“Fuck, you’re good,” he grunted and cradled her head in his hands.
Opening his eyes again, his head too heavy to move, he marveled at the way she devoured him whole. His cock twitched, and he braced himself for the imminent explosion. Jenny’s lips abandoned his shaft.
“What the fuck?”
“She’ll make you beg for it.” Mitch’s voice came from behind the couch.
Derrick’s head snapped around to find his friends naked and ready for action.
“We’ll teach you to share.” Bryant nodded toward his bedroom door. “Follow us.”
Derrick’s eyes took in the king-size bed, but Mitch gestured to an armchair facing it. “Sit down and enjoy the lesson. She’ll let you know when you may join us.”
His eyebrows shot up. “What the hell are you blabbing about? I thought she was a sub.”
“We made that mistake the first night. We set it straight yesterday,” Bryant explained, a smitten expression on his face. “It’s not a power play for us.”
“That’s a first.”
Derrick’s jaw dropped to his chest when Jenny returned to the bedroom. Covered in a barely-there black bra and matching panties, she approached the bed and took their breath away. Bryant and Mitch knelt on the bed covers, their stares glued to her. She had them wrapped around her little finger, tighter than the leather dress she’d worn earlier.
“Mitch, you were a good boy yesterday. Keep it up, and I might let you.” She cupped his chin and licked his lips. Just a stroke, enough to make the three men sigh.
Derrick had no clue what she’d promised Mitch, but his long moan indicated it was something he craved. Intrigued, Derrick followed her as Jenny framed Bryant’s face and kissed him, a brief and intense exchange that left him panting.
When Mitch and Bryant sandwiched Jenny’s petite body between theirs, hands caressing her limbs, lips worshipping her skin, Derrick thought his cock would explode.
So fucking hot.
Feeling left out, he wanted in.
As if sensing his heated stare, Jenny cut to his face and smiled. That dimpled grin, on her angel-like face, while two pairs of hands and two eager mouths covered her body undid Derrick.
“Please, Jenny. Let me in,” he begged, not ashamed to do so.
She crooked her finger at him, and Derrick scrabbled to join them. His pants and briefs had stayed behind by the living room couch. He tore at his suit jacket, shirt, and tie. In his eagerness to taste Jenny’s lips, he tumbled them both onto the soft mattress.
Not sure whose chuckles echoed in the room, he devoured her lips as her legs hugged his hips and his cock nestled itself between her slippery folds.
Heaven.
“That she is.” Bryant’s voice sounded to his right.
He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but he didn’t backtrack it.
Jenny braced herself on her forearms when Derrick came up for air. Her stern expression spoke volumes as she eyeballed their intertwined bodies. “We’re learning to share, remember?”
God, she was good. Like a goddamn sexy teacher schooling a stubborn student.
“Sit on your heels,” she directed Derrick, and he scrambled to obey.
What the fuck?
Holding his gaze, she suited his junk with a condom before straddling him. She lowered her body, slowly impaling herself on his erection.
So fucking hot he thought he’d explode before she sat on his lap.
He did not, thank God.
“Get me ready,” she commanded Mitch.
He obeyed. As her sex squeezed Derrick’s cock and she rode him, Mitch squirted lube on his latex-dressed dick and between her ass cheeks. That was what she had promised him. No wonder Mitch had moaned. Derrick grunted, imagining his cock balls deep inside her tight ass, while his hands squeezed her perfect butt.
“God!” Derrick growled, when her fingers pinched his nipples.
He latched his mouth on her nipple, sucking the taut nub, reveling in her moans. They became gasps as Mitch moved behind her.
“So tight,” Mitch grunted. “I don’t want to hurt you, Jen.”
“Lie back,” Derrick suggested. As his friend complied, pulling Jen’s back over his chest, Derrick pulled out of Jenny, and knelt on the bed, straddling Mitch’s legs.
Derrick penetrated Jenny again, spurring his movements in and out of her wet folds made tighter by Mitch’s cock filling her ass.
“This is what sharing feels like? I might get used to it,” Derrick confessed, his hand massaging Jenny’s breast as he watched her head fall back, eyes closed, her sex gripping his body like a vise.
When Derrick thought they had reached their limit of naughtiness, Bryant stood by the bed beside them, and nudged Jenny’s parted lips with the tip of his cock. The beads of moisture crowning his swollen head meant he had jerked off while watching them. Bryant’s long shaft disappeared down her throat.
As if they had rehearsed, the three CEOs set a harmonious rhythm to their movements. Jenny’s pliant body writhed in pleasure as she moaned around Bryant’s cock. Her walls tightened around Derrick’s shaft when her orgasms began, triggering his own.
He unloaded himself deep inside her sex, filling the condom. His warm jets brought on a new wave of release for Jenny, which made Mitch grunt and come. Bryant tried to pull out of her mouth, but she gripped his butt as he exploded down her throat.
Their mouths covered her skin, their arms encircled her trembling flesh, and their hard chests supported her limp body as Jenny passed out in their arms.
Entangled and elated, they tumbled on the covers.
