Just Press Play

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by M. A. Ellis




  Just Press Play

  M.A. Ellis

  Erin learned a great deal during one of the workshops at RomantiCon. But she never dreamed, when she asked her friends to help act out one of her sex scenes, that her tape player would fall into the hands of a ridiculously hot, younger man.

  Daniel loves older women and has lusted after Erin for years. He’s been waiting for the perfect time to approach her. He can’t wait to find out if she’s channeling her own desires into the characters in her book. Daniel thinks Erin is a secret exhibitionist and it’s finally time to step up and let her know he’s ready for anything she’s up for.

  Erin isn’t the only one adept at sexual choreography. Before she can say “watch me”, Daniel—riding crop in hand—has her bent over a table at a sex club, determined to fulfill every dark fantasy Erin has ever had.

  An Ellora’s Cave Romantica Publication

  www.ellorascave.com

  Just Press Play

  ISBN 9781419929021

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  Just Press Play Copyright © 2010 M.A. Ellis

  Edited by Pamela Campbell

  Cover art by Syneca

  Electronic book publication September 2010

  The terms Romantica® and Quickies® are registered trademarks of Ellora’s Cave Publishing.

  With the exception of quotes used in reviews, this book may not be reproduced or used in whole or in part by any means existing without written permission from the publisher, Ellora’s Cave Publishing, Inc.® 1056 Home Avenue, Akron OH 44310-3502.

  Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the publisher’s permission. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. (http://www.fbi.gov/ipr/). Please purchase only authorized electronic or print editions and do not participate in or encourage the electronic piracy of copyrighted material. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the authors’ imagination and used fictitiously.

  Just Press Play

  M.A. Ellis

  Acknowledgement

  With heartfelt appreciation to the man who makes a trip to Aisle 17 of the local home improvement store a near-orgasmic experience. Your tutorial took it the rest of the way. Knowledge and patience—what more could a girl ask for?

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Agent Provocateur: 3i, private equity firm

  BlackBerry: Research In Motion Limited

  Calvin Klein Jeans: Calvin Klein Trademark Trust

  Dora the Explorer: Viacom International, Inc.

  Fortune 100: Time Inc. Corporation Delaware

  Godfather: Paramount Pictures Corporation

  Gumby: Prema Toy Company, Inc.

  iPod: Apple, Inc.

  Playboy: Playboy Enterprises International, Inc.

  RomantiCon: Jasmine-Jade Enterprises

  Scrabble: Hasbro, Inc.

  Town Car: Ford Motor Company

  Prologue

  Daniel leaned over, resting his forearms against the railing of the deck as he watched the activity below. His two-year-old niece Laurel squealed with delight, her tiny legs moving as fast as possible as she raced toward her godmother’s open arms. Erin Benson dropped to her knees in the thick, manicured lawn and Daniel shifted, glad that everyone’s attention was focused on the birthday girl and not on the fact that he seemed to have sported a semi-boner. The curvy redhead who lived in the stately Tudor next door had that effect on him. She had for years.

  Less than an hour before, she had opened the door to his sister’s home, a Dora the Explorer party hat perched atop her head and her hazel eyes filled with laughter. That was when his dick had reminded him it served a purpose other than keeping the top of his balls warm. She had greeted him as she greeted everyone else—with a bright smile and a sound hug. It had taken all his control not to toss the wrapped box containing a miniature tea set to the floor and pull her closer, crush those massive breasts tight against his chest.

  He blinked, watching her wiggle her fingers at his niece, imploring Laurel to come to her instead of one of the other people vying for the toddler’s attention.

  Wouldn’t it be something if she offered you that same gesture? Naked of course. Middle of your bed. Sun streaming down around her body.

  “Nothin’ sexier than an older woman,” Daniel barely whispered.

  “I heard that,” said Zac, his best bud from childhood, who joined him at the rail and offered him a plastic cup filled with a cloudy red-colored concoction. “If we’re talking about your older-by-four-minutes sister—I concur. I like her now that she has a little more junk in the trunk. And those tits have only gotten better since she birthed the pint-sized banshee down there. You think she’s had work, because they seem way perkier than I remember.“

  Daniel took a tentative sip of his drink. Zac had undoubtedly found good-quality vodka and some pineapple juice to add to the non-alcoholic party punch, but Daniel refused to swallow the I-fucked-your-twin-sister bait. It had been years ago, but his friend tended to bring it up whenever he was feeling bulletproof. Or simply looking for Daniel to beat the shit out of him. Zac was a little masochistic at times, but as crazy as he was, Daniel doubted he wanted to be laid out at a two-year-old’s birthday bash.

  He refrained from commenting on the fact that his friend probably could get it on with his sister, but Zac would have to be willing to do it as a threesome. Zac, Linda and her husband Paul. He was pretty certain his friend didn’t roll that way, and even more certain that his sister would have already approached Zac if she and Paul had found him an acceptable addition to their bedroom preferences.

  “So, Godfather,” Zac said in a pretty dead-on Brando impersonation, “you gonna make her an offer she can’t refuse?”

