Three for Me? Read online

  When he finally gets his hands on her, the power between them is undeniable. But Dorothy’s family secret could make him sorry she surrendered.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Surrender Dorothy:

  He stood away from the wall, his fingers reaching up to undo the top button of his white linen shirt. Dorothy took a step back. “What are you doing?”

  He took another step. “Earning your trust.” Another button undone. “I never had any interest in Emily. She was merely a way for me to get close to you. I never touched her.”

  Dorothy bumped against a piece of furniture, altering her retreat without looking where she was going. “You’re interested in everyone. You forget I had a bird’s eye view of just how interested. Why should I believe you?”

  He slipped the shirt off, and it dropped to the ground. Dorothy swallowed. He was beautiful. The ruby amulet lay against his lean, smooth chest, stomach muscles rippling with his slow, deliberate movements as he continued to stalk her. “I was never intimate with any of them, not after seeing you, and you know it. I wanted you to know me. To know my appetites. To want me not in spite of them,”—he smiled—“but because of them. And don’t lie and say you didn’t enjoy every minute of it.”

  She had. Dorothy heard the rushing of water and she looked behind her. He’d backed her into a room with a small waterfall. Steam rose from the heated pool at its base. This was a bathroom a woman could die happy in. But first she had to know.

  “And Kansas?”

  “He was fated to be the king’s consort. The magic of our world called him, but yes, I sent the storm. Yes, I was attracted to him. And yes, I slept with him. That is what you wanted to know, isn’t it?”

  The waterfall blurred before her eyes. “Yes.”

  “Look at me, Dorothy. Please.”

  He was naked. Gloriously, unashamedly naked, aroused and looking at her as if she were the only thing he wanted in the universe. If only she could believe that.

  He held out his arms. “I stand here before you, Zenamulous of the Crow Warriors, the king’s wizard, from a line of wizards dating back to the time of Transformation. I have never used my magic to increase my wealth or power, though occasionally I have used it to increase another’s pleasure. I have never repressed my passions, but I’ve never forced them on anyone either.”

  His chin lifted proudly, but Dorothy could see a hint of vulnerability darken his gaze. “And from the moment I saw you, I knew you were mine.”

  The ball was in her court. She could see it in the way he held himself so still. He wouldn’t use words or powers to woo her, wouldn’t take her in his arms or sweep her off her feet. She would have to make the next move. She would have to choose to trust him…or not.

  In spite of her pique, in spite of her insecurities and his past, the choice wasn’t hard at all. Hadn’t she ridden a storm to find him? A few steps were nothing after that. She stopped directly in front of him, making sure he had a clear view. One twist of her fingers and the blanket fell silently to the floor.

  His fiery stare scorched her skin. There could be no doubt he liked what he saw. His nostrils flared when she laid one tentative hand on his bare shoulder, skimming it down his arm to wrap around his wrist. He raised his eyebrow and she smiled, lifting his hand and covering it as it cupped her breast.

  Dorothy closed her eyes, reveling in the feel of his hand on her. “Oh none of that.” Her lids lifted, startled at Z’s low command. “I want you to see everything. To look in your eyes as I make you come again and again and again.”

  Just that quickly she was trembling, arousal coating her sex and heating her thighs. He inhaled. “Makers, you smell amazing. I don’t think I can wait to taste you.” He knelt in front of her and she gasped, grabbing his shoulders as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her clit. He spread the lips of her pussy wide and flattened his tongue against her, as if he were absorbing her into his blood stream.

  Z growled against her sex, the vibration weakening her knees until she was leaning heavily against him, her body bowing over his, hair grazing his back. He grabbed her waist, pulling her down to the floor and lifting her legs over his shoulders.

  Dorothy lifted her head to watch him staring at her from between her thighs. She felt a moment’s insecurity. Her body was totally visible, completely open to him. He sensed her hesitation. “You have the most sensual body I’ve ever seen. Soft curves of silk and cream. I could drown in you. You are a goddess, sweet Dorothy. Let me worship you.”

  Her head fell back against the cool floor as he disappeared between her legs. She gasped when his tongue thrust deep inside her sex, his palms spreading her ass cheeks wide, opening her completely to him.

  When his thumb, damp with her juices, pressed against her ass, she trembled. Hadn’t she fantasized, as she’d watched him entering that young, beautiful man, watching the look of pain and ecstasy on his angelic face as the wizard rode him that first night? Hadn’t she touched herself and dreamt of him inside her in that way? So forbidden. So wanton. Oh God.

  He pushed through the tight muscles, biting her inner thigh at her groan. “No one has ever touched you here.” It wasn’t a question. “I will. I want you on your knees, begging for my cock in your ass. Shit, I could come just thinking about how you’ll feel around me. You’re so tight, baby, but you can take me.” He twisted his thumb inside her, and she screamed at the fullness.

