The Naughty List

by Jodi Redford

  She finished chewing and swallowed. “Aren’t you hungry?”

  His focus never veered from her mouth. “Yes. For you.”

  Oh boy. “Max, I told you. We can’t—”

  “I want to peel your clothes off and lay you out for my own personal all-you-can-eat buffet.”

  She gulped and attempted to combat her raging arousal with sarcasm. “That’s a little scary coming from a shark.”

  “I can be very good with my teeth when given the proper inspiration.”

  “Would you please eat your sandwich and stop staring at me like I’m dessert?” Grumbling, she squeezed her legs together and took a sip from her lemonade. She relaxed a fraction when she detected the crinkling of waxed paper as Max unwrapped his Philly cheese steak.

  They ate in companionable silence for several minutes, until her belly was full and she couldn’t imagine indulging in another bite. But despite having the edge taken off her hunger in one respect, the lusty cravings that kept her on the brink of jumping out of her skin only worsened the longer she was around Max. She harbored no doubts that if she didn’t get some much-needed space between them soon, she would gladly be flat on her back and offering herself to Max for his amorous snacking pleasures.

  Crushing the remnants of her meal into a compact ball, she rushed to the nearby trash receptacle and pitched everything inside. Max followed suit and slid his arm around her waist again, snuggling her close until she had no choice but to walk along weakly, drunk and woozy on his delicious pheromones.

  He escorted her into the Taurus, even going so far as to lean across her and buckle her seat belt. She gave him a peeved scowl, which he instantly sent packing when he angled his head and kissed her. It was barely a brushing of lips, but it still short-circuited the few functioning brain cells she had left. He straightened, his smile more than relaying the fact that he knew precisely how much he was affecting her—and that he was likely to use the knowledge to his full advantage.

  Humming a vaguely familiar tune, Max strode to the passenger side and climbed in. She lasered him with a hot glare. “I am not going to fall into your bed.”

  “Okay.”

  Okay? That was all he had to say? And why did he have to sound so damn calm and reasonable, as if he was only placating her? “I mean it, Max. Last night was—”

  “Mind-blowing.”

  She gnawed the inside of her cheek to keep from growling. “I was going to say a one-time deal.”

  “I like my description better.”

  “You’re not listening to me.”

  “Sorry, sweetheart. You were saying?” The bastard didn’t sound the least bit contrite.

  Despite knowing she would most likely regret looking at him, she did anyway. Oh yeah. Definitely a big mistake. Why did he have to be so yummy? “Are you always this aggravating and single-minded?”

  His smoky look provoked decadent shivers across her skin. “I’m not afraid to go after what I want, Willa. If that makes me single-minded, so be it. But you better believe I’m going to do whatever it takes to convince you to let me rock your Kasbah into the next week. Hell, the next lifetime.”

  Her breath abandoned her like air from a popped balloon. “It’s very sneaky bringing up Kasbahs at a time like this.”

  “I told you. Whatever it takes.”

  Goddess, give me strength.

  She slammed the gears into reverse and backed out of the parking space. The ride was every bit as excruciating as she’d suspected it would be, made all the worse when the devious radio station decided to start playing Marvin Gaye’s “Let’s Get It On”. She recognized it as the song Max had been humming earlier.

  I am so screwed. She grimaced. Ugh, bad word choice.

  Finally they arrived outside the Alliance headquarters, and she pulled into the small lot, stopping beside Max’s Jeep. She shifted into park but left the engine idling in case a quick getaway was required. Max released his belt and lowered the volume on the radio before turning toward her. She figured her face must have displayed her sizable panic as he leaned close, invading her personal space. His nearness forced her to tip her head sideways, making her glasses slip. He removed them and set them on the front dash. A purposeful gleam lit his eyes as his focus dipped to her mouth. She swallowed. “Max—”

  His hand cupped the nape of her neck, lightly stroking. “There’s no way you didn’t think I was going to kiss you.”

