To celebrate the release of my first book of poetry (yes it’s finally here tomorrow, 6/20, YAY!), Erotic Edibles Vol I: Poetry inspired by the Erotic Romance Novella Series: Give & Receive, I thought I would post another poem I wrote while writing the novella series. This poem has a special meaning because along with Give & Receive, it’s also one of the first that was eventually made into a song and added to the novella soundtrack.

If I had to fit it in a timeline in regards to the novella, Lena would have written this during the five years Danny was married to Elizabeth. It speaks of love, lust, obsessive fixation, envy, coveting thy neighbor’s husband and definitely of more than just a little crazy, hence the name, Lust & Lunacy. Hell, you could flip this and it be totally about Ty’s fixation on Lena. Take your pick, lol.

And of course, admitting you have these emotions for someone else doesn’t exactly take the lust or need away, does it? Doesn’t it only makes things worse, and make you even nuttier than a fucking fruit cake for feeling all this shit? How’s that for covering all the bases of the seven deadly sins? Comes awful close, eh? People say admitting you have a problem is the first step. Um. Yeah…no. Don’t believe the hype, lol. It only makes you more aware of how fucked up you truly are. Trust me…I know.

So my question today is, has there ever been anyone who made you feel this way? Ever read about two (or three, lol) characters who have the same type of crazy connection, probably nowhere near healthy, needy, obsessive and just madder than a fucking hatter? Does anyone love Alice in Wonderland like I do? Thoughts? Ps- As an added treat (i hope) I’ve included the link to the original song from Give & Receive official soundtrack. Please, enjoy the poem…and the song! *grins*

Lust & Lunacy

I’m crying
But it’s a dirty, filthy, mean, no good cry
Cuz you’re with her…and not with me.
It’s hell times three.

I’m crying
But it’s cuz I want to touch me.
But I want you to touch me too.
And it’s so much better with we two.

Tell me the reason
It’s not time to go.
Darkness of the midnight hour is close at hand
And I want to feel your hand.

I’m longing.
But it’s the longing of the real.
Wanting you and not wanting so much being alone.
And watching a me and you film reel.

I’m so…hot for you, I guess.
Did you like how I said that?
Let me continue, I know I digress.
I’m lonely and I look at wine of reddened tint.

(Wanting to drink with you of the wine)
Ready to be embedded…Get the hint?

Don’t you want to sleep with me, my love?
Don’t you want this heaven from above?
It’s what you need, but so afraid…so afraid, are you.
I won’t bite…unless you ask me to.

Don’t you see it’s nice to be so
dirty and sexy and sweet and lowdown
and on the ground, when no one is around
but you and me?
Let me set you free…

Let me take you high…
Let me make you beg until you cry (can you cry for me?)
Let me open and guide you in (just come inside)
Let me show you how fun it is to sin

Can’t she just let me borrow you
For a little while?
I promise, if she lets you come…
Over to play, I won’t ever give you away
And I’ll keep you, locked here, in my room and

I’ll feed you cookies and
canned potato soup.
It will be enough for us.
We won’t have time for napkins and fuss
And utensils.
Hmmm…Maybe we can use the utensils.

I’ll lick some parts of you…slowly, if you want.
And I’ll let you stick some parts of you
In me.
But it can only be for forever.
Don’t be greedy…

Please won’t you stay?
And never go away
Just dance a little fuck dance with me.
You’ll have so much fun with what you see.
Scouts honor, the ties will not be severed.
I’ll give you back.
The Sunday after never.

copyright 2013 alisa Anderson

Give & Take – An Erotic Romance Novella
Book II – Give & Receive series

What would you risk, to get what you wanted?

For Ty, Lena and Danny, they’re about to find out as they cross the boundaries from all things safe to an arena that will test love, friendship and loyalty. An arena that’s forbidden, taboo…and oh so tempting. In their world sex, money and excess are all a game of give & receive, were any wish can be granted if you just ask…

Lena Blake: Life was supposed to have gone back to normal. After all…It’s been months since that night at Sadist. Months of reliving, remembering, experiencing…each moment. Over and over again. Oh yeah, she remembered. Every. Vivid. Illicit. Detail. Like it was yesterday.  What she did. Who she did it with.​ Her best friend. And Danny…the one who had carved out her heart years ago. There to witness it all. An act so public, so voyeuristic, so forbidden, she was still feeling the intensity between them all. The lines were crossed now.  There was no going back. Not even if she wanted to.

If she were honest she would admit she didn’t…

Tyler Malone: I knew I risked a lot doing what I did. I risked my friendship, with the one person I trusted and loved most of all, even if she can’t…or won’t see it. I played a dangerous game with Blake, too, but he either needs to step up…or step back.  I put everything on the line for just one night. And hell yeah, it was worth it. She’s worth everything. I love her just as much as he does, maybe more, since I accept everything about her, even her love for him. Life is all about the chances you take. To succeed you have to gamble. Play big…or go home. And I play to win. At all costs…

Danny Blake: Seeing her that night with Ty, watching her come undone, made me realize for the first time the life I could have. I saw her. Really saw her, body and soul, and I know now, the ache for her never truly went away. It only intensified over the years, with a need bordering on obsession. My one addiction I could never get clean of. I need her like air.

In the high stakes game of give & take, you have to risk everything.

Winner takes all…and to the victor goes the spoils.

Book II of the Erotic Romance Novella Series, Give & Receive.

“Come with me, Lena.”

“No.” Yet her fingers continued moving, unhurried and restrained as she fought for control.

“Your mouth is so warm…so wet. Take it all, baby…suck it. Just like that. I’m spilling pre-come all over my hands, Lena. It’s all for you. I wish you were here to lick it off. Why are you fighting this?”

“I’m not listening.” Her breath caught, and her fingers still continued to have a mind of their own as they slid in between the walls of her pussy, caressing her clit, sliding over the slick folds.

Traitorous sluts, her fingers. Every blasted one of the little monsters.

Couldn’t trust them worth a damn. They did whatever they wanted.

“Yes, you are. And you’re getting yourself wet with the thought of me pushing my cock into your mouth. Sucking it off for me. Tasting my come. Knowing you’re responsible for getting me this way. You’re enjoying the control and you should, love. I know from experience. It’s a heady trip, isn’t it?”

He heard her breathing increase in pace over the phone.

“Would it be so wrong to admit, just this once, I turn you on? That this, whatever it is, gets you off?” Ty’s voice strained as he struggled to manage his emotions. If he could wait just a little bit longer, he knew it would be big. He knew she was ready to break soon. He wanted to be there with her. Every step of the way.

“Fine. You turn me on. This. Turns me on. Ridiculously. Satisfied?” Lena felt her nipples harden through her shirt and she had to feel them under her palm. She twisted her left nipple, painfully, maliciously and she whimpered out loud. Not enough. Like an itch she couldn’t scratch, her fingers, her hands…weren’t enough.

She needed him.

“Tell me what you taste like. Tell me now.” Her voice was low…sexy personified, deep, as she pinched her clit and shivered at the light sting.

“Salty…sweet, slightly bitter. Just like you said. How did you know?”

Lena gave a dark, husky laugh full of promise. It made his balls draw up and tighten as his cock continued to pulse and throb under his tutelage.

“I’m just that good.”

“Modest too.”

She had to take a breath before she answered. Liquid heat ran down her thighs as she caught another breath before answering.

“Oh come now, love. Modesty is for people who can’t deliver the goods. And we both know that’s not true, don’t we?” She savored the exquisite torture of her fingers, now thoroughly wet and buried deep inside her pussy.

“It’s too bad you’re not here with me, Ty.” Lena’s voice became breathy as she stroked her clit with increased rhythm. She was wild with need now, beyond caring about anything but how she felt, how gloriously, amazingly wanton she felt.

“Do you know what I would do if you were? I would straddle you between my breasts. Sliding that big, thick cock up and down, getting slick with all that come. Lapping up every bit of spill from your thighs and your chest. Making my nipples slippery with your come. Rubbing myself all over you. And then…are you still with me, gorgeous? I would sink down on top of that hard stick of yours and take you inside. I’m so tight, Ty. Can you feel how tight I am?”

“Sweet fuck you are tight. It’s like I almost can’t fit.”

“I’ve done my pussy push-ups, Ty. So glad you noticed.”

