IOU

IOU A Carnal Reunions Tale

By Paris Brandon

Resplendence Publishing, LLC http://www.resplendencepublishing.com

Resplendence Publishing, LLC P.O. Box 992 Edgewater, Florida, 32132 IOU Copyright © 2009, Paris Brandon Edited by Jessica Berry Cover art by Rika Singh Electronic format ISBN: 978-1-60735-084-2 Warning: All rights reserved. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000. Electronic release: November 2009 This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and occurrences are a product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, places or occurrences, is purely coincidental.

Table of Contents Chapter One.................................................................................................................................... 5 Chapter Two.................................................................................................................................... 8 Chapter Three ............................................................................................................................... 12 Chapter Four ................................................................................................................................ 17 Chapter Five ................................................................................................................................. 24 Chapter Six.................................................................................................................................... 31 About the Author ........................................................................................................................... 32

Chapter One

To: [email protected]

From: [email protected]

Hello to all of Gracie’s Girls, class of 1999. Once again, thanks to all of you for the flowers and phone calls after my aunt Gracie’s passing last winter. You all meant so much to her, and to me.

As I’m sure you all know, our tenth college reunion is coming up this summer. Since I now have Gracie’s big rambling house all to myself, I’d like to extend an invitation. If any of you are coming back for the reunion, you’re more than welcome to stay here, in your old rooms. Gracie quit taking in college students several years back, so there’s no one here but me, and I’d love to have some company while I’m getting the house ready to put on the market. So what do you say? One last time as roommates? It would be great to see all of you again.

Hugs,

Karen ****

Karen’s House Bliss Harper bit her lip and gazed down at the back of a ten year-old pizza receipt where Nick Santucci’s precise signature was scrawled at the bottom of an IOU for one night of sweaty,

dirty, bad-boy sex. She carefully opened the musical card that he’d sent in reply to the photocopied IOU. The tinny strains of a lively nineties dance number, by a local band that had lasted on the charts for about four minutes her senior year, blared. Nick’s familiar scrawl informing her that he’d see her at the Ambassador, ready to pay up, was at the bottom of the card. Thanks to Classmates R Us, she’d finally reconnected with the one man who’d been starring in her personal fantasies for the past ten years. She usually had better sense, but she’d realized the day her college reunion invitation had arrived that she’d slipped back into her all-work-and-no-play mode. Of course, there wasn’t any guarantee that this weekend was going to change that. Nick could be fat, bald, married or all of the above. Well, if he was, at least she could finally start fantasizing about someone else when she had her next close encounter with her battery-operated, Saturday night date. And if her luck held, she’d find out what she’d done to make Nick Santucci owe her a night of bad-boy sex. Maybe then she’d start living the life she’d put on hold ten years ago to pursue the success and security she had finally achieved. The door shuddered and Franny’s familiar knock made her smile, something she’d been doing a lot of since showing up at Karen’s door a few hours ago. “Come on in, Fran.” Fran, wearing one of her signature no-nonsense pant-suits strode into the room like an Amazon queen. “When are you going to design me something that makes my butt look good?” she asked, waving her hand at the emerald, toga-styled silk sheath wrapped around Bliss, and caught at one shoulder with a matching tie. “I’ll make a deal with you. You take enough time off from the think tank to come to New York and get measured, and I’ll make you a dress that will win your butt an award.” Fran rolled her eyes and then glanced at the open card Bliss held. “What the hell is the name of that song you keep playing?” “I don’t remember,” she lied, and knew she was caught when Fran pinned her with her famous frown. “Have you remembered a damn thing about that night?” “Not much after Elliot broke up with me. I think there was dancing and green jell-o involved,” she shrugged, “after that, nothing.”

“So are you here looking for Nick Santucci as a possible Mr. Right? ‘Cause, honey, Mr. Right could be fat, bald or married—and very possibly, all three.” Bliss blinked. “It’s scary how much we think alike. And the answer is not just no, but hell no. I think. So, are you not looking for Mr. Right, either?” “There’s no such animal,” Fran scoffed. “But I wouldn’t mind a few rounds with Mr. Wrong,” she said, and surprisingly enough, she almost sounded wistful.

Chapter Two

The Reunion Her hair was still the color of the sun on fire. She wasn’t squinting, so he was betting on contact lenses covering the biggest, greenest eyes he’d ever had the pleasure of locking stares with. But if he had to go with an identifying feature for Bliss Harper, all he would have to do is let his gaze wander down her curvy legs to her high-heeled, sexy-as-hell, come-fuck-me sandals that matched her dress. Nick Santucci would have known those pink-painted toes anywhere. Ten years ago, she hadn’t been wearing shoes or much else when he connected with the come-hither glance she’d thrown over her shoulder while in the middle of a striptease. She’d had the frat boys at “Dawg” house, future politicians, every one, panting for more. He remembered every roll of her hip for the thirty second glimpse he’d had before the cops arrived, and he’d thrown her over his shoulder like a cave-man, running like hell for the pizza delivery car he’d been driving. Bliss had been trouble he couldn’t afford in those days. She’d deserved more than getting stuck with a guy who’s every waking moment had been consumed with keeping his family’s pizza restaurant from going bankrupt. He slipped around the outside perimeter of the room, keeping to the darker corners. She was nervous and eager, but she wasn’t drunk, and tonight there wasn’t any reason to ignore any glance she threw his way. Tonight, he was going to end up between her legs. He smiled at the image he’d carried for ten years.

