The Boy Next Door

by Jessica Jarman

  She rose to her knees and patted the bed beside her. “Lie down.”

  He stretched out and she straddled one of his hard legs. The coarse hair tickled the soft, silky folds of her pussy. Slivers of pleasure embedded themselves within her, pushing deeper and deeper.

  Grasping his stiff cock, she ran her tongue around the smooth tip before taking it into her mouth. His gasp caressed her senses, pushed her to continue taking the length of him into her mouth. Pulling up slowly, she licked along the ridged underside of his penis and savored the feel of him, the taste and smell of him. Her pussy contracted deliciously each time she stroked Mac’s cock with her mouth. Rocking back and forth, her clit rubbed against his leg over and over, the coarse hair teasing her aroused flesh. He pressed his leg up against her, increasing the pressure, the intensity.

  “Stop, baby, stop. C’mere.” Mac pulled her up the length of his body until she was sprawled on top of him, then flipped her onto her back.

  He settled between her thighs and kissed the inside of one. Combing his fingers though the curls sheltering her sex, he dipped one in her pussy and brought it to his mouth. Her belly tightened with a clenching heat as he licked her juices off and slid the finger deep inside her again. Leaning forward, he flicked his tongue over her clit. Waves of pleasure rolled over her, threatened to pull her under. Muscles tightened as he slid another finger into her pussy. He used his thumb to stroke the sensitive, responsive skin of her perineum and over the puckered opening of her anus.

  She cried out. Her pussy convulsed around his fingers, her juices flooding over them. He straightened until he was kneeling. Wrapping an arm around her waist, he turned her onto her knees before him. Nudging her legs open with his, he positioned his cock at her opening. She wiggled and pushed back against him.

  He surged forward, his cock sliding home in one rough stroke. Leaning forward slightly, he reached around to cup her breasts. His fingers worked her nipples, pinching and gently tugging the tight crowns. Each tug, each nip of his fingers sent flames of ecstasy coursing through her to center in the tiny nub nestled within the folds of her pussy.

  His cock swelled and lengthened within her. She frantically pressed back to take him deeper. He ran his hands down her body to grasp her hips and pulled her harder onto his shaft, thrust after thrust. His cock jerked and he cried out. He reached around her and tweaked her clit between his thumb and index finger.

  “I love you, baby.”

  His voice was harsh as her pussy tightened and convulsed around him. She grasped the headboard, cheek flattened against it, eyes closed. Colors exploded behind her lids as every muscle in her body tensed for the onslaught of sensation. Waves of pleasure cascaded over her body like warm honey.

  He thrust into her a final time and held her tightly against him, an arm around her waist. After a minute, he pressed a kiss to the small of her back and released his hold.

  As soon as her rebelling muscles allowed, Darcy shifted and rested on her side. Mac lay behind her and pulled her close. He kissed her neck, her cheeks and face until she turned to kiss him fully.

  “I love you,” she whispered against his mouth. A thrill ignited in her at being able to say words.

  “I love you.”

  A comfortable silence settled over them. Sunlight streamed in, falling across and warming their legs. She shifted and stretched in the warmth.

  “Darc?”

  “Hmm.”

  She turned and watched as he pulled away and reached for his jeans. Instead of pulling them on like she expected, he rummaged through the pocket.

  “I think this belongs to you. It took me a long time to find the perfect one, and I want you to have it.”

  He held his hand out to her. The copper choker she had hurled at Richard dangled from his fingers, the clasp repaired.

  “You sent this? I thought it was him.” Her eyes widened as she thought of the gifts that had arrived during the last week. “And the roses and the sketch?”

  He nodded. She leaned over and pressed her face to his chest. Her voice was muffled as she bemoaned, “And I threw it in your face that you’d never bought me anything or showed me you cared. Oh, Mac, I’m sorry!”

  “That’s okay, baby. I should’ve been a bit more obvious about the whole thing. Now,” he paused to pull her from him and place the choker around her neck, “let me take a look. Ah, just how I imagined it. You wearing this and nothing else. Perfect.”

  He moved in for a kiss, his lips sliding along hers in a wet caress.

  “Oh, one more thing, Darc.” His words whispered across her mouth.

  “What’s that?”

  Her arms wound around his neck as she straddled him.

  “My lease is up for my apartment.”

  “Uh huh.” Where was this going?

  “I’m thinking I need a change.”

  She grinned in understanding. “I might know of someone who’s looking for a roommate. You interested?’

  “Hmm, well, I don’t know. It’ll all depend. Is this roommate female?”

  “Uh huh."

  “Is she cute? She’s gotta be cute.”

  With a snort, she pinched his side. “And what do you consider cute?”

  “Oh, I like long, reddish brown curls. Oh, she’d have to use this nice smelling strawberry shampoo. That’s a must. Green eyes and a tight, sexy body.”

  She sighed playfully. “Sorry. Don’t know anyone like that. Guess you’ll have to renew your lease.”

  She shrieked with laughter as he ran his fingers up and down her sides. “Okay, okay. I guess you can move in with me.”

