A Four-Gone Conclusion: Lone Star Lovers, Book 5

by Delilah Devlin

  His tight, roughened voice drew her nipples instantly to aching points. She closed her eyes and slowly took off her hat.

  “Your hair. Let it down.”

  Her fingers trembled as she fought the elastic band, but finally her hair fell around her shoulders. She knew it was longer than had been fashionable, but her dad had loved her ponytail and had tweaked it often.

  She gave him a quick glance to gauge his reaction. The flare of his nostrils seemed a good sign he was pleased.

  Her hand rose to smooth down the flyaway strands.

  He reached out, and tipped her chin upward to study her features. “Green. I thought they might be.”

  “Do we still have a bargain?” she asked, trying to sound cool, but knowing he heard the nervous quaver in her voice.

  His response stole her breath away. He stepped so close the heat radiating from his body warmed the space between them. As she tilted back her head to hold his gaze, his head dipped and his mouth covered hers.

  Now she’d been kissed plenty, but she’d never been devoured. He ate her lips, slanting over her mouth, sucking her lower lip between his teeth to nibble and then sealing their mouths to thrust his tongue inside. He swept behind her teeth, stroked over her tongue and curled his to tug and tease until she groaned.

  Kate grasped the corners of his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he circled and prodded and told her without words how he’d fuck her. Hard, relentless—leaving nothing undiscovered.

  She’d never known the likes of the lust that arose inside her—so strong her whole body shuddered with need. She closed the distance between them and pressed her breasts against his chest.

  Ty’s hands dropped from her face and parted her coat to reach inside. He smoothed around her waist to her back, and lower, to cup her bottom and draw her hips close.

  His erection, thick and hard as a post, ground into her belly, building a fire that swelled her pussy and drenched her panties—she was more than ready to keep the bargain. Now!

  He lifted his head and dragged in a deep breath. “I won’t take you here.”

  “Why not?” she asked and glided her lips along his firm jaw.

  “It’s too open.”

  “Who’s gonna watch?” God, couldn’t he tell she didn’t care? She nipped his chin.

  “It’s almost dark. The moon’s rising.”

  “You think werewolves need moonlight to prowl?”

  “I know they’re more vicious when the moon rules them. We go inside.”

  Kate jerked away, and his hands fell to his sides. Maybe he didn’t want her as much as she did him. Maybe he’d just been playing with her to see how far he could lead her. She drew the edges of her duster tight around her and swept her hat from the floor where she’d dropped it. She placed it on top of her loosened hair and gave him a look that anyone who knew her would say meant war.

  “We still have a bargain,” he reminded her.

  “I still don’t follow orders well,” she said through gritted teeth.

  She gave up stripping to go legit…until three Kiowa cowboys bring on the down-and-dirty.

  Boots and Chaps

  © 2012 Myla Jackson

  Ugly Stick Saloon, Book 1

  Jackson Gray Wolf is turning thirty, and what does he have to show for it? A ranch. No wife, no kids, no dates. He’s had his eye on the pretty owner of the Ugly Stick Saloon, but their one accidental encounter was interrupted before he could get her out of her take-me-now red cowboy boots.

  Audrey Anderson isn’t in the market for a man. Been there, done that, has the scars to prove it. She retired her pole-dancing boots after purchasing the Ugly Stick Saloon, and now manages a stable of strippers. When she winds up one stripper short for a private party, she’s forced to slip on a mask and into the role of the mysterious Kiki.

  Jackson didn’t want the birthday bash his twin brothers are throwing him, but his vow to ignore the rented stripper goes awry when she shows him exactly how far she’s willing to go—for all three of them.

  Audrey can’t forget the sizzling heat between her and one sexy Kiowa in particular. Jackson. Trouble is, she’s not sure if he wants the bold, brassy Kiki, or if he’s ready for the wounded woman underneath.

  Warning this title contains hot scenes with multiple partners, with a little BDSM on the side. Caution—it could melt your e-reader!