Bliss gripped her wine glass and scanned the room, concentrating on the dancing couples

so she wouldn’t fidget, but the song was ending and she was alone in a corner, looking for a handsome Italian bad-boy with a perpetual five o’clock shadow and a devilish gleam in his dark eyes. Please let them all decide to dance again so I don’t have to explain why I’m standing in a corner, ready to throw up. The driving beat of Make Me Come To You, the nineties hit that the band now played, was a less tinny version of the tune that had blared from Nick’s card. What was it with everyone and this damn song? The sounds of tinkling laughter and couples reconnecting after ten years, drifted out onto the dance floor. Her friends would have been beautiful, even if they hadn’t been wearing Bliss Harper originals. Their support didn’t surprise her, but it did bring a lump to her throat. She swallowed hard and scanned the room for the tenth time since arriving. Why was Dickie Shotz toasting her, almost reverently from across the room? She didn’t even know him. Someone had mentioned he was a councilman or something to do with city government. She raised her glass, covering her polite confusion with a brief confident smile she hoped said “I’m sure you’re a nice man but I don’t want to fuck you”. She took a sip of her wine and almost choked when one finger slid up the crack of her silk-covered ass and traced over the tattoo of delicate butterfly wings that very few people knew about. Her hand started shaking so badly, if she’d had any more wine in her glass it would have spilled. “Ready to pay up Mr. Santucci?” she asked, without turning around. “Tonight, I’m just Nick,” he whispered in her ear, continuing to trace one lacy wing through the slippery fabric, “the man who owes you one night of sweaty, dirty, bad-boy sex.” She closed her eyes, letting the deep voice full of dark promises surround her. “Ready when you are,” she said, unable to keep the tremor of excitement out of her voice. “I’ve been ready since you sent me a copy of my IOU. Did you get my card?” “I’m trying to remember if we danced that night,” she said, mesmerized by his questing finger. “You were doing all the dancing. I remember pink toes, pink nipples, a sparkly pink belly ring and this,” he whispered darkly, tracing the butterfly tattoo down. “You were quite a surprise under all those thrift-store clothes. But I think you like surprises. I think you like having secrets.” He brushed his lips against the still-tingling skin where his whiskery jaw had rubbed her neck. Something flickered along the edge of her memory, but it was hard to concentrate while his

breath warmed her ear and his finger warmed…other places. She let out a long, shuddering sigh. “Have you been analyzing me?” “I’m a businessman. I analyze every situation and come up with the most viable solution.” He chuckled and the vibration fluttered through her. “And what’s your solution for my particular situation?” she asked, barely breathing while she watched the couples in the middle of the dance floor, and Nick Santucci seduced her in a dark corner where anyone could happen along. She was starting to tingle in places she hadn’t tingled for a long time. “That a bad boy is exactly what you need tonight.” Just the suggestion of having a bad boy made her panties wet. It always had. “And are you meticulous…with your solutions?” “I leave nothing to chance, every option is explored,” he said, tracing winding circles over her ass cheeks. “Sometimes…I have to experiment to be able to take just the right position.” The circles became wider and his warm palm settled on the rounded, silk-covered flesh he’d been teasing. “Especially if a situation is tricky. Say, I don’t have all the information going…in.” She rode a wave of pleasure, her eyes drifting closed, his hot breath caressing her ear, when he whispered, “Do you have all the information you need?” She turned, slowly, closing the space between them and opened her eyes. “Oh, my,” she breathed, smiling up at him. Same slim, ruggedly handsome devil, with a five-o’clock shadow and the darkest eyes she’d ever wanted to fall into. His suit was some deep shade of gray. There was a name for it but she couldn’t remember. His white shirt was stark against his olive skin— Stop designing for one minute, you idiot! This is the fantasy you’ve been waiting for. “Tell me you’re not married,” she said in a rush. “Not married, never even close,” he said, discreetly lifting his hand away from her butt to circle her waist and draw her even nearer. “Of course, you do realize that if I were really bad, I wouldn’t tell you the truth.” She stiffened, drawing back. He smiled, lifting his ring finger. No telltale tan lines where a ring would be. She relaxed. Leaning into him, she went up on her toes, whispering into his ear, “I have your IOU tucked into my panties. Ready to pay up?” He swung her around in a tight circle so that her back was to the crowd on the dance floor. To anyone else they’d look like two old friends sharing a hug, but Bliss squirmed when

Nick slid one big, warm hand carefully through the front wrap of her dress, and dipped into the waistband of her panties. She bit her lip and smiled up at his surprise when he found the note and the soft, naked flesh beneath. He ran one long finger up her bare slit and she dug her fingers into his arms, holding perfectly still to keep from having a screaming orgasm and ending up a boneless heap on the marble floor of the Ambassador Hotel. His gaze turned molten as he withdrew the IOU from her panties and flicked it open. “The terms are vague,” he murmured, scanning it quickly. “But I don’t see a problem with negotiating as the evening progresses,” he said, his breath hitching just enough to make her smile.

Chapter Three

Bliss leaned against the headrest of the classic, red Cadillac convertible, and gave herself up to the enjoyment of letting Nick take control. The interior was pristine, all smooth, ivory leather, cool against her bare legs and shoulder, directly contrasting with the heat generated by one very confident male who handled the car with a lover’s deft caress. She could almost feel his big masculine hands skimming her breasts. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to contain her excitement. If he didn’t get to where they were going soon, she was going to leave a wet spot on the leather interior. “So,” he said; his voice as warm and liquid as the night. “Do you know where you are yet?” The landscape had changed from town to slightly more suburban, but she could still see the interstate. Ahead was a jagged row of flashing, neon signs that would have been tacky if the whole retro movement hadn’t been so popular. She squinted because her contacts were drying out and shook her head. His glance was incredulous. “Don’t tell me you never visited the Hideaway Motel.” “Elliot was too cheap to spring for a motel. Or maybe he really didn’t want anyone to find out he was fucking someone who wasn’t debutante of the year,” she shrugged, and caught his grimace out of the corner of her eye. “Seriously, we’re going to the Hideaway? I’ve always wanted to see the inside of that place,” she murmured, her excitement gathering like a small internal storm. She hadn’t intended to bring up Elliot’s name; it just went with the territory Nick seemed to want to explore. He lost his grimace, pulling into the asphalt parking lot of a one-story, Ushaped structure. It didn’t scream tacky as much on closer inspection, it sort of whispered…

