by Julia Kent
Mama.
No word anyone ever uttered could be as precious.
“Shit!”
Especially not that one. The sound of Dylan cursing from the living room, hands balled up over his crotch, bouncing from one bare foot to the other in a dance of pain, made her bite her lips and laugh. Not out of mean spiritedness, but out of the comical nature of what was going on. Now that Jillian was crawling and grabbing small objects, she’d become quite accomplished at tucking tiny items into seemingly-impossible spaces.
Like Dylan’s car keys into the heating vent.
“Is that some sort of ritual dance, like calling for rain? The key dance?” Mike strode into the living room and began to imitate Dylan, bent over his crotch, head tipped back in a mock-painful howl, as Dylan sucked a sore thumb and glared.
Jillian’s giggles made Mike dance harder.
That made Dylan glare more.
“Your daughter put my keys down the grate!”
“Why is she always my daughter when she shits up her back or bites you or puts your keys in things? Quit leaving your crap all over the house. We have a key rack.” Mike’s answer came in an even-toned voice, a deep chuckle behind the words.
“Because my daughter would never do such things.”
Their daughter let out a juicy fart. Both men scattered, suddenly busy in other rooms.
“Why is she always my daughter when she does that?” Laura called out, sighing as Jillian gave her a drooly grin, sitting up on her well-padded bottom like a stinky Buddha.
Mike reversed course before Laura’s eyes, his pivot far more graceful than any man six feet and a half had a right to be. He scooped up the baby and made her fly in the air like an airplane. Jillian rewarded him with laughter that could have doubled as fairy dust.
“I’ll change her if you take out the garbage,” he called back.
“Deal!” she replied. “I got the better end of the deal,” she added under her breath. They’d hired a lovely housekeeper, but they all wanted to keep it real, too. No live-in help. Besides, they didn’t want the added scrutiny. Trying to explain the situation would be awkward at best, fodder for tabloids at worst. Creating a threesome dating service had been iffy enough, giving the three more potential exposure than any of them wanted.
Dragging the overloaded, diaper-laden bag of stink out to the huge cans in the garage felt like a mini-vacation compared to changing a teething baby’s poopy diaper. Keeping it real, alright.
A quick wash of her hands and a check in the mirror showed a more refreshed version of herself than she’d seen in months. Good. About time the old Laura came back.
Mike and Dylan, with a little help from Josie and Alex, had seen to that. A month ago they’d taken her off for a night of sex. What they’d actually gotten out of that crazy, staged, over-the-top night had been, well...
An awakening.
And a lot of really awesome, inspiring, devilishly delicious kinky sex.
As if their menage a trois weren’t unconventional enough? Guess what. It turned out there were levels of kink Laura didn’t know existed. Maybe others did and she was just naïve, but the realms they’d entered recently had—
Damn. There it was. Her libido, tapping its foot, demanding to be acknowledged. Its return had shocked her—a night with a sex swing, a week with a Sybian, another week with a Liberator and Determinator, and then a week of all of them should have tempered her desire, right?
Nope. Not one bit. In fact, the guys had actually offered up a schedule where they took turns. One day with Dylan, one day with Mike, one day together.
“What do you mean, ‘day’?”
“Now that you want sex two, sometimes three times a day, we figure this is the best way to, um...” His voice faded out.
“Pace ourselves,” Dylan finished for him.
“You want to ration my access to sex?” she’d asked, incredulous.
“We’re tired,” they’d said in unison.
Dylan tried to be helpful. “And you can always use your toys if you—”
She cut him a death glare. “Are you fucking kidding me? You two went to my best friend and her boyfriend and did the poor me act to find out how to get more sex in our lives, and now you’re acting like I’m the freak?”
“No one’s calling anyone a freak,” Mike soothed.
“Actually, that thing you did with the pearls last night was pretty freakish,” Dylan countered, one eyebrow cocked at Mike.
“No one is calling anyone a freak,” Mike repeated archly.
“Boo hoo. Too bad, so sad,” Laura said, mocking them.
“You sound like Josie!” Dylan had protested.
