by Jayne Rylon
Oh. My. God.
From this angle, she caught the strong profiles of both James and Neil. Tall and lithe, Neil leaned on the end of the countertop for support, his jeans unbuttoned. Framed in worn denim, his cock jutted from the vee of his fly. James hovered a mere half inch away from the head. His lips parted, glistening with saliva, as though waiting for permission.
“Suck it.” The gruff command reverberated through the space, causing a trickle of wetness to run onto Kate’s thighs.
In the kitchen, Neil buried his fingers in James’s sun-bronzed hair, using the grip to tug the kneeling man closer still. With two fingers, he aimed his erect shaft straight for James’s open mouth. When he slid inside, balls-deep with a single stroke, the look of rapture on both men’s faces stole her breath.
From behind her, Mike’s hands travelled lower, dipping beneath the waistband of her pants. He shoved them over her hips until they pooled on the floor. “Mmm…you smell delicious. Wet already? I thought you might enjoy the show.”
He cut short her whimper when he tilted her face for a scorching kiss. But he didn’t steal her concentration from the other men for long. When she turned her head back, they had paused. Had they heard her?
Please, don’t stop!
As though they read her thoughts, the two men resumed their rough play. James’s stout throat worked around Neil’s embedded cock. She almost cried out again when his jaw slid forward, dragging his lower lip over Neil’s tight sac.
“Fuck! Where did you learn that trick?” Neil panted.
“From me.”
Kate’s eyes widened as Dave strolled in from the living room. An impressive bulge tented the front of his cargo shorts. His hulking frame and towering stature might have been intimidating if he weren’t so quick to joke or lend a helping hand when needed.
“Son of a bitch. Can’t you two go five minutes without getting off?” Joe followed a step behind Dave. “We have a deadline…”
He should have saved his breath. James continued to give Neil what looked like a world-class blow job. She thought Neil’s gaze flickered toward her and Mike’s hiding spot, but he didn’t say anything.
Joe grinned, then shrugged at Dave. “Now’s as good a time as any for a break. We need them to concentrate when we snap the chalk lines for the patio or everything will be out of square, and we’ll spend all afternoon fixing it anyway.”
The easygoing partner stripped his shorts off in two seconds flat. His cock, bare beneath the khaki, sprang free. He put one hand on the counter then hopped up beside Neil with animal grace. When his balls rested on the cool marble they’d upgraded to, he hissed.
“Come on, Dave. I see you checking out James’s ass. What are you waiting for?”
Desire: Blend sinful with sweet. Whip to perfection. Don’t forget to lick the spoon…
Pink Buttercream Frosting
© 2009 Lissa Matthews
Aidn Greer is a much-sought-after Dominant in the BDSM lifestyle with an unusual problem. He hasn’t owned a submissive in more years than he cares to think about. He’s bored with unchallenging women, yet mentoring other Doms and training subs has left him cold as well. He’s craving something other than plain old vanilla—a taste of something sinfully sweet that, for once, he can really sink his teeth into.
Professional cake baker Bailey Harris wasted ten years bored to tears with her marriage, enduring a job she hated, and harboring a secret desire for something passionate, fulfilling and dark. Then she found it…in the world of BDSM. Exploring on her own brought the kind of mind-opening experiences that led her to declare her independence—and exposed a yearning to find the one Dom for whom she’s willing to kneel. Permanently.
When Aidn and Bailey meet, it’s fire and ice. Sugar and spice. And an experience that satisfies every detail of both their fantasies. Almost. While the big, beautiful sub is everything Aidn wanted, her fierce independent streak could be more of a challenge than he bargained for…
Warning: This book brings together scorching-hot counter sex, decadent pink frosting, and no-holds-barred BDSM play for a spanking good time. Be sure to bring an ice-cold drink along…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Pink Buttercream Frosting:
Bailey pasted a smile on her face as she greeted her two o’clock appointment. Just because she hated all things having to do with men and romance and love and sex thanks to Mr. Slink Away Dominant, didn’t mean she couldn’t be sincerely happy for the newly engaged couple seated across the table from her. Did it? No, of course not. She was, after all, a professional.
“So, what’s the date of your wedding?”
“Valentine’s weekend,” the bride gushed, holding tightly to the arm of her very uncomfortable looking groom.
Bailey understood his pain and wanted to throw up, wanted to break her pencil and jab Barbie Bride in the eyes with the jagged ends. “Oh, isn’t that just wonderful!”
“Yes! Please tell me that you have the date open for a wedding. I just don’t know what I’d do if you’re already booked.”