  Daniel remained silent, choosing instead to watch Erin pretend to fall over backward from Laurel’s leaping assault, rolling from side to side with his niece in her arms until the little one let out a high-pitched scream of happiness.

  “Of course you’re not.” Zac answered his own question. “You’re gonna stand with your dick in your hand and just lust from afar, aren’t you? Like you have from the day you met her. Five years ago. Five years. When we were enlisted to move her ex’s shit onto the front lawn. She was a crazy bitch then. I’m sure she’s even more insane now.”

  “She wasn’t crazy, dickhead. Just hurt. How do you think women feel when they find out their husband’s been screwing everything in sight? Oh wait,” Daniel said, playing the old-memories card that would undoubtedly shut Zac up. “Let’s call your mom and ask her opinion.”

  To some, it would have seemed a very low blow, but Daniel had been there for Zac as he had gone through the stages of grief surrounding his father’s infidelity. He had watched his friend—two-hundred-twenty pounds of solid man—dissolve into tears when it first happened. He had listened to his confusion. He had stopped him from doing something that would have alienated him from his family for good and probably landed him in jail for premeditated manslaughter.

  “All I’m saying,” Zac said softly. “Is grow a pair, man. You’ve passed up more than a few golden opportunities with her. You could have gotten it on with her after the baptism. Used the whole if-we’re-going-to-be-godparents-shou
ldn’t-we-get-to-know-each-other-a-little-better scenario.”

  “Right, Zac. In the church’s fellowship hall? Oh yeah. Nothing screams ‘classy’ like a quick countertop fuck. Right there between the roaster full of pulled pork and a pot of mac and cheese.”

  “Damn. I still remember that mac and cheese. It was awesome,” Zac said in a reflective voice. “When’s the last time you had your pork pulled? By someone other than your friend Lefty? This whole monk thing has got to go, dude. And don’t give me that shit about you traveling here, there and everywhere. If you want what’s in your own backyard—or Linda’s backyard, rather­—you gotta make a move. You’re a decent-enough-lookin’ guy, maybe not as polished to perfection as me—”

  Daniel turned his head to offer his friend a you’re-shitting-me glance.

  “But if I was some over-the-hill babe who spent her days working in a midcity high-rise and her nights alone in that fortress next door…I’d fuck you.” Zac offered him a crooked smile.

  “Thanks for the warning, ass ranger.” Daniel shook his head and took a long swig of his drink and promptly started coughing.

  “C’mon, dude. This isn’t as perfect a setting as, let’s say, a wedding reception. But we get her to down a couple of these,” he shook his own cup from side to side, “you offer to walk her home—older-woman fantasy fulfilled.”

  “She’s not some gullible co-ed and I do not need to get women drunk to have sex with them. It never works out when you plot and plan. Haven’t you learned anything over the years? The best relationships come from spontaneity. You have to have enough faith that whatever’s meant to be is going to be.”

  “Well thank you Dr. Fuckin’ Phil. Or have you been boning up on some Far East tai chi, feng shui bullshit? You think she’s going to wake up one morning and it’ll just hit her? She’ll pick up the paper and see it plastered across the headlines or flashing on one of the scrolling subway ads? You think something is just going to flit across her computer screen saying ‘this is the day you need to go out and fuck someone half your age’?”

  “I’m not half her age. She’s only forty-one.”

  “And she ain’t getting any younger. I still say go for it. Today.”

  “Thanks for the advice, bud. But I’ll bide my time. Plus, my flight leaves at six tomorrow morning.” When he finally got the chance to bury himself in the lovely Ms. Benson’s warmth, it wasn’t going to be for a few hours. He’d wanted her too long for that. It was going to be long and drawn out. She’d be begging—hell, there was every chance he’d be begging but that wouldn’t matter. He’d show her all the things she’d been missing. He’d find out exactly what she desired and he’d fulfill each and every one of those dreams. He knew a great deal about the hidden fantasies of older women and he was about to consider exactly what Erin might like when Zac broke into his thoughts.

  “Five weeks in Japan. That corporate consulting is a tough gig. Gonna try out your hand at a little bukkake while you’re there?”

  His gross humor was always an indication that he was done trying to persuade Daniel. Done being serious. Which was perfectly fine.

  “You’re a perv, Zac. You realize that, don’t you?”

  “Yeah. But it’s a perversion some ladies love.” He tapped his cup against Daniel’s and grinned. “When you decide to forgo the shriveled, cavernous pussies, I know a sweet little Fortune 100 blogger who’d be more than happy to let you practice what you learn in the Orient.”

  “Really? She’d be waiting for me to expound on maximum profitability through workforce reconstruction and adaptation of improved management regime?”

  “Absolutely…if you did it while she was strapped to an exercise bench and you were tea bagging her.”

  “That’s just wrong,” Daniel said with a little laugh.

  “One man’s wrong is another man’s hot,” Zac replied with a laugh of his own.

  “You don’t know what hot is. Finely aged doesn’t mean dried up.”