  He leaned back and let his gaze travel over her. “Hair the right color and length? Check.” He buried his face in her hair and inhaled deeply before looking into her eyes again. “Hmm, strawberry shampoo? Check. Green eyes and tight, sexy body? Check, check. Okay, I’ll move in with you.”

  “It’s an awfully small place. You’d have to share a room. In fact, you’d have to share a bed,” she drawled out and tightened her embrace.

  “Oh, I think I can live with that.”

  “I certainly hope I can live with you,” she teased.

  “Oh yeah? Well, there are perks to the arrangement.”

  She snickered. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

  A deep sigh escaped him, but it was the glimmer in his eye that had Darcy trying to scramble off his lap.

  “I guess I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

  He stood and tossed her onto the mattress again. Laughter filled the room as he pounced on her and set to the task of showing exactly what living with him would entail.

  About the Author

  To learn more about Jessica Jarman, please visit www.jessicajarman.com. Send an email to Jessica at jessica@jessicajarman.com or join her Yahoo! group to join in the fun with other readers as well as Jessica, http://groups.yahoo.com/group/journeyintoromance.

  When Jared Romero gets shot the only person he can turn to is Macayla Sullivan, but will she risk her heart—and her life—to help him?

  Take Your Medicine

  © 2006 Arianna Hart

  After escaping from an abusive relationship, Macayla has no interest in tying herself to another man, even if he is drop dead gorgeous. Unfortunately, Jared doesn’t understand the meaning of the word no and breaks down her defenses as fast as she can put them up.

  When Macayla saves Jared’s life, little does she know that she’s putting her life—and her heart—in danger.

  Sequel to Surprise

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Take Your Medicine:

  Should she go down to clear the air with Jared? Maybe a little space would be best for both of them. She wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, but there was a time and place for every discussion. The fact that she was still feeling a little overheated from Jared’s kiss, and he was downstairs working out, possibly with his shirt off, didn’t bode well for an intelligent conversation. She had never seen a man as good looking as Jared, even Connor w
asn’t as ruggedly handsome, and he was no slouch.

  Thoughts like those weren’t going to help clear her mind any.

  Macayla went into the kitchen and started a meatloaf for supper. She wasn’t sure if her stomach was up to that yet so she put in an extra potato to bake just in case. She cleaned up the kitchen and puttered around the house, straightening little things, cleaning the bathroom, making the beds. When she had run out of things to do and Jared was still downstairs, she figured she had better stop him from hurting himself.

  Idiot man, he’s going to overdo it just like I said. Why is it men think they are so much smarter than women? Macayla muttered to herself as she headed for the stairs leading to the home gym. As she stomped her way down, she was blasted by the music Jared had blaring from the speakers. His face was turned away from her as his arms pumped the free weights. He had his shirt off, just as she had expected, and his torso was beaded in sweat.

  The muscles in his arms rippled with the effort he made to lift the weights over and over again. Macayla paused, speechless as she watched him work out. He was definitely eye candy. Forget eye candy, he was eye chocolate. The overhead lights emphasized his every asset—the glints in his midnight black hair were almost blue, his hairy chest was pumping up and down with exertion. His sweatpants sagged on his narrow frame and revealed the upper curve of his pelvis, a sight Macayla found irrationally erotic.

  Her mouth hung open as she stood staring at him, wondering how to take her eyes off him long enough to form a coherent thought in her head. She had completely forgotten the reason she had come downstairs in the first place.

  Jared dropped the weight and pressed his hand to his side. When he looked up and saw her, he lowered his hand guiltily. He stood and walked over to her, drying himself on the towel as he went. His chest moved up and down with his heavy breath from his workout. She said nothing as he came within inches of her. He stopped, waiting for her to make the next move.

  Macayla stared at Jared, watching him as he ran the towel over his body. She wanted to be that towel, wrapped around that gorgeous chest, feeling his heartbeat, touching his body. She licked her lips as though she could already taste the salt from his skin. The rational part of her brain yelled at her to say something, to break the spell, but her body wasn’t listening. It was too busy watching him.

  Slowly, almost against her will, she moved closer to him. She reached him, just a breath away from all that glorious skin, but he didn’t make a move to touch her. She almost whimpered.

  She wanted to be pressed against his chest, to feel the fire spread and burn. She waited breathless seconds for him to move, but when he did nothing more than grip the towel and stare at her; she knew it was up to her to decide what was going to happen.

  She watched a bead of sweat work its way from the hollow of his throat, down his chest, over his stomach, and stop at the waistband of his sweats. She could feel her control snap as she saw the evidence of his desire directly below the devious drop of sweat.

  Struggling to find courage, she stood on tiptoe and placed her mouth against his throat. She delicately licked her way from his throat to the oasis of his chest.

  What a dilemma. She had dreamed about these acres of muscles for days now and, like a kid in a candy store, didn’t know where to begin. She wanted to touch and taste everything at once, yet wanted to linger over it as well. She kissed a path between his nipples, and brought her hands up to run her fingers through the hair on his chest, grabbing his pectorals gently and rubbing his flat nipples between her fingers.