“Pussy push-ups? Oh god. I can’t. Ahahaha…Please stop.” Ty’s laughter sounded gravelly and painful as he struggled not to pass out. Only she could make him laugh at the same time he wanted to fuck her into oblivion. She would find every live wire on him triggered to detonate at her slightest touch. She really would be that fucking good.

Damn her infuriating ass, straight to hell. She thought she had this all under control, didn’t she?

Clearly he needed to shake some things up again.

Ty managed to zip up his pants and grinned to himself, opening the car door and glancing around, making sure no one saw him running up the steps to her front door. He grabbed the spare, unlocking her front door and letting himself in.

She started stroking herself, faster, harder, pinching her clit just a little, her breathing ragged. “Oh shit…” Lena murmured, and began to pant. “Get me off, Ty. I need you.”

She didn’t even hear him approach. “I would be glad to.”

Lena screamed out loud.

Available NOW…Buy books I & II together and save: Buy at Amazon

Get the soundtrack at Amazon

 
Bio:

(transposed to the third person to appear more mature *grins cheerfully*)
well…alisa did stuff and is still doing stuff. only now she has two boys crazy enuff to want her as their mommy. hey, at least she tried to warn them, so her job is done. she doesn’t like to capitalize, partially because she likes how lower case letters look visually, but mostly out of laziness. please don’t judge. it could be you. and she would say, hey. you’re alright, buddy. you’re ok in my book. now c’mere for a hug. the hug might be pushing it. air kiss? you are strangers, after all, with only a mutual love of poor grammar.

she lives for a world full of controllable anatomically correct, android men programmed to meet her specific feminine needs (wink, wink, nudge, nudge with a big waggle of the eyebrows). who look like the rock. and ian somerhalder. and idris elba. and that’s it she promises. variety. gotta have variety, right?

but alas…apparently that exists only in johanna lindsey’s genius mind. so until then, she enjoys her incredibly warped sense of humor. she reads tons of erotica and romantic, drippy goo that makes her heart go pitter patter. then she thought, hey. what, she said to herself. (softly, of course, so no one finds out she is indeed, 2 nuts short of a fruitcake) maybe you should write this stuff too. maybe someone will like it and maybe buy it. so she said, huh, you think? then she said, well…yeah, i wouldn’t have suggested it…(inserts sarcastic tone) and then she was like lose the attitude, ok? then she was all, would you just shut up and write, already? sheesh! and she did.

Alisa Anderson

http://www.amazon.com/Give-Receive-Romance-Novella-ebook/dp/B00D0SVYIG
http://www.houseofalisa.com
http://www.amazon.com/Alisa-Anderson/e/B009IEA6A8
http://www.alisaanderson.wordpress.com
http://www.facebook.com/AlisaAndersonBooks
https://twitter.com/bitchesbewritin 

* * * * *

I’m so excited! Two releases are happening today! For those of you following the countdown, I’ll post the name of the gift certificate winner tonight! But for now…

Twice the Bang is here!

If you want to read an excerpt, check out yesterday’s blog, otherwise, you can buy it at Samhain or Amazon and all the usual places you buy your ebooks! After you read it, I would greatly appreciate you leaving a review on one of those sites to let other readers know about your experience. Readers like seeing what other folks have to say before making their buying decisions, so your opinion is important!

Meet Juste Henry Boucher of Crescent Moon!

The second installment releases today! I’m incredibly excited to see what you think of my hero. He’s got his own issues and meeting Khepri only complicates his life. Again, after you’ve read it, I’d love for you to leave a review. And if you’d help spread the word to your online friends, you’d be doing me a huge favor. This book is the story that will keep on giving. Pay for it once, and you get a new episode every two weeks!

If you haven’t already purchased the book, here’s the link: Crescent Moon

TWICE the Bang!

Just one more day! Sometime after midnight tonight, Twice the Bang will release! I can’t wait to hear what you think! But if you haven’t read any of the books in the series all you have to do is read through the excerpts. They are a very good hint of what’s to come! I think you’ll get the picture. Sexy, naughty stories—a dirty girl’s favorite fantasies… That’s what Delta Heat’s all about. I have just one book left to write in the series—Mondo’s happy-ever-after. I’m not sure what he needs. I’ll have to give it a little thought. Maybe you have some suggestions…?

In the meantime, I’ll go through today and start picking winners for the first three days of the countdown. There’s still time if you don’t see notes at the top of those blogs naming winners! Here’s the rules…

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate. (Obviously today, there is no prequel book to give away, so I’ll offer any of the first three books to today’s lucky winner.)

Who says it’s better to share your toys?

Beau McIntyre has had his eye on Pansy Patton for a while. But after their friends’ coming out party—where Pansy wears nothing but a sexy smile—Beau isn’t the only one jockeying for the best view of her pretty backside. Realizing it was a mistake to opt for a drawn-out seduction, Beau plans on staking his claim.

Billy Sorenson knows he’s out of his league with a submissive like Pansy, but it was lust at first sight. Now he’ll do whatever it takes to have her, even if he has to be penciled into her schedule for equal time.

A smoking-hot firefighter with ice-blue eyes, or a mysterious cop…what’s a girl to do? Pansy has the answer: refuse to choose and savor the consequences of both men pursuing her.

Doe she expect her lovers to play fair? Oh, no. She’s hoping they’ll play dirty. Real dirty…

Warning: Contains m/f/m and f/f/m scenes, paintball and other sexy ball games, flogging, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING UNLESS YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18!!

Billy’s fists curled at his sides. What the hell? He knew this was a posture subs took to signal their willingness to obey, but he was no Dom. Not some poser who needed a woman to call him Sir in order to get a hard-on.

He’d seen how Aiden treated Jenn that once in the gym of the firehouse. He’d winced as he’d called her a slut, felt shame for the arousal her tearfully rendered obedience had coaxed.

The last thing he wanted was to lay a harsh hand on Pansy’s pretty, creamy skin. He didn’t want her crying, didn’t want anything but moans and maybe a scream, but he’d never get her there if he didn’t play first. He wasn’t sure he had what it took.

Something that didn’t seem to concern his cock because it surged inside his pants, crowding his fly. “I’m not a Dom, Pansy.”

“No, you aren’t. I could see that at Aiden’s.” But she didn’t rise, didn’t lift her head.

“I’m not sure I can give you what you need…”

“Just tell me what you want,” she whispered. “Anything. I’ll do it.”

Billy wanted so many things, but the first thing that popped into his mind, perhaps because her tongue stroked her bottom lip right that second, was her lush, plump mouth consuming his cock.

Swallowing to wet his dry throat, he took a deep breath and then reached down to tip up her chin.

Looking at her reinforced his impression of her fragility. Pansy was small, something he forgot because of her brazen demeanor and the saucy tilt of her chin. Her pretty blue eyes were large in a face that was shaped like a triangle—wide cheeks, a small pointed chin. Her plump, wide mouth was large in comparison, and his gaze stopped there.

“Pansy, I want…”

Her eyes glittered, gaze locking with his. “Anything, Billy…”

“I want your mouth on me,” he growled.

She offered him a smile and then rose on her knees to come closer. Reaching for his belt, she made quick work of the latch of his belt and the button at his waist, but she stopped to glance upward as she gripped the tongue of the zipper and slowly slid it down.

He stared hard, fixated on her hands.

Rather than reaching immediately inside his pants, she gripped the waistband and pulled them down his hips to his thighs, baring his cock and his balls completely.

He’d seen the way Aiden seemed able to control his arousal, keeping his cock lax until he had his subs where he wanted them.

But Billy had no such self-control. His intense interest was there for Pansy to see. Fully erect, straining toward his belly. The skin was stretched so tight around his cock he felt ready to burst. And his balls, Jesus, if she touched them now…

Pansy raked her fingernails up his thighs, causing his cock to jump in anticipation of a painful scratch. She laughed softly then leaned closer, rubbing her cheek on his shaft, turning her head to glide her mouth on him—sexy to watch but not nearly enough action. She was moving alarmingly slowly. He didn’t think he’d have the self-control to keep from striping her face with his come. All it would take was one stroke of her wet tongue.

Billy growled and thrust his fingers into her short, pale hair. He tilted her head, just so, then gripped his cock and fed himself into her mouth. “No more playing,” he said. “Suck it.”

She gave a garbled moan but began suctioning, her teeth and tongue raking his sensitive flesh as he fed more and more of his thick cock into her pretty, hot mouth.

