Ten years ago my first full length novel was published by Berkley Heat. Over the next couple of years, I wrote four more books for that line, and I’m thrilled to be able to bring them back now so new readers can discover them, and those who have been with me since the beginning can fall in love over again.
These books were never planned to be a series. I was a new writer, and I did everything by the seat of my pants. In fact, the fourth story was contracted to be something totally different, but when I was halfway through writing Trouble(# 3), I emailed my editor and said, “Hey, you remember Karl from Bound(#1)? He’s in Trouble as well, and I really think he needs to be taken down a notch. Can I do his story next instead of xxx?” and she was all for it.
Readers called these books the Dungeon stories, as they all had a scene or a mention of a club called The Dungeon in them, and even though they were all written as Stand Alones, they’re all loosely connected by secondary characters and location. Now, ten years later, I’m re-branding and re-releasing them this summer as the True Desires series. True Desires, because to me, that is what these books all have in common. At the core, each story is about the characters learning, and accepting what they truly need and desire, in order to find their happy ending. I could’ve kept them titled The Dungeon books, but unlike my Overwatch series, these stories aren’t really based around the club. Interestingly enough, they are in the same world and timelines as The Overwatch books. In Unfettered, Ronnie mentions a guy from Canada who recommends Overwatch to her, and that is Mason Hardin, the owner of The Dungeon in Vancouver. I’m not sure many readers caught that, but I know some who have been following me for years did. Now that I have the rights back to these stories, you can expect more crossover characters and storylines, as I truly love both series, and I hope you will too.
Get the first book in the True Desires series FREE right now!
BOUND
The strongest way to be bound, is by emotion.
Everybody has a dark side. I just never expected mine to come out in my sexuality. But in that quiet time before I drift off to sleep the images that come into my mind shock even me. You see, I’ve always been the good girl. The steady one, the responsible one, but ever since I set eyes on Joe Carson, the dreams have turned into urges… a restlessness I can’t resist.
So I don’t.
No one is more shocked than me when after putting on a private show of self love for Joe, I tell him I’ll do anything for him… and he holds me to it.
I admit it. I’m an addict.
I’m addicted to the freedom that I find in his arms…and I’m worried it might cost me the freedom from small town existence I’ve been working towards my whole life.
The door to the apartment swung open slowly and I stood there, unsure of what to say or do as six feet plus of solid muscle walked inside like he owned the place. Thick black hair that was a bit unruly made my fingers itch to touch his wavy locks, but those distant ice blue eyes seemed to suggest that wouldn’t be a smart move. Right now those eyes were guarded, but hot, as they ran over my still form.
Joe Carson.
The man I’d been fantasizing about since I first saw him two months earlier when he’d hired on at the casino I work in. At twenty-six years old I’m no virgin, but I can honestly say I’ve never had much luck in the sex department either. None of the guys I’d been with were anything to brag about. Hell, until today I’d never even had a male induced orgasm. When I needed to get off, I relied on myself.
Then Joe showed up.
I could count him among my lovers now. After all, he’d fucked me so good only that afternoon and gave me such an intense orgasm that I’d promised to do anything for him. Now he wanted to hold me to it.
Okay, so I told him he could do anything before he gave me the massive orgasm. The chance to live out a sexual fantasy with my dream man had been too much to resist.
“Hi, Joe.” At least my voice sounded natural, if a bit breathy. “Can I get you a drink? I have water, diet pop, or pear cider?”
“No, thank you.” He shook his head and advanced toward me, the hungry gleam in his eye making my pussy throb. “I just want you.”
My pulse jumped and my knees weakened. He stopped when he was only inches away, swallowing up my personal space. I looked up at him and licked my lips nervously, reveling in the tidal wave of sensations.
“You look very nice.” He reached out and brushed his knuckles over the tip of one breast then the other, making my nipples tighten and poke out under the shirt. His words, when he spoke, were soft and cajoling with a bit of steel buried beneath. “But I told you to be naked for me when I arrived.”
Instantly I was back in the surveillance room, eager to please, and ready to do anything for him.
“Sorry.” I smiled at him sassily, fighting to remain somewhat normal. “Getting dressed after a shower is habit.”
He quirked a dark eyebrow. “Do you want me to leave?”
“No”
“Then get naked.” He turned and lowered himself into the overstuffed armchair just inside the door. “Now.”
Gone was the tender lover who, earlier that day had held me up and cradled me against his chest until my orgasm receded and I could stand on my own again. In front of me now was the enigmatic security guard that I’d been drooling over for two months; the man who came to me in my dreams and used my body as his personal playground.