illicit. The word made her toes curl. “This place is jumping,” she said, sliding her glance around the full parking lot as he eased the Caddy into a slot in the belly of the U. “Friday night, date night.” “Date night?” His mouth twitched. “Theme nights have improved business. Old Harlan got himself a designer to… redecorate the rooms. “Do they rent by the hour or the night?” she asked, offering him a sly smile. He leaned across the seat until he was inches from her lips. “Elliot Gardner was an idiot,” he said, before he gripped the back of her head and kissed her deeply, thoroughly. He tasted faintly of scotch and sin, if sin came bottled with delicious, velvety chocolate undertones. “We’re pre-registered, and we have all night,” he whispered, sliding away from her to open his door. She almost checked the seat for a wet spot when he helped her out of the car, but she was too busy imagining what was underneath the white dress shirt and charcoal pin-stripe suit that someone had tailored with surgical precision to Nick’s long lean muscles. It kept her quiet until he opened the door to their room. The shiny, chrome stripper pole, centered on a miniscule stage and tucked into a corner of the room under a canopy of soft lights took her breath away—for all of the thirty seconds it took her to notice the king-sized bed, covered in purple satin that sat angled toward it. Two matching lengths of satin cord hung suspended from the iron grillwork inside the arched wooden headboard, and through a small doorway she could see a sunken tub the size of a small pool. Her nipples actually puckered, and that hadn’t happened in quite a while. “I’d say Harlan knows his customers,” she said, her gaze fixed on satin ties the color of a ripe eggplant. She licked her lips, and didn’t bother to suppress a delicious shiver as she inspected the room more thoroughly and Nick closed the door behind them.

She stepped onto the stage, and ten years fell away with one come-hither smile as she wrapped a hand around the cool metal pole. “Are you going to dance for me, Nick?” His mouth went dry. Under the spotlights her pale skin glowed against her silky dress, sparkling like a jewel, as she glanced over one round, perfect shoulder. He raised his hand to the

knot in his tie, threading his fingers through it and drawing it open. As he slid it off, he kept his gaze fixed on her hand, imagining that she gripped his cock instead. “We’re going to dance together,” he said, kicking off his shoes and starting to unbutton his shirt. This time. She lifted her free hand to her shoulder, pulling the ribbon up until it came loose. He held his breath until her fingertips released their grip and the ribbon came undone as her dress fell, draping over her breast, revealing her pouty, pale nipples before it caught on the slope of her curvy ass. His fingers froze on his last shirt button. Her breasts were fuller, rounder, more mouth watering than he remembered. A chain was threaded around her waist and through her belly ring, disappearing under her dress until she rotated her hip and all that cool, green silk slid over her curves, landing in a puddle around her painted pink toes. As adorable as they were, tonight the delicate gold chain dipping into her lavender lace panties claimed his attention. She slipped her hand beneath them, pushing them off her hips until they slid down her legs and caught around her ankles. He shrugged out of his shirt and jacket in one motion, ripping at the cuffs he’d forgotten to unbutton. “Mmmmm,” she hummed, shifting positions to slide her back against the pole and slip her hands behind it. “May I make a request?” He managed a strangled chuckle when she widened her stance, naked except for her jewelry, a scrap of lace hooked around her ankles and a pair of first class, come-fuck-me shoes. “I’m the one who owes you, remember?” “Unzip your pants,” she said, her sly grin as sexy as her sultry whisper. “But first, come closer.” Two steps and he could see the moisture gleaming from her slit, a tiny gold flower anchoring the delicate chain, dangling just above her clit. It wasn’t as if he needed directions. He could smell her excitement. He inched his waist button free and gripped the tab of his zipper. His cock throbbed to each toothy pop against his cotton briefs. “Show me,” she asked, breathlessly, with a subtle roll of her hips. He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. She wanted him so desperate that he’d take her before he was even undressed. He reached inside, cupping his balls and cock with one hand, easing them from his underwear while she waited.

A drop of pre-cum spilled over his sensitive crown and he teased her, rubbing it down over himself. She licked her lips and her shuttered gaze glittered in the spotlight when he stepped upon the stage. His pants slipped down below his waist but he reached for her instead, skimming up her ribs to cup her breasts and lift them to his mouth. It had taken every ounce of strength not to taste her ten years ago, and he wasn’t about to deny himself that pleasure now.

The first touch of his tongue sent an electric frisson through her. Bliss gripped the pole behind her and watched his lips close around her nipple, pleasure rippling through her as it stiffened. The gentle scrape of his teeth thrilled her as he worked her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pulling and twisting while she writhed on a stage with an audience of one, panting for more. There was nothing sexier than a man with his pants around his hips, his cock out, surging toward her while she waited for just the right moment to touch him. She gripped the pole tighter, letting the tension build while moisture seeped from her and her body clamored for more. He lifted his head and her nipple glistened under the soft lights. And then he began to play, softly kissing her forehead, brushing over her brows, down her cheeks. He licked at the corners of her mouth, exploring her lips as if they were virgin territory and he wanted to be able find his way back. He was delicious and thorough, a sensual assault on so many levels she nearly panicked when she felt the faint ripples of an orgasm starting to build. She glanced across the room and there they were, softly focused in the mirrors that some designer—bless them—had known would come in handy. She caught a glimpse of the strong swell of his ass above his pants, drawn tight across his hips, and she nearly came undone, her warning shudders bringing a smile to the lips covering hers. “Not yet,” he whispered. “I want to be inside you when you come.” She kicked her panties away and he stepped between her legs. He palmed a condom packet from his pants, lifting it to his strong white teeth. The sound of it ripping sent a swirl of heat through her while he sheathed himself He skimmed his cock up her slit and she groaned, rolling her hips toward him, gripping the pole behind her so hard she was sure she’d leave an indentation. She locked gazes with him and managed a mangled, whispery command. “Then you’d

better hurry.” His hands were shaking while he guided himself inside of her and his excitement fed her own as she watched him thrust slowly, once, twice, the intrepid explorer gaining boldness as she tightened her inner muscles around his cock. “Let go of that damn pole and hold onto me,” he growled, grabbing her butt and lifting her legs over his hips, tipping her until she squealed and grabbed for his arms. And then it was all she could do to hang on and watch while his pants slipped down his legs and he fucked her. “Please tell me these walls are soundproof,” she wailed. “Oh, yeah,” he groaned, “Oh yeah, scream your head off, let me hear you come.” She locked her ankles over his hips and matched him thrust for thrust while he held her. She felt every nerve he brushed against twist and tighten, and then she was spiraling into an orgasm so strong she opened her mouth and screamed. Watching the clenched muscles of his ass in motion, she came again and he swallowed her faint cry with a kiss that felt like a claim.