  “B-but you already did.”

  “That was nothing. This time it’s serious.” And with that preemptive warning, he claimed her mouth, his tongue easily coaxing past the barrier of her lips and meeting hers in a hot glide. There was no hesitation or fumbling in his kiss. Only the skilled determination of a male intent on making her melt into a quivering puddle of desperation. He sucked on her bottom lip, his teeth scraping gently.

  Panting, she sank her nails into the softness of Max’s T-shirt, fascinated by the marked contrast to the hard muscles hidden beneath. “I—I meant it when I said I’m not falling into your bed.”

  “Then take me home to yours.” His bristly jaw scuffed softly along her chin as he dipped his head and sucked the side of her neck. Sharp, pleasurable tingles burst beneath her skin, pebbling her nipples and throbbing within her clit. She squirmed and trembled, her body pulling tight. It was no mystery to her that the sensitive area Max had zeroed in on happened to be one of the most erogenous zones of her body, but how the hell did he know it?

  “I…I—” She almost passed out from the devastating pleasure of Max’s mouth when his suction intensified. Her aching clit felt like it was going to explode. “Oh goddess.”

  His thumb flicked over her distended nipple, using the friction of her blouse and bra to drive her higher. He lifted his head. “I want to make you come. Over and over. With my tongue, fingers, my cock. Until you lose count of the number of orgasms you’ve had. Say you want that too.”

  “Max…” Her plea turned into an embarrassing mewl as he rolled her nipple between his thumb and index finger. She grabbed onto him, trying to drag him closer and increase the teasingly light pressure on her breast, but the bastard refused to budge.

  “If you don’t tell me now, Willa, so help me I’ll stop. It’s all of you or nothing.”

  She stared into his eyes, looking for evidence that he was bluffing. Passion flushed his face, but his rugged features were set with unmistakable determination.

  Oh hell.

  All she wants for Christmas is him. All he wants is everything…for her.

  Priceless

  © 2011 Lena Matthews

  Urban Fairytales, Book 3

  As Christmas bears down on Eric Athers’s empty wallet, one question plagues him: What to get the love of his life when he has less than nothing?

  It doesn’t help that his wife, Nia, who works extra shifts to support him through his medical residency, practically glows with holiday spirit. Her determination to put the “Merry” in Merry Christmas only serves as a painful reminder of everything he’s unable to provide for her.

  Nia loves her husband to distraction, and she can’t for the life of her figure out how someone so smart can be so dumb when it comes to something as simple as a little holiday. Christmas is so much more than presents and shopping malls.

  All she has to do is show her own personal Scrooge that the best gifts come from the heart.

  Warning: This story is guaranteed to melt your snowman.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Priceless:

  Eric’s words were so unexpected it took a minute for his meaning to sink in. “Decorate me.” Nia licked her lips, and she took a few steps back. “That sounds a bit…kinky.”

  “Your point is…?”

  Her throat suddenly felt very dry. “Yeah…not sure I have one,” she admitted, still a little floored by Eric’s suggestion. Although he hadn’t been her first lover, he was definitely the most passionate and inventive. “What exactly do you mean though?”

  “What I said.”

/>   Nia glanced over at the box on the floor then back at her husband. He couldn’t really mean… “Are we talking star on head, ornaments on nipples, decorate?”

  “Well…” Eric tilted his head to the side, a contemplative look on his face. “Not star on head.”

  But nipples and stuff were apparently fair game. “Oh,” she said after a few seconds, because she really had no comeback for that.

  “Any objections?”

  She blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “The hooks might scratch a bit.”

  “Possibly, but I promise to kiss it better.” Without waiting for her to reply, Eric made his way over to the box which held the leftovers. He picked up the box and carried it to the table, setting it down with a resounding thump. Carefully, as was his way, he began to sort through the remaining decorations. “Hmmm…looks like we have lots to choose from.”