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Boots and Chaps:

  Audrey couldn’t believe she was getting away with her charade. Her body burned, her pussy wet with her juices. Having Jackson watch as she strutted her stuff in front of his brothers had been so much of a turn-on, she’d broken most of her rules of stripping, and she was raring to break all the rest.

  Luke let go of his grip on her pussy and backed up a step, allowing more room for big brother.

  A thrill of adrenaline shot through Audrey, her core heating to molten hot. The twins were handsome with their dark Kiowa skin, high cheekbones and jet-black hair, and she wouldn’t mind making love to both of them. At the same time. But Jackson…

  She sucked in a long, deep breath and let it out slowly. This was a man’s man. Strip him down to a loincloth and he’d fit right in with his ancestors, hunting buffalo, fighting wars and making love with his woman. His broad shoulders flashed in and out of the strobe, the light casting shadows, emphasizing the distinct muscular definition of his chest and arms.

  Her gaze dropped to the top button of his jeans, flipped casually open as if he’d been in the process of undressing when she’d begun her little dance.

  She drew him near and flicked the other three buttons from their bindings with quick, desperate strokes. As the last button poked through the hole, his cock sprang free, slipping easily into her palm.

  “Knew you weren’t immune to Kiki.” Luke laughed. “Hey, Mark, check out that boner.”

  Jackson jerked back, sliding out of Audrey’s grip.

  Mark swung a wooden stool into the center of the floor and shoved Jackson toward it. “Sit. And no jerking off.”

  He sat and growled at his brothers, his hands going to his open fly and the shaft jutting straight upward.

  Luke cranked the music volume up a notch and danced toward Audrey. “Now that you have the birthday boy in position, let me help you out of that shirt.”

  It wasn’t what Audrey had in mind, but the angry frown on Jackson’s face gave her the courage to taunt him more, show him what he was missing. A little foreplay was just what he needed to make him eager to join the fun.

  Audrey tied the tails of her shirt beneath her breasts, a good start for a strip tease.

  “Did I give you permission to dress?” Luke shook his head and stalked her. “You know what the Gray Wolfs do to naughty girls?”

  Her body quivered as she backed away from Luke and into Mark’s chest.

  Jackson lunged forward.

  “Down, boy.” Luke clamped a hand on Jackson’s shoulder and shoved him back on the seat. “You’ll have your turn. We want to get her ready for you. This is your show, brought to you by the brothers Gray Wolf. Sit back and relax.”

  Jackson growled again, his arms crossing over his chest, hands fisted. “Relax…hmph.”

  Luke grabbed the lapels of Audrey’s shirt and yanked it upward, extending Audrey’s arms high over her head. There he twisted the fabric, knotting it tightly around her wrists. She stood in the bikini thong, chaps and her prettiest black lace demi-bra, her breasts pushed up, ripe for the tasting, should any man in the room care to go for it.

  Audrey’s skin stung where the shirt sleeves had scraped across, the slight pain even more titillating than she’d imagined. She wanted more. “Hey, what if I want to play too?” She tugged, but couldn’t free her hands. As a woman who’d been in control for the past two years, she was struck by this new sensation. These men had her at their mercy, a place she’d rarely allowed herself to be. A place she’d sworn she’d never go to again. But damned if she didn’t want more. She’d play along, just a
little.

  Luke wagged a finger at her. “We are the masters. You don’t have a choice. Submit or suffer punishment.”

  Master. A wash of juices rushed through her pussy. Audrey had been submissive once. What had it bought her? Bruises, broken ribs and heartache. Her ex had shown her the worst side of a Dom-sub relationship. With Luke towering over her, her hands tied in front, her knees shook, but not out of fear. They were liquid with desire, her core tightening, her body screaming for release. Her mind rocked with the realization, her mouth watering for another taste of what was happening to her. How could she be so ready to fall back into that trap?

  “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Kiki.” Jackson’s voice cut through the jumbled fog of her thoughts.

  “I am my own master,” she whispered, her throat dry in anticipation.