Chapter Four

Nick couldn’t stop kissing her, not even when her pussy clenched and drew him deeper, her orgasm pulling him into his own as he stiffened and let it take him, drawing him down into its velvety darkness. He had just enough strength to keep them from sagging to the floor, enough presence of mind to slip out of her, pick her up and get them to the bed. After disposing of the condom he bent to grab the coverlet and she beat him to it, pulling a handful away so they could roll into the cool cotton sheets he’d requested. Silk sheets looked sexy as hell, but sliding out of bed lost its allure after the first time. She snuggled against his chest and he grinned when she glanced up. Her laughter bubbled up and filled the room. “I’d always heard about mirrored ceilings, I’ve just never seen one.” “Harlan got them out of an old mansion that someone had redecorated in the seventies. The lady was apparently restoring it to its antebellum glory, and the mirrors didn’t make the cut.” She rolled over and he caught a glimpse of lush breasts as she rested them on his chest. “How come you know so much about this motel?” Her green eyes twinkled in the dim light. The old bitter memory had since been replaced by a good one, but her question still tripped him up for a minute. “After my dad died, money was tight because his business partners had stolen most of the profits. Harlan worked sometimes without getting paid for weeks at a time so that my mom could settle with the creditors and she wouldn’t lose the restaurant. When he inherited this place, he needed a business plan and I helped him out.” “Do you save big companies as well as the little guy on Main Street?” she asked, looking at him like he was some kind of white knight. “I tried that for a while. It’s more fun helping guys like Harlan figure out the best way to

compete. What about you?” She batted her eyes at him, ridiculous and funny at the same time. “I’m a hard-hearted capitalist. I design beautiful clothes for people who don’t like to be photographed wearing the same outfit twice.” “Why?” “What do you mean, why? I have to make a living.” She was still smiling but there was a defensive edge to her voice. They were heading into dangerous territory and time wasn’t on his side. He didn’t want to wait another ten years to find out more about Bliss Harper. He smoothed a bouncy curl away from her cheek. “Why haven’t you tried to collect my IOU before now?” She started to draw away and he wrapped his arms around her, sliding her back up his chest. “I always wondered what happened to you.” She chuckled nervously and started to look away but he nudged her gaze back, made her face him. She nodded, as if resigned. “I couldn’t remember how I got the IOU. And I was afraid if I found out, I wouldn’t want to leave Indiana. And then I’d just end up like my mother, waiting for another handsome man I couldn’t resist to come along and take me away from whatever problem I’d acquired.” She waggled her red-gold eyebrows. “You being the handsome man I wouldn’t be able to resist.” No white knights here then, just a bad boy. “You were really afraid I’d mess up your plans?” “Terrified,” she whispered, shuttering her gaze and bending her head. She licked his collarbone, swirling the tip of her tongue into the hollows, distracting him. He’d thought he would need a little more time, but he was already growing thick. He sought out her lips, cradling her head while she fed him her tongue. She straddled him, trapping his cock between them while it slid into a full erection and his balls drew tight. He rolled her under, caging her with his body and his arms. “I think you like being terrified. I think you were the kid on the roller coaster who screamed the loudest and had the most fun.” She grinned, and he knew she was holding a secret, biting her luscious lip, her green eyes, twinkling in the dim light. “It’s how I had my first orgasm. Sitting by a kid I didn’t even know, with only our knees touching. Everyone was screaming and I was coming and no one

knew it.” He could see the memory take her and knew he’d guessed right. “You like coming in crowds, the idea of public sex?” “Oh yes,” she hissed, closing her eyes when he tweaked her breast, sighing before she asked, “What about you? Would you ever have sex in an elevator, stuck between floors when the power goes, with people crowded around you? It’s dark and you feel a stranger’s hand in your pants and you don’t know whose it is, you just know it feels good. You don’t know where to put your hands because what if it’s another guy who just has soft hands? What if you slipped your hand in his pants and found another cock. Would you stroke it? Would you make him stop stroking you?” He was up fantasy creek without a paddle. Tell her. “If he put his hands in my pants, I’d have to figure he’d read something about me that I might not be aware of. I could close my eyes and pretend he was a woman or I could face the fact that a stranger’s hand was in my pants, I was turned on and wanted to come. If I accepted it, I’d have to reciprocate.” “Does it excite you? Two people, coming quietly in a dark elevator, packed in so tight they can barely breathe?” He had to admit it did, but he could tell from the sparkle in her eyes that she could already see that. “Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you’re excited?” She laughed. “Looking at you, I have some idea. Have you ever had sex in public?” “No. Have you?” Her gaze widened. “I’ve always been too chicken and I’ve never wanted to chance it with anyone I’ve been with before.” “Would you like to have public sex now?” “Unless you’re planning on taking me in the parking lot or opening a curtain, I don’t think it’ll be fast enough, but I think I’d chance it with you.” “I was hoping you’d say that.” “Are we going outside?” she squeaked when he rolled off of her and stood. “Sort of.” He leaned over and opened the bedside table drawer, withdrawing a gold foil condom packet and a blindfold. “Do you trust me?” Bliss looked at the dark length of velvet, noticed it was the same color as the spread and