“Let me check the calendar to be sure.” She flipped open her day planner and made a show of checking dates. She was open for anything, everything, and most especially Barbie’s wedding. “Yes, actually, I am still available and that gives us just about six months.”
“Oh that is just perfect. You were recommended so highly that I just had to have you and you did such a gorgeous job with my friend’s wedding cake. I knew you’d be perfect for what I want.”
Bailey was touched, this time truly touched by the kind words. “That’s a great compliment, thank you. What is your color scheme? Red and white?”
The bride beamed. “White with red and pink accents. Perfect for Valentine’s Day, don’t you think?”
Pencil snapping. Jagged ends. Deep breath. All without her smile faltering. “Absolutely. What color pink?”
“I want a really pretty shade and not anything that would clash with the red.”
That feeling of throwing up…it was back. “No, we don’t want anything to clash. I have a variety of cake flavors, do you have a preference?”
“Chocolate. That’s what you made for Angie’s wedding and it was to die for.”
“Great. Chocolate. Buttercream frosting?” Did they see the tightness around her mouth at all or was it just something Bailey was feeling as she looked at them?
“Is that what was on Angie’s cake? I want it to taste just like hers. Can you do that? Make it taste exactly like hers?”
The plea was so earnest that Bailey fought not to laugh. “I’m pretty sure it was buttercream I used on hers and yes, I can make it taste just like that.”
“Oh, good. And I want roses all over it in pink and red.”
“All right. Let me get one of my pattern books and you can see if there’s something that fits the vision you have in your head. I’ll just be a second.”
Bailey stood, walked behind the counter and knelt down, trying to compose herself, trying to get back the professionalism she was quickly losing. She didn’t know why she was losing it, except for the fact that images of Aidn kept drifting in and out of her mind. It wasn’t marriage she was seeing though, it was a collaring, which was dumb as she’d only been with him once and he’d walked away. It was just a feeling, a gut feeling, that he was the one. It was a feeling that pissed her off.
A few deep breaths later, she stood and pasted another smile on her face. She grabbed some wedding cake books and a couple of magazines and set them on the table for Barbie and Ken to begin going through. “I have some cake samples if you’d like to try them.”
“No, that’s fine. I know what the chocolate tasted like and that’s what I want. I don’t need to taste anything else,” Barbie said absently, her eyes and fingers devouring the pages of cakes in front of her. Ken simply sat there, helpless, looking even more uncomfortable in the silence that ensued. Bailey tried to give him an encouraging and kind smile but wasn’t sure she pulled it off.
�
�This one!”
Bailey looked at the picture that the bride was pointing to and inwardly groaned. The cake consisted of four stacked tiers, with cascades of icing roses from the top to the bottom and gum-paste petals sprinkled along the base.
“And I want alternating red and pink roses.”
“And the scattered, loose petals?”
“Can you make them white? Or would it be better if they were a color?”
“I think either would look lovely, but it’s whatever you want. It’s your big day.”
“Yes, it is,” she squealed.
“And what do you think?” Bailey asked, turning toward the still-silent groom.
“Oh he doesn’t care. He likes whatever I like.”
Sheepishly he shrugged his shoulders and nodded his head. For some reason the gesture caused a small twinge of sadness in Bailey. Her husband had been like that. Agreeing to whatever she wanted, never having much to say about anything. His nonchalant attitude about work, social plans, life and her…it was just more than she could take for the rest of her life. Now that she’d found heat and passion in a whole different personal lifestyle, she couldn’t regret having left him and striking out on her own.
She did wish things had worked out differently with Aidn though, that it had been more than just a one afternoon deal.
After filling out some paperwork and taking a deposit, Bailey walked the happy couple out and then returned to the kitchen. She needed to bake, to play. It helped her forget, to cope through tough times.
Half a bag of powdered sugar later, along with half a pound of butter, some vanilla and cream, she was feeling pretty good. Aidn hadn’t crossed her mind but three or four hundred times. Surely, that was some sort of improvement.
He always wanted what he couldn’t have…
Forbidden
© 2009 Karen Erickson
Playing With Fire, Book 1
Forbidden desires, secret needs…that’s not what girls are made of. At least, that’s what Michaela’s past boyfriends told her when she revealed her darkest, dirtiest fantasies. She knows she’s better off without the exes, but she’s lonely—and horny. It doesn’t help that her roommate, Austin, is the most gorgeous man she’s ever laid eyes on. Too bad he’s bisexual…or so he says.
There’s a reason Austin hasn’t been with a woman in a long time. The only one he wants is Michaela. He’s fought his attraction for months, waiting for a sign, desperate to show her she’s everything he wants in a lover. One illicit kiss leads to an explosive night of sex that leaves her wanting more—yet afraid. But Austin is a patient man, more than willing to tear down her boundaries piece by piece. Exposing her to pleasures she’s never known.
