Welcome to my first Six Sentence Sunday post!

These six sentences are from my most recent release, Rule of Three:

I don’t think I can do this. The words seemed loud in her head, but she hadn’t spoken them out loud. Determination to be bad, to show Dag, the rebel, she could be bad too, mingled with a desire to equally prove to Chris that she wasn’t shocked by the revelation about his past, and she was just as up for naughty fun as he was.

But uncertainty weakened her knees, made her hands tremble. She had no idea what to do. The arousal that had heated her earlier had been crowded out by nerves.

Faceoff will be out September 9!

Faceoff is a spin-off story from Breakaway. As you may know, the hero in Breakaway, Jason Heller, has three brothers. This is oldest brother Tag Heller's story. It's set in the off season, so there isn't a lot of hockey in it, but it's still about a hot hockey player during a hot summer week at the cottage.

I wrote this novella for the "Oh Canada" theme series at Ellora's Cave and it is a true Canadian fantasy - not just the sexy fantasy but the HOCKEY fantasy! The story features the long-awaited return of an NHL team to a city that was devastated to lose their team years ago. Yes, it's based in reality, and as I was writing the "fantasy" the story actually came true! Okay, not exactly as it is in my book, but the book is fiction after all.

Here's a tiny sneak peek at Faceoff - here are Tag and Kyla at the beach after he's just rubbed sunscreen onto her in a super sexy massage:

He went to his knees beside her, scooped his arms beneath her and lifted her. “Tag! Put me down!”

“Want to get dropped into the water or want to walk?”

“I’ll walk!”

He lowered her until her feet touched the soft warm sand. “Okay.”

She followed them into the water, wading through it up to her knees, the shallow water pleasantly cool on her heated skin. She kept walking, the water climbing higher and higher, and when it touched her stomach, she tightened her belly muscles and went on her toes. Tag turned to look at her, the water still at his thighs because of his height. He grinned. “Coming, Mac?”

She gave him a look, up through her eyelashes, as if to say, I just did, remember? His eyes darkened and her heart fluttered. Was she really going to go to his tent tonight?

“It’s cold,” she said.

“Yeah, and I need that,” he muttered. And he strode further out, then jumped to do a shallow, perfect dive. She sighed once more at the male perfection of his body, his athletic grace. And taking a deep breath, she too dove under. Cool water closed over her head, shocking her body, stealing her breath, and she emerged with a gasp. But it didn’t take long to get used to the water and she rolled to her back and floated, staring up at the blue sky and the clouds gathering right along the horizon.

“There you go,” he said. “Swimming’s good exercise.”

She kicked her feet and splashed him a little. “Why are you trying to get me to exercise?”

“It’s good for you. It’s good for your body and your mind. And your soul. Actually the best exercise for all that is sex.”

She almost sucked in a mouthful of lake water. “Okay then!” She rolled and dove beneath the surface again, kicking hard. When she came up for air, she heard him laughing. She couldn’t resist turning to look at him, at the water glistening in his hair, his eyes gleaming, his wide mouth parted in a sexy smile that tugged a curl of heat inside her.

Oh god. What was he trying to do to her? He’d practically seduced her there on the beach, touching her like that, so intimately, and her pussy clenched at the memory. Now he was flirting with her.

Maybe he was right. Maybe some hot sex in a tent was just what she needed.

In honour of National Orgasm Day, here is a short excerpt from my book Power Shift, featuring...what else?

He moved again, grabbed her hips and lifted them off the bed, and then his cock probed at her entrance and she pushed back into his groin greedily. “Easy,” he murmured, one hand on the middle of her back between her shoulder blades, holding her down. “Easy, sweetheart.”

The head of his cock stroked up and down between her cheeks, for a moment resting on her anus, thick and heavy, making her shudder with forbidden pleasure. Then he directed his cock to her pussy, probing again, stretching her tissues, pushing into her, filling her with such delicious sweetness. In this submissive pose, hands bound and stretched above her head, his hands holding her hips up to him while he fucked her from behind, she could only submit to it, couldn’t fight it. She gave herself over to it and just sank into it, the edgy euphoria, the dark pleasure.