satin ties attached to the grill in the headboard, and had to swallow her giddiness before she could talk. “Are you going to tie me up? Because if you are, I mean, everything already matches,” she said, stroking the satiny bedcover, “and I do like a coordinated outfit.” She scooted up the headboard, still eyeing the blindfold, practically drooling. She hadn’t had this much fun in years. “It’s probably better the first time you have public sex not to see any strangers who might see you writhing around naked with a man’s head between your legs, eating your pussy. It would probably be better if you could only hear them.” The breath soughed out of her in one long sigh as he slipped her wrists through the loops and scooted the pillows up behind her so she was semi-reclining and her arms were suspended. Then he wrapped the dark length of eggplant-colored silk around her eyes so she couldn’t see anything at all. And suddenly she was hyperaware of his warm breath, no longer smelling of scotch, the sheets holding their body heat and the subtle rhythm of wood scraping against wood. He was pulling the drawer out, then a click and the school anthem was playing softly in the background, the crescendo growing louder until she heard the gentle swell of voices as his cool fingers traced over the planes of her cheeks, her lips, and the line of her throat. Everywhere his fingers grazed, his lips followed. The air current above her nipple grew warmer. “The last home game has gotten pretty exciting,” he said, and her nipple puckered. The volume on the tape increased. “It’s so cold your nipples would stiffen even if they were wrapped in fur.” Something cool and silky brushed against one nipple and then the other. She arched, thrusting her breasts into its fleeting caress. She whimpered softly, already into the fantasy of not wanting to alert anyone. But there was a husky man sitting in front of them—o r maybe the blanket wrapped around his shoulders made him look bigger. He turned his head slightly after she’d stifled her whimper and she could tell that he suspected something was going on behind him. “Attendance is record breaking,” Nick continued in a hushed whisper that she could have heard under the blanket that was supposed to be wrapped around them, “and everyone is huddled under coats and flannel throws until someone scores or does something so spectacular that it sends the crowd to their feet, screaming and cheering. Maybe you should think about not coming until they get really loud, but it’s going to be awhile, so why don’t I just settle in here,” he said, and she felt the bed dip. He drew the covers away from her and she could feel cool air brush

across her nipples and bare pussy before he cocooned them. “We’re sitting way up in the bleachers with the blanket wrapped around us, but all I can think about is how smooth you are here,” he said, palming her silky vulva while he licked her nipple. She wound her wrists more firmly into the satin ties, gripping them harder, luxuriating in the sensation of being fettered, totally at his mercy in front of thousands. She rolled her hips, pressing rhythmically against his palm, but he kept his hand still and let her excite herself. “I can’t wait until we get back to the room,” he whispered. “But taking chances excites you and I love when you’re excited.” His whiskers brushed against her pussy and she could feel it swell, knew what he was seeing and it excited her more. “It’s a really big blanket, but if anyone’s paying attention, they’ll be able to tell that my head is between your knees. I’ve worked your lacy panties down and they’ve caught around your ankles. You’re trapped there, with my head between your legs and my hands under your butt, lifting you closer. I want to taste you. I want you to be able to taste yourself the next time I kiss you.” She closed her eyes and she could see it all, feel the energy from the crowd, know that any minute someone could swing their glance her way and see Nick’s head bobbing beneath the blanket. They’d know he was eating her pussy. She spread her legs wider and the crowd went wild. Someone was running and thousands were on their feet cheering, when she felt the first swipe of his tongue against her slit. The thundering roar grew louder and his lips enfolded her in an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue plunging inside of her. He gripped her hips, pulling her closer, fucking her while the crowd thundered around them. The tension built, coiling inside of her as the man in front of them slowly turned, locking gazes with her while she bucked and writhed beneath the blanket, thrusting her pelvis in time with Nick’s tongue until the stranger smiled an all-knowing smile and she came, hard, shuddering and screaming with the crowd. She was still coming when he slid inside her and eased her legs wider, tipping her until she was taking all of him. He kissed her and she could taste herself, just as he’d promised. His big hands cradled her head and he devoured her lips as he began to thrust slowly. The crowd hushed expectantly and she quivered, waiting, concentrating so she could find that settled place inside where she could build on his movements, follow the demands his

forceful thrusts wrung from her until she could match his rhythm. The crowd buzzed around her and the sheets rustled, fell away. He put his hands under her butt, lifting her, the anticipation building as she pumped her hips and listened to the voices around her gather, meld, then burst into a heated crescendo as Nick fucked her, his strokes matching the crowd’s building excitement until he roared as they screamed and she came and came and came, and he followed. Nick collapsed on top of her, still holding on while chilly air swirled around them, cooling the sweat that held them chest to breast, pussy to cock. He’d never had such an incredible ride. He kissed her softly, felt her lips curve into a smile he knew he’d helped put there. He brushed over the blindfold reverently and kissed down her check, nuzzling her neck. The sweat-slicked invitation of her rosy breasts drew him and he suckled a nipple into his mouth, tugging when she shuddered beneath him. He waited until her shudders subsided before he slid out of her and disposed of the condom. She was so beautiful, sagging against the pillows, her mouth swollen, juicy and pink from his kisses. Bliss Harper had been surprising him since he’d stumbled onto her strip-tease a decade ago, and he was damned if he was going to spend another decade wondering what other surprises he might be missing out on. She was as sexually adventurous as he could ever want, and if he knew anything about himself, he knew he wanted more. He leaned over and kissed her pussy. She spread her legs, murmuring something unintelligible while he untied her hands, slipping her from her bonds before tugging the blindfold free. She blinked drowsily, a sated smile curving her mouth. “I’m so glad we didn’t bother with further negotiations,” she groaned, chuckling. “I should probably educate you about blanket proposals and how dangerous they can be,” he said, unable to resist swiping his tongue against her slit, teasing them both. “I’m still exploring options for the agreed-to terms before I deliver you back to the house, where you can tip-toe up the stairs with your come-fuck me-shoes dangling from your fingertips, smelling like sex and sin. “You’ve already got whisker burns on your jaw,” he said glancing up. “I shaved twice today, but the evidence is clear. Everyone’s going to know what you’ve been up to. You should have requested a clause that offered better protection. Made you feel safe.” She stretched her arms overhead, pointing her toes, all that luscious pink skin on display. “I’m as safe as I want to be tonight,” she laughed. “Now, what are these options you’re

exploring? Are you going to give me any hints?”