  “Not yet, but soon. Now I want to feel you come against my tongue, taste your sweet cream.” His actions matched his words, his tongue sliding deep inside her pussy, fucking her as he pushed his thumb in and out of her ass.

  One amazing night. A waste of time? Or a new beginning?

  Fortune’s Promise

  © 2009 Karen Erickson

  A Fortune story.

  After winning the lottery a year ago with her two best friends, Maddie Carpenter’s life should have changed for the better. Right? Wrong. She’s still stuck in her boring old life while her friends are living theirs to the fullest.

  Watching one of them get married brings all her self doubt into sharp focus. She resolves to do something exciting, something thrilling. Starting right now, with the singer performing at the reception.

  Tanner is still bitter over his divorce, bitter toward women in general. But something about sweet and sexy Maddie turns Tanner inside out—and he can’t resist her.

  One amazing night of sex turns into many nights of more amazing sex. Soon their relationship is moving way out of the casual zone. But both carry excess baggage of suspicion and distrust that could cost them everything…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Fortune’s Promise:

  The tiny hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he sat up straight, aware someone was watching him. He turned around to see a woman standing in the wide entryway of the bar, backlit from the bright lights coming from the hallway of the hotel, her curvaceous figure silhouetted perfectly for his perusal. He cocked his head, appreciating her voluptuous form, wishing he could make out her face. He waited, anticipation filling his gut and he damn near prayed she would walk inside the bar.

  She finally did, taking tentative steps, the skirt of her pale gold dress swirling around her feet as she entered the dark room. He recognized her immediately.

  The hot little piece who had caught his eye when he performed at the reception. The one who had stood in the corner and watched him with wide eyes the entire time he sang. The bridesmaid. There’d only been two and Brittney had told him all three of them had won the lottery along with her.

  She could work.

  Her gaze scanned the room slowly, chewing nervously on her lower lip as she came closer to the bar. Just the sight of those even white teeth nibbling on the lush fullness of her pink lower lip had his mind conjuring all kinds of images. All of them dirty, all of them sure to shock the shit out of this chick. She had a regal way about her, reminding him vaguely of an ice princess. The tilt of her chin, the almost haughty expression on her face,
the way she walked with perfect posture and graceful movements.

  Tanner wondered what she would do if he propositioned her, whispered in her ear that he wanted to fuck her brains out.

  Hell, he was in a mood. Not only did he want to get laid, but he also wanted to do it in every dirty nasty way imaginable. Little Miss Prim and Proper would put a lockdown on her panties if she had any clue as to what he was thinking about.

  Maybe she wouldn’t work.

  She finally ended up at the bar, a few seats away from him and she sat, pulling up at her skirts as she did. It didn’t help, he noticed. The bodice of her strapless dress slipped, revealing the delicate pale lace of her bra for the briefest second before she yanked it back up. She glanced around, her gaze meeting his and her eyes widened in shock. She had caught him watching every moment.

  He smiled at her and she looked away, her cheeks flushing a deep pink. The bartender ignored her when she tried to gain her attention with a wave of her hand and her shoulders slumped. Resting her hand on the countertop, she looked utterly defeated.

  Tanner cleared his throat when the bartender approached and she smiled at him, the look on her face flirtatious. “You ignored her.”

  “Who?” Her eyes widened and she glanced up and down the bar. “Oh, you mean her? I’ll get to her in a minute. I thought you might need something.”

  He certainly didn’t need her. “I want you to go over there and take her order. And tell her it’s on me.”

  The bartender nodded, the light dimming in her eyes. Maybe she realized he wasn’t interested. Damn right. “Of course, Mr. Robinson.”

  She walked over to the bridesmaid, pointing a finger at Tanner halfway through her spiel. When the bartender turned away to prepare her drink, the bridesmaid glanced in his direction, a tentative smile on her lips. He smiled back, and she looked away, her cheeks pink again.

  Tanner grabbed his drink and slid off the stool, walking slowly towards her. She didn’t notice, too busy gathering her drink from the now-jealous bartender who glared at him as he approached.

  She sipped from her drink, her lips wrapped around the skinny red straw, and he knew without a doubt that she was the one who could help him ease his troubles tonight.

  Now if only she would be willing.

  He sat on the stool next to her and she literally jumped, turned her startled dark brown gaze upon him, her lips still attached to the straw. She gulped loudly and set the glass down with a thump, a nervous smile on her face.

  “Thank you.” She waved at the glass. “For my drink. You didn’t have to do that.”

  “You’re welcome.” He tilted his head towards her, wondered what made this woman so damn nervous. Most of the women he encountered fawned over him but didn’t necessarily act nervous. No, they were more the type who knew what they wanted and went right for it.