“So hot,” he groaned, sliding out and then back in with agonizing slowness. “So hot and so damn wet. Christ, Reagan. There’s no way you can tell me that didn’t affect you.”

That was true, but mainly because she couldn’t even speak at that moment, her body so sensitized and her mind so drunk on pleasure.

He slid a hand around her belly, cupped her pussy, so very lovely, his fingers playing with her clit. She jerked against him, cried out, sensation filling her, pressure building inside her, expanding all through her body, burning her from the inside out and the outside in.

He held her as he drove into her in hard, pounding strokes, shaking her body, touching nerve endings inside her that had her head lifting, had her crying out. His hand slid up her back, fisted her hair and tugged, and that final touch sent sensation sizzling from her scalp right to her womb and then it all burst, with cataclysmic force. Blistering pleasure tore through her, dazzling her in the darkness of the blindfold. She cried out again and then he went very still, uttering harsh noises that gratified her and intensified everything, every erotic, electric sensation. He fell over her, his body damp with perspiration against her back, and sank his teeth into the back of her neck, holding her like that, his arms beneath her, as if he were claiming her in some kind of primitive animalistic gesture. It thrilled her to her core.

His breath ragged in her ear, she drifted in and out, unsure how long they stayed like that until he moved away from her, leaving her body sweaty and cool. She lay there, still heady and floating.

Okay I don't know if I ever did a sneak peek for this book - Power Shift. I think I was waiting for the contract to get all signed and sealed but we had a small problem due to the postal strike here and I ended up having to resend it to the Ellora's Cave office. I don't have my copy back yet, but apparently it arrived and we've already started edits, so I think we're good to go!

This could be Gabe

The hero of Power Shift is Gabe Pejovic. You may remember him from Power Struggle -- he was the Master Dom of Le Chateau who was Tori's play partner and then helped her and Dev figure things out. A number of readers and reviewers commented that he should have his own story, and I thought so too, so this is it!

I'll write more about this book closer to release (the date of which I do not know, but I expect it won't be too long) but for now here's a tiny unedited excerpt:

The bathroom door opened and light spilled briefly into the room before he flicked the light off and walked back toward her. He was incredibly beautiful, big, strong, his body perfect-male shaped, wide at the shoulders, narrow at the hips. His face was in shadow as he approached her and she watched, made herself sit still despite all her confusion and misgivings.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stopping in front of her.

She had to force herself not to stare at his groin, which was where she wanted to look. Even unaroused, he was impressive, his cock resting on his testicles, still thick and beautiful. She tilted her head back and met his eyes.

“You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “But you could tell me what happened.”

His mouth tightened just slightly, his face drawn into austere lines. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh Gabe.” She reached for his hand, so big, calloused on the palms, rough on the fingertips, so masculine and strong. She pulled him forward and he sat beside her. “Just talk to me. Tell me what you were feeling. You know...” She hesitated.

“What?”

“I could take it personally. I could think that you had big regrets about sleeping with me.”

“Christ no!” His shock reassured her, gave her confidence to push forward.

“But you can see why I might think that.” She still held his hand, in both hers, rubbing her thumbs over the back of it.

He sighed.

“So for that reason alone, I deserve to know it wasn’t me,” she continued. “Right?”

“Oh Reagan.” He sighed. “There are thing about me...you don’t want to know.”

“Oh.” She considered that. Truthfully, she didn’t need anyone else’s crap dumped on her. She had enough of her own. And yet...she’d found an amazing way of dealing with her own problems had been by helping others. And also...she found she wanted to know. And wanted to make things better for him. Was this one more challenge in her journey? “So did I just sleep with a psycho? Or is it your midlife crisis again?”

He choked on a laugh and her insides warmed that she’d made him do that. “I’m not a psycho, but I am a bit fucked up.”

She sighed. “Jeez, Gabe, aren’t we all?”