  “Not in this house.” Mark crossed his arms over his chest. “If you don’t like it, you can leave.” He jerked his head, indicating the exit.

  Audrey’s gaze skittered toward the door, her breaths now coming in short, rapid succession. She didn’t want to go. “No.”

  Jackson’s eyes narrowed. “All you have to do is say the word and I’ll kill them.”

  “I know my limits.” Her chin rose. “If I want you to stop, I’ll let you know.”

  Luke crossed his arms, much like Mark. “How?”

  “I’ll say crackerjack.” She laughed, reminded of the little boxes of caramel-coated popcorn. As a child, she’d had so much of the sticky-sweet, candied corn, she’d gotten sick. Could she have too much of a good thing by letting all three of the Gray Wolf brothers touch her? Last time she’d been surrounded by men lusting after her, she’d been stripping for her rent money, unwilling to let her customers touch her. When she’d bought the bar, she’d sworn never to wear the mask, chaps and boots of her alter ego Kiki again.

  Never say never.

  There’s only room at the top for one person…at a time.

  Power Play

  © 2011 Mari Carr

  A Black & White Collection Story

  Back on American soil for the first time in nine months, Reed Donovan is ready to blow off some steam. The beauty he spots at the local bar not only catches his eye, she snags him by the balls when she announces she’s always fantasized about having sex with a stranger—a fantasy he is more than willing to help come true.

  Explosive fireworks over, Francesca rebuffs his invitation to dinner. While the sparks may fly between them physically, she doesn’t believe they could spend more than a few minutes in the same room without arguing. Her suspicions prove correct when Francesca reports for her new position the next morning—and discovers she’s been hired as Reed’s new marketing partner.

  When Reed and Francesca immediately begin butting heads about future pitches to prospective clients, Reed proposes a bet. For the next three presentations, they’ll both make a pitch. Whoever wins the campaign also wins a fantasy.

  The competition is fierce—and hot. And the hotter it gets, the closer they come to the brink of something they never intended…or expected.

  Warning: Wicked fantasies anyone? Up for some sex in public, sex with a stranger, sex in an office, sex in a bar, sex with a Dom, and bondage sex? Good. Strap in and hang on.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Power Play:

  Claiming the empty seat next to her, Reed waved the bartender over. “Hi Joe. I’ll have a Guinness, and get another glass of red for Francesca here.”

  She’d already been looking at him as he ordered, but when he mentioned her name he noticed the slightest narrowing of her eyes.

  “Do I know you?”

  He shook his head. “No. My cousin Carter owns this bar. He mentioned your name to me.”

  She digested that information as he studied her face. She was gorgeous. Now that they were in closer proximity, he was able to spot the slightest amount of her generous cleavage through her blouse.

  “Up here, babe,” she said pointing to her face, when his eyes lingered too far south for a second too long.

  He grinned at her joke. Oh yeah. She was everything his cousin described. Trouble in a thirty-four D cup. Good stuff.

  “So, your cousin suggested that you buy me a drink?”

  “No.” Reed pointed to where Vivi still sat behind her. “He told me to buy her a drink.”

  Francesca glanced over her shoulder. “Pretty girl. Did you miss your mark? Need me to draw you a map? Help you get over there?”

  “My sense of direction is just fine.”

  She rested her chin on her hand and, for the briefest moment, he wondered what the hell was going on in her mind. Then the bartender returned with their drinks and distracted her.

  She sighed heavily as she looked at the full glass of wine. “I really shouldn’t drink this. I’ve had two glasses already. I have a big day at work tomorrow and attempting it hungover isn’t a good strategy.”

  He grinned. She clearly wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t even sure he’d call her tipsy, but she was definitely enjoying the relaxing effects of the wine.

  “You strike me as the type who can handle her alcohol. And anything else that might come her way.” It was an obvious come on, but he didn’t care. There was something about her that screamed sex…and something else. Some elusive something he couldn’t put his finger on.

  He took a sip of his Guinness. The alcohol was working on smoothing his rough edges too. His neck wasn’t stiff anymore and he was feeling looser, freer from the stress of work.

