by Rylon, Jayne
“You sure everything’s cool?” The big man chewed his lip.
“I love you.” Morgan rubbed as much of his back as she could reach in their embrace.
“That’s everything to me,” Joe whispered in her ear. “We can survive anything as long as we have each other, right?”
“Right.” She squeezed him tight.
“I’m sure.” Joe enveloped her hand in his, then headed toward his friend. “We will be okay.”
“If there’s anything I can do…” Dave lost his jovial mask.
“Not right now.” Joe shook his head.
Morgan’s eyes burned when Dave hugged Joe and her husband didn’t resist.
Then, as if by some Jedi mind trick, the two men snapped into their usual routine. “Probably have some pussy hangnail, is that it?”
“Yeah, just like that time you cried over the splinter.” Joe socked Dave in his biceps. His loose fist bounced off a wall of muscle.
“Dude. That was a four-inch sliver of wood, and it went through my fucking hand.”
Morgan had wondered how he’d earned the jagged scar. The crew had plenty of those.
“Flesh wound.” Joe snugged Morgan tight to his torso as they climbed the deck stairs.
She wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head near his heart. When they reentered the space, the whole crew looked up. Dave gave his head a barely discernible shake, so they all went about their business.
“Okay, ready?” Devon practically bounced next to a flat rectangle covered by a sheet.
Morgan took her place next to a similar package, the only one left that didn’t have one of her best friends standing nearby. She fisted her hands in the soft, worn material draping it and winked up at Joe.
“We realize we’re a day early, but since we all have plans tomorrow, we wanted to give you your gifts today. Together. Happy Valentine’s Day,” Kate said to Mike. The rest of them echoed the sentiment.
“One…two…”
They whipped the covers off the framed photos simultaneously.
Someone whistled, maybe James.
“Whoa.” Joe crouched in front of the artwork. He trailed his finger over the likeness of her, reverence in every brush of his fingertip.
Dave clutched his chest. “Please tell me you kept this outfit.”
“I’ll show you tomorrow.” Kayla smirked.
The guys rushed to their wives, demonstrating to them exactly how much they loved their gifts—so much more than the physical presents the women had schemed to concoct. Mike swung Kate into his arms and twirled her around the kitchen while his best friends paired, or trebled, off to indulge in some one-on-one, or -two, affection.
“You know, our evil plot was to use these to take you as our horny hostages and issue tons of naughty demands…” Kate shrugged. “But you’ve already given us everything we wished for and more.”
Mike pried his stare away from the likeness of his wife in her sexy lace catsuit long enough to glance over his shoulder at the rest of the crew and nod. He cleared his throat. “That’s what we said.”
About the Author
Jayne Rylon’s stories usually begin as a daydream in an endless business meeting. Her writing acts as a creative counterpoint to her straight-laced corporate existence. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband who both inspires her fantasies and supports her careers. When she can escape her office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky and, of course, read.
To learn more about Jayne Rylon, please visit www.jaynerylon.com. She enjoys hearing from readers. You can send an email to Jayne at [email protected].
Look for these titles by Jayne Rylon
Now Available:
Nice and Naughty
Men In Blue
Night is Darkest
Razor’s Edge
Mistress’s Master
Powertools
Kate’s Crew
Morgan’s Surprise
Kayla’s Gift
Devon’s Pair
Play Doctor
Dream Machine
Compass Brothers
(Written with Mari Carr)
Northern Exposure
Southern Comfort
Eastern Ambitions
Western Ties
Print Anthologies
Three’s Company
Coming Soon:
Play Doctor
Healing Touch
Powertools
Hammer It Home
Print Collections
Love’s Compass
Powertools
Love Under Construction
Will his boyfriend’s girlfriend become his girlfriend too?
Devon’s Pair
© 2012 Jayne Rylon
Powertools, Book 4
James has watched each of the crew fall in love, one by one, until only he and his life partner Neil remain “unattached”. So, when he sees the way his bisexual boyfriend is checking out their new apprentice, he’s sure he’s doomed to lose the man of his dreams.
His love is strong enough that he would let go to ensure Neil’s happiness. Instead, sparks fly between the three of them—along with the rest of the crew—and he realizes he might not have to surrender because his boyfriend’s girlfriend is becoming his girlfriend too.
Warning: The world’s first m/f/m/f/m/f/m/m/f…we think. You never know exactly what’s going to happen next when the crew gets back together, but it’s guaranteed to be steamy.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Devon’s Pair:
“Dev, could you grab another tube of caulk off the back of my truck? This one isn’t going to make it.” Dave had squished his mammoth frame into the standard tub to run a bead around the base of the tile work she’d installed with his guidance. Of course, she’d added a little of her own flair to the design. As she surveyed it now, she had to say it’d come out better than she’d imagined.
Rewarding her for a job he approved of, Dave had done the grunt work and saved her back some strain. Pleasing the crew could be tough. The guys had lofty standards. In the past three weeks, she’d learned tons and had started surpassing their expectations. When she did, they made sure she knew it.
