Naughty Ladies! Spicy Romance Collection

by Bree Branigan

  © Copyright 2018 by Bree Branigan- All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Naughty Ladies

  Contemporary Romance Collection

  Bree Branigan Books

  Table of Contents:

  Gimme Sugar

  Saucy Coquette

  Cake!

  Feeling Dirty

  Boss Me

  Annabelle’s Angst

  Ridden by a Harley

  Full Circle

  Naughty Barista

  Runaway Thirst

  Gimme Sugar

  CHAPTER 1

  Lisa sat opposite yet another date she’d met online, wondering how in the hell she had gotten herself into such a situation - yet again! She looked around the restaurant. Where is the waitress? Desperate, Lisa wished for her to reappear and finally clear their table after the appetizers she’d gulped down soon after realizing that her date’s online profile picture, like her own, was at least a decade younger than in real life.

  As the waitress arrived, Richard, her semi-retired date - whatever that means - made sure to get a good view of her perfect peach bottom in a not so subtle way. He was from the decade where it was acceptable to objectify any pretty girl walking by; one of those men who often said, “They can vote now, what more do these lesbian feminist gals want?”

  Lisa despised him and men like him. Men like Richard were the reason that she had remained a virgin all these years. And with her fortieth birthday only a few weeks away, she had become anxious. Who’d ever thought she’d be a forty-year-old virgin? Hence the internet dating.

  The waitress cleared their plates. “Can I get you guys another drink while you wait for your mains?”

  “No thank you,” said Lisa. “I’m still drinking mine.”

  “Well I’m not,” said Richard with a cheeky Jack Nicholson grin on his face. “I think I’ll have another beer and seeing as I’m not driving tonight, how about a shot of tequila to go with it?”

  “A man who likes to live on the edge,” said the waitress, “I like that in a man.”

  Christ he’s old enough to be your father. Scratch that. He’s old enough to be your grandfather, Lisa thought to herself as she watched Richard stroke his mustache and blatantly flirt with the twenty-something-year-old girl whose desperation for tips meant that she laughed at the end of every one of Richard’s sentences, even the non-jokes. Fuck this. I’m desperate but not this desperate. With that, Lisa stood up, grabbed her purse and made her dramatic exit without uttering a single word.

  Thank God she’d brought her own car! As she entered her brand new Lexus, she reached for her smart-phone and deleted every dating app that she had put on there in the past few months. Perhaps I’m just meant to die a lonely virgin she thought as she stabbed her finger on the ignition button and revved away into the black moonlit night towards the closest bar. I need a drink!

  Chapter 2

  Lisa walked across the wooden floor of the dingy old pub and made her way to the bar. Clearly, it was a dive, but it was open, she’d found parking, and now she was here. She felt the glares of the local patrons as she marched over to the only available seat. She was far too overdressed for her surroundings, but she didn’t care. As long as there was alcohol, the place was perfect.

  “Whiskey, neat” she said to the sour-faced barmaid as she hoisted herself onto the bar-stool. The barmaid nodded, picked up a glass and opened the bottle. Before she could pour Lisa interrupted, “Do you have a drinks menu or anything other than Jack Daniels?”

  “Look around your highness, where do you think that you are? This is a pub, not a fancy member’s only club. It’s JD or nothing I’m afraid.”

  Through gritted teeth Lisa said, “JD sounds perfect.”

  “Any ice?” said the barmaid.

  “No,” said Lisa, slightly irritated, “No ice, just neat.”

  “Neat?”

  “It means no ice.”

  “Oh right,” said the barmaid. “Why didn’t you just say that then? There’s no need to be fancy around here. Look around you. The only thing fancy about this place is you, and that’s not a compliment. That’s just to say that this place is an absolute shit hole.”

  “You don’t have to tell me that,” Lisa uttered under her breath.

  “Like everyman I ever fucked used to say,” said the barmaid, “if you lower your expectations love, you won’t be disappointed.”

  “Right,” said Lisa. “Thanks for the advice. Can I order a double please?”

  “Coming right up your highness.”

  The barmaid proceeded to pour the drink and placed it in front of Lisa. “That’ll be $4.75.”

  “Can I open a tab?” said Lisa.

  “Sorry, don’t do tabs. Not anymore.”

  “Do you take cards?”

  “Not unless you are spending more that ten bucks at a time.”

  “Okay. Is there a cash machine around here?” asked Lisa.

  “There’s one next to the slot machine by the door but it charges,” said the barmaid.

  “Of course it does,” said Lisa under her breath as she rose to her feet. “I’ll be back.”

  “So you still want the whiskey?” asked the barmaid.

  “Yes,” Lisa replied. “In fact, make it two double whiskeys and I’ll be back to pay for the drinks in two minutes.”

  LISA RETURNED TO THE bar to find that a handsome silver-fox in a leather smoking jacket and a thick Irish accent had taken her seat and had helped himself to one of her drinks.