I bit down on my bottom lip and stifled the urge to ask what he had planned. Instead, I crossed my arms at the waist and pulled my shirt over my head. Joe’s casual posture never changed, his expression remained detached except for his eyes. They darkened at the sight of my naked breasts, and my confidence swelled. The tension in the air got thicker, and my insides grew heavier, weighted with arousal. The urge to tease him was strong that I ran my hands over my breasts, cupping them to tweak the nipples between thumb and finger.
“If you’re happy doing that I don’t need to be here.” He made to get up from his seat.
“No!” Before he could stand fully, I pushed my pants and underwear from my hips in one quick move and stepped out of them, heart racing. “I’m naked. Don’t go.”
He stepped closer, until we were close enough that his breath danced across my cheek. He stared into my eyes, searching for something. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
My heart pounded and a tingle of something almost like fear whispered through me, blending easily with the lust simmering in my veins.
“Oh, yes.” My words were soft, almost a whisper.
“I noticed you my first day at the casino. The way you walk and talk as if ice wouldn’t melt in your pussy.” He stepped back and unbuckled the utility belt around his waist. He dropped the belt and all its security gadgets on the armchair and planted his hands on his trim hips. “The things I’ve wanted to do to you. I’ve dreamt of fucking you in every position imaginable. I’ve jerked off to the thought of coming all over your pretty face.”
The crude words entered through my ears and flowed down my body, stroking my insides and heating me up until I could feel my nether lips swell and dampen. No one had ever talked to me like that before. No one dared to. But I loved it. The words heated my blood and melted my insides, and I wanted everything he described.
“I never dreamt you’d actually be into it. Then, today, out of the blue, you decide to give me a private peep show at work.” He chuckled and gave his head a small shake. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to ignore that.”
“I’m glad,” I said softly. “I’ve never done anything like that before, Joe.”
He looked at me for a long silent moment.
“I believe you. But . . . after I fucked you, you said something else.” He reached out and stroked his fingertips over my belly, up over my ribs and along the undersides of my breasts. “You told me you were mine. My slut, to do with as I pleased.”
Heat crept up my neck and I mentally cursed my fair skin. I’d said that in a moment of passion. As if he could read my thoughts, his full lips lifted at one corner. “Did you mean it?”
Something soft flickered the depths of Joe’s eyes, a flash of uncertainty maybe, and then disappeared. A shiver skipped down my spine and I pressed my thighs together. He was so aloof, yet so intense. I’d seen him prowl the casino floor, and my fantasies had gotten darker and darker. Matching the almost primal aura that surrounded him.
He may be dangerous, but he didn’t scare me. At that moment my only real fear was that he’d walk away.
Find out more about the other True Desires stories on Sasha’s Bookshelf
Author Biography
Bestselling author Sasha White writes modern erotic fiction with an edge of kink with the occasional foray into paranormal and science-fiction. White has published over thirty stories with publishers such as Kensington Aphrodisia, Berkley Heat, Avon, Black Lace, and Samhain Publishing, and is recognized as one the top authors of the genre.
After over 20 years as a waitress/bartender, Sasha now works full-time as a writer. She’s says “I learned how to build well-developed, realistic characters from exploring cultures, including our own when serving millions of drinks to millions of people. I’ll talk to pretty much anyone, and more importantly, listen to them.”
Happy Saturday! I hope you’re not working today. And that you don’t have a huge list of errands to run.
As for me, I plan to rush through my To Do List, get in a quick swim, and then head to my dd’s house to watch something spooky. Probably The Witch. I want a no-stress day after a week of chasing my tail and writing like a fiend.
This week, I finished one project, which is now in review/edits, but should be released early next week: With His Rock Band. Lots of naughty, over-the-top sexiness there! And I’m nearing the end of tweaks of my next SEAL story, Before We Kiss. It releases the 20th. If you haven’t already pre-ordered it, you should!
Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of these stories! I’ll choose
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And if you haven’t read my shorties, check out the full list here!
The Morning Ride
A New York commuter shares lustful daydreams with another subway passenger…
Sophie played with the curls she’d formed in her hair, hoping he’d appreciate all the care she’d taken with her appearance. She wore a demure, sleeveless cloudy blue blouse, a slim navy skirt and tights—monochromatic colors were supposed to be slimming, and she wanted to be perfect. He was picking her up at her place, their first real date after a week of morning coffees.