Dooming Dave to unfolding and refolding that stunning body would be torture. For both him and her, watching.
“Devon?”
“Sorry.” She cleared her throat. “Yeah, I’ve got it. Be right back.”
She jogged down the hall. Plastic sheeting covered new hardwood planks that made her light footfalls crunch in the long, empty space. Mike and Joe perked up as she trotted past the master bedroom where they were installing recessed lighting, which would add some flair to the space.
“Hey, Dev. You two almost ready for lunch? I’m starving.” Mike looked pretty damn hungry when he glanced in her direction. Silly to wonder if that smoky look meant anything more than desire for the packed meal his adorable fiancée had shipped him off with this morning.
“Mmm. Yeah.” Joe rubbed his flat belly. Dear God, did they have to work without shirts so much? It was enough to drive any red-blooded woman insane. “Morgan’s testing out new cookies again. She sent a big box for us to share.”
“And how many did you eat for breakfast?” She loved teasing the crew.
“As many as I could shove in my mouth on the drive in.” He winked at her.
“Well, we all know your mouth is capable of some pretty amazing feats.” Mike poked Joe in the ribs with the handle of his needle-nose pliers. “Hand me that housing so we can wrap up. Tell Neil and James they’ve got about fifteen minutes ’til break.”
“Right-o, foreman.” She saluted then jumped when Dave’s yell reached her loud and clear.
“Dev! You coming or what? I’m going to be pulling a Taft soon.”
“Definitely or what,” Joe bellowed for her, somehow still managing to pout. “We’re not that lucky. Give her a second. Mike distracted her. Besides, if you get stuck I know where to find some lube.”
“Don’t you usually grease up to try and get in, not out?” Mike’s wicked grin sent shivers along her spine.
She pretended to dismiss his dirty implications with an eye roll and a little finger wave then continued her jog down the stairs. Thank God they couldn’t tell how slick the tops of her thighs were. They were guys. Five of them, in all their sweaty and sexy glory. Holy testosterone overload. They couldn’t help themselves and somehow their equal opportunity jokes didn’t bother her. They aimed them at each other as often as they did at her. Being left out of the good-natured teasing probably would have made things awkward.
Luckily, she didn’t know for sure. The crew had made her feel at home from the moment James had saved her from that uncomfortable start with Neil on the curb outside this house. The renovations had come a long way in the past three weeks. Within a month they’d be wrapping the place up with a big ass ribbon for the future owners. Moving on from the project she’d come to associate with her mentors would suck. Between the crew and their women, she’d instantly inherited eight new friends. Spending the spring with them would be no hardship.
It was leaving at the end of the internship that worried her. Maybe if she buckled down and absorbed as much as she could from them, they’d have a permanent spot for her as they headed into summer and the end of their three-month arrangement.
Lost in her thoughts, she didn’t hear the rustle of denim on denim or the soft moans echoing in the vacant living room until it was too late. Devon burst onto the main level of the house, where Neil was making a late-morning snack out of James’s parted lips.
She lurched to a dead stop.
Move. Look away. Keep going.
Devon couldn’t force her legs to walk on past. Not when the fire between the two men burned hot enough to have tiny beads of sweat dotting her upper lip. She licked the salty sheen, wishing she could taste the partners’ passion instead.
Sometimes a man’s just gotta call for backup…
Five Ways ’Til Sunday
© 2011 Delilah Devlin
Delta Heat, Book 1
Marti Kowalski is all wrong for Officer Jackson Teague—he just won’t listen to reason. She didn’t finish high school, runs a bar. Has a tattoo and a blue streak in her hair. Yet he still wants to marry her? She can’t say she’s not tempted, but she’s got a bucket list to complete before she ties the knot.
Not just any bucket—more like a fifty-five-gallon drum of sexual wishes so explicit, there’s no way one man, even Jackson, can fulfill them all.
When Marti turns him down again, Jackson insists on knowing why. That’s when she shows him her list. He takes it, thinks about it—and calls on the only men he can trust: four buddies from his academy graduating class.
Between the five of them, he’s sure they can come up with a plan to check off every item on her list in one wild, wicked weekend. That is, if she has the nerve to follow through—and if he can bear to share her.
Warning: Contains five men on a mission to break down the resistance of one determined woman, using everything in their arsenal from BDSM accoutrements to roleplay of non-consensual situations.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Five Ways ’Til Sunday:
Marti Kowalski waved a hand blindly behind her at her desk, swiping the inventory sheets she’d slaved over for two days, and her telephone, to the floor. She didn’t care about the mess—or by the crunch—the loss of her phone. Right this moment, she had Jackson where she wanted him—too far gone with want to worry what damage he might cause.
His body was hard; his expression carved to a lustful edge, which promised the kind of sexy interlude she preferred—something spontaneous and surprising.
Even after all the months they’d been seeing each other, he managed to surprise her. Like now. He’d pulled her from the door of the ladies’ restroom and goose-stepped her with her arm bent behind her back to the manager’s office, growling menacingly into her ear about the wicked things he’d do to her.
