Revenge Sex: A West Coast Hotwifing Novel, Book 1

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Revenge Sex: A West Coast Hotwifing Novel, Book 1 Page 1

by Jasmine Haynes




  REVENGE SEX

  BOOK ONE IN THE WEST COAST SERIES

  A tale of hotwifing

  Jasmine Haynes

  Copyright 2011 Jasmine Haynes

  Cover design by Rae Monet Inc

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Summary

  A man, the hotwife he can’t control...and the woman who wants to fix what’s wrong with him.

  Tough, autocratic CFO Clay Blackwell strikes both fear and loyalty into the hearts of his employees. But he’s got one quirk no one at West Coast Manufacturing knows; he loves the idea of his live-in girlfriend Ruby being with another man...then coming home to him for the best sex of his life as she describes every naughty detail. He’s only got three stipulations: no sex with anyone from work, no sex with another man in their own home, and she always has to tell him when she has a date. The problem? What to do with a “hotwife” who has all the freedom any woman could want, but still can’t follow three simple rules.

  Jessica Murphy has the utmost respect and admiration for her CFO. She also has wild sex fantasies about Clay every night. Not that she’d ever tell anyone. Until she walks in on Clay’s girlfriend Ruby screwing Bradley the financial analyst right on Clay’s desk.

  All bets are off and a little revenge sex is the name of the game. Ruby thinks she’ll placate Clay by telling him to have sex with another woman to pay her back for all her rule-breaking. When Jessica learns about that, she makes up her mind to seduce her boss for keeps, not just one night of revenge.

  But can she become the more-than-one-man woman Clay Blackwell wants? Or will his desires tear them apart?

  Author Note: This book contains explicit sex

  Dedication

  To Cody Alston

  For telling me about hotwifing!

  Acknowledgements

  Thanks to my special network of friends who support me, brainstorm with me, and encourage me, Bella Andre, Shelley Bates, Jenny Andersen, Jackie Yau, Ellen Higuchi, Kathy Coatney, Pamela Fryer, Rosemary Gunn, and Laurel Jacobson. Thanks also to Clio for a great list of websites to investigate! And a special thanks to Rae Monet for such a sexy cover.

  Chapter One

  Hoisting her onto the desktop, Bradley spread her legs and yanked on her pretty purple thong.

  “Oh yeah, baby, that’s it, rip them off.” Ruby loved Bradley’s he-man act. Of course, the panties didn’t tear, but so what, he still managed to slide the thong down her legs and toss it into the corner.

  Ruby was wet and ready before Bradley even licked her. She’d been wet all day planning the naughty little encounter.

  “I’m going to make you scream,” he boasted, then he put his tongue to her.

  And truly, she did want to scream. “Oh, that’s so right, baby. Clay never does it like that. He never finds the right spot.” Bradley always needed a little ego boost to get him going, and what better way than to tell him how much better he was than Clay, her live-in boyfriend, lover—whatever you wanted to call him—and most importantly, Bradley’s boss.

  Leaning back on her elbows, she drew her knees up so she could watch every move he made. His hair was a lustrous dark brown against the perfect white flesh of her thighs. His shoulders were wide, and she loved the sight of him in his white dress shirt as he went to town on her. Ruby enjoyed watching a man make love to her with his mouth. She loved the brush of soft hair against her skin, and the bristle of Bradley’s perpetual quarter-inch growth of beard. She relished each and every sensation.

  She especially loved cuckolding Clay on his very big desk at ten o’clock on a weeknight after the cleaners had all gone home. His second-floor office overlooked the parking lot and road, yet with the conference table between the windows and Clay’s desk, they were virtually unnoticeable from the outside. So Ruby had left the lights on, all the better to see Bradley down between her legs.