Bryant’s and Mitch’s heavy breathing filled his ears and the sweet scent of Jenny’s arousal filled his nostrils as Derrick drifted into slumber.
Epilogue
The Future
The lazy notes of a bluesy tune invaded Jenny’s bedroom and the scents of jasmine and roses wrapped around her. The sweltering air of the Garden District outside called for indolent music and intensified the flowers’ perfume. She sent a silent prayer for the air conditioning inside that made summers bearable in New Orleans.
Jenny tried on a sultry smile in the mirror as she smoothed the black minidress that hugged her body. Rhinestones around its collar sparkled under the lights. She turned around to check the effect of the sky-high pumps she wore. They made her shapely legs longer and drew attention to her ass.
Perfect. Just the way she liked it.
Just what she needed to make her CEOs drool.
Her smile broadened at the thought of Mitch, Bryant, and Derrick. It had been one year since they met, six months since Sexy & Sinful Spa & Resort had opened its doors, and she still had trouble believing how lucky she had gotten. She looped her bag over her shoulder and stepped into the corridor. At the exact same time, the three men she loved the most left their bedrooms.
Eyeballing them, she opened her arms wide, and they shared a brief group hug. “Let’s go, boys. I’m famished.”
They kissed her cheeks.
As they climbed down the stairs, Bryant asked, “Have you given any thoughts to my suggestion for our sleeping arrangement, Jenny? I have a hard time falling asleep on the nights they get to sleep with you. Call me a wuss, but I miss having your warmth around me.”
“B, I cannot handle sex with all of you on a regular basis. I love it, but it’s too much. I fainted the last time we tried.”
Mitch nodded and added, “Only on special occasions, B. We’ve gone over that.”
“I wouldn’t mind giving Bryant’s idea a try,” Derrick intervened as he held the front door open for Jenny.
Thankfully, their driver had parked just outside the door. That way the scorching summer air didn’t suffocate her as they settled on the leather seats. Jenny didn’t care much for that weather. It used to be her mom’s favorite season.
As the car pulled away, Mitch’s hand covered hers. “I know you miss her, hon. At least, now she’s not in pain.”
“Thank you.” Jen
ny squeezed his hand back. Always great with people, Mitch had been her rock after her mother had passed away. Each one of them had supported her in their own way. “I appreciate you all for helping me get through these last couple of months.” She forced her mind to focus on more enjoyable thoughts. “Mitch, would you like to try B’s suggestion, too? Tonight is your night, so I guess it’s fair you have the decisive vote.”
“Fuck yeah!”
She chuckled. “Motion approved, meeting adjourned.”
“If we don’t stay on top of things, Miss Jenny Taylor might steal our jobs,” Derrick teased.
“Thanks, but no thank you,” she countered. Her gaze swept the three gorgeous men who had turned her life upside down in the most delicious sense of the expression. “It’s settled, then. Starting tonight, B and Derrick may climb in bed to sleep with us after we make love.”
“Tomorrow, Mitch and I will join you and Derrick,” Bryant added, his whiskey eyes gleaming as bright as Christmas lights.
Derrick’s scorching stare made Jenny’s blood rush down her body. “That might take a while, my friend. I’ve got a couple of new things I want to try with her.”
“I recognized the boxes, you fool. My company distributes them.” Bryant winked at her.
Jenny leaned back on the seat, her heart bursting at the seams as she watched her men horsing around.
So damn hot.
So damn cute.
She was a damn lucky lady.
The End
This is the first story in the Sexy & Sinful Series, a spinoff of the Club Desire Series, where you find Jenny Taylor as a supporting character.
The Sexy & Sinful series will feature standalone stories set in the resort introducing new characters as well as these ones.
www.lizgavin.com
Lust
Club Desire Series
Kink and lust turn true love to break a century-old curse.
Magical, sinful New Orleans attracts many lost souls who find haven at kinky Club Desire. Marcel Revault is the real deal: bound to the house, haunting it for over 150 years.
Clara Hervaux, movie-star extraordinaire, indulges in her dark side as a club regular with Master Sam and Mistress Jenny. As an empath, though, she’s gotten hooked on Marcel’s otherworldly sexiness.
When Clara goes missing, Marcel uses their empathic bond to find her at the mercy of the witch who had bound him to the house.
Will he break the curse to save Clara? Or will she fall prey to the jealous witch?
Can a ghost and a movie star find their happily ever after?
Find this and other steamy stories by Liz Gavin at www.lizgavin.com.
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About the Author
VISIT HER WEBSITE - http://lizgavin.com/
International best-selling author Liz Gavin, has seen her books climb the charts to #1 and Top Five best-selling ranks in her home country Brazil and in others as diverse as Japan, the UK and the US.
Liz lives in sunny SoCal, where she writes contemporary, paranormal, and historical romances. In her steamy stories, you’ll find smart, independent women, who don’t need rescuing by knights in shining armor, but indulge in naughty action with swoony Alpha males with big hearts. She also writes about women discovering their sexuality and finding happiness in unconventional setups.