It's been a great week! Three of my books were reviewed at Sizzling Hot Book Reviews - all of them wonderful reviews! Check them out:  Sexpresso Night, Taming Tara and Rigger.

Also  - another contract offer!! This means I now have three more books "coming soon" so I'm really happy about that.  As usual, I don't like to share details until all is signed and sealed so stay tuned, but I will share a little sneak peek excerpt from Rule of Three (and can I just add, after the contract offer I reread this book, and it is HOT!):

            Then Chris was striding toward them, joining them on the dance floor. He pressed against her back, his erection hard against her, and nuzzled her neck. The three of them danced together, hard bodies pressed against her front and back.

            Chris pulled her hair aside to mutter in her ear. “That was so fucking sexy.” She pressed her ass back against him, tightened her fingers on Dag’s shoulders.

            “Your girlfriend is hot, Chris,” Dag said.

            “I know.”

            The music picked up pace again and they continued dancing, still close, just changing the tempo. Heat sizzled up and down Kassidy’s spine and she felt hypnotized by the beat of the music, the hot desire of two men, lost in the utter sensuality of it. She lifted one arm above her head and hooked it around Chris’s neck, four hands on her body. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tingled. She ached to be touched there.

            By the time they decided to leave the dance floor, every nerve ending in her body was on fire, sizzling and snapping with sexual tension.

            The three of them sat on the couch side by side again, damp with perspiration and a little breathless. Some of their friends had already left, others had disappeared perhaps into the crowd on the dance floor, and they were alone. Chris set his hand on her bare thigh and picked up his drink with his other hand.

            “I should get going,” Dag said. “I’ll come by for my car tomorrow.”

            “Why don’t you just stay at our place again?” Chris said. “Saves you a trip tomorrow.”

Kassidy’s blood surged in her veins, hot and scary, as she waited for Dag’s response. A response that seemed...significant. Weighty. A response that took forever.

            “Okay,” Dag finally said.

Happy Friday everyone!  I'm so glad it's the weekend because seriously, I'm still in a fog after RT last week. I had no idea a few nights of sleep deprivation could mess with my mind so badly!

Here's a little peek at a recently completed manuscript of which I will soon have news to share!! This is an unedited excerpt from Power Shift:

She scraped her fingernails across his scalp, eliciting a groan, and then she lifted her mouth from his, kissed her way over his scratchy cheek and jaw and bent her head to his shoulder. She opened her mouth on the fleshy part, sucked a little and then gently bit down.


His body twitched hard. “Christ,” he gasped, his hands tightening on her. “Reagan.”

She smiled, licked the spot and moved her mouth, using her teeth again, a little harder, driven by some unknown force, some unknown need to do this to him. He jerked and shivered and then his hand fisted in her hair and he yanked her head back. The sharp bite of pain on her scalp sent thrilling sensations right to her core. Another secret trigger.

She gazed back at him, their eyes meeting in the dim light, meeting and holding...and holding. She smiled a little, almost challenging him. His eyes flickered, his lips parted...she couldn’t read the expression on his face but a tiny frisson of alarm worked its way through her. He was big and strong and dominant, and she was playing a risky game with a man she barely knew. And yet...she felt safe.

Sort of.

It wasn’t Gabe she was afraid of but rather the intensity of the feelings he’d excited in her, a sharp arousal like she’d never experienced, a fierce lust, an almost protective tenderness. It was all kind of...confusing.

His eyelids lowered, so sexy, his mouth softened. “I’m not sure if I like that,” he said.

“What are you going to do about it?” God, where did that come from?

His eyes darkened, the long dark lashes sweeping back up. “Behave, Reagan. You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

He was right. But whatever it was, she wanted it. Her mouth softened and pouted a little, wanting more kissing. “I’m a big girl,” she said. “I can handle whatever you dish out.”

He studied her, assessing her, and she held his gaze as long as she could before she had to drop her eyes, just briefly, blinking at his chest.

This week from the WIP (Work in Progress) which once again sadly has no title. It will come to me at some point. :-) It's about a chef. And a wacky interior designer. I'm having fun with Bradan and Mirelle!