  “Ooh,” she crooned. “Clay hardly ever licks me.” She moaned. “And I so love the way you do it.” Bradley was twenty-nine and a mere financial analyst, so she had to find ways to coax the best out of him—young men still had so much to learn. One of those ways was to tell him how much more virile he was than his boss, or rather, his boss twice removed. Bradley worked for the finance manager who in turn worked for Clay, but really, it was Clay Bradley had to impress. To be honest, Clay didn’t always appreciate Bradley’s work, so Ruby had made it her mission to help the young man feel he was good enough in other realms. Like doing her nine ways to Sunday. On a Wednesday night.

  Then she stopped thinking and let sensation take over. “Don’t stop, lick me, baby, just like that.” The heat built inside her, ready to burst, yet she pushed it off a little longer, like riding a magnificent wave just before it crashes.

  Bradley put two fingers inside her the way she’d taught him, and found her G-spot right away. Oh, that boy was improving. She shuddered, then cried out, “Yes, yes, yes.” And the climax pulsed through her body.

  Before it could end, she grabbed Bradley by the hair. “Fuck me now.”

  Bradley grabbed her hips, and rolled her over, her stomach bare against the cool wood of the desk. She loved it from behind, pushed against a hard surface, taken, almost forced. Especially when Clay took her this way. He was so big, so tall, three inches taller than Bradley’s six feet.

  Behind her, Bradley made fast work of the condom. “It’s going to be so good, you won’t want to even go home to him.”

  She didn’t tell him that would never happen; better not to spoil the moment. “When he does me, baby, I imagine it’s you.” Actually, when Bradley did her, she imagined telling Clay about it later, how hot he’d get, how it turned him into a wild man. Her wild man.

  Bradley plunged deep. Glorying in the feel of him, she stretched out her hands, accidentally knocking over the photo of Clay and his two teenage sons. Oops. But oh, this was good, so very good. He was young and strong, his technique not better than Clay’s, just different. It still needed refining, but he was a fast learner, at least in the sex department. She adored teaching a young man new tricks. She was forty years old—a hot little number, if she did say so herself—and proud of her toned figure and that her face had only a smattering of age lines. She was better than she’d ever been. Bradley couldn’t get enough of her.

  “Oh my God,” she cried out. “You fill me up. You’re so much bigger and thicker than Clay.”

  At her words, Bradley went crazy, assured of how much more virile he was than Clay. These young men performed so well when you told them what they wanted to hear. Stretching out her arms, she curled her fingers around the edge of the desk and gave herself up to the moment, to the feel of a hard, young cock inside her and the second sweet climb to the pinnacle.

  * * * * *

  Jessica Murphy jerked, then snapped to a sitting position on the break room sofa. In the dark, the microwave clock flipped to ten-oh-five in bright blue letters. Good Lord, all she’d wanted to do was rest her eyes, a five-minute catnap; she’d slept for over an hour. The board meeting was on Friday, and she needed to review the March quarterly financials tomorrow with Clay Blackwell, her CFO. But there was an issue in CIP, the construction-in-progress account.

  A noise had woken her. It couldn�
��t be the cleaning staff; they’d left before her so-called catnap. She rose from the couch, crossing to the door by the illumination of the microwave clock. The hallway was dark. She’d turned out all the lights, not wanting to waste electricity, especially when she was accounting manager for West Coast Manufacturing, which meant she knew exactly how much the PG&E bill was.

  There it was again. Bracing herself against the doorframe, she strained to hear. A moan. Then she was sure she could make out voices, though the words were indistinguishable. She shivered slightly. The automatic thermostat turned the heating down at nine, raising it again at six in the morning. Despite being the beginning of April, the San Francisco Bay Area was still chilly at night.

  Stepping out into the hallway, which bordered all the cubicles in the middle of the large accounting department, she made out lights on the far side. From the CFO’s office. But Clay had been long gone before she’d crashed on the break room sofa. Obviously, he’d come back.

  What if he’d discovered her sleeping? Jessica fluffed her hair, which was curly and tended to get mashed after she slept on it. It must look like a rat’s nest. And her lipstick was probably smudged. She ran a finger under each eye to get rid of any mascara, then smoothed beneath her lips, hoping that was good enough to fix the lipstick. She hated the idea of Clay Blackwell seeing her at anything less than her best. He lived with the CEO’s executive admin, Ruby Williams, and Jessica didn’t have designs on him—she wasn’t a home wrecker—but she admired Clay immensely and...well...a woman could have her fantasies in the middle of the night when no one else suspected.