Office Hours
Jewel Killian
Copyright © 2018 Jewel Killian
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Office Hours
I couldn’t help the tiny shiver that ran down my spine. He took up more space than his six-and-a-half-foot frame should, like his presence somehow filled the room, stealing all the air and leaving only his pheromones and the nagging sense that I’d eventually succumb to them.
I could interview gorgeous, built, intelligent men all day long, hell, they could flirt with me all day long and I wouldn’t break a sweat. But Gabe Stevens was another matter entirely.
I hated him. I hated the way he did business, the way he treated women, the way he took up so much goddamn space in my office. But mostly I hated how much my body didn’t hate him at all.
1
Isla
There are four types of men in the world. Our latest applicant, a cool guy type, was physically perfect—blond hair, steely blue eyes and a crisp white shirt pulled taut over his hard chest. The easy going vibe and boyish, non-threatening good looks made him easy to peg.
They were all physically perfect. But my job was to make sure they had that little extra something. That “it” factor as it’s known around here. I flipped through his application packet. He had great stats, scored well on the personality exam, above average IQ, plus he was tall which was always a hit with my clients.
But the real test was the one-on-one time with me. “Tell me about yourself,” I glanced at his application again, “Mr. Retter.”
He smiled, showing me each of his too-white and too-straight teeth. He stole a quick look at the name plate on my desk and I braced myself for what was about to happen.
“Please, call me Jonas, Eezlah.”
I put on a fake smile and gently corrected him. “It’s Isla, Eye-luh.” I bounced on the phonetics for him. “It’s Scottish.” I didn’t blame him. No one knew how to pronounce my name. But for God’s sake, if you’re being interviewed don’t just take a stab at it and hope for the best.
I didn’t blame him, but I definitely didn’t want him probing further. That would be the end of the interview right then and I needed a new hire yesterday. Correcting people for mispronouncing my unusual name was one thing but if I had to hear “you don’t look Scottish” one more time...
He shook his head and dialed down his smile from Hollywood hero to bashful and apologetic.“Of course. I should have asked before murdering your beautiful name.”
Points for a smooth recovery.
“Where were we?” I asked.
“You asked me to tell you more about myself. But you already know everything worth knowing about me,” he gestured to his application packet. “I’m much more interested in hearing about you, Isla.” He leaned forward, an effort to cultivate intimacy.
His boyish charm was effective if anything.
Normally I’d throw a few soft balls just get an applicant warmed up but I had a feeling this guy could field a soft toss in his sleep. I went all out, full blast out of the gate.
“Well, Jonas, I just crossed my legs under the desk and I swear I could almost hear the seams of my pencil skirt screaming in protest because apparently stress eating comes with twelve hour work days preparing to hand over the reigns of my company to a nameless, faceless CEO wanting to buy it and take my brand coast to coast. Which, of course, I’m thrilled about. But I’m not exactly thrilled with how little time it’s leaving for the gym and how none of my clothes fit anymore.”
Normally, if an applicant asked about me—and only the great ones did—I fed them a half-baked story about my cat (don’t own a cat) not doing well or my boyfriend (don’t have one of those either) cheating, or something everyone has dealt with at some point, but not actually true in the least. The intention was to see how easily they developed a rapport with a stranger because that was about ninety percent of the job.
But this guy—I wanted to see what this guy could do.
He reached across my desk and took my hand in his. “Is this what you want to be doing?” he asked staring deep into my eyes.
“Yeah,” I didn’t hesitate.
“Then don’t worry about a little extra curve in your swerve, Isla. Be happy doing what you’re doing and when you’re done, treat yourself to some new clothes with all that nameless, f
aceless CEO guy money.”
I smiled at him, took my hand from his and buzzed my assistant. “Margo, get Mr. Retter settled in with an orientation packet, please.”
“Sure thing, Isla.”
“Does that mean I’m…”
“Yup. Margo will get you all squared away.”
“Great. That’s great. Thank you.” He shook my hand a little too forcefully and left my office.
That was easy enough. I hadn’t expected to hire a replacement so soon or so easily. With the interview concluded early, I sat back in my chair and pulled up the financials I’d been combing through for who knows how long. Checking and re-checking spreadsheets was precisely how I’d imaged hell but I wanted to make sure everything was in perfect order when I handed over the company. I’d only gotten a few pages in when Margo’s shouts came through the door.
“Sir, you can’t go in there! You NEED an appointment. I’d be happy to—”
My office door slammed open so hard it hit the wall. “Is this the kind of business you’re running, Ms. Connor? Is this what I have to look forward to when I take over?” The yelling man threw a folded newspaper on my desk.
I didn’t bother looking. I already knew what it said. Instead, I focused on not looking at the angry man in my doorway. But not looking didn’t keep me from noticing the bespoke suit and old-money way he carried himself. Despite those telltale signs, if I had to guess I’d file him under the bad boy type, that temper put him right in the alpha-male-with-far-too-much-machismo category.
Seduction in a Suit: An Office Romance Collection Page 78