When her lips met his fingers, he clamped both hands around her head and held her still as he took charge, fucking her mouth, pushing inside and withdrawing, then pushing a little deeper, making sure she understood she’d be taking every damn inch. She’d teased him past any scruples he’d had about moving too fast and too hard for her.

Pansy wanted a man to call the shots. Well, she’d be licking up every drop of his.

Not that she didn’t seem completely into it as her eyelids drifted dreamily up and down and her mouth suctioned harder and harder all around him. When he butted up against the back of her throat, she swallowed and then eased open her jaws and took him all the way inside.

He’d never had a woman deep-throat him, and now he understood the attraction as he stroked in steady plunges. Her throat squeezed around his corona, rubbing the ridge forward and back, and fuck if he could wait a minute longer.

He pulled free and wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock, tightening and holding still until the urge to shoot receded.

Pansy’s hands were still on his thighs. Her gaze was locked on the length of him, red and jutting, wet from her saliva. She dropped her hands, turned on her knees and crept away, her bottom swaying side-to-side. When she halted, she tipped up her ass then glanced over one shoulder, meeting his gaze with another of her sassy looks, one brow raised.

And Lord, her pussy was right there for him to see. Red, swollen, slick with her juices. All his, if he could make his feet work and his body not betray him by ejaculating before he managed to get a condom rolled down his length.

Beau leaned back against the cool door. “Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?”

“I think I do. You were all the way down my throat,” she said, her voice a soft, hoarse purr.

“I’m not a kid. I don’t come in my pants, but fuck, Pansy…” He ringed himself tighter and shut his eyes, because her bottom was a round, juicy peach, the sides split open to show him exactly what was his to take.

At last, he let go, calling on his pride. With slow movements, he toed off his boots and socks and stepped out of his pants, but not before removing the condom packet tucked into a pocket. Tearing the plastic with his teeth, he didn’t take his gaze from her avid stare, rolling the condom down his shaft. Then he knelt and crawled to her, knuckles sinking in the brown carpet.

Her knees spread. Her back sank. Her feminine openings beckoned, and he sat back on his haunches to fill his hands with the lush bounty of her ass. His fingers sank in softness and he rotated the globes.

Her chest fell to the carpet, and she moved side-to-side, likely rubbing her nipples on the short shag. Nipples he wanted in his mouth, between his teeth, but he wasn’t letting go of her. Wouldn’t turn her now.

Bending, he bit one globe then the other. Then buried his nose and mouth in her moist folds, inhaling because her musk lured him. He breathed her sea-fresh scent in then sucked at her folds, tasting and groaning because the tangy flavor of her made his cock pulse. Thumbing open her folds, he licked at the moisture seeping from inside her, trailed the edges of her delicate inner lips and swirled inside her entrance. He watched as she snuck a hand between her legs and pulled at her folds to expose her clit. He took her hint and tapped it with his tongue, then swirled on the hardening knot until she groaned and her thighs trembled.

Sure she was nearly as crazy with lust as he was, he backed away, his hands cupping her ass again, holding her still as he nudged his cock against her slit, and then sank an inch inside, just enough that she took the broad cap.

Her pussy clasped around him, making a moist, sucking sound, and he nearly smiled because the sensation wasn’t so different from the first moment he’d pushed inside her mouth.

Billy glided one hand around her hip and spread his fingers to cup her taut lower belly, while he slowly pushed deeper into her channel.

Fluid seeped around him, inner muscles clenched and rippled. He pressed on her tummy and her pussy tightened, clamping down on him.

“Please, Billy. Please,” she whispered, swaying again, rubbing those pretty tits against his carpet to build friction.

Friction he was about to double as he began to move inside her, flexing his buttocks to push forward, withdrawing slowly until just the tip of his cock remained at her entrance. He continued the slow push and pull until her hands reached out and bunched in the carpet, and her ass pushed back to take him deeper.

“Want it harder?” he growled.

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Want it fast?”

“Please, please, please,” she said, squealing at the last word as he tunneled hard inside and began to glide in faster strokes, in and out.

She was wet, her channel fully juiced and hot through the latex. He churned in her moist heat, jerking his hips to surprise her with quick, hard stabs, and then changed it up to offer smoother thrusts.

She loved it all, pumping her hips, the muscles of her arms and shoulders bunching as she shoved backward to meet his strokes.

Billy loved watching her narrow back, the indent of her spine, the jiggle of her buttocks as he hammered her.

For this moment, all her lush feminine frame was fully his—to use, to forget himself inside. So much better than his own fist. She gave him as good as he gave her but with surprises that kept him thinking.

Like the sexy clasps her pussy gave him, not rhythmic at all. Purposeful clenching that slowed him up because he wanted to savor the sensation, and then easing off so he could redouble his efforts. She made soft grunting sounds as she squeezed and she moaned as she relaxed. Not like anything he’d ever experienced with another woman. Almost like she was exercising her inner muscles.

But he didn’t like the fact she thought she could control the speed of his thrusts with her sexy inner workout. He wanted her desperate and unable to do any thinking at all.

He halted his motions and pulled out halfway.

She squeezed around him and then pushed up to glare over her shoulder, a question in her narrowed eyes.

Billy smiled, lifted a hand and smacked one side of her soft ass. Not hard, because he didn’t want to leave a mark, he just wanted her attention.

Her mouth opened around a sharp gasp. “Billy?”

A Perfect TRIfecta!

We’re already at the third book in this series. And what a sequel it is. I get more reader mail for this one than the others. Truth be told, this story worried me because it was all about the sex. I told my loopies before it released that the book’s a total fuckfest. Guess y’all like nasty, nonstop passion.

Here’s the commercial again—that is, what the contest is all about. Stick around for tomorrow when I’ll share a scene from TWICE THE BANG. And remember, it’s ready for pre-order now! Here’s the link: Twice the Bang

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate.

Playing with pain can put you in a world of hurt…or bliss.

Playing switch in front of a La Forge BDSM club audience was supposed to be a one-time fling. A favor for a friend. Instead, when Craig Eason realizes he’s caught the attention of an enigmatic, powerful Dom across the crowded room, he senses this could be the man he’s been looking for to test the boundaries of his own sexuality.

Firefighter Aiden Byrne is a very private man with strong S&M longings he keeps in check for everyone else’s safety. His sub, Jennifer Callum, thinks she likes it rough, but he can’t let go the way he’d like to. Until one defiant stare from the handsome cop on the La Forge stage causes Aiden’s most dangerous needs to uncoil from the deepest, darkest part of his soul.

With the blessing—and active involvement—of his sub, a seduction is set in motion that ends in a scene that shakes them all to the core…

Product Warnings: Contains a powerful, burly firefighter who plans to take everything a hot cop thinks he knows about himself and send it up in smoke. Please replace the batteries in all your smoke detectors before reading this book. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/m, spanking, flogging, restraints, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING UNLESS YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18!!

Craig hadn’t known he needed that reassurance until it was given. Be free. It sounded so simple. He’d explore what was here. Figure it out as they went forward. Or not. Everything depended on what lay in store for him inside the private room.

He rapped his knuckles against the door. It opened. Jenn stood in the doorframe completely nude. Her body gleamed with oil. Her skin was flushed pink and her eyes were lazily roaming his body. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He’d considered stripping in the changing room and entering the salon naked, but hadn’t wanted to be waylaid by anyone looking for a player. Not tonight. So he was still in his jeans and tee. “I came straight here,” he said, not looking beyond her happy smile to see if Aiden was in the room.

She stepped back and gave a wave of her hand. “I’m already prepped. Had a massage. Aiden likes to arrive after everyone’s ready.” She glanced up to the camera in the corner and gave a little wave.

So Aiden was watching. Without him even in the room, Craig tensed. “Did he leave instructions?”

“I’m to get you ready. Lube you up,” she said, biting her bottom lip to hold back her smile. “If you have no objections.”

“It’s not my place to object,” he said softly. He strode past her, shut the door, then stood still while she began to strip him, bending first to remove his sneakers and socks, then kneeling to unbuckle his belt and slide it free.

When she unbuttoned his denims, she glanced up and gave him a quick smile. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before—“

“Or blown it,” he muttered.

She arched a brow. “But it does feel different, doesn’t it?”

He swallowed hard as she lifted his cock out of his pants. She opened her mouth and gobbled him down while at the same time reaching blindly to shove his trousers off his hips.

She had orders. She was to blow him, get him hard, but was she going to finish him so he’d have greater stamina the second time around, or just tease him? Another thought flitted through his mind. Did Aiden like what he could see of his cock?