  Words escaped her. He was absolutely serious. One second he’d been dogging her tree, the next talking about using her as a tree. Nia shook her head in amazement. Every time she thought she had a handle on her husband he would do or say something completely out of character. Some days she wasn’t sure who she was married to—the focused, studious, determined doctor, or the sensual, dominating, erotic lover.

  Nia was torn between wanting to say hell no, and her desire to do every depraved thing he hinted at. No, that wasn’t true, she wasn’t torn at all. “What about rules? I think we should have them.”

  “Fair enough.” Eric strolled over to the oven. Warm air burst from the door as he opened the appliance, taking a bit of the sting out of the room. They’d learned quickly to use that part of the stove as a heating source when they were in the kitchen. “First rule, I make all the rules.”

  Nia crossed her arms over her breasts, not because she was upset, but in hopes of hiding her nipples, which instantly hardened at his words. “Sounds…” she cleared her throat before continuing, “…like a game we’ve played before.”

  Eric switched on the burners on the stove, then turned, facing her once more. “We’ve never played this.”

  “Maybe not, but the rules are always the same.”

  With a wicked little smile on his lips, he walked over to her, stopping only when he was standing directly in front of her. “Because they make you wet.” He was so close she had to drop her arms or risk having them pinned. “Don’t they?” His voice was low and rich and held not an ounce of compromise in it.

  “Maybe.” Standing this close to him, with the heat seeping into the room, she began to feel a little lightheaded. His delicious, heady aroma filled the air around her and toyed with her senses, much in the way the man standing in front of her did with her libido. “You don’t play fair,” she said after a moment.

  “I play to win.”

  “What do you consider a win?”

  “The sweet sound you make when you come.”

  His words took her aback. Damn he was good. “You should have been a lawyer.”

  “Then do I have your consent to drive you out of your mind?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. First things first.” Eric slipped his hand under her sweater and cupped her butt. “Take everything off.”

  “But it’s still chilly in here.” Nia tried to focus on his words and not the lazy pattern his fingers were making on her behind.

  “I promise you this.” His voice was soft, his breath warm as he lowered his lips to kiss right below her left ear—one of the many spots on her body he’d found that could turn her to mush when toyed with just right. “You won’t be cold for long, and you’ll never look at Christmas decorations the same way again.”

  With his lips on her neck once more and his hands on her hips, cold was the very last thing Nia felt. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head to the side, giving him better access and surrendered to the moment, to the man and to the delicious tremors he sent through her body with the barest of his touches.

  “Sunshine.”

  Nia opened her eyes, drunkenly raised her head and peered at her husband. “Yes?”

  “Take off everything then sit here on the table.”

  There wasn’t even a need to reply. Nia obeyed while he watched with lust-filled eyes. Eric was quiet the entire time she undressed, silent but attentive. She felt his gaze heavy on her even when she bent over to slip off her shoes and step out of her pants and panties.

  When she was wearing nothing but her grandmother’s heirloom, silver-filigree, garnet-pendant necklace, she placed her hand on her hip and stood proudly in front of him. She was going for a sexy come-hither look, but the shiver she let out and the goose bumps that broke out all over her arms instantly ruined it. The only thing remotely sexy about her now was how her nipples were erect, but even that had more to do with the crisp air than their naughty game. “Waiting for you to warm me.”

  Eric picked her up and set her next to the box on the table. “You mean these dark berries didn’t come out to play just for me?” he asked as he ran his hands up and down her arms, giving a little warmth to her chilled limbs.

  “Traitorous bitches.”

  “I think I might have to teach them a lesson, but first.” Eric let her go and pulled a Santa hat out of the box. He dangled the red fabric with the white trim in the air and smiled in his devilish way.

  Chill forgotten, Nia was ready for the fun. “Oh, Santa, I’ve been a very naughty girl.”