  “I hope you don’t mind,” he said. “Whiskey happens to be my favourite. And, yes, I am the stereotypical Irishman.” He grinned, revealing boyish dimples. Despite his finely lined face and grey hair, he obviously still knew how to charm the fairer sex with his nonchalant attitude and boy-band smile.

  If Lisa wasn’t so attracted to both his looks and his cocky personality, she’d be offended. Instead she took a seat next to him at the bar and began to nurse the second glass of whiskey.

  “You owe me a drink,” she said as she sipped.

  “No,” said the Irishman. “I paid for these so I believe that you owe me a drink.”

  “It looks like I do," said Lisa, in the most seductive voice she could muster.

  “So, what’s a single girl like you doing in a place like this?” the Irishman asked.

  “What makes you think that I’m single?” She batted her eyes as she sipped on her drink once more.

  “No wedding ring. No light line on your finger. So you are not recently divorced.” He looked her up and down, like a cop would a potential suspect.

  Lisa liked this. In fact, she liked it more that she thought she would. In both life and love she had always been the dominant one, always the one in control but as she got older, wiser, richer, all she wanted was for a man to take control. Could he be the one to take her to places that she had never been?

  “If I had to guess,” he continued, “I’d say, judging by the fancy clothes, the fact that you don’t often go places with minimum card payment and, of course, that great set of wheels outside... I’d say that you were one of those career women who spent her twenties and thirties building a great career.” He downed his drink and signaled the barmaid for another.

  When he could see that his signal had been noted, he turned back to Lisa. His eyes crinkled, smi
ling. “If I had to guess, I’d say you work with money, lots of it, and it’s your job to spend it. Life’s been good, but now you’re worried that love has passed you by.”

  The barmaid placed another double in front of the Irishman. “I’ll put this one on your tab,” she said before giving Lisa a look that said, “We look after our own around here. We don’t like outsiders.”

  “So,” said the Irishman, winking, “Am I right, close, or completely off?”

  Lisa smiled, “Pretty close, actually. I’m a movie producer. Well, I was. I’m taking a bit of a break now to figure out -you know- who I am outside of work.”

  “I get it,” said the Irishman, “it’s not easy being a woman. Choices you have to make, having to put one life on hold for another and vice versa. No your sex does not have it easy at all.”

  “What are you? Some kind of angel who can read minds? Or are you the perfect gentleman?” she inquired.

  He laughed. “I must say I’ve never been called an angel, and it’s been a while since the world ‘gentleman’ was used to describe me.”

  Lisa smiled.

  “But I used to be a cop,” he said.

  “Really?” So it’s true! Cops really CAN read people well.

  “Yeah, back in Ireland. And I understand what’s it’s like to be a career woman. You always have to choose. And then hope that you made the right choice. And it doesn’t matter if you did or didn’t. All that matters is that you have to live with it.”

  Lisa smiled once more. True!

  “But come on,” he said, “there’s no way many men haven’t tried and failed to lock you down.”

  “How about another drink?” she asked.

  With that, he signaled the barmaid once more.

  “I came close once when I was in my twenties - and before you say anything, a lady never tells her age. His name was Ron. We even picked a date, but a week or so before the wedding, I decided that I loved my career and who I wanted to be more than I loved him.”

  “And now?” he inquired.

  “Now what?”

  “How’d you feel now?”

  “I feel like... I feel really horny.”

  The Irishman choked a little on his drink as Lisa uttered those beautiful words. But he quickly recovered his charm. “Well I’m sure that we can do something about that.”

  LISA PULLED HIM INTO the dingy toilet cubicle, locked the door behind her and began to passionately kiss him. Soon his hands reached down to the small of her back, landing perfectly -like a pilot on a runway- on her ass.

  Soon she broke away from the kiss as she turned around, finally handing over all control to him. He slowly reached his hands down her pants as he kissed her neck, slowly at first than more and more aggressively, in tune with her increasing moaning.

  This is it, she thought. It’s finally going to happen. His hands slipped into her sheer silk underwear. She could feel his fingers dancing down over her clit. Her breath grew heavier, thicker, and hungrier with excitement from his firm yet soothing touch. With his other hand, he began to gently caress her breasts through her shirt. She felt herself letting go for a moment of sheer bliss. But who is he? She tried to ignore the anxiety that was creeping into her mind.

  Both his hands were now on her hips, and in a determined move they slipped her pants down. In another move he turned her ass towards himself. She took support from the wall as she felt his hands fondling her breasts, then her ass. She wondered if she was wet. Probably. It’s not how she’d imagined this would go down, but then this was new territory. She had never really known what to expect.

  Out of the corner of her eye she saw pants falling to the floor. As he pressed himself towards her, kissing her neck, she found herself biting her lips in anticipation. This was it, there’s no going back now, she thought. It wasn’t the way she’d dreamed it would be, but in this moment she realized how much she wanted it. There was that small grain of anxiety left, but she placed that in the back of her mind and felt herself spreading her legs for him. He was guiding his dick to her happy place, missing at first, stroking up against her inner thighs. His dick felt hot against her thighs. She wanted to feel him inside her.

  Too high now he pushed up against her rectum.