  All right, nothing could be done about her appearance now. She marched down the small walkway between the cubicles, and the sounds from the other side of the thin dividers grew exponentially louder with every step she took. Jessica’s heart started to pound, and she thought about turning around and getting the hell out. Because really, what was Clay Blackwell doing in his office? And just who was he with?

  She might have run, too, if she hadn’t heard distinct words in a female voice—“Clay’s never fucked me like this”—punctuated by a man’s low growl of pleasure.

  Turning the corner by the end of a cubicle wall, Jessica could see straight into Clay’s office. Her breath stopped in her chest.

  Ruby Williams was facedown on the desk, skirt pushed up over her butt, dark hair flowing around her shoulders, eyes closed, her red lips parted on a moan of intense pleasure. Behind her, Bradley Palmer slammed into her, each thrust shoving her across the desk. Bradley was tall, his features strained, his stubbled jaw line rigid. The AP girls oohed and aahed over his resemblance to Brad Pitt. Jessica had never liked Brad Pitt. She didn’t particularly like Bradley Palmer either.

  And she hated Ruby for letting Bradley screw her right on Clay’s desk. She and Clay had lived together for three years, since shortly before Jessica had started at West Coast Manufacturing. Even if they weren’t married, Clay was Ruby’s significant other in every sense of the word. And Ruby worked at West Coast, too, for God’s sake. This was so totally wrong.

  Jessica should have run away right then, but her feet were rooted to the carpet right outside the pool of light spilling from the open door. She couldn’t move. She could only watch. And listen.

  “Isn’t it hot, baby? Tomorrow when you’re meeting with him”—Ruby giggled—“you can think about what you were doing to me right here.”

  “Fuck yes.” Bradley grunted. No, he wasn’t handsome at all. He was a gnat compared to Clay. How could Ruby do this?

  Yet Ruby shuddered and moaned. “You’re so much better than Clay is, baby.”

  Ruby had never been good enough for Clay. She was vain and selfish. How could she humiliate him by having sex in his office? A slap in his face. Even worse, it was Bradley, a whiny wimp, who always complained that Clay didn’t think his work was good enough. Well, it wasn’t.

  Other than sex, what the hell did Clay see in this horrible woman?

  Jessica would never cheat on a man she loved. She would cherish Clay. She’d never let another man bend her over his desk and take her like a dog.

  But she’d let Clay do it. She’d let Clay do anything. Everything. For a moment—a very long moment—she closed her eyes and felt Clay inside her. The way she’d imagined him in her fantasies.

  Until Ruby made another noise, a cross between a gasp and a wail. Her eyelids squeezed shut, she bit down hard on her lip as her face contorted in climax.

  Maybe Jessica had always been jealous of her, but even mussed up and facedown on Clay’s desk, she was still beautiful, still perfect. At forty, five years older than Jessica, Ruby was sexier than Jessica had ever felt.

  Then Ruby opened her eyes and pushed back on Bradley. “Don’t come in me yet. I want you to come in my mouth.”

  He grimaced. “Fuck, baby.”

  “I want your come in my mouth,” she insisted with a pretty pout on her lips.

  He laughed. “All right. Suck me, baby.” Pulling out, he tossed the condom in Clay’s trash can, then flopped back in the big leather chair that Clay filled far better than he did.

  The chair rolled until it hit the wall.

  Good Lord. That was the first impressive thing she’d ever seen about Bradley. He was big and thick, and Ruby went down on her knees, then took him in her mouth.

  Jessica felt something inside. A shifting, a need. It was suddenly hard to breathe, and more than anything, she wanted to touch herself. She was inexplicably wet, part of her horrified. But a bigger piece saw Clay in that chair—and she was the woman on her knees in front of him. She could almost taste him.