Everything was going great. They’d agreed to take an earlier train each morning so they could stretch their daily meetings. They talked rapidly, in blurted confessions, then sat quietly drinking their coffee. Every day when they parted, he kissed her, each kiss more passionate than the one before. This morning, he’d drawn her hips close to his, and she’d felt his erection against her belly. He hadn’t minded when she’d pressed against it; his fingers bit into her hips.
He hadn’t said where he was taking her, but she hoped he didn’t have reservations he wouldn’t want to break. She’d spent the afternoon cleaning her apartment, changing her sheets, because she wanted him to stay. It was time to find out if reality matched fantasy.
Her doorbell rang and sent her heart racing. When she swung open the door, he was dressed casually in a long-sleeved, heather-colored Henley and jeans. In his hands were bags bearing the name of her favorite Thai restaurant.
His gaze slid down her skirt and silk blouse then back up. Heat glittered in his eyes. “I should have told you not to dress up. Sorry you went to the bother.”
She shook her head and spun. “Do you like it?”
“Very much.”
“Then it was worth the effort.” She pointed to the single button at the side of her skirt. “That’s all that’s holding it up.”
His chest rose. “Sophie, I’m trying to take this slow.”
She cocked a brow as she took the bags and walked to her kitchenette. “Bringing dinner to my apartment where we can be alone, that’s slow?”
He wrinkled his nose. “I was hoping to get to second base on the sofa.”
She laughed and reached for his hand. “We’ll eat after we’ve worked up an appetite.” Then she walked backwards down the short hallway to her bedroom. A single light shone on the stand next to her bed. The covers were turned down. “I was hoping you’d get considerably farther than second base.”
Daniel gave her a look that sent a rush of fluid to her pussy. His gaze was sharp, his cheeks tightening to blades. He gathered her closer, pulling her body against his, and bent his head.
She rose on tiptoe and met his kiss, winding her arms around his neck.
He raised her skirt, grabbed handfuls of her ass, and lifted her. She wound her legs around his waist and held tightly as he walked to her bed.
He came over her, roaming his hands over her clothing, squeezing her breasts, her hips, coming up between her legs to glide over her sex.
Sophie made a sound, a tiny mew, and he leaned away. “Too many clothes?”
She nodded, reaching for his shirt to drag it up partway until he pulled it over his head. His skin was pale as a stock-broker’s should be, but nicely muscled. Hair cloaked his chest, not too thickly, just right. She combed her fingers through it then circled his small nipples.
“You said there was a button.”
She guided his hand to her side and waited as he unbuttoned her skirt then unwrapped her like a present.
He stared at her tights.
“Not very convenient,” she said grinning.
“Not a problem.” He crawled off the bed then leaned over her, sliding his fingers under the waistband of her tights and peeling them down. When he bared her pussy, his gaze snagged, but he lingered longer staring at her thighs. “I’ve imagined them so many times. They’re lovely, rounded.”
She held her breath. Yes, she was carrying too much weight, and most of it landed on her butt and thighs. But his tightening expression signaled arousal. She came up on her elbows to watch him drag the tights the rest of the way off.
His gaze darted to her face then back to her pussy. He reached out and wrapped his fingers around her ankles and pulled her sideways until her legs dangled off the side of the bed. “Take off your blouse.”
She sat up, reached behind her to open the button at her neck, then pulled off her blouse. Before he could ask, she opened her bra and drew it down her arms.
His chest rose. His hands went to his belt and he unbuckled it, opened his pants, and pushed them down his legs. When he straightened, she felt a little dizzy. He was large. Just as he’d been in her dream. Thick and curving upward.
He bent over her, scooped her mouth with his, then pushed her backward, lowering to take a sprung nipple in his mouth. He suctioned, drawing until her toes curled, then backed off to tease her with flutters of his tongue.
“They’re pink. I knew they’d be pink,” he said, kissing across her chest to capture the other nipple.
She petted his thick hair, combing it and digging her nails into his scalp when he nibbled her tip.
Then he backed away again, going to his knees and spreading hers. He draped her thighs over his shoulders and kissed her inner thigh, an outer lip, before burrowing into her, his tongue licking around her entrance then plunging inside while he tweaked her clit with his fingers.
“Daniel,” she said, groaning. Reality was so much better.
When he rose again, he shifted her, urging her to the center of the bed. He cloaked himself then turned her and licked a hot trail down her spine. At her bottom, he bit each cheek. Just hard enough to make her quiver. He kissed her cunt and moved behind her, his cock prodding her, then plunging into her.