Ma’am, keep quiet and I won’t hurt you.
She’d shivered at the menace in his voice, but he’d rubbed her hip gently to remind her this was just a game.
She had to hand it to him. He knew what made her hot.
Jackson bent her over her desk and shoved up her blouse. His head ducked to pluck a nipple with his lips, and then he bit it.
“I wasn’t expecting you,” she gasped, her fingers digging into the rigid Kevlar armor he wore beneath his dark shirt. “You’re on duty. Thought you didn’t cross that line when you’re wearing the uniform.”
His head reared back. His dark eyes flashed. “Shut up, ma’am. You draw any attention, and I might have to get rough.”
So he was still playing the role. She widened her eyes. “Please, sir, I’ll do anything.” She tried to infuse a little angst into her voice, but inside she was laughing uproariously.
A glint of humor in his gaze might have just been the reflection of the overhead light because it quickly extinguished. He bared his teeth. A hand snuck between her thighs. A finger tucked beneath one side of the crotch of her panties and tugged. Elastic stretched and gave. His palm crammed against her bare pussy.
There was no hiding how turned on she was. Not when cream smeared his hand.
“Fuck, you’re hot.” He drew back, gripped her by the waist and gave her a little shake—just to remind her who was in charge here.
Her head bobbed backward. Her heart skittered at the strength in those large, hard hands. He could so easily hurt her, but was careful to give her just the right kind of pain.
Nostrils flaring, he did a good impression of a criminal intent on doing her bodily harm. She guessed he saw enough of them in his line of work to mimic the look.
He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Sure this is the way you wanna play it?”
“Baby, don’t stop now,” Marti moaned.
His grunt accompanied the tightening of his hands on the corners of her hips. He gave no warning and whirled her around, then pushed gently on the back of her neck until she folded over her desk.
Her short leather skirt lifted. Hands gripped her cheeks and squeezed. His mouth pressed against her skin.
She huffed. “What kind of a rapist are you?”
“One with an ass fetish.”
She giggled and reached back to push him away, wriggling on the desk like she wanted to escape. “Stop,” she whispered huskily. “Stop or you’ll be sorry. My boyfriend’s a Memphis PD cop.”
Another grunt was his only response. He straightened, his hard body rubbing against the back of her thighs and ass. An arm clamped over her lower back, holding her down. A zipper scraped. His cock nudged against her folds, thick, insistent—lord, Jackson was completely into this naughty game. He found her entrance and drove deep inside in a single, merciless thrust.
Her body arched off the desk. “Oh shit!”
“Did I hurt you?” he muttered, deeply embedded, but unmoving.
Didn’t he know how to play this game? “You’re gonna pay, you bastard,” she said with an edge of a sob in her voice, but she wiggled her butt to let him know it was okay to proceed.
He withdrew slowly then stroked deep again. This time his hands slammed the wood on either side of her shoulders. “Stick it up higher, slut,” he growled. “My balls are bangin’ the desk.”
Slut? He’d never called her that before. She held back a chuckle, hoping the playacting wouldn’t end too soon. Jackson could only keep his focus up to a certain point. Not that she’d truly mind it when he dropped the act. Knowing she was the reason he couldn’t stay in control gave her deep satisfaction. She rose on tip-toe and tilted up her ass.
His cock crowded through juicy, engorged walls, filling her up like no man ever had before. Maybe he really was that big, or maybe she’d never been so excited. Jackson was the best lover she’d ever had—the most adventurous with the most stamina. That his body was ripped like a bodybuilder’s only added to his dangerous appeal.
<
br /> She gave a short, throaty groan. “Ohmygod, that feels incredible.”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Go away,” she shouted. To Jackson, she whispered, “Hate to say it, but we might have to rush this a bit.”
Nailed to the Wall
Jayne Rylon
The crew is back and they’re dirtier than ever.
Five sexy men with a penchant for love and lust in any variation have formed a crew. They work hard and play harder—together. Though their partnership began in construction, renovating houses and selling them for a mint, they’ve formed a bond around their shared goal to provide women, and each other, with the ultimate sexual experience.
Over the past year, as each member discovered his soul mate—or two—they expanded the reach of their circle, lighting up their nights along with their souls. Monogamous relationships and the desire to start families threaten to put their libertine revelry on the back burner. Will the passion that bonded them fade away? How will the new crew wives cope with the complex relationship the men will always cherish and crave?
Determined to prove they stand by their men, the women decide it’s time to flex some muscle and give the crew a dose of girl power. They collude to take the guys as their horny hostages, using some big guns: boudoir photos, a pillow fight and a calculated foray into partner swapping. But will they have the guts to go through with their plans?
Warning: By Book Five in this series, fans will attest that anything goes in the crew. Be prepared for ménage in every flavor—m/f, f/f, mfm, fmf, and more—along with a slew of that's what he said jokes. No throwing tomatoes at the author, please!