Jenn worked his pants down to his ankles while she continued to tug his penis into full erection. Her hot, wet mouth consumed him, sucking hard, dragging backward as his cock quickly filled.

He stepped out of his pants, then raised his shirt and flung it out of reach. He dug his fingers deep into her hair. “Be free”, Mondo had advised. Well, right now, his first impulse was to give Jenn a little domination. Although she was every bit as adept at playing switch as he was, she was at heart a needy sub. He knew this well. Sinking his fingers into her silky black hair, he raked his nails against her scalp.

She moaned around him, angling her head side to side like a cat looking to have every inch of her scalp scratched. He dug in his nails, giving her a vigorous scoring while he began to rock forward and back, fucking her lush mouth.

Jenn Callum was beautiful woman, as pretty as any he’d ever been with. The sight of her on her knees, servicing him, her mouth growing swollen and red while he shafted her, fed the primal male inside him. He clamped his hands around her head to hold her still and stroked deep, forcing her to ease the constriction at the back of her throat and let him deepen his thrusts.

Conscious of the camera, he threw back his head and closed his eyes, willing Aiden to watch. Hoping Aiden would be drawn to halt him, but at the same time wanting to blow his wad inside her. But that would be too easy.

He stilled his movements, waiting for her to blink those pretty, gray cat eyes open.

When she did, he murmured, “Does he want me to come?”

Her eyes widened, and she gave a shallow shake of her head.

He sighed and withdrew his cock despite the fact he ached for release. “What next?”

Licking her lips, Jenn reached up a hand, and he helped her to her feet.

“I’m to give you a massage.”

Craig ground his jaw. He didn’t want to take this slowly. Didn’t have the patience for a long tease. But he followed her to a padded table.

When he was stretched on his back, she climbed over him, reached into a drawer at the side and snagged a bottle of oil. She gave him a small smile, then tilted the bottle toward her chest and streamed liquid over her breasts before setting it back inside the drawer. Then she bent over Craig and rubbed the oil covering her chest onto his. She started at his shoulders and worked her way down, scooting her spread thighs and leaving a wet trail of arousal on his lower belly, moving along the ridge of his thick cock and then lower still. Climbing off the table, she grabbed the edge of the platform, and he understood, bending his knees to keep his legs on the table while she pushed to shorten the table and lifted two stirrups.

He gave a rumbling growl but didn’t balk when she fit his heels into the stirrups and opened his legs. When she gripped his cock and pulled it down to fit it between her breasts, he cursed. “That’s one of my triggers,” he warned.

She bit her lower lip and smiled. “I know.” With her hands pushing her tits together to hold him, she moved up and down, gliding on his cock.

Watching her, his body grew rigid. Each time she lowered herself, the head of his cock disappeared, only to peek back from between her mounds, the cap growing redder and redder as she warmed his shaft. Such a beautiful sight, her round breasts cupping him. The sensations of her soft, slick skin gliding up and down his shaft made his balls hard as stones. He imagined how she’d look if he came right this second, come spurting on her chest and chin.

Air hissed between his teeth. “Blow it or let me shoot. But damn, girl. I’m not gonna last.”

Her head tilted, eyes slanting as she peeked into the high corner of the room, flirting with Aiden from beneath her lashes and sliding her tongue along the lush pout of her mouth. Craig cursed and reached down, ringing the base of his cock to regain his control.

Jenn dropped her hands from her breasts and pushed her hair back, then bent over his cock and rubbed those full lips around the head, her tongue swabbing him over and over before engulfing him again.

The snick of the lock sounded. Craig didn’t dare look back. Instead, he cupped Jenn’s chin and slid his thumb into her mouth to open her jaw and pull her off him. “That’s enough,” he said softly, but firmly.

“She’s a brat,” came a warm, deep rumble. “She didn’t finish what I asked her to do. I’ll have to see to her punishment.”

Jenn gave Craig a surreptitious wink but ducked her head and moved away from the end of the table.

“Kneel beside the bench, Jenn. I’ll take care of you in a little bit.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice soft but devoid of any contrition.

When Aiden strode within his sight, Craig’s balls drew closer to his groin. The Dom was dressed in leather pants, but his chest was bare. His dark hair was wet as though he’d just showered, and it stood in sexy spikes around his head. His gaze slid over Craig’s body, no interest betrayed, just a clinical perusal as he came around the end of the table.

He slid open the side drawer and pulled out a tube of lubricant.

Craig dragged in a ragged breath. Now was the point of no return. He was either in or out, because Aiden’s neutral mask didn’t go so far as to disguise the challenge in his gaze.

Aiden twisted off the cap and squeezed a generous dollop of clear gel onto his index finger.

“Any limits you want me to know about? Anything off-limits?”

Craig had never renewed the release he’d originally filled out for the club. He hadn’t known enough then to list any don’ts. And since then, he hadn’t found anything he feared or that made him so uncomfortable he might balk. “I’ll let you lead,” he said, keeping his tone even.

“Your word?”

“Popsicle.”

Aiden arched a brow.

Craig lifted his shoulders. “I like them.”

Aiden gave a curt nod, then dropped his gaze. His nostrils flared just a fraction. His breathing slowed.

Craig couldn’t help the little jerk his cock made. It was already pulsing, and a dribble of pre-come had leaked from the eyelet hole.

Aiden’s smoldering gaze rose and locked with Craig’s for a long moment. “Keep your balls shaved.”

Craig drew in a quick, sharp breath. Sounded like tonight wouldn’t be the one and only time they played together. “I will,” he said, answering the unspoken question—yes, he was willing to sub for Aiden again.

Aiden narrowed his eyes.

Now wasn’t the time to push back. This was an interview. Not the place for him to tempt punishment. Aiden needed to know he was willing to submit, that he wasn’t just playing. “I will, Sir,” he said softly.

Aiden’s jaw tensed. “Raise your knees and clasp them. I need access to your asshole.”

The words were blunt. A hot flush spilled across Craig’s cheeks, but he did as ordered, raising his knees and grabbing them to fold his legs against his chest.

Fingers spread his cheeks. A rough pad scraped his hole, then circled it. Lube melted against the heat. Lord, he could barely wait to feel that thick digit sink inside. He wanted to ask for it. But he held still. Kept silent. He lowered his gaze to Aiden’s chest and waited, barely breathing.

Aiden’s breaths were a little shorter, tension evident in the tightening of the thick muscles.

He pressed his finger against the opening, gently and pushed inside.

Craig closed his eyes. Afraid he was going to come on the spot.

“Open your eyes.”

Craig obeyed without hesitating, but knew a little of his desperation had to be showing in his expression.

Aiden’s eyelids dipped sexily down. His mouth curved slightly. He sank the finger deeper, then twisted, rubbing lube around Craig’s entrance, stretching the ring of muscles until it burned.

Sweet fuck, it felt good. “Permission to speak…” Craig gritted out.

Aiden pulled out, then glided back inside. “Permission given.”

“I’m close, Sir.”

“I know. But you won’t come.”

“Can I ring myself, Sir?”

“No choking allowed. That would be cheating.” Aiden dug deep, then leaned over him, his chest touching the end of Craig’s dick. “You know how this works. You’re not a virgin.”

Craig grimaced. “Don’t know if I can hold back.”

“If you don’t, we’re done.”

Something inside Craig went cold. Was Aiden bluffing? Didn’t he want this as much as Craig did? Would he really cut him off before they had a chance to explore each other?

“You done with the questions?”

Craig gave a crisp nod. Then he reached beside himself and curved his fingers around the edge of the padded table and dug in.

Aiden withdrew, picked up the lube and coated three of his fingers.

Craig started to sweat. His ass wasn’t sore yet, but it would be. And he couldn’t wait. God, he couldn’t. Not another second.

But the moment Aiden worked the tips inside him, carefully stretching him with slow nudges, Craig knew he had to wait. No way could he end this before he’d known what it was like to have Aiden covering him from behind, jerking into him. God, and if Jenn was sucking his cock at the same time, he’d die on the spot.

The image was impossible to blink away. His gaze rose to Aiden’s and locked. Did Aiden know what he was thinking? Did Aiden want the same thing? Or was this going to be a big mindfuck? A power play? See how far he could get the cop to go for a little head?

Aiden pulled his fingers free and walked toward the sink in the cabinets that lined the wall. Craig sank against the table, breathing deeply. He covered his eyes with his forearm, trying to gather his wits and his control. They’d barely started, and he was already so tense and starting to get scared he wasn’t going to cut it.