“On this topic, I’ll take that as a compliment,” she’d challenged.
The two men had whispered something to each other, infuriating her.
“This is so unfair!” she’d declared. “It’s two against one.”
Both had shrugged at the same time, as if they’d planned it. She’s stormed out of the room. Sex resumed that night.
But the guys prevailed. They had a schedule now.
Other women didn’t have to deal with this. She’d been a one-man woman for her entire life until a year and a half ago. The sense of wonder and unreality in her relationship with Mike and Dylan could be overpowering at times, counterbalanced only by the exceptional feeling of being loved more than enough.
If she complained to Josie, she’d hear her own words echoed back.
“Too bad. So sad.”
Completely absorbed in her thoughts, she was caught unaware as warm, rough hands wrapped around her waist and yanked her into the playroom as she wandered absent-mindedly down the hall to check in on Mike and Jillian. Dylan’s scent filled her as he nuzzled her neck, then pulled her to the ground.
Squeak! A little rubber giraffe protested as they fell on it. “A different kind of threesome,” Dylan said in a low voice that never failed to make heat pool in her belly. And lower. Of course, it didn’t take much these days to arouse her. She was like an eighteen year old boy assigned to check bathing suit seams at a beauty pageant.
Perpetually excited and very, very motivated to make sure every detail was perfect.
“You want me to put that giraffe where?”
Booming laughter filled her ear, then hot hands slid up under her shirt, his palms venturing forth and pulling back, clenching her curves with a primal ownership. Faster than she realized, his mouth was on her nipple, biting lightly, sending white-hot signals straight to her clit, her body so ready for touch she seemed custom-designed for nothing but sex. Hot monkey sex, the kind you do seven times in twelve hours and then go eat ice cream in bed while watching old ’80s movies on cable.
That sounded even better than the sex cabin right now.
Hot monkey sex wasn’t on the table, but Dylan’s mouth was on her clit now, his hands unrolling her yoga pants and undies with ease, the soft carpet a lovely cushion for her bare ass as his intense face dove between her legs, tongue on a mission as Laura arched her hips and groaned.
As she rolled one hip, eager for his tongue on that spot, she yelped in pain.
Hot giraffe sex after all.
The damn toy cut into her thigh, the pressure making her leg muscle spasm. Dylan slid it out from under her and flung it across the room, where it struck a musical toy, the sound of bells and whooping alerts alternating with green, red, blue and yellow flashing lights.
Giggling, she pushed him back in place, warmth flooding everything as his little groans of pride from giving her pleasure made her want to climax even more. Nothing turned her on as much as the sounds they made during sex, so real, intimate and primal. Dirty talk was great, but the sighs, the moans, the licks and smacking sounds of really juicy sex was a layer of her own enjoyment she hadn’t known existed until recently. Being even more real with Mike and Dylan meant being a sexual being who was open, willing, and realistic about what sex really was.
And right now, sex really was about grabbing fi
stfuls of his hair as his tongue danced on her and elicited an afternoon delight she hadn’t seen coming just minutes ago.
But she could see herself coming, right—now.
The sound of a baby show on the television in the muted distance barely registered as Dylan’s hand traveled up over the curve of her belly, the rounded slope of one breast, his finger and thumb teasing her nipple in time to the rhythmic strokes of his pointed tongue, the rapid flicker bringing her to her own hum and she tipped over the edge into a writhing orgasm, riding his face, the man so caught up in the pointed focus on making her lose it that his intensity became her and drove her climax further and deeper.
“Dylan,” she gasped as her ab muscles clenched into a wall that took over her ass, her clit, her internal passages and every core muscle from pussy to navel, turning them into a steel vise of pure, unadulterated pleasure.
The push of her hips against his face and his determination to multiply satisfy her made her relax completely into his mouth, knowing that he was at the ready for more, her hand reaching down to stroke his thick cock through his pants.
The gasp of hot air against her folds, the baring of his teeth that rested against her as he reacted, made her smile as she pushed his head away, her orgasms peaked and leaving her panting, something animal inside her wanting to wrap her lips around the base of him and give back at least—if not more—what he’d just given her.