Chapter Five

He left her to her guessing and filled the large, round sunken tub with its very handy slanted step. He blessed Harlan’s designer while Bliss lay back against it like an indolent goddess and he washed her, worshipping every crevice and hollow with a nubby cloth and silky, melon scented soap. And then she insisted upon returning the favor. By the time he wrapped her in a bath sheet that could have doubled as a toga and carried her back to bed, she was all rosy and ready for more. He tumbled her onto the bed, rolling her like Cleopatra out of the rug. Her head cradled on two pillows, she reached for him, her arms going around him when he covered her. He was never going to get enough of her mouth, he thought as he kissed her and she squirmed, sliding her lips away. “I don’t know how you’re going to top public sex, Mr. Santucci but I’m more than willing to experiment some more,” she said, reaching between them, searching out his cock while she licked her lips, suggestively, “in the name of exploring all of my options, of course.” “Feel like exploring?” She wound her fingers around him, nudging the ridge under his crown with her knuckle. “Oh, yeah,” she said, working her palm farther down his shaft, massaging his growing length. He lifted, straddling her on all fours and turning, his cock dangling above her lips. “I’m all yours.” She glanced between them and he smiled, knowing she saw the same picture in the mirrored wall that he saw, right before he bent over her pussy. He touched the tip of his tongue to her clit, flicking it slowly as he lowered his hips and was drawn into her warm mouth. She suckled the crown, exploring the ridge with her tongue while her fingers played over his shaft, and she strummed his balls with the edge of her nails.

She took him all the way down her throat and he had to stop and grab two handfuls of the bed-sheet, bracing himself while he watched, mesmerized by the sight. He lifted his head so he could see her glistening pussy reflected back at him, her mouth on him, pulling him in, her hand pumping him. He stroked the inside of her mouth, let her take as much of him as she wanted, his attention divided between their reflection and the sight of Bliss swallowing his cock. The idea of never having her again, never seeing her excitement, or feeling her arms wrapped around him while she came screaming, tripped him up and was the only thing that kept him from coming when she palmed his balls and gave them a gentle squeeze. He raised his hips slowly, teasing himself, feeling her lips grow slack as she gave him up. But she was grinning and crooking her finger at him. He flipped around and covered her, pressing into all of her softness. “I want you to be able to taste yourself on my lips,” she whispered, chuckling as he lowered, kissing her. He groaned into her mouth, tasting himself while he explored her lips, and the tender curve of her tongue as it dueled with his. He would have gladly stayed the rest of the night with his lips locked onto hers but he wanted more. He wanted Bliss to want more.

Bliss reached for him when he slid away from her mouth, but Nick, it seemed, was not to be deterred. He mouthed her throat and the hollow that bisected her collarbone, licked over her breasts, lifting them to his mouth, suckling one nipple while he massaged the other. She settled into the pleasure and let her fingertips drift over the wide expanse of his shoulders. Her touch seemed to excite him more and she let herself be taken by the pull of his mouth. Sliding her fingers into his cool, silky hair, she couldn’t give up touching him. He kissed a path to her navel, pressing warmly against the little well where her belly-ring rested, tugging the delicate chain looping through it possessively before following the end down, toward the rose charm that rested above her clit. He pressed the tip of his tongue against the swollen nub of flesh and she rolled into the sensation. He used one finger to separate her, and her inner lips twitched against it, quivering as he pumped into her, promising more. She traced the whorl of his ears, possessively, tenderly; drowning in the sensation of being filled but still wanting to be grounded, wanting to be aware that he was more than a mouth and fingers. More than an orgasm or the culmination of a fantasy.

She stroked his soft lobes while he lapped at her clit and slid another finger into her, then another, pumping her so sweetly she rose with each subtle request, lifting into his mouth and demanding thrusts, again and again until she came, and still he suckled and pumped, absorbing her wild thrusts and pushing her over the brink into another orgasm. He didn’t move while she quivered beneath his mouth and hand, but followed her down as she spiraled, her last fluttering response, pulsing against him. She shuddered when he slid away, opening her eyes to find him poised above her, his face wet with her cream. She barely had the energy to utter a cry when he flipped her over and settled his lips over her butterfly tattoo, licking between the fairy blue wings into the cleft of her ass. “Do you feel the need to negotiate your options?” he asked, his warm breath caressing her. “Are there any terms you’d like to discuss?” She smiled into her pillow and bit her lip. “I’ve never considered…um, this option.” “In all fairness,” he said, licking into her while she gasped and writhed. “Being in a position of power, I did leave the original terms purposely vague.” She slid a glance over her shoulder and another shiver of excitement gripped her. “What position of power could you have been in when you decided the terms?” His cocky smile intrigued her. “You put your hands between my legs when I laid you in bed and demanded to pay me back for saving you. You wouldn’t let go until I signed an IOU for a night of bad-boy sex on the back of an old pizza receipt.” She frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. I should have been the one to sign the IOU.” “You were too drunk to make much sense but you wanted some sweaty, dirty bad-boy sex and I was about to come in my jeans. If I let you hold the IOU, you got to make up your mind whether or not that’s what you really wanted.” “If I wasn’t positive you’re so drunk you don’t know what you’re doing, we’d be having sex. Hell we would have had sex in the car. You still want me when you wake up, baby you just have to call.” She blinked, remembering all too clearly, her public meltdown, the strip-tease at Dawg House, and the police raid he’d saved her from. Then making Nick sign the IOU on the back of the first receipt she’d ever accepted from him. She’d held onto it for four years, keeping it in her underwear drawer until he’d tumbled her almost naked into her lonely bed, and left her there. With a promise.