Why it was suddenly so important, he didn’t want to examine. He already knew deep inside this wasn’t some scene. Wasn’t something rehearsed or just play. This was as real as it got, and Craig didn’t do real.

But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he wanted it to be. Desperately so.

FOURnicopia!

And we’re back! I love the countdowns. Invariably, someone stumbles through the door and says, “How did I miss these books?” To which I answer, “I don’t know! I tried to get your attention the best way I could with this dang title!”

You know I giggle over that title to this day. It’s ornery and nasty—and perfect for the story! Fournicopia isn’t the most popular of the Delta Heat stories, and I think I know why. For some reason, women like their men to be Doms. What I think they believe when a man isn’t the dominating partner is that he’s also not a strong alpha male. WRONG! At least so far as Gus is concerned, it’s 100% wrong. But you have to read the story to see what I mean. 

In case you didn’t see the details concerning the contest in yesterday’s post, I’ll repeat them!

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate.

Gus Taggert knows a setup when he sees one. When one of his police officer buddies sends him on a doughnut run to one particular doughnut shop, Cornucopia, he hesitates. It’s too frilly and pink. However, the woman behind the counter serves him more than a couple dozen gourmet doughnuts, she gives him a mini-lesson in submission—something he’s eager to learn more about. When she orders him to see her that night at the BDSM club, La Forge, he’s more than eager to obey.

Newly vetted Domme, Aislinn Darby, has a sub she’s eager to take for a test run. The large, burly cop is the kind of alpha guy she’s been dying to tie up and spank. However, after she takes him through his paces, she finds herself more than willing to let him take control, something she hasn’t enjoyed with a man before. Gus’s brand of loving is addictive, but now she’s doubting herself and her own ability to control a scene. She has to have him back for one more go, only this time, she’s going to do it with a crowd around them to ensure he doesn’t forget who’s in charge. She bribes him into submission. Accept her dictates, and he can have her any way he wants as reward.

What Gus wants is Aislinn in the middle of a scene he orchestrates himself with the help of three of his best friends.

Gus Taggert knew it was a cliché. A cop in a doughnut shop. The officers waiting for him to arrive for the sergeant’s morning meeting didn’t like making the run because of the inevitable roll of the eyes or smartass grin they’d get standing in line.

However, he didn’t mind being the “doughnut guy”. The plus for being the brunt of any jokes was that he ate for free. That was okay with him. He took any pointed looks or lame jokes in stride. He was an affable guy. Hard to rile.

He’d learned long ago to stifle his anger and look for the good in people, even when they messed up. Being oversized and strong, he’d always had to be more careful throwing his weight around. People could get hurt, and that wasn’t why he’d been drawn to law enforcement. He wasn’t a bully in a uniform.

Gus liked being a cop. Liked what it stood for. Loved the black uniform and the camaraderie of his brother cops. He didn’t mind that his closest buds were all moving on to bigger and better things. He liked being a beat cop. Liked patrolling the neighborhood he lived in and getting to know the people he protected.

His father had been a small-town cop, and his father before him had been the sheriff of their little Arkansas berg. But then his mom had moved to Memphis—not because she’d wanted to, but because when his mom and dad divorced, she’d wanted to start fresh where everyone didn’t know her business and didn’t whisper to her ex about who she was seeing next.

Gus had missed his old school and friends, but had a natural gift for making new ones. That he was big and brawny, quick on his feet despite his size, had made him a natural for the football team.

And that’s where he’d met Jackson Teague and Craig Eason, who surprisingly enough, wanted to be cops too when they graduated.

They’d all gone to college together, applied for the police academy and been accepted. That’s where they’d met the remaining members of their current posse, Beau McIntyre and Mondo Acevedo.

So, Gus was never lonely. He had his peeps, a job he loved, a city that kept him on his toes. And today, he was on his way to explore a new doughnut shop.

Mondo, although now in vice and no longer attending the station-house morning meetings, had given him a roll of bills the night before. “Treat the guys to doughnuts. On me.”

Gus had glanced at the roll. “This is too much.”

“Not for the place I want you to go.”

He should have known from the gleam in Mondo’s dark brown eyes that something was up, but Gus liked to think the best of people. Maybe Mondo really did just want to treat the guys to something special.

Well, it was special all right. Not like any doughnut shop Gus had ever seen before. He stood on the street in front of the small store front, eyeing the painted glass window with its pink awning, and felt the first rumbles of misgiving.

Cornucopia. He’d had to Google it last night to get the address and to see what the name meant. A horn of plenty. A familiar Thanksgiving ornament. But there weren’t ears of corn or squashes spilling from the dark pink horn painted on the glass. Doughnuts looking like Christmas presents, painted with ribbons and sparkling with stars, spilled from the mouth of the horn.

All the pink and frothy cuteness made him itch. However, he’d been given a wad of cash and a mission to buy a couple dozen doughnuts from this specific shop. For once, his cheeks burned at the idea.

Hitching up his utility belt, he blew out a deep breath that billowed his cheeks and pushed the glass door. A bell at the top tinkled.

Inside, the shop was pretty much what he’d expected—pale purple tiled flooring, white-painted iron bistro tables, boxes decorated in frou-frou paper and ribbons stacked at one end of the sparkling clean glass-front counter.

Thankfully, the shop was empty. Maybe he could back out, say it’d been closed when he came by, and he could hit a Dunkin Donuts on the way to the station house.

As soon as he’d made up his mind to leave, he heard a stirring from the back, and rather than be caught with one foot still on the sidewalk outside like he was scared to come inside, he stepped through the door and held the bell so it didn’t chime again.

“Have a thing for bells?” came a husky feminine voice.

His gaze darted back to the counter, his cheeks filling with heat. A woman stood there, every bit as pretty and dainty as her little shop, with dark red hair, pale-as-dinner-china white cheeks and large brown eyes. The kind of woman he avoided like the plague because he always felt like a lumbering bear beside them.

What had she asked? Oh, yeah, the bells. He didn’t have a thing for them, he’d only wanted to be quiet and not charge into the place like a bull in a china shop. “No, ma’am.”

“That’s a nice start,” she said, her voice dropping again into a sexy, shivering whisper.

Gus’s cheeks burned hotter, because he knew she’d just made a joke and he didn’t understand it. Further, meeting her amused gaze proved surprisingly difficult. He had the urge to duck his head. To wait for permission to come closer.

Her amusement faded. “Come in, officer,” she said with brisk efficiency. “Can I help you with something?”

He cleared his throat, scuffed his boots on the doormat, like that was why he’d paused coming in, and stepped deeper inside the shop. “I’m just here to buy some doughnuts.”

“I don’t sell just doughnuts.” Her voice sharpened.

Had he insulted her somehow? He came closer to the counter. “They’re pretty doughnuts.”

“I’m a trained pastry chef. These are gourmet doughnuts.”

Like he’d said, they were pretty, but he didn’t get what it was she expected him to say. He thrust his hand into his pocket and took out the roll of bills Mondo had given him. “Mondo said you’d fix me up.”

“Mondo…” Her eyes sparkled for a moment, then narrowed. “Show me which you’re interested in.”

He reached out to point at one confection sitting on a tray atop the glass counter. The doughnut looked more like a pretty cupcake and was covered in glaze with star-shaped silver beads glinting on the top. “Some of these?”

Her hand shot out and slapped the top of his. Not hard, but the loud crack it made startled him. “Ma’am?” he asked, startled she’d dared smack an officer of the law.

“Correct response again,” she said, an edge to her sexy voice. “However, I think you need to come around the counter and make your selection.”

Right about now, he knew his face was beet red. And the collar of his shirt was tightening like a noose, cutting off his air. “Beg your pardon?”

“Come. Now.”

His body reacted to the firm tone with an instant surge of heat straight to his groin. With his balls drawing up, he thought he might embarrass himself further if he got too close to the pretty pastry chef. “Uh, a couple dozen’s all I need,” he said swiftly. “Whatever you want to put into a box.”

The redhead narrowed her eyes. “Mondo’s a friend of mine. He said he was sending me someone special. Don’t disappoint me.”

Mondo was her friend. The way she’d emphasized the word put this strange conversation in a new perspective. Her tone, the hardening glint in her pretty eyes, the stubborn tilt of her chin—good Lord, she was that kind of friend, someone from Mondo’s club, which Gus had visited a time or two out of curiosity first, then growing wonder.