  Ruby moaned and groaned, her mouth sounding slick and slippery around him. Repelled yet fascinated, Jessica fisted her hands as she watched.

  Then Ruby lifted her head. “I want your come on my cheeks when I have to go home to him. I want to smell you on me. To remind me how good this is.”

  His hand around his cock, Bradley stroked himself as Ruby sucked on his crown. He threw his head back against the chair and his hips thrust up, forcing his cock deeper into her mouth. Then, as his body began to jerk, Ruby backed off, and his come shot against her cheek, then it pulsed, dripping down onto his hand. Ruby leaned close to lick it clean. When that was done, she rubbed Bradley’s come into her cheek, then sucked her fingers.

  Then Ruby turned to the open door and laughed. “I know you’re out there spying, Jessica.”

  Chapter Two

  Jessica’s skin went clammy.

  Ruby rose gracefully, not even trying to hide her neatly trimmed sex, then shimmied her short pencil skirt down over her thighs. Her cheek still glistened with come, yet her lipstick didn’t bear a single smudge.

  “Don’t worry about this, Bradley,” she cooed. “I’ll take care of it.” She smiled. “Just get rid of the condom.”

  Jessica didn’t wait to find out how Ruby planned to take care of it. She dashed around the cubicles to her office, flipped on the lights, and grabbed her purse from her desk drawer.

  When she straightened, Ruby blocked her doorway. “I suppose you’re dying to tell Clay all about this.”

  Her throat was dry. It hurt to swallow. Ruby intimidated her. In her high heels, she towered over Jessica—and Jessica was five foot five, for God’s sake. But it was more. Ruby was more of everything: more breast, more curves, more sex appeal. Jessica hadn’t frosted her blonde hair in months—too busy since year-end—and next to Ruby, she was dowdy. Even if she wore the sexy stuff Ruby did, she wouldn’t have looked the same in it. Ruby Williams could wear her grandmother’s flannel nightgown and make it look sexy.

  Jessica licked her lips, trying to stop the dry mouth. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.” She’d thought only about how much she despised Ruby, how sorry she felt for Clay, and how the hell she was going to get out of this building.

  “What are you doing here so late anyway?” Ruby tossed a glance at the binders and folders spread out on Jessica’s small conference table. “Trying to
impress Clay with what a hard worker you are?”

  “It’s quarter-end. The board meeting is on Friday. Everything has to be ready.”

  Ruby snorted. “You’re such a paragon.”

  Versus Ruby, who, as the CEO’s executive assistant, was privy to all the inner workings of the company, present at board meetings, invited to board dinners, and hostess of all Clay’s company parties, but she never worked late, never came in on Saturdays, never hunched over the monitor until her neck ached.

  Bitch. “I didn’t know fucking you was in Bradley’s job description.”

  Ruby wagged a red-tipped finger at her. “Tsk, tsk, Jessica. You sound jealous.”

  “Of Bradley?” Jessica grimaced. “Hardly.”

  Ruby smiled. “Of Clay and me.”

  This time Jessica couldn’t swallow past the lump in her throat.

  “I see all those goo-goo eyes you send his way when you think no one’s watching.”

  Nothing like the truth to steal the words right out of your mouth. She wanted another woman’s man; in her own way, Jessica was as guilty as Ruby.

  “Cat got your tongue?” Ruby taunted.

  She couldn’t say a thing. The cat definitely had her tongue.

  “Here’s the thing. Clay knows all about it.” Ruby’s eyes sparkled like topaz jewels. She was enjoying this. “And he loves it. After I’ve been out, he can’t wait to get his hands on me. Why do you think I wanted Bradley to come on me?”

  “No.” Jessica’s mind whirled. It wasn’t true. Ruby was pulling some snow job on her.

  Ruby merely nodded, answering her own question. “He loves smelling other men on me. It makes him hot.” Then she lowered her voice to a soft seductive pitch that made Jessica’s skin crawl. “Then we have the absolute best sex ever.”

 

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