Sophie screamed, unraveling in a moment. His girth stretched her, his length plundered. Moisture flooded her channel as she bounced back to greet his strokes.
A clap landed on one side of her ass. Loud, but not really hard. It surprised her, made her freeze.
He leaned over back and whispered in her ear. “Did you like that, Sophie? Do you want another?”
Her pussy flooded with moisture, as much from the silky texture of his voice as the warmth of her ass. “Please.”
This wasn’t my intended post for the blog today. My intended post was titled, “Death by Laundry” and was about the escapades of the weekend with my daughter’s abundance of clothes. Before I got around to sending the post to Delilah, I got news that a friend had died of cancer. It shocked me because I didn’t know how close she was to the end and it broke my heart because she was so young, was such a beautiful person, and should have had her whole life ahead of her. So I decided to pay tribute to Jill Bronson Fillion in the best way I know, through my writing.
The tribute dates back to a year ago, when I had a story in my head about a strong, independent, caring woman who moves back to her childhood hometown and gets a second chance with her first love. The character had been born, but she needed a name.
I can’t write a story about nameless characters, so while I thought about it, I puttered around Facebook. As I scrolled through my newsfeed, I found a post from Jill, reminiscing about a post she’d shared a year earlier and celebrating her present health. While my heroine’s story was very different from Jill’s own story, the two women shared a lot of the same qualities: strength, resilience, a big heart, a bright smile. It was perfect, I would name the character Jill and pay tribute to a woman who seemed to have beaten cancer.
After I published Marrying for Love, I made plans to meet up with the real-life Jill to give her a copy of the book. To further pay tribute, I dedicated it to her and her brave fight against cancer. She was honored and my only regret is I didn’t have my picture taken with her.
I knew her cancer had returned and I knew the prognosis was grim, I just didn’t realize how far down the road she’d traveled. My heart broke when I heard the news today that she died on September 3rd. I can’t imagine the sadness her family feels…her husband, her son, her sister, her parents. She was a bright soul in an often dark world who fought a brave fight against a disease she didn’t deserve.
Jill isn’t the only one who has honored me by being a namesake to a character in my Superstitious Brides series. In my August 30th release, 3rd Trip to the Altar, I named the heroine Tristin after a former colleague who was killed in 2011 in a freak bicycle accident. I was inspired to write 3rd Trip while listening to a radio dedication on my way to walk in Tristin’s Live Laugh Love Memorial 5K. In the book, Tristin’s best friend Cynthia Munn was named in honor of two friends battling breast cancer, both of whom started their fight in the exact same month over 18 months ago.
And since we are talking names, my daughter has the honor of naming most of the pets in these books, so when you meet Jill’s dog Buttercup (Marrying for Love), Maddie’s horse Crystal (For the Love of Chocolate), Brent’s raccoon Rascal (3rd Trip to the Altar), Courtney’s dog Humphrey (The Perfect Pairing, available in the Romancing the Wine box set), Clairissa’s yet to be named yellow labs (Taking Back Good-bye, coming in October), and Clint’s dog Digger (Mistletoe Marathon, coming November 1 in Spicy Christmas Kisses 2).
Be at peace, Jill. I will think of your smile and kind heart every time Jill Butler-Hale makes an appearance in my Superstitious Brides series.
By the way, Jill is in EVERY book in the series, so grab your copy to honor this brave woman.
I’m giving away a copy of Tall, Dark, & Loaded, the Billionaire Boyfriends box set in which Marrying for Love was originally published with five other novellas. To enter the drawing, complete the form linked here. If you are in the U.S., I’ll also send a signed copy of Marrying for Love.
Here’s an excerpt from The Perfect Pairing that features Jill.
Courtney found Jill and Austin in the kitchen, each with a cup in their hands, courtesy of Cyn. She was always the gracious hostess, even when heading out the door.
“Good morning. Sorry, I overslept.”
“So I heard,” Jill cooed. “Making out with your boss will do that to a girl.”
Oh, she was so going to kill Cyn for that one. “It was the wine.”
“Don’t blame the wine. You need a little nooky, Courtney.”
“Oh my gosh, I don’t need…”
“Can we get down to business?” Austin cut in, saving the day. “We need to hit the road.”
Jill laughed. “Come on, babe, we talked about this and you agreed that Courtney needed to loosen up a bit. Nooky is the perfect way to unwind.”
“You think I’m uptight?” she asked.
“Not uptight. Focused,” Austin insisted.
“I’m close to finishing my degree. I need to be focused.”