****

“You hugged Jerick Ellard the other night.”


Her eyes widened. “What!”

“You hugged him.” His jaw tightened. “You obviously were friends with him and he was a client.” Christ, he sounded like a petulant little boy.

She laughed. “What the hell are you talking about?”

He felt his chin jut out. He stepped closer. “You said we could be friends. The other night.”

“You want me to hug you?” she asked incredulously.

Yeah. Oh hell, yeah. But probably best not to answer that one out loud. He stepped closer and reached out to lift a stray golden strand of hair away from her face, moving it behind her shoulder, taking the opportunity to let his fingers stroke over her soft hair and then brush across her shoulder. “I just want to be friends.”

“Friends.” The word came out on a breath.

“Sure.” He was lying. Through his teeth. He dragged his fingertips up the side of her neck, sliding under her hair where she was so warm, her skin peachy-soft, letting his thumb skim over her small chin, then her bottom lip. Her scent drifted toward him, vanilla and lemon and sugar. It made his mouth water, made him want to inhale her, eat her up. Her eyes darkened as she continued to stare at him. He didn’t just want to be friends with her. He wanted to bang her brains out.

He cupped the back of her neck and pulled her closer, still holding her gaze. He looked at her mouth, soft and pink, a buzzing in his ears, blood rushing to his groin with painful heat, and his eyes closed as he bent his head to kiss her, to breathe her in.

And encountered nothing but air.

In celebration of finishing my WIP, which is Gabe's story for anyone who's read Power Struggle, here's a little sneak peak ( and a picture just because it's snowing like crazy here today):

She ignored the faint suspicion inside her that said oh hell yeah, this was different, this man was way different than any other man she’d ever met in her life. This was not the kind of man she should be spending time with, all forceful and overpowering. This was the kind of man she should be staying far, far away from, the kind of man who could be her downfall. She should be with someone like Kevin—kind, gentle...nice. But Kevin didn’t tempt her like Gabe did. And so she focused on her rationale for why she could do this―one night. Hot attraction. That’s all.


“I like it when you laugh,” she said.

His eyes darkened even more. “I don’t laugh very often.”

“I know.”

“You’re saying I’m a bad-tempered son of a bitch.”

She smiled. “If the hardhat fits...”

He laughed again, then closed his eyes briefly as if it almost pained him. “Reagan.”

“Mmm?”

“Come see the rest of the house.”

She hid her smile as she followed him back into the house. His house was not decorated in single-guy, big screen television, stereo and exercise equipment style but rather had a casual, comfortable elegance. She eyed the wall of bookshelves loaded with books, wanted to explore more there. “Did your wife live here with you?” she asked.

He shot her a sideways look. “No. We divorced a long time ago. I just built this house a couple of years ago.”

“Oh.”

“Why?”

“Never mind. I’ve already complimented you enough tonight. I don’t want your head to get too big.”

“Too late for that,” he muttered, tugging on one pant leg.

It took her a second and then she burst out laughing. “You made a joke again.”

He frowned. “Now you’re saying I don’t have a sense of humor? Not much chance of my ego swelling with you around.”

She couldn’t help it. Her eyes dropped to his groin. Speaking of swelling...she looked back up at him and his dark eyes burned with a blue flame. He moved his head from side to side, but his lips twitched and she had to smile too. “I know you have a sense of humor,” she said softly. “You just keep it pretty well hidden behind all that surliness.”

He made a little choking sound. “Just when I think you’re getting nice, you backhand me again.”

Yay it's Friday and I love weekends. This weekend you have 2 chances to win one of my books.

Saturday at The Romance Studio Book a Day Giveaway, they're giving away a PRINT copy of Love 2 Love U.

And my friend Erin Nicholas and I are having a contest together, also at The Romance Studio  - we're eaching giving away 2 PRINT books - one for you to keep and one to give to a friend! Erin's book Just Right and my book Love 2 Love U were both released the same day so we're celebrating together.

