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Yeah, I couldn’t come up with a catchier countdown title. But does it matter? You know what happens on Wednesday. Another sexy little romp will appear on the Ellora’s Cave website, and my job for the next couple of days is to entice you into heading there as soon as the covers are refreshed to buy your copy!
Guess I should start with the persuadin’.
Why do I think you will love Dick and Jayne? Let me count the reasons:
1) Hot cop main hero
3) Sex in public
4) Sex Toy
5) Sex club shenanigans
6) A secondary couple you have to know more about—hellooooo, sequels!
7) Ménage a trois
But in case that wasn’t enough, take a peek inside the book…
He didn’t know the nightly peepshow was just a naughty invitation…
Garrett knows what he’s doing can get him into trouble, but he can’t help himself. Every night, as he arrives home, the blonde across the alley gets busy with her boyfriend with the blinds open. He’s spent the past two weeks getting an eyeful and falling deep into lust.
But when Garrett sees a man in a black ski mask sneak into his sexy neighbor’s bedroom, he doesn’t know he’ll be the one captured.
Jayne has a nice life with a nice lover who sees to her every need, but she’s still drawn to the lonely man across the alley. She’s been sharing her deepest fantasies with him from afar, but is ready to up the stakes. When she talks Richard into enacting a dangerous scenario, everything works out as planned. Only Garrett’s not happy about being played. And he’s got reservations because she already has a lover and he’s not into threesomes. Guess she’ll just have to convince him otherwise.
They were going at it again, and he was gonna get arrested. Which would be pretty damn embarrassing, considering he was cop.
Like clockwork, the couple across the alleyway started banging the minute his car pulled into the garage.
The street along the back of the parallel rows of one-story houses wasn’t much of a buffer. Driveways spoked off the narrow, paved road. Only twenty feet separated his garage from the bedroom window across the way.
Last night, he’d loosened the garage light bulb to make sure it didn’t give him away when the door slid up. Tonight, he flicked his car’s overhead lamp switch off so that the light wouldn’t beam the moment he exited. Carefully, he closed his car door, pushing it with his hip to muffle the click as it locked, walked around to the back then sat with his butt against the trunk to watch the show.
They had to know anyone walking by could see every damn thing—every drop of sweat, every short curl of pale blonde hair. She faced the window, clutching the bottom windowsill, her breasts bouncing every time Boyfriend slammed her ass.
God, her tits were Grade-A prime. Cherry nipples, topping creamy mounds.
Her blue eyes closed, her mouth rounded, and he knew when she came because she always wore the same expression—her cheeks growing rosy, her eyebrows drawing together tightly and the corners of her mouth curving like the cat that licked the cream.
And if the wind hadn’t been whistling through the alley, he would have heard the whimper she gave when Boyfriend milked the last little contraction of her orgasm.
Fuck. He needed his own woman. Maybe she had a twin. Because he sure as shit wouldn’t be satisfied with anyone who wasn’t her, Jayne Peabody—Jayne Hotbody as he’d begun to call her. He’d had her plates run so he’d have a name to assign the woman who’d played a starring role in all his fantasies this past couple of weeks.
They’d finished and Boyfriend was pulling her into his arms, wrapping them around her belly and cupping those beautiful breasts as she snuggled against his chest.
It was time to leave. The show was over for the night.
Then her eyes opened, and Garret Masters could have sworn she looked right at him. He cussed softly, straightened and raised his arm, pulling down the garage door and shutting off the sight of her mouth stretching into a wide grin.
* * * * *
This time he was ready. He popped the beer top, lifted his drink into the air to silently salute them, and decided to watch the goings on across the way like a spectator sport. He’d even devised a scoring system.
Ten points for the first orgasm. Five to fifteen for each successive multiple, depending on how hard Boyfriend had to work. But Jayne didn’t need much encouragement to slam quickly through three. All her partner had to do was angle her face toward the window and her eyelids drooped, her kitten smile curled.
Boyfriend turned her toward the bed, bent her over, and Garrett straightened because this wasn’t a view he’d had before. Her pretty white ass, sweetly curved, her dark pink sex framed between her closed thighs. Fuuuck!
Boyfriend walked out of sight then returned with leather straps.
Garrett swallowed down the beer and crushed the can in his fist.
Boyfriend bound her legs together and strapped her hands to the sides of her thighs, forcing her to remain bent. Then he tied a blindfold around her head.
Jayne’s bottom wriggled, but moisture shown on her sex, dribbled down the backs of her thighs. And that was before Boyfriend bent to pick up something from the floor.
When he straightened, he brandished a short riding crop.
“Fifty,” Garrett breathed, his stomach beginning to roil as he watched the other man swat her buttocks in quick succession, leaving reddened welts, which she apparently enjoyed by the loudness of her groans and whimpers. However, when he dropped the whip and turned her toward the window, tears streaked down her cheeks from beneath the blindfold.
Garret stiffened, ready to charge over there and break it up. But Boyfriend gripped her hips and forcefully slammed against her buttocks, thrusting deep. Her lips rounded, tears trickling into her mouth as she came.
Garret shuddered, his breaths coming quick, wondering what the fuck he was doing watching this, watching another man torture a woman into orgasm, his own body slamming toward a climax that shocked him with its ferocity.
Boyfriend removed the blindfold. Jayne’s eyes opened, gleaming through the darkness, seeming to pull him deeper into her twisted, kinky play.
This wasn’t for him. He’d never laid a hand on a woman and damn sure couldn’t stand by watching it. He couldn’t do this anymore. The sweet, funny tenor of the sessions had changed to something darker, something grim and decidedly too rich for his blood.
Before they’d finished, he slammed the door down between them.
* * * * *
“For the love of…”
He tried to keep his gaze averted this time, hadn’t bothered sneaking out of his car. But one glance and he was caught.
Boyfriend’s tall, lean body was turned sideways and he held his cock in his hand.
Jayne Hotbody stuck out her pink tongue and licked around the crown, and then clasped her mouth around it and sucked.
Boyfriend’s eyes closed tightly and he fisted himself, pumping as she bobbed forward to meet his fingers, then pulled away.
She braced a hand against his hip then turned to give Garret one of those kittenish smiles, her blue eyes seeming to plead for him to watch. Was this her way of apologizing?
Did her boyfriend even have a clue what she was doing?
Garret’s day had been a ball-buster and the last thing he’d wanted was to be left with an aching hard-on no amount of one-handed pocket pool could relieve, but she seemed to be inviting him to join. To watch as she blew boyfriend and teased the hell out of him.
Well, hell. He was tired of watching and being left aching. He opened his utility belt, unbuttoned his pants and eased down his zipper. When he drew out his cock, he stared down at himself, musing that this time he really would get arrested with his dick in his hand.