For the first time that night she felt totally naked, and he must have sensed it because he flipped her back over and slid up against her. “I thought you might call me before you left town. I was almost glad you didn’t,” he said, shaking his head. “I had a lot of responsibilities in those days and you would have been a distraction I couldn’t have resisted. If we would have hooked up then…” It was her turn to shake her head. “I was mad at everyone that night because Elliot had dumped me, but when I woke up I realized that I was afraid of you. I was afraid if I called in your marker I’d be tempted to follow you instead of standing on my own two feet and making something of myself. I didn’t want to wake up one day and resent you because I didn’t have the guts to try. You were better as a fantasy.” “And now?” he whispered. She bit her lip when he pulled her pelvis closer, pressing his erection against her. “As a fantasy, you’ve exceeded all expectations, more than fulfilled your obligation.” She took a deep breath. “And I find myself wanting more.” He kissed her hard and deep, “I think I can work with that. You still get to decide whether or not you want to consider the option left open by my last…suggestion.” Once she would have listened to the dull little voice screaming a warning that he could disrupt her life for more than one night, make her give into the secret longings that whispered to her now. Nick Santucci still tempted her beyond the limits she’d set for herself. “Remind me,” she said, ignoring the little voice that had kept her safe and alone. She had a fleeting thought that her mouth was going to be swollen from so much kissing when he took it again, this time gently, almost reverently. He reached over her and pulled out the nightstand drawer, gathering a tube of serious looking lubrication and a condom. She rolled over, holding his gaze as he slid down her back and she spread her legs. He lifted her hips and rolled a pillow under her. She closed her eyes and heard him rustling the lube open. His lips, familiar now, skimmed down her neck, her back, softly determined as they settled over the slope of her ass, and licked down the crevice. He spread her cheeks, blowing warm air against her. She shuddered, smiling once again into her pillow, sighing as he spread the thick lube in swirling circles around her puckered hole. He slipped another finger into her pussy, and the sensation spiraled back and forth, her blood gathering, her pussy swelling as he slipped one oily finger deeper into her ass, and then

another. She grabbed handfuls of the pillow, arching into the pleasant bite of two fingers strumming her to pleasure while a third lulled her. He nipped along her hip, one more distraction, but not enough to keep her muscles from gathering, her nipples from puckering. She tensed as the pressure built until it was almost painful and she began to thrust. He slipped his fingers from her, rolling her over in one smooth motion. Sweat slicking his muscles, he looked hard, powerful. “Put the condom on me,” he growled, and she thrilled to his brusque command, reached for the foil packet and hands shaking, rolled it over him. Every nerve she possessed was poised to accept him while he drew his heavy erection down, positioned it along her slit and slid into her pussy, filling her, thrusting slowly, teasing her with another climb toward the release she knew he could give her. She closed her eyes, meeting his thrust. “Look at me,” he rasped, and she opened her eyes and saw the possessiveness she hadn’t been sure of before. “Why now?” he asked with one perfect stroke that lifted her from the pillow beneath her ass. He was stopping now? “I wanted to know,” she gasped, grabbing at his arms for purchase. “I’d fantasized long enough, I wanted the real deal.” “What’s the real deal for you, Bliss?” he asked, thrusting deeper, and stopping, “happily ever after?” She laughed, a painful bark that ended on a sharp denial, bare and open. “Who comes to a ten year reunion looking for happily ever after?” she panted, caught between wanting more and wanting to know. “Everyone,” he said, his breath soughing all around her as he lowered his head, kissing her, reaching for more than the brush of lips. “Me,” he whispered, and something inside of her broke, crumbled against every defense she’d ever had. She opened her mouth but nothing came out and she was aware of a single tear leaking from the corner of her eye. He slipped out of her and she thought he was leaving her. She held on harder, gripping his forearms. Then he smiled and rubbed just the slippery tip of the condom covering the crown of his cock against her hole. “You’re in a position of power right now, with your pretty ass up in the air and me waiting to see if you want to review your options,” he said, making wider circles until she relaxed, felt him poised and ready, nudging her entrance just enough to keep her attention.

“You’re trying awfully hard,” she gasped as he changed to a slippery up and down motion, “to convince me that you’re giving in to my demands.” “I don’t want any mistakes about the terms,” he said, as the pressure to have him inside her built and she rotated her hips and pushed. His fingers dug into her ass and she felt herself open, his crown resting against her. “You don’t see this as having an unfair advantage?” she whispered, her body quivering, wanting more, wanting him. “You could have called in my marker anytime the past ten years. Why did you wait until now?” “You already asked me that,” she said, squirming. “That was a very old receipt, Bliss. We stopped using them your first year because the price went up. It was in your underwear drawer,” he said, panting, sweat beading his face, pouring down his chest, slicking his arms. “I thought you were going after a bra, and all the time it was an old receipt that you had to have kept for years.” “Yes,” she whispered, negotiating for terms she wasn’t ready to put into words yet. Not with her body clamoring for release. She wanted him so badly she could scream, and Nick Santucci looked like he just closed a deal he’d been worried about. She was in so much trouble, but she was ready. “Finish me now and I promise…we can negotiate new terms after we close this deal.” “As long as you understand, we do need new terms,” he said and she felt him ease into her, and she was so ready she cried out and widened her legs, slipped them over his shoulders when he pressed closer. He came down slowly, leveraging himself on his hands and she knew he was coming for her mouth. She held onto his arms and curled herself into his possessive kiss, the claim thrilling her as much the pleasure coiling through her body, tight and needy. She licked a bead of sweat from the corner of his mouth, “Dirty, sweaty, bad-boy sex. I don’t think I’m ever going to get enough,” she gasped as his thrusts became faster and she couldn’t get close enough. He smiled down into her eyes and she laughed. She felt him tighten, the cords in his neck distending, his fingers gripping her shoulders as he opened his mouth and suddenly she was at the top of the roller coaster. This time, his roar sending her tumbling into her own orgasm, and she held on because she knew she never wanted

to let go. He stilled, holding himself rigid and she knew he was waiting for her clutching tremors to subside. Waiting until the last bit of pleasure drained away. When he finally slipped out of her, he disposed of the condom and slid back into bed. He curled around her, spooning against her back, and said, “You do realize that you won’t be sneaking up Karen’s steps until about noon, don’t you? And even then I’m going to have trouble letting you go.” She smiled, pressing a kiss into the crook of his elbow. “I think I can live with those terms.”