Love 2 Love U is an anthology of my three novellas, Love Me, Love Me More and 2 Hot 2 Handle. Here's a little excerpt from 2 Hot 2 Handle:

He kissed her mouth, knowing he tasted of her and she kissed him avidly back. So fucking hot.

“I think we might exhaust you tonight, Abby doll,” he murmured.

He drew back and they shared a smile. “I can handle it,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at Eric. He grinned, too.

“Yeah. She can.”

A rush of emotion so intense it almost sent him back to his knees roared through Jett. He was almost afraid to believe what was happening.

“Take your clothes off,” Abby said, her eyes gleaming. “You’re both wearing too many clothes. And Jett…”

His eyes flicked up to hers.

“I haven’t seen you, yet, either.”

Red-hot lust streaked through him. Fuck, what a woman!

He ripped his clothes off. He’d quickly gotten over any modesty when he’d started modeling, was used to his body being stared at, ogled, studied. Objectified, even. But damn him, he wanted Abby to like what she saw.

Her eyes widened, and her hands came out to trace over his chest, down over his quivering abs, and lower. She blinked as she studied him there.

“You’re…bare.”

He looked down. Oh, yeah. He was so used to it, he thought nothing of it. “I had to get rid of the hair for an underwear shoot,” he choked out. “It itches like hell when it grows back, so I just kept it like this.”

“Uh.” She seemed speechless. She reached out to touch and her soft fingers on his throbbing staff had him twitching hard. “It makes you look…huge.”

“I am huge.”

Her gaze flew up to meet his, and she smiled when she recognized his cocky humor.

“Well, yes you are, actually,” she murmured.

Eric came up behind her again, having divested himself of his clothes, too. “Hey,” he said. “He’s no bigger than I am.”

She turned her sparkling brown eyes to Eric. “No. Of course not. He just looks bigger because…there’s no hair there.”

“What? You want me to shave too?”

“Christ,” Jett said. “Don’t shave. That’s the worst thing you can do. You gotta wax, man.”

Eric winced. “Never mind. I’m fine the way I am.”

Okay! I have news! I just can't share it right now! But...I'm going to share a sneak peek from my "hockey story", as I've been calling it, Breakaway:

“I don’t know much about hockey,” she admitted. “But I think it’s very rough.”
“It can be.” He smiled at her. “That’s the fun part.”
“Do you fight?”
He laughed. “I have been known to mix it up a bit. But not often. There was a time back when I was a junior player and I was headed to goonsville. I was big and I liked to protect the other guys, but sometimes I tended to jump in and get physical without thinking about the consequences. I had a great coach, though, who really got me to work on controlling those impulses and to think about things.” He tilted his head. “You should come to a game.”
“Oh. Yeah. Maybe.”
“I’ll get you a ticket. I’ll get you two tickets and you can bring your friend…what’s her name…?”
“Delise.”
“Yeah. She didn’t seem too impressed with me the other night. I think I should make it up to her.”
“It wasn’t you she wasn’t happy with, it was me.” Remi grimaced. “She’s the one who wanted me to find a guy that night and get lucky. Then when I did, she freaked out and got all paranoid that I was leaving with a serial killer.”
Jason choked on a mouthful of beer. “Good to know she has a high opinion of me.”
Remi laughed. “She didn’t even know who you were. She would have felt that way if I was going home with the Pope.”
“Ha. Be glad it was me. You wouldn’t have gotten three orgasms with the Pope.”
Now it was her turn to choke. “I didn’t get three! We were interrupted…”
“Damn. That’s right.” His eyes went even darker. “I guess I owe you one more, then.”

Well it's almost Christmas and it's time to pull out the only Christmas story I've ever written:  All I Want For Christmas. 

Fallen Angel Reviews gave All I Want For Christmas 4 Angels:

"I loved this little read, and Ms. Jamieson's cast of characters added to this lovely little tale of love. All I Want For Christmas reminds us that Christmas really does have miracles."
Reviewed by: Rachel C.