He swallowed hard, beginning to sweat, then slowly made his way around the glass-front counter toward her, seeing the rest of her lovely, slim frame. When he stood a couple feet away, he ducked his head, dropping his gaze. Waiting now, for what he didn’t know, but he knew instinctively she was pleased, because she sighed.

“You’re bigger than I expected.”

Oh hell, what was she looking at? Had his erection become noticeable?

“And you’re better looking.”

He gave a little smile, letting her see it, but still not raising his glance. The parts of her he could watch were fascinating anyway. Her breasts were small but round, and the tips were beginning to poke through her pink-buttoned blouse and lacy bra. Her pale trousers were cinched at the waist with a white leather belt, and it was a tiny trim waist that offset the feminine flare of her hips. Legs proportionate with her body stretched below to pink-tipped toes that peeked out of sandals she wore. His mouth filled with drool. He’d give a week’s wages for the privilege of sucking on them.

She slid open the door to the back of the counter and waved for him to have a look.

Gus wished like hell she’d move back, because standing this close, he got a whiff of her light, floral scent. Beads of sweat popped on his forehead.

Feeling clumsier by the minute, he bent to glance inside the shelves at the array of fancy doughnuts. Sheesh. Not a single plain glazed one. The guys were going to razz the hell out of him.

Suddenly, she stepped behind him, her hands landing on either side of the cabinet to trap him.

He gulped hard. “Ma’am?”

A knee climbed along the inside of one of his thighs, then snuggled against his balls. He froze—blood surged south, filling his cock. Then she slid her knee down and tapped his feet with one of hers, urging him silently to widen his stance.

Which he did. No question or quick denial came to mind. He braced his hands against the glass like a perp ready for a pat-down, dreading and yet eager for whatever she’d do next.

Her hand cupped his balls. “Anything you like?”

Afraid he’d bleat like a goat if he tried to answer, he nodded.

Her fingers closed around his sac, and she gave him a gentle tug. “Me too.”

Then just as quickly, her hand fell away and she moved back.

Gus pushed from the counter and turned.

Her eyes were softer, her expression pleased. She laid a palm against the side of his face. Her thumb stroked his bottom lip. Her gaze dipped to his name tag then back up again. “When I see you next, Officer Taggert,” she whispered, stepping closer, “don’t say a word. Take off your clothes and be ready for whatever I want next.”

His tongue felt glued to the top of his mouth. Sure he wouldn’t manage more than a caveman’s grunt, he nodded again.

A small hand cupped his cock through his uniform pants and rode the length trapped in his dark trousers against his thigh. “There’s more to you than shows. I like that. Look at me.”

He raised his gaze, stopping on the faint curve of her full lips, then rose again to lock with her gold-flecked brown gaze.

She reached up, stuck the nail of her index finger under his chin and pulled down his head until their faces were level. Then she leaned forward, her cheek sliding alongside his. Her warm breath gusted against his ear, and he shivered.

“I’ll give you a box. You can take as many doughnuts as you can fit inside. Take your time. Compose yourself. I’ll see you tonight.”

Gus held his breath until she released him and moved away. She bent to retrieve a box from beneath the counter then gave him a slow smile and turned on her pretty pink heels to walk through the doorway leading to the kitchen.

When she was gone, he let out the breath he’d held and grabbed for the edge of the counter to keep from swaying. Thank God, he’d parked right out front. His dick tented his pants leg.

Swallowing to wet his dry mouth, he slid open the glass and carefully plucked two dozen doughnuts from their trays, not caring what he chose because the sooner he got out of here the better.

When he caught up with Mondo, he’d chew him a new asshole for not warning him what he was walking into.

However, he still felt the warmth of her slap against the back of his hand and—despite his embarrassment—smiled as he exited the shop.

FIVE Ways ‘Til Sunday!

I don’t think I’ve ever had as much fun dreaming up a new series as I have with Delta Heat. The fun began with the titles! Five Ways ‘Til Sunday… Fournicopia… A Perfect Trifecta… Now, there’s Twice the Bang—or there will be in just 4 days! I built the countdown right into the titles. Not very subtle, huh? But you got it, right?

From now until Tuesday, I’m going to remind you about the stories that came before, then give you a peek inside Twice. And if you follow along, you’ll get a chance to read some sexy excerpts, but also qualify to win some fun prizes.

THE CONTEST: Every day, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate. Incentive enough to follow along?

Let’s start! This was the first book in the series, and the first time my lovely band of police officer brothers considered sharing a woman. Once they saw how powerful it could be bringing a woman into their circle to pleasure and cherish, it became their initiation rite.

“FIVE WAYS ‘TIL SUNDAY was an awesome read…” ~4.5 Stars, Night Owl Reviews

“Delightfully quick read, you are so consumed in the story it is difficult to put it down…” ~Sensual Reads

Sometimes a man’s just gotta call for backup…

Marti Kowalski is all wrong for Officer Jackson Teague—he just won’t listen to reason. She didn’t finish high school, runs a bar. Has a tattoo and a blue streak in her hair. Yet he still wants to marry her? She can’t say she’s not tempted, but she’s got a bucket list to complete before she ties the knot.

Not just any bucket—more like a fifty-five-gallon drum of sexual wishes so explicit, there’s no way one man, even Jackson, can fulfill them all.

When Marti turns him down again, Jackson doesn’t give up, he insists on knowing why. That’s when she shows him her list. He takes it, thinks about it—and calls on the only men he can trust: four buddies from his academy graduating class.

Between the five of them, he’s sure they can come up with a plan to check off every item on her list in one wild, wicked weekend. That is, if she has the nerve to follow through—and if he can bear to share her.

Warning: Five men on a mission to break down the resistance of one determined woman. Author suggests readers keep their significant others on speed dial. Not responsible for accidental 911 calls.

Marti Kowalski waved a hand blindly behind her at her desk, swiping the inventory sheets she’d slaved over for two days, and her telephone, to the floor. She didn’t care about the mess—or by the crunch—the loss of her phone. Right this moment, she had Jackson where she wanted him—too far gone with want to worry what damage he might cause.

His body was hard; his expression carved to a lustful edge, which promised the kind of sexy interlude she preferred—something spontaneous and surprising.

Even after all the months they’d been seeing each other, he managed to surprise her. Like now. He’d pulled her from the door of the ladies’ restroom and goose-stepped her with her arm bent behind her back to the manager’s office, growling menacingly into her ear about the wicked things he’d do to her.

Ma’am, keep quiet and I won’t hurt you.

She’d shivered at the menace in his voice, but he’d rubbed her hip gently to remind her this was just a game. She had to hand it to him. He knew what made her hot.

Jackson bent her over her desk and shoved up her blouse. His head ducked to pluck a nipple with his lips, and then he bit it.

“I wasn’t expecting you,” she gasped, her fingers digging into the rigid Kevlar armor he wore beneath his dark shirt. “You’re on duty. Thought you didn’t cross that line when you’re wearin’ the uniform.”

His head reared back. His dark eyes flashed. “Shut up, ma’am. You draw any attention, and I might have to get rough.”

So he was still playing the role. She widened her eyes. “Please, sir, I’ll do anything.” She tried to infuse a little angst into her voice, but inside she was laughing uproariously.

A glint of humor in his gaze might have just been the reflection of the overhead light because it quickly extinguished. He bared his teeth. A hand snuck between her thighs. A finger tucked beneath one side of the crotch of her panties and tugged. Elastic stretched and gave. His palm crammed against her bare pussy.

There was no hiding how turned on she was. Not when cream smeared his hand.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” He drew back, gripped her by the waist and gave her a little shake—just to remind her who was in charge here.

Her head bobbed backward. Her heart skittered at the strength in those large, hard hands. He could so easily hurt her, but was careful to give her just the right kind of pain.

Nostrils flaring, he did a good impression of a criminal intent on doing her bodily harm. She guessed he saw enough of them in his line of work to mimic the look.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, “Sure this is the way you wanna play it?”

“Baby, don’t stop now,” Marti moaned.

His grunt accompanied the tightening of his hands on the corners of her hips. He gave no warning and whirled her around, then pushed gently on the back of her neck until she folded over her desk.

Her short leather skirt lifted. Hands gripped her cheeks and squeezed. His mouth pressed against her skin.

She huffed. “What kind of a rapist are you?”

“One with an ass fetish.”