“And I commend you for it,” Austin said, clearly trying to stay neutral. “Now, you ready to meet Humphrey?”
“Yes, please. Where he is?”
“Erik’s got him out in the field. Poor guy is a mess. His fur is all nappy and matted and he is malnourished, but he has spunk. You’ll love him.”
Jill jabbed her husband in the side with her elbow. “He’s very affectionate. Like I said, you’ll love him.”
Courtney would be the first to admit she had trust issues, but Jill had become a good friend, one Courtney trusted implicitly except when it came to how she described the pets she needed Courtney to foster. Every single one of them had had an issue that no one in their right mind would want to deal with. Based on Austin’s snicker, Humphrey had some sort of issue too.
“Here’s all the information we were able to gather. I trust you’ll get it into the database.”
“Of course,” Courtney replied, taking the handwritten notes. She had created the database for the rescue as a project for her Green Marketing course. The shelter now operated paperless, saving them money on ink, paper, and other office supplies while being able to brag about being an environmentally friendly non-profit. Jill was still old-school, though, and kept a small notebook instead of using one of the tablets.
“He can’t be left alone,” Jill added as Courtney skimmed the notes. “He needs a little food and water every hour. We have a crate for him. You’ll want to put him in that even if you’re only going to the bathroom. He’s a runner, so keep him on a leash when you take him out.”
“Got it.” Courtney stuffed the note in her pocket and started for the door. She wanted to be to work early, so didn’t want to waste any more time.
She saw Erik out in the field, but the grass was too tall to spot the dog. Austin called to his son and Erik came running. When they reached the lawn, which was freshly cut, the little ragamuffin dog appeared, keeping pace with his running mate.
Cyn was right, the little terrier was adorable, but as they got closer, Courtney saw how right Jill was too. He was in desperate need of some grooming and food. “Do you know how old he is?”
Jill shook her head. “Not sure, but Clarissa said she’d stop by to check him out anytime this weekend. Just give her a call.”
Clarissa Dean was their friend and local veterinarian who offered her services free of charge to the rescue. “Will do. I have to work today, but I’ll work something out with her.”
Erik slowed to a walk and handed the leash off to Jill before stepping back. Austin stepped back too. “What’s going on?”
“Just giving you some space to get to know him,” Austin said. Based on Erik’s chuckle, Courtney knew there was more to it than that, but the dog just licked her face and wagged his tail. Nothing out of the ordinary there.
“Jilly, we need to get going,” Austin said.
“Right. Good luck. We’ll be back next Sunday, but call if there are any problems.”
“I can handle it,” Courtney assured Jill.
“I know you can. Have fun. Keep me posted on things with your boss.”
“Nothing to keep you posted on,” she replied, turning her attention to Austin. “That reminds me. You don’t have any Black Vines wines on your wine list at the tavern.”
“I tried, but Neil had an ax to grind with my father, and therefore with me. He said he’d be dead and buried before any of his wines were offered at the Hale.”
“Well, Aiden wants to change that.”
“Good. Call Sadie and set up a meeting.”
“Thank you,” Courtney said, her cheeks aching from the smile. She knew Austin would be receptive and couldn’t wait to get to work and let Aiden know.
Erik grabbed the small crate from Austin’s shiny truck and handed it off to Courtney.
She debated whether to call Aiden and ask permission to bring Humphrey to work or to just show up. As she’d learned in the air force, it was better to ask forgiveness than permission, so Courtney put the pup in his crate and jumped in the shower. When she was dressed in slacks, a more practical pair of shoes, and a nice blouse, she headed out the door, only to realize she didn’t have a car, or a ride.
About the Author
Big dreamer and certifiable overachiever Susan Ann Wall embraces life at full speed and volume. She’s a beer and tea snob, can be bribed with dark chocolate, and the #1 thing on her bucket list is to be the center of a Bon Jovi flash mob.
Susan is a national bestselling, multi-genre author of racy, rule-breaking romance and women’s fiction. Her bragging rights include the Fighting Back for Love series, Puget Sound ~ Alive With Love series, Superstitious Brides Romance series, Sunset Valley Women’s Fiction series (coming soon), and Devon Taggart Suspense series. She also likes to boast about her three perfect children, two amazing rescue dogs, and a happily ever after that started while serving in the U.S. Army and has spanned two decades (which is crazy since she’s not a day over 29).
In her next life, Susan plans to be a 5 foot 10, size 8 rock star married to a chiropractor and will not be terrified of large bridges, spiders, or quiet people (shiver).