Trust leads her to whisper her most deeply held fantasy. One that rouses a new emotion Austin didn’t expect: jealousy. Possessiveness. He’s the only man he wants in her life. And he’ll do whatever it takes to prove it…
Enjoy the following excerpt for Forbidden:
Shaking her head, she started up the stairs, her legs growing more tired with every step. The last two weeks had been exhausting, overwhelming. So many things to learn. So many things to do. A nice dinner would be a joy. Especially since she’d been living on fast food lately. She wondered where Austin was taking her.
Opening the door, she sucked in a shocked breath, drinking in what was laid out before her.
The house seemed staged for seduction. Warm golden light glowed from the dim lamps. The shades were drawn, helping cast shadows throughout, and lit candles flickered on the coffee table, along the kitchen counter, atop the small dining room table.
Michaela shut the door behind her, leaning against it to take the scene in. Soft music played in the background, mellow and sensual. The apartment was actually clean—no thanks to her since she’d worked so much, the couch plumped and inviting, rich velvet pillows scattered across it.
“You’re late.”
She looked up, caught the broad shadowy figure standing in the kitchen doorway. Austin emerged from the shadows, breathtaking in a simple black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and faded jeans. She couldn’t move, could barely think as he approached her, his lips tilted upward, eyes crinkling at the corners just before his mouth broke out into that full smile she loved so much.
“I’m sorry,” she said as he stopped just before her. “Work has been hectic and I tried to get out of there on time, but Tania needed to go over something with me…”
He silenced her with the press of his index finger over her lips. She quieted, her lips parting when he traced them, his touch sending shooting sparks of electricity spiraling throughout her body.
“You need to relax. You work too much.” His velvety voice smoothed over her, made her limbs weak, her heart race. He was being kind, thoughtful and she’d been such a bitch.
She didn’t deserve this. She didn’t deserve him.
Clearing her throat, she forced the words out. “Did you make dinner?”
He laughed, the sound rich and inviting, and her panties grew damp. All because of his laugh. Lord, she had it bad. “I burn water. I ordered in. Your favorite.”
“Chan’s?” Their go-to for Chinese takeout. They both loved that place.
Nodding, he took her hand and led her to the table. It was set with her only placemats and her favorite dishes, cloth napkins that matched the placemats folded atop the plates. A cluster of cream candles burned in the center of the table, their wicks sputtering and flickering, and she turned to look at him, the surprise she felt surely written all over face.
“You did this all for me?” Her voice squeaked, and she felt her cheeks heat. Embarrassment flooded her that he would think of her like this and yet she had treated him shabbily.
“Yes.” He pushed the hair away from her shoulder, his fingers lingering on her bare skin. “We haven’t spent much time together. I wanted to make tonight special.”
“Thank you.” She went to him, stood on tiptoe and brushed a lingering kiss to his lips. “I’m starved.”
His eyes sparkled with interest. “I’ll bring dinner out.”
He waited on her, bringing out plate after plate of steaming food, all of their favorites and she figured he must’ve spent a fortune. The food was excellent, she spent the first ten minutes just consuming food, no time to talk. She couldn’t remember the last time they had ordered from Chan’s.
Austin acted like the perfect gentleman, asking her about work, and she poured her heart out, giving him all the details of the last two weeks. She couldn’t believe she’d kept all of this from him, had avoided him for so long. She’d done it out of fear, afraid that things would be forever changed between them and though they were, they still had this easy comfortableness together.
Yet she was aware of him as a man. A rather sexy man. The way his fingers wrapped around his glass, long and tapered, smoothing up and down. Reminding her of how they had touched her, glided over her skin, sunk deep inside her.
So not smart to go there. She squirmed in her chair, her panties growing damper by the minute, and he caught her staring, his gaze snagging hers, a knowing look on his face.
“I’ve missed you, Michaela.” His voice was soft, husky. “But it sounds like things are crazy at work.”
“They are.” She paused and looked down, drawing her fork across her plate, playing with the leftover rice. “I’ve been avoiding you, though. It’s not all been work.”
“I know.”
Michaela watched him, the way he slouched in his chair, his forearms resting on the edge of the table. He looked delectable. He always did, no matter what. “You didn’t have to do all of this for me.”
“I wanted to.” He sat up straighter, his expression going serious. “We need to talk.”
Oh, God, here we go. She should tell him how she really felt. It would be easiest now, with the table as some sort of barrier between them. She could spit it out and be done with it.
She only hoped he was receptive.