  Jared remained silent, his hands gripping the towel. He held on for dear life, afraid to make a move and break the spell. Macayla devoured his chest—and his control. Her hands explored his torso like a blind person reading Braille. Fire exploded in his gut as her mouth trailed kisses over every inch, and worked lower second by agonizing second. When she reached the waistband of his pants, Jared pulled her up to him.

  “Macayla, you have about five seconds to decide if this is what you want, because if it isn’t, you had better run for your life.”

  “You talk pretty tough, but I don’t believe a word of it.” Macayla ran her hands over his chest. It was like now that she had finally given in, she never wanted to stop touching him.

  The last thing Amanda Storm needs is a man in her life—but no matter where she goes, she can’t seem to get rid of them.

  Miss Independent

  © 2007 Elisa Adams

  After three marriages and a near-miss, Amanda decides to wash her hands of men once and for all and try living life on her own. She moves away from her family, buys a cottage and gets a job waiting tables at a busy local bar to put herself through college. But then she meets Joe, who appoints himself as her savior, and everything goes downhill from there.

  Joe Baker knows a woman in trouble when he sees one. Amanda might be good at faking it, but she’s in way over her head. As her neighbor, he’s willing to help her with whatever she needs done around the old cottage, but she won’t accept his help. All he can do is sit back and watch things fall apart around her, and try not to say I told you so when it happens. Somewhere along the way, his protective feelings turn into something more, but after three failed marriages, Amanda wants nothing to do with commitment. Joe isn’t a man to give up, and he’s determined to show her they’re meant to be together—no matter what it takes.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Miss Independent:

  Amanda checked her watch and shifted on the edge of the curb just outside the bar parking lot. It had only been fifteen minutes since she’d called the auto club, and yet it felt like three hours.

  Humidity still clung to the air despite the late hour—a little after midnight—and she swiped the back of her hand across her forehead. Of all the nights, and all the times, for her car to break down, it had to be now, when she was exhausted after a long night at work. Her feet hurt, her legs ached and she could barely keep her eyes open. The operator at the auto club told her a tow truck would be right out to help her, but even Amanda understood it would take a lot longer than a few minutes for someone to show up.

  “Is everything okay?”

  She glanced up to see Joe standing over her, hands in the pockets of his denim shorts. She sighed. A neighbor who wanted to “help”. Yet another thing she had no use for—but relief flooded her anyway. “It’s fine, thanks.”

  “Is there a specific reason why you’re sitting on the sidewalk?”

  “Other than the fact my car won’t start? Nope.”

  “Want me to take a look at it?”

  “Thanks, but I’m all set. The guy from the auto club will be here any minute now.”

  She expected Joe to walk away, but instead he propped his hip against the side of her car. “What’s wrong with it?”

  Other than it being well past its prime and ready to fall apart at the seams? She had no clue. “If I knew that, I wouldn’t be sitting here right now.”

  “Does the engine turn over?”

  “No. But it’s really not your concern. They’re going to tow it to the garage and the mechanic will take a look at it in the morning.” And how she’d get to work until she had her vehicle back, she had no idea. She had enough to deal with tonight. She could worry about transportation to work later, when she’d had some sleep.

  Joe crossed his arms over his chest. “How are you going to get home after that?”

  She hadn’t thought that far yet. Thank you, Joe, for giving me yet another thing to worry about. “I’ll call a cab.”

  “Good luck getting one at this time of night.”

  She frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “The only cab company in town has two cars, and the same number of employees. The cabs don’t usually run past eleven.”

  She groaned. Just lovely.

  “I’ll stick around until the tow truck gets here. Then I’ll give you a ride home.”

  She started to protest, but Joe held up his hand. “Don’t. Unless you’re p
lanning on walking home or staying in town, you don’t have many options. I don’t mind giving you a ride. Your place is on the way to mine.”

  She had to admit he was telling the truth. Staying in town for the night held little appeal, and walking wasn’t even an option. It would take her all night to get home. What would be the harm in taking a ride from her new neighbor? If he was friends with Barry and had Alex to vouch for him, he couldn’t be that bad.

  “You’re not a serial killer or anything, are you?”

  “Not hardly. You?”

  What was it about him that put her at ease, yet made her all edgy at the same time? She might have seen herself becoming friends with him—if she wasn’t so attracted to the man. She couldn’t be friends with a man she wanted. Especially a man who was currently unavailable. Those were the ones she always ended up marrying. And divorcing.

  “Where are you from?” Joe asked, his tone casual. He glanced up and down the street before returning his gaze to her.

  “Vermont.”

  “What made you decide to move out here?” This question was less casual and a lot more probing than she was ready to deal with.

  She shrugged, ready to give him the answer she gave anyone else in town who asked. The easy answer, and half of the truth. “I’m starting school at the college in the fall.”

  “Not many college students buy houses within a month after moving to town.”

  She was willing to wager not many college students were three-time divorcees, either, but she didn’t point that out to him. “I like it here. Always have. My family used to vacation on the lake when I was growing up. I figured it would be a good place to settle down.”