Here's a little excerpt:

Erin was just popping more painkillers into her mouth when she looked up into the amused eyes of Dex Mitchell. Again. “So, anyone here that can help me out now?” he asked, eyes glinting.


She almost choked on the pills and took a big gulp of water, which of course dribbled down her chin and onto her silk blouse. She wiped ineffectually at it as she felt her cheeks grow hot and no doubt red. “Jason is back from lunch,” she told Dex, swiping at her boobs. “He does the payroll. He’s just around the corner.” She flashed a smile that she hoped looked helpful and confident, praying that Jason wasn’t sitting there with his feet on his desk eating chocolates and wearing the plush Santa hat he’d had on earlier.

She heard Dex go around the corner and start conversing with Jason in a low voice, and she slumped back in her chair. Why, why, why did he always have to catch her at her worst?

She was scrawling her signature across some vendor invoices a few moments later when Dex returned.

She looked up at him inquiringly.

“I hear you’re in charge of the party tomorrow night,” he remarked.

“Yes.” She was almost reluctant to admit it. What if the whole party bombed? It would be all her fault. No, it was not going to bomb. She’d checked and rechecked every detail with her usual thoroughness (or was it paranoia?). “Did you have a last‐minute addition to the guest list?”

He shook his head, a smile touching his mouth. “No. I’ll be there, but I’m coming alone. I just wondered if you’d arranged for taxi service to take people home.”

“Of course!” The company provided taxi vouchers for anyone who wanted them to make sure that nobody drove home after drinking.

“Perfect. Don’t want any unfortunate incidents at the holiday party.”

Erin shook her head. “No, of course not.”

At that moment, Erin’s phone rang. She grabbed for the receiver.

“Good afternoon, Human Resources, Erin speaking, can I have you?”

There was silence at the other end of the line, and Erin closed her eyes rather than face Dex. “I mean, can I help you?” she gasped.

A laugh came over the line. “You can have me any time, honey. My wife might not like it, though. It’s Carl in Research.”

“Hi, Carl.” Her cheeks burned.

“Just a quick question about the party…”

She dealt with his question then hung up and looked at Dex, still standing there, looking very amused.

“So, I guess I’ll see you at the party then,” he said.

She stared at him. Why was he making small talk with her? She smiled brightly. “Absolutely. I’ll be there. I’m going alone, too.”

Shit. Why had she said that? It sounded so lame. She turned back to her work again with flaming cheeks and bent her head.

“Hey!” Kayla whispered seconds later. “What did Dex Mitchell want? I saw him talking to you!”

Kayla was the only other person who knew Erin thought Dex Mitchell was a hottie. She looked up at her friend and grinned.

“He came to talk to Jason about some payroll stuff, and then he was asking me about the party.”

“Really.”

“He told me he’s going alone to the party.”

“He told you that? Just out of the blue?” Kayla’s brows rose almost into her hair. “Hmm.”

This week I finished a manuscript and put it away to rest. It was HARD to put this one away! I got very close to these characters and I...miss them. Sniff. I hope that means it's good, but what the heck do I know *rolling eyes at self*

Anyway here's a tiny peek at the finished manuscript:

“Dude,” Dylan said. “Your girlfriend is smokin’ hot.”


“She’s not my girlfriend,” Matt automatically replied. “We’re just friends.”

Dylan lifted an eyebrow. “Just friends? That’s why she was asleep in your bedroom? Just sleeping?”

“Okay, yeah, friends with benefits. But still, just friends.”

“Oh ho.” Dylan grinned. “Mondo, dude.” He held up his empty bottle. “Beer me.”

Matt laughed and headed to the kitchen. When he returned with two more bottles of ale, Dylan said, “So you two sleep together but you’re just friends.”

“Yeah.” Matt popped the top of his bottle.

“How’d you luck into an arrangement like that, man?”