  A free night in the sack with the famous singer, that’s what they always wanted.

  He grimaced. Fuck, when did his life get so pointless? So empty?

  She must have noticed his grimace because she frowned, even looked ready to hop off her stool. “I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

  Without thinking, he rested his hand on her forearm to prevent her from leaving. The tips of his fingers sizzled at the contact, sending a jolt of awareness throughout his entire body. She appeared affected as well, gooseflesh blossoming on her skin beneath his touch.

  “Don’t go,” he murmured. “Stay with me, just for a few minutes.”

  She settled herself on the stool and he removed his hand reluctantly.

  “Did you enjoy it?”

  Her darkest fantasies are about to come true…

  Reinventing Jane Porter

  © 2009 Dominique Adair

  Jane Porter Series, Book 3

  Jane’s weekend of mind-blowing sex is drawing to a close. Only one event remains—a masquerade ball. Her masters, Antonio and Santos, will be her escorts, but the party isn’t the only item on their agenda. They plan to show her what it really means to live the life of a prized submissive.

  After tasting the heady decadence of true sexual freedom, Jane wonders if she can ever go back to her everyday life—or if Beauty will, finally and permanently, be freed from her shell.

  Then there’s the issue of a former lover lurking in the wings…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Reinventing Jane Porter:

  “My heart wasn’t broken.”

  His brow rose.

  Busted.

  “You’re not a very good liar.” The corner of his mouth hitched.

  “Pffft.” Jane rolled her eyes. “You and Lily must’ve been talking behind my back.”

  “It didn’t take more than an hour in your company to know you don’t fit the profile of a woman who attends an affair such as this, Belleza.” He shook his head. “Contrary to the signal you’re putting out, you’re not looking to scratch an itch.”

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. While she’d spent the entire day with Santos and Antonio, their conversations had been limited thanks to their sexual gymnastics.

  “You’re very astute, but I’m not looking for a permanent relationship.” She reached for another pin.

  “Maybe not right now, but that is your ultimate desire.”

  “Which makes me no different than most of the people here this weekend.”

  “Trust me,” his voice dropped. “You are like none other.”

  “So you’ve been thinking about me.” She began to smile. “That makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.”

  “I can’t speak for Santos, but you’ve been the only thing on my mind since you walked into the ballroom.”

  “Right…”

  Capturing her chin, he forced her to look at him. The look in his eye told her he was serious. Her palms began to sweat.

  “I was in the gallery overlooking the ballroom when you walked in on Jean Jacques’ arm. Your beautiful hair drew my attention.” He twined an errant curl around one finger. “But it was your smile that held me captive.”

  Quivering, she held her breath as he caressed the curve of her cheek. Her nipples hardened when he stroked her lower lip with his thumb. Her breathing deepened.

  “You were looking at Jean Jacques as if he’d set the sun in the sky. You were unguarded, open.” His fingers traced an imaginary line along her jaw leaving only goose bumps behind.

  “There was nothing false or rehearsed about you. It was a private moment between two friends, not meant to be witnessed by the man soon to become your lover.”

  Through her cotton chemise he touched her right nipple. Back and forth he stroked until the tip was visible beneath the thin material.

  “Seeing your body and the way you moved made me ache. Confident, sexy.” His hand landed on her thigh. “You have the envious figure of a mature woman. Full breasts, hips and those long beautiful legs. All I wanted was to feel your legs locked around me.” His smiled. “Or over my shoulders as I licked your sweet coño.”

  A fine sheen of sweat dampened her skin. Listening to him left Jane’s body on fire. Her pussy throbbed and against her hip his cock throbbed. Much more of this and she’d come without her coño even coming out to play. Gently, he began stroking her thigh with his thumb.

  “But you probably knew that.”

  His faint smile held just a touch of shyness, leaving Jane with the urge to give him a big hug…before throwing him to the ground and fucking him into unconsciousness.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “I’ve attended a few scenes—”

  “Only a few?”

  “—and I’ve learned most people are here for two reasons.” His gaze moved over her face as if he was committing it to memory. “For some it’s what they do. Like butterflies they move from one event to the next, and their list of lovers is extensive. Their goal is to come as much as possible and avoid emotional entanglement while doing so. Sex is their hobby, a diversion from their daily lives.”

  His other hand lande
d on her lower back. The warmth of his palm seared her skin. She felt surrounded by him, wrapped in a thick blanket of male appreciation. More than ever she felt the pull of his personality, his desire for her, and Jane wanted nothing more than to answer his call.

  “On rare occasions I’ve met women similar to you. Beautiful, mature and confident, you know yourself and your place in the world.” He shrugged. “Most women think being sexy means showing their pechos and the men come running…”

  “Some do.” Jane gestured toward her breasts. “We don’t call them the orbs of power for nothing.”

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