Squeak.
Halfway down to his cock, her head tipped toward Dylan’s now-bare, tantalizing navel, the sound made her halt. Dylan’s legs tensed and his sharp inhale this time had nothing to do with her. Following his gaze, which looked...guilty?...she turned toward the doorway, where she found Mike towering over then, two steps in the cheerful room, his face anything but.
Before either she or Dylan could open their mouths to explain, he held out a palm. Mike said exactly three words before he turned on his heel and left the room.
“It’s my day.”
Read the rest of Complete Harmony, a new Her Billionaires novella coming soon! Join my mailing list to receive an email when it’s published. Just visit my blog at:
http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com
Click on “Get a Text or Email for New Releases” and follow the instructions there.
Her First Billionaire
Grab Her First Billionaire FREE!
COULD SHE REALLY FIND THE RIGHT GUY ON THE INTERNET?
“Hot, luscious piece of ass who can suck a golf ball through forty feet of garden hose seeks rippling-ab’d firefighter who has a tongue that thrums like a hummingbird and enjoys painting my toenails and eating Ben & Jerry’s out of the carton while watching Mad Men.”
Laura Michaels stared at the online dating site’s registration screen and frowned. That’s what she really wanted to write. Here was the truth:
“Needy, insecure, overweight twenty-six year old Business Analyst with three cats, a corporate job with pension and no debt seeks Mr. Impossible for way more than friendship and lots of ice cream. I’m desperate for some physical affection and oral sex with a guy who doesn’t view it as some sort of favor he’s granting me, and then expects to be praised like he cleaned my toilet. One night stands are better than nothing as long as you brush your teeth. So call me, maybe!”
So when hot firefighter Dylan Stanwyck responds and asks her out, it’s just too good to be true. When she searches him online and learns he offers himself up for date nights in bachelor charity auctions, she wonders if she’s on the right planet.
Because what could a guy like that see in a fat girl like her?
OR WOULD HE NOT BE WHO HE SEEMED?
Trawling through the online dating profiles isn’t Dylan’s idea of fun, but it’s been more than eighteen months since their lover, Jill, died, and Dylan and his unconventional partner, ski instructor Mike Pine, need to find a new love. While their threesome situation is more complicated than a contract from Fifty Shades of Grey, at least one aspect is simple: Laura Michaels, the cute, soft blond from the online dating site, seems like a good fit for at least a first date. Soft curves, gorgeous hair, eyes that light him up from the computer alone, and a profile that makes her seem smart and interesting—he has no problems asking her out.
The problem is letting her in.
Dylan and his not-quite partner have more secrets than their unconventional romantic relationships, and this latest snafu is a mixed blessing, for both became billionaires overnight after the third in their threesome, Jill, died. With her estate finally settled and Dylan and Mike the recipient of an annual income that gives them enough to buy entire towns in the Midwest, the two were left reeling. Months after the lawyer explained their new-found fortune, Dylan still works his regular shifts at the station while Mike remains on the slopes as a ski instructor, but with a caveat; now he owns the entire resort.
But if they tell Laura everything, they risk losing a chance at a new bond.
Two problems may have one lush, ample solution as Laura meets her first billionaire on her date with Dylan, but with a stunning twist at the end...
Get Her First Billionaire FREE now at any major eBook retailer! Just do a search for Julia Kent.
Other Books by Julia Kent
Suggested Reading Order
Her First Billionaire—FREE
Her Second Billionaire
Her Two Billionaires
Her Two Billionaires and a Baby
Her Billionaires: Boxed Set
It’s Complicated
Random Acts of Crazy
Random Acts of Trust
“Share Me” in Spring Fling: A New Adult Anthology
Maliciously Obedient
Suspiciously Obedient
Deliciously Obedient (the trilogy is done!)
About the Author
Text JKentBooks to 77948 and get a text message on release dates!
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent turned to writing contemporary romance after deciding that life is too short not to have fun. She writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken.
She loves to hear from her readers by email at [email protected], on Twitter @jkentauthor, and on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/jkentauthor . Visit her blog at http://jkentauthor.blogspot.com