She giggled and reached back to push him away, wriggling on the desk like she wanted to escape. “Stop,” she whispered huskily. “Stop or you’ll be sorry. My boyfriend’s a Memphis PD cop.”

Another grunt was his only response. He straightened, his hard body rubbing against the back of her thighs and ass. An arm clamped over her lower back, holding her down. A zipper scraped. His cock nudged against her folds, thick, insistent—lord, Jackson was completely into this naughty game. He found her entrance and drove deep inside in a single, merciless thrust.

Her body arched off the desk. “Oh shit!”

“Did I hurt you?” he muttered, deeply embedded, but unmoving.

Didn’t he know how to play this game? “You’re gonna pay, you bastard,” she said with an edge of a sob in her voice, but she wiggled her butt to let him know it was okay to proceed.

He withdrew slowly then stroked deep again. This time his hands slammed the wood on either side of her shoulders. “Stick it up higher, slut,” he growled. “My balls are bangin’ the desk.”

Slut? He’d never called her that before. She held back a chuckle, hoping the playacting wouldn’t end too soon. Jackson could only keep his focus up to a certain point. Not that she’d truly mind it when he dropped the act. Knowing she was the reason he couldn’t stay in control gave her deep satisfaction. She rose on tip-toe and tilted up her ass.

His cock crowded through juicy, engorged walls, filling her up like no man ever had before. Maybe he really was that big, or maybe she’d never been so excited. Jackson was the best lover she’d ever had—the most adventurous with the most stamina. That his body was ripped like a bodybuilder’s only added to his dangerous appeal.

She gave a short, throaty groan. “Ohmygod, that feels incredible.”

A knock sounded at the door.

“Go away,” she shouted. To Jackson, she whispered, “Hate to say it, but we might have to rush this a bit.”

Another, harder rap sounded. “Hey, Jackson, you in there?”

Marti relaxed and pushed backward to take more of Jackson’s large cock. It was only his friend, Craig Eason, letting them know he was playing lookout. Not something he hadn’t done before.

“Fucker,” Jackson bit out, banging her ass faster.

Marti snickered then gasped when he swirled inside her to stroke her most sensitive spot. “Think he knows what we’re doin’?”

“He will if you keep making that noise.”

“What noise?”

He banged her again. “That bleating noise.”

“You sayin’ I sound like a goat?”

“More like a fluffy little lamb. It’s cute.” A kiss landed on the back of her neck. “He’ll pick the lock if we don’t wrap it up.”

Marti widened her stance and tilted just a little more, needing more of her pussy smacked by his sharp, forceful thrusts. “That something he learned at the police academy?”

“Nah. Craig wasn’t always a good guy.”

Marti suspected Jackson was cut from the exact same cloth. Sure, he was an attentive boyfriend, kind to kids and dogs, but when he looked at her, sometimes she got the feeling there was something deeper and darker lurking in his past. Or maybe it was just the hardened criminals he dealt with,  rubbing off on him. Her pussy swelled, getting hot, and so wet Jackson was swimming in her arousal. She aimed a smile over her shoulder. “Baby, I’m ready to rumble whenever you are.”

“Shut up, lady,” he said, his voice rough as gravel again. “Think you can take this?”

“Man,” she moaned, “my boyfriend’s soooo gonna kill you.”

Okay. Enough gushing. Onto inspiration.

Inspiration, or better known as how I (the novelist) come up with my story ideas, is different for each writer. I know some folks who get inspired by a dream or a smell or a color in a sunrise. I’m not that abstract. I need an actual person, place or thing to kick start my muse. For example, the heroine in my erotic novella, On the Corner of Heartache and Hopeful—MIC was based on/inspired by an actual female mechanic who helped me once when I’d stupidly locked my keys in my car. Another example would be my best-selling contemporary romance, Battle-Born Love, which was inspired by a now defunct repo business called Accounts Retrievable.

And then there’s my upcoming release, Erotic Escapades of a Married Couple. This novella was inspired pretty much lock, stock and barrel by a girlfriend, PJ (neither her name nor her initials). PJ confided to me that she had a fantasy of going into a Jiffy Lube or Pep Boys or some similar garage and allowing the guys to—ahem—“have their way” with her. Well…Linda the friend was pretty shocked while Lynda the writer was seriously inspired.    And thus, Erotic Escapades was born.

Of course I took several creative licenses, including the introduction of a gay/bi-sexual friend who becomes…more. I also pushed my comfort zone for Erotic Escapades by writing m/m sex for the first time. Here’s the blurb and excerpt:

Being a settled, married couple doesn’t have to be boring…

Griffin Jensen has it all. He owns a successful advertising agency, has a great kid, beautiful home and the hottest wife known to man. He and Deana make it their mission to fulfill each other’s every erotic fantasy. So why does he feel like something is missing?

Deana Jensen has been head over heels in love with her husband since they first dated in college. Back then, Grif was a player—with both sexes. Deana never considered his bisexual past a threat, but after twelve years of marriage, she fears she’s no longer enough for him. She’ll do whatever it takes to satisfy her husband, but can she share him with another man?

Vance Korbett swore off women years ago when his fiancée left him at the altar. Now he finds “love” in the arms of different men. It’s simple and easy. Eat. Sleep. Screw. Nothing could be better—other than the marital bliss he sees with his best friends, Deana and Grif. Too bad three’s a crowd. Or is it?

Erotic Escapades of a Married Couple is a hot, sexy novella which includes explicit sex, group sex and M/M sex.

 NOTE: THIS EXCERPT IS FOR MATURE READERS ONLY!!

Grif merged his Porsche into oncoming traffic on the expressway. The Thursday morning work commute was light, probably because it was still before six a.m. He glanced at his passenger.

Deana sat, her hands folded primly in her lap and a blindfold over her eyes. Dressed in a simple zip-up navy jogging hoodie and matching fleece pants, electrified tension radiated off her in waves. “So, where are we going?”

The breathy quality of her voice smacked him square in the balls. It was the same tone she used when nearing a climax and she urged him to go faster. To fuck her harder. He squirmed in his seat as his semi-erect dick got firmer. “Wait and see, birthday girl.”

He concentrated on the road, tamping down the urge to forgo the plan he and Vance had hatched for celebrating his wife’s thirty-third. She didn’t know anything, so he could just as easily text Vance that the deal was off then whisk her to a five-star hotel where she’d be pampered and fucked to within an inch of her life. Hell, to within an inch of his life. She’d never be the wiser…

Yet he knew he wouldn’t do that. This had been her fantasy for years. After twelve years of marriage, it was time he granted it—even if it might kill him.

“Come on, babe,” she pleaded. “I deserve a teensy hint given that you got me up at this unholy hour. ”

“Nope. And if you bug me, I’ll make sure you wait just that much longer.”

She crossed her arms with a huff, her lower lip sticking out. He grinned and switched on the radio to fill the silence of the forty-minute drive. Vance had been in charge of the arrangements and had chosen a distant suburb. Hopefully it’d be far enough away so Deanie wouldn’t suffer any repercussions of this little adventure. He wanted her happy, not embarrassed.

Jealous uncertainty wiggled through his chest, forging a dent in his resolve. He shook it off. This was what she wanted. It was okay. Didn’t mean she found him lacking in the fucking department. Because she didn’t. Not at all. Every time they made love, he made damn sure she had a minimum of two orgasms.

Grif kept up the internal pep talk until he’d parked in a slot, killed the engine and snapped off the radio.

“Now will you tell me?”

“Nope.” He reached over and pulled the blindfold off her eyes. “But I’ll show you.”

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Erotic Escapades is scheduled for release at the end of June. In the meantime, please check out my website www.lyndabailey.net for my other stories, all available through Amazon.com and Barnesandnoble.com.

So, what gets your creative juices going? It is something concrete, like me, or more intangible? I’d love to for you to share.

Thanks again, Delilah for hosting me today!

Thank you for having me today, Delilah. I think this will be fun, but this will be a little different from most of the posts on your blog. It is about writing but only in a peripheral way. I love blogging. Probably more than any other social media, and that would be because I’m fairly long-winded. The subject also relates to my first release VERMONT ESCAPE. (See below for cover)

How many of you have ever written a letter to the editor or one to your Congress person or state representative or assembly person? (In Vermont, the state legislature is called the assembly. I researched that for my July release.) How about to your school board representative. Do you know who that person is?