UPDATE: The winner of the free Lone Star Lover book is…Tami Czenkus!
* * * * *
Depending on how long you’ve been reading me, you might not be aware of my naughty cowboy ménage series, Lone Star Lovers. There are nine books, so far. And I do plan more because I can’t stop writing them. All my sexiest fantasies are rolled up in those stories. Two cowboys, three cowboys, four… All that attention on one lucky girl… Feel the heat. Read a snippet from Reined In.
Comment for a chance to win your choice of
one of myLone Star Loversbooks!
Reined In
Who says a cowgirl can’t have it all?
Lone Star Lovers, Book 7
Stormy is a rancher’s daughter through and through, and although she went away to college, her soul is firmly rooted in home ground—and the cowboys she grew up tormenting. When she hears her father might be selling the ranch, she packs her bags and high tails it for home, terrified she might never get another chance to lasso the heart of one of her cowboys before the hands scatter to the four winds.
For Cam and Joe, foreman and wrangler on the ranch, Stormy was a pain in the seat of their Wranglers. But when she roars back onto the ranch, the spoiled brat they remember emerges from the cloud of dust in skin-tight jeans and spike heels and all grown up.
It only takes a hot second to figure out she’s hell-bent on seduction. But if she thinks they’re going to make it easy for her to pick which cowboy she wants most, she’s sadly mistaken. And who says she has to choose one?
Warning: Contains cowboy-style spanking, flogging, and hog-tying. And a cowgirl who loves every minute of it.
Cam gave him a glare but gentled his expression when he turned back to Stormy. “You didn’t call before you came. Seems like this trip was rushed. Why don’t you tell us what really brought you here, sweetheart?”
Joe nearly groaned at Cam’s direct approach. Stormy would shut down faster than a burger joint at midnight if dared to tell the truth without a little persuasion.
Stormy shrugged, a pout pushing out her lower lip. “I graduated a month ago. I’m considerin’ my options. Maybe I just needed a break to think.”
“The ranch is a long way from Austin,” Cam said softly. “What’s this really about?”
Stormy’s mouth dropped open and then snapped closed again. Her gaze narrowed.
Joe knew from that look that she was getting ready to let lose some smartass comment—out of habit—to protect her pride. But Joe didn’t want her to keep her armor in place or tell them a lie. She needed a little push. Something to cloud her mind before she thought of another lame excuse. He was pretty damn sure he knew exactly why she’d run straight to the ranch.
He leaned toward her, crowding her against the counter. He set his beer aside, plucked hers from her nerveless fingers and then bracketed her slender body as he clenched the edge of the counter. “I promise if you tell the truth, you might get what you’re after,” he drawled.
She swallowed hard, her gaze widening, clinging to his.
He slid a thigh between her bare legs. They clamped around him. But to keep him from raising it higher or to hold him there? He couldn’t tell.
Her lips parted and her breaths shortened.
“Am I botherin’ you?”
She swallowed hard and flashed him a glare. “When don’t you bother me, cowboy?”
Since she hadn’t shoved him away, he pressed harder, bending his neck so his face hovered over hers. She clenched her thighs tighter around his knee. “Disappointed I didn’t punish you on the spot when you ground your heel into my hand?”
She hesitated and then tossed back her silky hair. “I did wonder why you held back,” she said, sounding a little out of breath. “You’re always quick to jump down my throat.”
“Oh, I wanna come down your throat all right.”
Cam snorted beside them, drawing both their gazes. “Shall I leave you two alone?”
“Why?” Joe asked, his gaze dropping to Stormy’s again. “She’s not shy. Fact is, I think Peaches wants us both here. Don’t you, sugar?”
This time, her eyes rounded and welled with tears.
Cam muttered under his breath.
But Joe wasn’t ready to relent. Not when damp heat soaked the top of his jeans-clad thigh. “There’s no shame in tellin’ the truth,” he whispered. “We’ve both been waitin’ a long time for you to grow up. All you have to do is tell us you’re ready.”
She licked her bottom lip, pretty Peaches with her face devoid of makeup and pretense, looking impossibly lovely and young—and afraid.
“Baby, for once, tell me the truth.”
“I’m not sure what I want, or even who I want,” she whispered.
Joe quirked up one side of his mouth and leaned closer, his mouth an inch from hers. “Now that’s a lie. You kissed him.” He arched a brow. “Think I didn’t know? I watched. But you liked it when I spanked you too. Both those things happened a long time ago, but you’ve thought about us, haven’t you?”