  “Oh...” she screamed in pleasure and agony as she felt herself closing up a bit. She looked over her shoulder.

  He leaned forward and kissed her. “Sorry” he said. She could feel his dick sliding over her pussy. She was spreading her legs further still now, trembling. But he wasn’t sliding inside her. He was fumbling. Suddenly his hot dick was pressing against her anus instead and with a jerk she involuntary closed her legs a bit. Was something wrong? Was she not wet enough? Was he drunk? He was still fumbling, not getting anywhere. She decided to turn around and face him instead.

  Placing one foot on the toilet to make it easy for him to enter, she pulled him towards her. Up close against her now, they kissed, hard, their tongues dancing. He pressed his dick against her pussy. Still not sliding in. At this point she started to feel anxious again. This is not working out. Maybe I should start with a blowjob, she thought

  As she got on her knees to pleasure his long, thick cock with her juicy warm mouth, regret and shame suddenly washed all over her. What the hell am I doing here? she wondered.

  “I’m sorry...” she said. “This is not quite.... This isn’t quite working for me.” Claustrophobia crept up on her in the dingy little stall. Suddenly she felt vulnerable. Yes, she had wanted this, but not like this. It hadn’t been at all like she’d imagined.

  Suddenly she was overcome with smell of the place, and of the sweat of the man. She wanted to gag. She had to get out. Forcefully, she pushed him away, yanked up her pants, threw open the door and rushed out. She didn’t look back.

  “Hey, babes... where you going?” he called after her.

  As she raced through the door, two men came in. They quit their drunken banter and stared at her. As she pushed her way past them she felt herself blushing, on the brink of tears. She had to get out of there.

  Chapter 3

  According to match.com, Freddy was Lisa’s perfect man. But after only a few minutes into dinner, Lisa realized that maybe the algorithms were a little off. Still, with her birthday only a week away, she was becoming desperate, and at least this time she was on a date with someone whose profile picture didn’t lie. He was absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous. Totally out of my league, she thought as she sipped her glass of wine.

  He had dreamy chestnut eyes, movie star dimples, slicked-back dark hair, topped up like garnish on a plate with a two-day-old stubble. Lisa couldn’t keep her eyes off of him; which in her book was a good start. If only the conversation would get a little more interesting, she thought.

  After discussing the events from the pub with the Irishman with her therapist, Lisa was not making out in any more scungy bathrooms, she decided. He had suggested that the vagina, like most women, have feelings and needs that need to be met before penetration. In Lisa’s case, he suggested that perhaps because she was uncomfortable with the situation in the pub toilet her vagina felt uncomfortable too, and closed up without much warning. Just closed for business abruptly.

  Like all her Internet dates, Freddy had picked a fancy restaurant for their first face-to-face encounter. “At least he has good taste in restaurants,” she thought taking another sip of wine.

  “So you are a movie producer,” he said. “That’s different.”

  “Yeah I guess,” she replied, “I guess it’s different. It feels almost old. I’ve been in the industry for as long as I can remember.”

  “The Industry,” he repeated. “Is that what you movie folk call it?”

  “No,” said Lisa, “we just call it work.”

  Movie folk? Who says that? She thought as she sipped on her wine once more, wishing the she had agreed to the bottle that the waiter recommended instead of just the glass. It was clear that she would need a lot more wine in order to find Freddy mentally stimul
ating and attractive.

  According to her therapist, try as she might, she wasn’t the kind of woman to just have a one-night-stand. At least not until she lost her virginity and the pressure was finally well and truly gone. Which would explain why she’d had countless sexual encounters over the years, but had never actually managed to seal the deal.

  Back when she’d started internet dating, she’d tell her dates about her virginity problem and how she was eager to get rid of it before she turned a certain age. “A lady never reveals her age” she’d say. To which they would respond by freaking out and finding an excuse to get the hell out of there. This had confused Lisa. Were they leaving because they didn’t want to disappoint? If so, it made no sense, as she had no point of reference.

  Others would respond with something like, “After the things that I’m going to do to you tonight I don’t think that you’ll be able to call yourself a lady.”

  This line always got to Lisa. She soon realized that the moment you tell a man that he could potentially be your first, he either becomes too eager or is completely alarmed by the idea. I wonder if they would freak out if my twenty-year-old virgin self sat in front of them instead, she’d often ponder when they dashed for the exit. Any exit.

  Still Lisa was desperate to save this date. Time was running out and probability was saying that Freddy would likely be her lucky man. Her birthday was only days away, giving her a full week to get to know him before the deed could be done.

  “So your profile said that you were an entrepreneur,” she said, changing the subject for the sake of their date and her sexual future. Lisa had decided that once her birthday had come and gone, if she was still chaste, she’d become a nun or something. Then a sexless existence wouldn’t be viewed as strange for someone of her age.

  “Yeah,” he replied, “I’m an entrepreneur.”

  God I hate that, Lisa thought. Why can’t he answer a question with detail? Is he a socially ignorant or just a pretty idiot? Lisa found herself leaning towards the latter.