I see you squirming out there. Stomach heaving, finger itching to push delete because you think I’m going to go all politics on you. No, no, no. I’ve heard the rules that include don’t talk religion or politics on social media, because you run the chance of alienating ½ your readers. I am a rule follower.  But I’ve always been an involved citizen.

Got it from my mother, an awesome Civil Service executive secretary for colonels and generals. My father was in the Air Force, and we moved around a lot. Folks in the military couldn’t get involved in politics openly. Makes sense in a way. The President is the commander-in-chief. Not good to attack the boss.

Well, back to my mother. After my father retired, Mom picked up her pen (typewriter/computer) and sent off reams of letters to politicians of all walks and in all positions. This was back in the day, when letters were on paper and mailed. To their credit, she heard back from most of them.

Mom was my role model, a genteel southern lady, who had strong opinions and wasn’t afraid of stating them. That’s what I’ve become. (Not the southern lady part). LOL

I started by working in all my daughters’ school PTAs, and boy did I learn leadership skills there. Ultimately, I ran for a seat on our school board. Lost the first time (not at all fun), but ran twice more and was elected both times, serving for a total of 8 years. The learning curve was huge, and I loved the experience.

For me the hardest thing was talking to a reporter. Oh, I could talk all day into a mike, but getting the content down to fit the 15 -20 seconds that would show up on TV? That was tough. You won’t be surprised to learn it’s a challenge for me to break down a 90-K book into a log line. LOL

You’re thinking I’ve wondered all around several topics, aren’t you? Well, only sort of. You see, we held elections all across the country this past March, April, and May in small towns to sprawling urban communities for everything from mayor to dog-catcher and everything in between. Run-offs usually fall in the month of June. On July 4th, we celebrate among other things our freedom to vote. I’m a fairly patriotic person. (Not surprisingly, you can find a scene in VERMONT ESCAPE, where Jill celebrates the Fourth with her new friends and contrasts the weather in Vermont with that in Texas. Big difference.  )

I encourage you to take note of who is running for various positions in your own community. Many of those elections are held in the fall. Others are in the spring as I mentioned above. Find out when you hold elections in your area. Find someone who believes the way you do and stands for the things you do. Then give money to their campaign, volunteer, and vote.

If you’re afraid of getting embroiled in party politics, you can probably avoid that. More than likely you’ll find positions that are non-partisan. (In my town, our school board, city council, and mayor are non-partisan elections.)

If you decide to go with one of the political parties, good for you. Just please don’t post ugly things about the other side on my Facebook page.

We are fortunate in our country to make changes in our political system in a peaceful manner. In some countries, when people speak out they face bullets. It’s your turn now. Have you ever worked in anyone’s campaign? What compelled you to do that? Was it a partisan race? Have you ever run for a position? How did that turn out? How do you educate yourself about candidates and their positions? Even if you’ve never gotten behind a candidate or platform, are you registered to vote? Do you feel like you just don’t have time?

Remember the young girl in Pakistan who was shot because she wanted to make sure girls in her country got an education? We should get involved in her honor.

My first book, VERMONT ESCAPE, releases July 15 by MuseItUp Publishing and will be available at all e-book venues.

After the murders of her husband and then father, Jill Barlow flees to Vermont, but the Texas gambling syndicate believes she’s hiding damning evidence. To get it, they’ll kill again.

Excerpt:

Jill Barlow reached for her make-up kit and brushed against the one thing she’d been doing her damnedest to avoid. Her heart rate tripped into overtime.

It was the package she received days after her dad was murdered. That was one month ago, but she couldn’t face opening a reminder of the nightmare.

Pictures of her vigorous father mixed with recent images of his closed casket. Nausea hit. Again. Damn. Why would someone blow off her father’s head ? She hadn’t stayed to find out. She’d run.

I blog every Thursday. You can find me at my website. And follow me at Facebook and Twitter. I’d love to hear from you. And thanks again, Delilah.

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Wisdom from the Kama Sutra

Everyone knows that the Kama Sutra is a sex manual, but did you also know that it’s an ancient etiquette manual, as well?

When I was writing How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride, I did some research and discovered that The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana is almost 2,000 years old. Written in Sanskrit, it wasn’t translated into English until 1883 by the famous explorer, Sir Richard Burton. The book was privately and quietly published, no doubt shipped in plain brown paper.

Once I’d decided to set a story in 1885, I found a copy of his translation and started reading. It’s a fascinating mix of sexual instruction and advice on courtship, combined with superstitions of the period in which it was written. In addition to listing various sexual positions, some with quaint names such as “splitting of a bamboo” and “fixing of a nail”, it also covers biting, scratching and striking, as well as “mouth congress”, i.e. oral sex, and threesomes.

Hindu society of the time was patriarchal and some of the advice is ridiculous by today’s standards. People also married very young at the time, so I suppose it’s no wonder that the advice for how the woman should behave sounds very juvenile by today’s standards. In one section, Vatsyayana, who was a monk, actually recommends kidnapping the prospective bride if all else fails! Something my civilized English hero would never do. Still, some of the courtship advice is timeless, and shows a basic understanding of the differences between men and women.

Here are some of my favorite quotes:

“Women, being of tender nature, want tender beginnings.”

“At the first time of sexual union the passion of the male is intense, and his time is short, but in subsequent unions on the same day the reverse of this is the case. With the female however it is the contrary, for at the first time her passion is weak, and then her time is long, but on subsequent occasions on the same day, her passion is intense and her time short, until her passion is satisfied.”

“… the man should do whatever the girl takes most delight in, and he should get for her whatever she may have a desire to possess.”

“Says Ghotakamukha, Though a man loves a girl ever so much, he never succeeds in winning her without a great deal of talking.”

“In Gramaneri many young men enjoy a woman that may be married to one of them, either one after the other or at the same time.  Thus one of them holds her, another enjoys her. . . and in this they go on enjoying her several parts alternatively.”

The same things can be done when several men are sitting in company with one courtesan, or when one courtesan is alone with many men. In the same way this can be done by the women of the King’s harem when they accidentally get hold of a man.”

Makes you wonder how often the women of the harem “accidentally” got hold of a man! And where they found him, in the first place. This quote may have been the inspiration for the Victorian erotic novel Three Nights in a Moorish Harem, by the prolific author Anonymous.

Even though he was a monk, Vatsyayana had a romantic streak: “If men and women act according to each other’s liking, their love for each other will not be lessened even in one hundred years.”

Last December, I reissued my short story, How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride, in which Victorian sensibilities collide with the sensual wisdom of the Kama Sutra. This was a fun story to write and to research, since I did, indeed, have to read the above-mentioned sex manual. It was the perfect way to spice up an arranged Victorian marriage.

How To Woo… A Reluctant Bride
(Romantic Historical Short Story)
by Lyndi Lamont
Rating: Spicy

A marriage contract, nothing more…until darkly handsome Evan Channing and demure Lydia Blatchford meet. Yet the rules are simple for an arrangement such as theirs. There should be no misunderstanding, no illusions of anything more.

But the rules are about to change when Evan is gifted with an intriguing copy of the Kama Sutra.  He sets out to win his high-born bride, blending seductive heat with exotic lessons in lovemaking. With a little help from Sir Richard Burton’s new, provocative translation of ancient wisdom on seduction and arousal, the cold marriage bed of an arranged union is about to combust into a blazing flame of desire

(Previously published under the title Love… By the Book)

4 Angels…” a scintillating mix of lust and sexual exploration… Ms. Lamont has done a very nice job of bringing a bit of the exotic into her writing.” – Dawnie, Fallen Angel Reviews

Available for 99 cents from:
Amazon, All Romance eBooks, Apple iBooks, Barnes & Noble/Nook, Kobo Books, and Smashwords

Lyndi Lamont is the racy alter ego of romance author Linda McLaughlin. Since becoming Lyndi, she has discovered that writing sexy romance is a license to be naughty, at least between the pages of her books! Lyndi has written numerous short stories and novellas, including male/male erotica.

You can find her online at: http://www.lyndilamont.com/
Blog: Lyndi’s Love Notes: http://www.lyndilamont.com/blog
Twitter: https://twitter.com/LyndiLamont
GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/LyndiLamont

I’m keeping it short and sweet today. Just a question for you to answer, because your opinion matters!

If archeologists could somehow discover the location of and dig up anything—an object or some lost city—from any time in the past, what would you want that thing or place to be?

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Psst! My Lost Souls blog tour starts today! Check out the links to the websites here. You know there will be prizes and plenty to keep you fascinated, dah-lings!