She nodded, her breaths growing more ragged by the moment.
“It’s okay to tell us,” Joe said, his voice deeper now, raspier. “Do you want us both?”
“Joe,” Cam said, anger in his tone.
Joe shook his head, not looking away from Stormy’s widening eyes. “Cam, you just wait. We’re friends. I love you like a brother. But I want her—just as bad as you do. And Peaches here—she’s enough woman to handle us both. I’d stake my next paycheck on that fact.” The way the pupils in her silver-blue eyes dilated confirmed it. “Sweetheart, you wanna find out if that’s true?”
A thin moan broke from her lips, and Joe bent to capture it, pressing his mouth against hers and forcing his thigh higher, rubbing it against her pussy.
She pushed against his chest for all of a second and then glided her hands up to cup the back of his head, her fingers threading through his hair and pulling.
Joe groaned into her mouth and thrust his tongue inside.
She’d brushed her teeth before she’d left her room. She tasted like mint. Her body quivered, vibrating against him, and more liquid wet his knee. Her thighs squeezed around him, grinding down, and he was lost.
He clamped his hands around her waist and pulled her from the counter, then slid them down to cup her ass. He dug his fingers into the soft, sweet curves he’d fantasized about for years. The kiss deepened. Her tongue stroked his and their mouths rubbed in slow, melting circles.
A throat cleared beside them, and Joe broke the kiss, breathing hard as he stared into her face. Two spots of color blazed across her cheeks. Their heads turned slowly, reluctantly, toward Cam.
Joe knew what he had to do, but letting go of her ass nearly made him weep. His fingers clung for a moment longer and then loosened. He slid to her side, a hand cupping a full breast. “Cam’s turn,” he whispered in her ear.
I am a very visual person. Often, I’ll begin a story based on picture. That picture will usually inspire a title, first. From there, the rest is magic. My brain takes off from that initial picture, whether it’s art I found on a stock photo website or an image I dreamed.
So, let’s play a game today. Consider the picture above, your “writer’s prompt”. Your stepping-off point into a story. I don’t expect you to write paragraphs. A single line will do. For instance, when I saw this picture, my first imagining was: “I dropped the bag of groceries on the counter then turned toward the open door, ready to go back for another bag, when a bright light shone—a moment before the house shuddered and the floor shifted beneath my feet.”
That’s all I have. You can have that “Close Encounters” moment. A flashlight beam. Whatever. And you don’t have to make it pretty! Play today for a chance to win a $5 Amazon gift card! Have fun!
Ready for something hot and quick to read this weekend? I have just the thing—a sexy little story about a woman who purchases an estate that comes with a butler she didn’t know she needed…
Enjoy stepping inside Kendall’s world as the butler teaches her the true meaning of service…
The Butler is just $0.99! And if you are a Kindle Unlimited subscriber, you can pick up a copy for free!
Plus, if you tell me your Saturday plans, whether it’s kicking back with a sexy story or grocery shopping, you’ll be entered to win a small Amazon gift card!
The Butler
Yes, the butler did it!
When a newly wealthy woman purchases a remote estate in Virginia, a butler comes with the contract. His subtle manipulations fuel a desire she never expected.
Melanie Bradshaw is driven to desperation by her torrid dreams. When she finally acts on her desires, things go horribly wrong, and she witnesses the murder of an overly amorous lounge lizard–whose body disintegrates before her eyes.
Detective Moses Brown isn’t thrilled to get another “full-moon case”…until he meets the delectable Melanie, who took a walk on the wild side straight into vampire territory. Moses doesn’t know why vamps are interested in her, but until he can discover the reason, he’s going to stick to her like glue, doing his best to ignore their instant attraction.
But pretty little Melanie has designs on his body. Her hunger for sex is voracious, even downright insatiable. As the mystery surrounding her begins to unravel, keeping her safe–hell, keeping himself safe from her–presents some interesting complications…
Grant stepped into the doorway, one of his small smiles curving his perfect, firm lips. “I was passing by, is there anything I can do for you?”
He rarely asked anymore. Was simply there, with whatever I needed. Hearing his voice, so deep and even, I was filled with the almost overwhelming urge to ask him to give me an orgasm.
Instead, I moved to make sure the computer screen, filled with a smutty love scene, was hidden behind me. “Do you like this room, Grant?”
He arched a brow, wariness entering his expression until his neutral mask fell into place. “Is there something that doesn’t please you? Do you need a lamp at your desk?”