Matt shrugged and frowned a little. “Well. It just kinda happened. We were friends for a long time. We worked together at Pancho’s, and we had some classes together at UCSA. It was never more than that, because I was living with Lysett, and Corey was going out with some asshole who treated her like crap.” He made a face. “Corey finally got smart enough to dump his ass, and then Lysett dumped me, and Corey and I started hanging out more.”

“Just friends.”

“Yeah.” Matt huffed out a laugh. “You know that’s what girls always want from me. I’m not a chick magnet like you, stud.”

“Bullshit. That’s not all girls want from you.”

Matt shrugged. “Whatever.” He’d heard it enough times in his life. Women regarded him as a nice guy, friend material but not red hot lover material. “You’re too nice.” “Let’s just be friends.” Yeah, he’d heard it a few times. He and Lysett had been together for years but in the end, she’d dumped him for a guy with two ex-wives and three kids, who’d decided to quit his job to play in a rock band, buy a Harley Davidson, and who she said “rocked her world”. Matt wasn’t a world-rocking kind of guy, and after that he’d decided maybe friendship was the best he was going to get with women.

By samsfadil Flickr

Here's a sneak peek from a work in progress, tentatively titled With Strings Attached:


“Hey if you guys are going to hang out in here, you can help.”  Matt got Corey scrubbing the little potatoes he’d bought at the market and Dylan cutting up the vegetables he’d already washed.

Dylan held up a baby yellow zucchini, not much bigger than his thumb. “Hey, you know what this reminds me of?”

The wicked gleam in his eye told Matt exactly where the asshole was going with that, but Corey turned and looked and said, “What?”

“Matt’s dick.”

“Oh har,” Matt said. “Very funny.”

Corey snorted, though. “As if.” She looked over at the counter where Dylan sat on a stool, and picked up a large green zucchini. Really large. “I’d say more like this.”

Matt grinned and nodded. Dylan laughed. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot you two are friends with benefits. Of course you’d know all about that.”

“You must have been thinking of your own junk,” Matt said, nodding at the tiny squash.

Corey laughed again and so did Dylan. “Bullshit.”

“I can’t believe we’re talking about the size of your man parts,” she said, reaching for a towel to dry her hands, the potatoes all scrubbed and in a pot. “Men. You guys are all so insecure about your size.”

“I’m not insecure!” Dylan protested.

“Sure,” she said with patent patronization. “Uh-huh. The more you protest...”

“Hey. You want me to whip it out right here?”

“I dare you.”

Matt held up a hand. “Stop! Not in the kitchen, for god’s sake.”

Lost and Found

Here's one more small excerpt:

Krissa led the way, wet and dripping, through the dark house and into the bedroom, all three of them naked. “I might fall sleep,” she warned the two men as she handed out towels. Her body felt weak and lethargic; her mind fuzzy.


To her surprise, Nate accepted the towel from her, shook it out and started drying her off. He rubbed her hair between two towel-covered hands, dried her shoulders and throat, then her chest, lingering on her breasts. Derek took a cue from him, and stepped behind her to dry her back.

Having two men attending to her pleasure was so exquisite she couldn’t believe this was happening. Four male hands gently toweled her body dry, then lifted her onto the bed. She was thankful for that because she wasn’t sure if she was able to move. The heat of the hot tub and the shattering orgasm had left her limp and lazy.

When Derek and Nate had dried off, they climbed into bed with her, into what was becoming a usual pattern of Derek on her right and Nate on her left. She knew she needed to look after them, but at that moment she couldn’t move. Maybe if they just let her sleep for a few minutes…

But they had no intention of letting her sleep, apparently. They did, however, seem to understand her languor and once again, two mouths and four hands stroked and kissed and licked her everywhere. She floated on a cloud of sensual bliss. At first she reveled in the carnal sensation, aware of nothing but her sense of touch as hands petted her, mouths brushed her and tongues slid over her. But when two mouths sucked on her nipples at the same time, her body tightened and arched. Mouths tugged, teeth nipped, and sharp little sensations flashed from nipples to quivering clit. Thick, hot liquid arousal pooled between her legs, fever heated her skin. Need built inside her, coiling, to a tight, sharp point.