  “I hope so, but it’s not for me.” To her surprise, Eric set the hat in her lap and reached up behind her with both hands to free her hair from her ponytail. He tossed the band over his shoulder as if it were of no importance then ran his fingers through her thick strands. When it was down on her shoulders, Eric picked up the hat from her lap and arranged it on her head. When it was situated just right, he took a step away to admire his work. “Perfect. You might make a Christmas lover out of me yet.”

  “I do what I can for the cause.”

  “Good. Do you trust me?”

  “Absolutely,” she answered without hesitation.

  Eric pulled roughly an arm’s length of wide silver ribbon off its spool, then took out a pair of scissors he’d found stored in the box. He turned the shears until the sharp part was pointing toward himself and handed them to Nia. “Cut right there.”

  It only took one snip to slice through the material, but when she was done, he took the scissors away and set them along with the remaining ribbon on the table next to her.

  “I’m going to blindfold you now.”

  “I—”

  “Do you trust me?” he asked again, just as patiently as he had the first time. They’d played trust games before, and Nia knew if she wanted to quit at any time, all she had to do was say so.

  “With my life.” Nia closed her eyes, but then promptly opened them to give Eric a warning glare. “But if I hear one click from a camera, you’re a dead man.”

  His lips twitched as if he were trying not to smile. “Duly noted.”

  Content, she closed her eyes again and held still as he used the ribbon to blindfold her. The thin material was in no way the correct size for something like this. If she wanted, Nia could very well blink her eyes a couple of times to move it about so she could see, but that would ruin the game. So instead she held still as he tied the ribbon behind her head, before covering the back of the satin material with the bottom of the Santa hat.

  “Now clasp your hands together behind your back.”

  “Looks as if someone is getting into the Christmas spirit after all,” she said as she did as he requested.

  “Oh yeah, I’m feeling all kinds of jolly.”

  Being unable to see, she tried her best to figure out what he was up to. She had a general idea that was confirmed when she heard the scissors cut through another piece of fabric. Then, as she’d expected, her hands were gathered behind her and tied together with what felt like ribbon.

  Nia wiggled her fingers and moved her wrists back and forth, testing the bonds, but they didn’t giv
e. “Satisfied, Kinky Klause?”

  “Close.” The sharp sound of something being pulled across the floor startled her. She jerked and almost lost her balance, but as usual, Eric came to her rescue and helped her right herself.

  “Careful.”

  “I’d be more careful if I knew what was going on.”

  “Yeah.” The scraping sound grew closer. “But where’s the fun in that?”

  “What are you…?” Before she could finish her sentence, Eric lifted her leg then set her foot on what felt like one of the kitchen chairs. Her hearing, extra sensitive now that her sight was restricted, detected the nimble snip of the scissors.

  Frowning, she tried to figure out what he was up to, but before she could ask, Eric placed her leg against the back of the cool chair and then tied her ankle to it. As soon as he was done, he lifted her free foot and placed it in a similar fashion, securing her to a second chair.

  “Eric,” she whispered.

  “Shh…” Eric took hold of her hips and pulled her dangerously close to the edge of the table. Her feeling of vulnerability increased tenfold as he pushed the two chairs out a bit, forcing her legs to spread lewdly.

  Silence was something she could not do. Nia knew he was her husband and he’d seen parts of her body she’d never even seen, but this just seemed vulgar, for her to be spread open, exposed before him. “Eric…this is just…”

  “Just the beginning.”

  They’re craving something sweet. She likes it spicy.

  Glutton for Pleasure

  © 2009 Alisha Rai

  Devi Malik knows how to heat things up. She does it every night as head chef in her family’s Indian restaurant. Her love life, though, is stuck in the subzero freezer. Now, with a chance to fulfill a secret fantasy with her long-time crush and his brother, it’s time to put her desire on the front two burners.

  For Marcus Callahan, a love-’em-and-leave-’em attitude isn’t only a necessary evil of their kink. It’s a protective device. Lately, though, his brother Jace has been making noises about craving something more.