Pursing my lips and narrowing my eyes, I stared. It had been a while since I’d been engaged in another of his manipulations over furnishings. The thought of engaging in one now made my nipples prickle. “There are too many books,” I said, and then grinned. I couldn’t help it. An edgy horniness was willing me to misbehave.
“It is a library, ma’am,” he said, his tone dry.
“Kendall, Grant. We share a house. You can use my name.”
“I’m in your service, ma’am.”
I blew out a breath and wished instantly that I’d bothered to slick my lips with something more dramatic than a pale gloss.
His head tilted to the side, those intelligent green eyes narrowing. “Ma’am, are you bored?”
“And if I am?”
“There are horses in the stable…”
I gave a long dramatic sigh. “It’s cold outside.”
“I could build you a fire in the hearth, bring you a brandy.”
A warm fire, brandy, him naked on a soft, sheepskin rug… I straightened and shook my head to clear the image. I didn’t dare let my thoughts stray any further. “A fire and a glass of brandy would be nice. Maybe you could choose something for me to read,” I murmured. “Something without too many big words.”
His lips pressed together, but then he chuckled. “All right then, a fire, a brandy, and a good book…without too many big words. Ma’am.”
I grinned back at him, feeling comfortable with his amusement and attention for the first time. “This house was too much for me, wasn’t it? I don’t know why I bought it.”
“You have good taste,” he said, rubbing his hands together and entering the room. He strode for the fireplace, set three logs in the stand at the center of the large hearth, and placed kindling beneath it. Minutes later flame licked at the bottoms of the logs.
Moving toward a walnut sideboard, he poured a snifter of brandy, swirling it as he cupped the base to warm the liquid. “Would you like to move to the couch?”
I stood, my body feeling fluid, my hips swaying as I approached him. Our gazes locked, and then his flicked downward to the glass he held.
“Why not pour one for yourself?” I said softly. “Join me.”
Again, his gaze narrowed, but he gave a slow nod. “If it pleases you.”
“It does.”
Together, we settled on the dark leather, on opposite ends, me with my knees drawn up and sitting sideways to stare at him, while Grant sat, one arm draped on the back, the other holding his glass, his gaze studying me.
Suddenly, I was uncomfortable. Didn’t the man know how to make polite conversation? Or did he really want to be somewhere else? Irritated, I said, “You should ask me how the writing is going?”
He arched a brow. “How is the writing going?”
I nodded my approval. “Slowly. I thought I’d be able to write with the peace and quiet in the country.”
“But you’re bored.”
“Not precisely…”
“Not precisely bored…?”
“I keep thinking about your butler’s buttons,” I blurted, letting my gaze drift away as a blush warmed my cheeks.
“As a clue or a thread in your story?”
I shook my head. “I guess the problem is that for the most part we’re alone in this house. You off in your quarters. Me, alone, in mine.”
His head rose then slowly dipped. “I see.”
Did he really?
“You haven’t used the buttons. Not once.”
Why, oh why, had I mentioned the damn buttons? It was as though I’d released the floodgate holding back my words. The next sentence escaped before I could hit the edit button. “Because I’m afraid I’ll be tempted to use them for more than the…customary services.”
“As you’ve said,” he murmured. “We’re alone in this house. And I am here to serve…”
I know you wanted the old Spice Girls song in your head first thing this morning! In fact, the video’s at the bottom of this page in case you really, really want a quick SG-fix. 🙂
Four of my most recent stepbrother shorties have shot straight to #1 on the short read list on Amazon. But I’m not certain what the attraction is. Do readers love the short, inexpensive (just $0.99) format, the taboo stepbrother angle, or the menage theme? Or all three?
Readers have been asking me for more of Sara and Hunter’s story in With His SEAL Team, in particular. And I do plan a sequel, or maybe more, of stories featuring those two and their extended, sexy SEAL family. Sara still has to find a job she likes and that doesn’t make Hunter crazy. And what about Harley and his rehabilitation?
So, I have these questions. And because I like more than anything in the world to please my readers, I’m asking you what you really, really want. Take this poll. You can choose up to four different answers. If you don’t see an answer you like, write your preference in the comments.
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Contest
Win a free shorty from my short story webpage by simply leaving a comment. You can either tell me the kind of story you want most or tell me which of my stepbrother stories you’ve liked the most. I’ll choose three winners!
Happy Saturday! I hope you’re not working today. And that you don’t have a huge list of errands to run.
After I published 
I’m giving away a copy of 
Here’s an excerpt from The Perfect Pairing that features Jill.
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