinting under the artificial light. It took him another four steps before he realized all she wore was an oversize T-shirt. He glanced down. Great legs. Normally she hid them beneath ankle length skirts or baggy sweats.
“Should I make coffee?”
“Yes. I need a shower.” She padded down the passage and disappeared into a room at the end. Connor didn’t move until he heard the rattle of pipes and the distant spray of water. A visual formed in his mind. Dark hair dripping wet, nipples playing peek-a-boo while Maggie lazily soaped her body… Hell. The last thing he needed right now was to imagine her naked.
Coffee. Yeah. He forced himself to walk into the kitchen, arousal shooting through his veins and pooling in his groin. He needed to stick to the plan he’d formulated in the early hours of this morning, after he’d seen her blog entry. Talk to her today. Part A of the plan. Part B was keeping her permanently, but that was on a need-to-know basis.
Spanking—that might cause a few problems too, but first things first.
Coffee…
Connor was familiar with the layout of Maggie’s apartment since the Tight Five often hung out at her place. It didn’t take him long to make coffee. By the time the shower stopped, water dripped through the coffee filter and the fragrant scent of ground beans filled the kitchen.
He waited. Where was she? Five minutes passed, then five more. He imagined her drying her body, smoothing on her body lotion smelling of old-fashioned lavender, brushing the knots from her long hair and restraining it into the braid she favored.
He grasped the edge of the table until his knuckles whitened. Damn, he had to get his lust under control. He couldn’t touch her, except on a friendly basis. Not yet.
Patience, man. Cursing softly, he grabbed two white china mugs from the cupboard and poured coffee into them. He steeled himself when he heard footsteps. Seconds later he smelled lavender, and Maggie breezed into the kitchen.
“Why are you so early?” she asked. “Didn’t you see Gwen or whoever you’re going out with last night?”
“I’m not dating Gwen anymore. I’m solo for the moment.” As soon as he said the words, he regretted them. Damn, why did he sound like Romeo between Juliets? Despite public opinion, his bedroom didn’t have a revolving door.
“Since when? Won’t you walk lopsided now without a babe to balance you?” Maggie grinned and dropped into a stool beside him at the breakfast bar. She leaned over to switch on the stereo, her V-neck T-shirt gaping to display creamy white curves. His mind blanked, his fingers itching to touch her. Instead, he wrapped his hands around his mug and took a sip of coffee. Baby steps and patience.
“I thought you liked Gwen,” she added.
“I do like her, but I felt like I was dating my sister.”
Maggie’s brown eyes widened. “Ouch. You didn’t tell her that, did you?”
“No. Our parting was amicable.” Her compassion made his heart melt. He wanted to hug her for caring about a woman she’d met only once.
“Do you have your eye on someone else?” She sipped her coffee and glanced at him over the rim of her mug.
“Not really,” he said, seeing an opening. “Gwen was always complaining about rugby season during winter. With training and Saturday games, I don’t have many free nights. I’m not desperate for a replacement. Why do you ask?”
“It’s just that you always have a woman.” White teeth nibbled her bottom lip. A cute furrow formed and vanished between her eyes, as if she didn’t believe him.
“Maggie, contrary to public opinion I don’t always have a woman around.”
“Can I ask a personal question?”
“Sure.” He wouldn’t guarantee a reply, but her expression told him she knew that.
“What about sex? I mean, I like sex. The closeness and sleeping with a guy.” She paused, looked him straight in the eye. “Do you miss sex when you’re not going out with someone?”
Connor laughed. This conversation couldn’t have gone better if he’d scripted it. “Sure, I miss sex.” He hesitated, wondering how honest he should be with her. “This is just between us, right?”
“Of course. I would never share a private conversation with any of the others.”
Connor knew it was true. While their other friends did gossip amongst themselves, he’d never heard Maggie repeat anything confidential. Not once. “Yeah, I miss sex,” he said. “I love to explore a woman’s body, her scent and taste, her soft curves. Masturbation doesn’t bring the same pleasure. My hand never feels quite the same as tight, hot pussy.”
Color shaded her cheeks, although she nodded. “I know what you mean. It’s the empty feeling inside afterward that gets to me.” Her smile was rueful. “I’m probably every man’s nightmare because I like to cuddle. Sleeping alone and self-pleasuring isn’t the same.”
He was going to ask her. Right now. The timing couldn’t be better.
A feeling he recognized as terror speared his gut. A lot rode on her reaction to his next question. Connor placed his coffee mug on the counter. “Will you kiss me?”
“A kiss?” A surprised laugh escaped her. “Why?”
“I have an idea, but I need a kiss first.”
Smiling, Maggie leaned close and pressed her lips against his cheek. She moved back before he had a chance to react.
“That wasn’t quite what I had in mind.” Blood rushed through his veins, his heart thudding against his ribs in an erratic manner. Hell, sex between them would be good, if this innocent little kiss was any indication. “A real kiss.”
Connor closed the distance between them and grasped her head firmly in his hands. She jumped at his touch, stared at him, a spark of indefinable emotion darkening the golden brown of her eyes to chocolate. His gaze dropped to her mouth. God, he’d always loved her mouth, fanaticized about kissing it, seeing her lips wrapped around his cock. He snorted inwardly. Like that idea would score him points. Connor brushed his lips against hers. Soft. So soft. The rest of his body went on high alert, cock filling to press against his fly.
She sighed and he took advantage, slipping his tongue inside to taste her. Coffee and a faint minty flavor danced across his taste buds. At first he kept the kiss slow and gentle, then he lifted his head to study her. He liked the dreamy expression on her face, but he enjoyed kissing her more. He wanted her to respond to his kiss, needed to know she felt even a little like he did. Her eager lips and the hands threading through his hair, holding him in place as he wrapped his arms around her again, shot all his doubts to hell.
Slowly, he pulled back. They were both breathing fast. “Okay. That answered my question.”
Maggie smoothed her tongue over her bottom lip and watched him with a touch of confusion. Judging by her expression, she thought she’d taken a wrong turn from the bathroom and stepped into an alternative reality. “What question?”
“Would you be interested in a friends with benefits deal with me?” He held his breath and waited for her answer, knowing he’d never wanted something so much in all his life.
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