  Daniel saw a little rubber ball sailing toward them, his sister’s subtle hint that he should get his ass off the deck and come play. He and Zac reached for it at the same time, deflecting it downward onto the grass, where Laurel ran to pick it up.

  “So you’ve said for the past few years but at least admit that doing the older ones does mean enough room to fit your dick, her vibrator and whatever the vegetable of the day is on that porn site you’re addicted to.”

  “You’re so full of sh—” Daniel stopped himself and looked down at Laurel, who was now standing at the bottom of the steps, offering him the ball. “You’re dead wrong, man.”

  He slapped his friend on the shoulder and bounded down the steps, waiting until Laurel ran toward her mother before turning toward Zac and offering him an antagonistic grin.

  “You have no idea what you’re missing, man. Besides, my dick doesn’t leave a whole lot of room for much of anything else, organic or artificial,” Daniel joked softly. “Just ask your sister.”

  Chapter One

  “That was utterly delicious, Erin. How ’bout it, sweetheart? You get enough to eat? I think you missed one little spot of Bolognese sauce.”

  Erin watched her neighbor Paul reach across the small table and wipe an imaginary spot from the corner of his wife’s mouth. He brought his thumb to his lips and licked it in a far from subtle manner.

  “Did you get it?” Linda asked in a tone that couldn’t help but invite further innuendo.

  “Oh, I got it,” Paul replied, giving his wife a hot look that had Erin bringing her glass of Chardonnay quickly to her lips. After years of friendship, she was well accustomed to their unabashed flirtatiousness. Usually it didn’t bother her in the least, but tonight she was a little on edge.

  She drained her glass, raising a questioning brow when both her friends looked her way.

  “Oooookay,” Paul said, pushing his chair away from the table. “Should I grab a second bottle from the wine cooler?”

  “Sure.”

  “No,” Linda said firmly, turning her attention to Erin. “What’s the deal, Two Drink Wonder?”

  “What?” Erin asked, enjoying the flowing warmth that snaked from her stomach to her face.

  “You’re obviously nervous or you wouldn’t be pounding the Pinot. Did something happen at the office?” Linda asked, reaching across the table and placing her hand on Erin’s wrist.

  Things at work had been a little tense these days but Erin had been there long enough that she wasn’t worried. Public relations of any sort weren’t about to dissolve overnight. PR for several of the nation’s top beauty conglomerates allowed her more than a modicum of job security. No, her day job wasn’t the problem.

  “Everything’s fine,” Erin said with a brilliantly non-convincing smile.

  “Just tell us,” Paul said, taking Erin’s other hand. “We’ve got plenty of time tonight since we have a sitter who doesn’t have to be home by ten o’clock because tomorrow is a school day.”

  “We can forego the game of Scrabble too. You constantly kick our asses anyway,” Linda said, pulling Erin’s arm upward as she stood. “Time to share, share or sit on a chair. Let’s head into your living room and get comfy.”

  Erin swallowed and took a deep breath. She’d never get a better opening than the one Linda had just tossed her way.

  “What if we headed to my bedroom instead?”

  She watched her friend’s eyes widen, heard the scrape of Paul’s chair as he scooted it closer and whispered, “Really? Are you serious?”

  Erin met his anticipatory gaze and exhaled the breath she’d been holding. Apparently her words hadn’t come out quite the way she had planned. She’d been brainstorming how to enlist their help since the day after she had sat in on a workshop at the erotic romance convention she had attended a few weeks back. RomantiCon had been a great experience, on numerous levels. She’d talked to her favorite authors, drooled over the hunky cover models, met other women and two men who were pursuing their writing dreams.


  The workshop was a masterful presentation by the publisher herself, a woman who undoubtedly could wear a crown of omnificence, although it was clear throughout the three-day conference that she preferred stylish hats above all other head ornamentation. Her suggestions had been enlightening. Complete with audience participation, props and numerous laughs, it dealt with choreographing the author’s action and sex scenes. Some of the women in the audience, the ones who were readers and not aspiring authors, were clearly there in the hope that some of the cover models would be present to help with the “sex scene” part.

  But Erin had been there for knowledge, not the beefcake. She knew she had what it took to be an author. She’d majored in business in college, but she’d minored in English and writing. She’d had poetry published in a few literary magazines. Her stuff was good. She was confident of that fact but it was just a matter of getting it out there. Having it read. Getting a contract. For that to happen, the manuscript had to be spotlessly perfect.

  “I need you guys—”

  “Are you sure?” Linda interjected, plopping back down into her chair. Erin saw the little sparkle in her friend’s eyes and tried to pull her hand free. It took a little effort but Linda eventually let go.

  “Holy shit,” Paul whispered. “I can’t believe you’ve finally come around. We’ll call Danny and see if he can spend the night so we don’t have to rush.”

  Erin’s eyes nearly crossed at the thought of them calling Linda’s twin brother—who had graciously agreed to babysit Laurel despite the fact that he’d just returned from an extended business trip—and telling him they wouldn’t be coming home due to the fact they were finally going to partake in the threesome the younger couple had been offering Erin since a month after her divorce was final.

 

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