  She leaned closer, her cheek still resting on her hand. “You know, I’ve always had this fantasy.”

  He moved toward her. Her voice was low, husky, sexy as fuck. “Oh yeah?”

  “Sex with a stranger.”

  Her words hit him like a punch in the stomach and his cock filled the maximum weight recommended for his pants in three seconds flat. There was no way he could adjust them without drawing her attention to his dilemma. Then he grinned and made the adjustment anyway.

  Her eyes followed the motion of his fingers.

  “Up here, babe,” he teased, mimicking her words.

  She laughed. “You’re really Carter’s cousin?”

  “Yep, I’m Re—”

  She cut him off quickly with a wave of her hand. “No. You tell me your name and we stop being strangers.”

  She had a point. And a set of knockers that had him feeling lightheaded.

  Taking a deep breath, he decided to go for broke. “Where do you wanna do this?”

  “Follow me.”

  She rose from her barstool. Reaching down, she picked up her briefcase. “Hey, Joe. Do you mind stowing this behind the bar for me for a few minutes?”

  Joe shook his head. “No prob.”

  She threw her small purse over her head and shoulder, the long strap crossing between her breasts, accentuating the perfection of her figure. She took one of his hands in hers and led him toward the back hallway. Passing by the restrooms, she stepped through the outside door the led to the dark alleyway. While it was empty at the moment, they both knew anyone could walk their way in a moment’s notice.

  Strangely, he liked that idea. He’d never considered himself an exhibitionist. Hell, he’d never taken a woman’s hand and let her lead him anywhere, yet he was following Francesca like a dog on a leash. The feeling, though uncomfortable, wasn’t unbearable. While she might have initiated the starting gate, he had no doubt he’d be driving by the time they crossed the finished line.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting something into his hand. “Put this on.”

  He looked down. She’d handed him a condom. He was equal parts horny and annoyed. Time for the tide to change.

  Stepping closer, he turned her as he walked, pushing her against the wall. “You put it on me,” he demanded.

  For the briefest moment he thought she was going to protest, but then she reached down and started tackling the button and zipper on his jeans.

  He reached up, pushed her jacke
t and purse off her shoulders, and cupped her breasts. They were full and firm. Perfect. Tweaking her nipples through the thin material of her silk blouse and her bra, he enjoyed the image of her eyes drifting closed, the acceleration of her breath and the slight flush covering her cheeks.

  “My pants,” he prodded, reminding her of her task.

  She opened her eyes and gave him a smirk he immediately distrusted. “Say please.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Take my cock out and put the condom on it, Francesca. Now.”

  Her hands stilled. “Beg me,” she taunted.

  He moved his hands from her breasts to the wall at her back, caging her in, letting her feel his height, his size. It was a power play, pure and simple. She needed to understand that while he let her instigate the game, he was taking over. “Pull up your skirt.”

  She shook her head. “One little word. That’s all you have to say. Say it. Say please.”

  He gritted his teeth. He’d never been denied, never bedded a woman who didn’t play by his rules. “I’m not going to say it. Now, lift your skirt.”

  “No.”

  Reed took a deep breath, tried to calm is ragged nerves. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “No. Have you?”

  Reed rested his forehead against hers and tried to catch his bearings. She was screwing with his head, messing with his needs. Fuck it.

  She reached up and let one button loose on her blouse, baring more of her gorgeous cleavage.

  No, he decided, fuck her.

  He reached down to the hem of her skirt and thrust it up, bunching the material at her waist. Yanking hard, he pulled her panties down as she resumed releasing him from his pants. Their actions were frantic, hungry and several times their hands bumped into each other in their rush to resume the fantasy.

  “I’m going to fuck you hard,” he warned. She’d pushed him too far. He’d been a loose electrical wire all night and she’d triggered the spark.

  “Do it,” she demanded. Her hand grasped his hard cock and he sucked in a pained breath. He’d never been this erect, this ready. Jesus. He’d never make it to her cunt if she kept touching him like that.