Chapter Six

Forty-eight hours later Nick Santucci felt his phone buzz against his leg and smiled. Harold Stinson was smiling like he had Nick’s client, Emmanuel Jeffries over a barrel. But his father’s old business partner seemed to have forgotten one very important rule of business: people you’d already cheated knew how you operated, and adjusted accordingly. They were also fond of extracting a pound of flesh you wouldn’t miss until after the fact. His phone buzzed again and he excused himself while Jeffries pretended to look over the contract he knew inside out. He could have checked his message in the hallway of Jeffries Industries but he slipped into an empty meeting room and flipped open his phone. He smiled at the message and knew he’d negotiated perfectly. IOU, many nights of come-fuck-me bad-girl sex. Sending you a ticket for fashion week in Milan. I know an elevator you’re going to love. Bliss. Happily ever after never sounded so good.

The End

About the Author

I have never been a one size fits all kind of person. I love diversity, that spark of what makes each one of us unique. Growing up in the Midwest was a learning experience. I was the girl who wore strange outfits to school, loved history and was usually the best buddy of the boy-of-my-dreams. You know; the girl they confided in about the girl they really liked. I kept wondering why they couldn’t figure out they’d be better off with me. Oh yeah, they were boys. Don’t get me wrong, I adore men, and it’s a good thing. I have three of them! A husband and two sons who have kept me supplied with chocolate, wine and a good laugh whenever I’ve needed one. Did I mention that they cheered me on when they found out I was writing erotica? My heroes. I can't remember a time when I wasn't making up stories! I think that inside of every writer there is a visceral need, a passion to create an entertaining story. Learning to channel that into a career took some time. Along the way I've met some really good friends and have been mentored by some awesome writers. They have my affection and respect. I still live in the Midwest with my husband, who is also my best buddy. He makes me laugh on a daily basis. Both of our sons are happily pursuing their own creative careers, and oh yeah, I don’t have to wear pantyhose when I work. Who could ask for more?

Are you in the mood for another Carnal Reunion?

Find more of this delicious anthology now available at Resplendence Publishing

G-Spot by Taylor Tryst Lily Sutherland. No, Detective Lily Sutherland, a title she worked her ass off to earn, has returned to Heartwood Indiana for her ten-year college reunion. An ex-Lady Hawk, and a star athlete on the volleyball team, Lily used her competitive edge to win on the court. She dove into the male dominated world of law enforcement where she once again rocked the foundation and shot up the ranks to homicide detective in record time. As far as Lily is concerned, she’s just one of the boys until she reunites with Dakota Reese, the love of her life.

Special Agent Dakota Reese has always been too smart for his own damn good. Specializing in serial cases, Dakota attends his college reunion at Western Indiana University for what he believes will be a reprieve, only to discover that his life just became much harder…literally, when he see’s Lily Sutherland at the grand old Victorian down the street. Dakota and Lily had split amicably ten years prior, each of them marrying for all of the right reasons. Unfortunately, they married someone else, and were now both divorced. There’s a natural animosity between the cops and the feebs, but can Lily put their differences aside long enough for her ‘G Man’ to find her g spot and rock her world, forever?

Prisoner of the Heart by Anny Cook: When Rebecca Iversen graduated from college, she headed home with nothing on her mind but wedding plans. Less than a month later her plans were in ruins when she discovered she was pregnant the same week her fiance was arrested for selling drugs. Anxious to provide legitimacy for her child, she married Tom while he was still in jail. Years later, Becky finally divorced him, resolved to make a peaceful life for her children and herself.

When the reunion invitation from Karen arrived in her e-mail, her Aunt Mary urged her to take the time to enjoy a little adult time at the reunion.

Young Joe Harris lived across the street from the old Victorian where Becky lived during college. He spent those years secretly yearning for the “older woman”. Now that Becky is back and single, Joe plans to do everything in his power to convince her that he’s exactly the man she needs.

Nailed by Cindy Spencer Pape When shy scientist Karen Sikorski meets up with her college crush, Warner Beckett, sparks fly, but she knows the handsome contractor would never fall for a plain nerd like her. Warner, though, has other ideas. Smart, voluptuous Karen is everything he's ever wanted in a woman, and this time around, he's enough of a grown up to appreciate it. Now all he has to do is convince the lady he really does want her--in every way possible.

First and Ten by Fran Lee What Fran Jamison and Jack Gerrard have in common, you could balance on the head of a pin.

And to make things worse, Jack blew his chances to hell back in High School with the BBW.

Neither goes to their 10th college reunion expecting sparks to fly, but when they collide in the airport, painful old memories quickly evaporate to make way for two people desperately needing to scratch 12-year-old itches.

Jack royally blew it when he let other people's opinions stop him from pursuing the 5'11" bombshell so many years back, and by the time he realized he was a jackass and tried to apologize, a traumatized and hurt Fran had shredded his ego in public, leaving him to lick his wounds and move on.

She thought she would hate him on sight. She didn't. She thought she could walk away. She couldn't. She certainly didn't expect to find herself making out like a madwoman on the hood of a borrowed car in the airport parking ramp. But she did expect one thing...she was not going to walk away again. Not when he was so damn good at scratching those itches...

Training Randi by Tessie Bradford Miranda Ellson graduated from college with a degree in design in one hand and a ticket to London in the other. Ten years, five job changes and three boring, unfulfilling relationships later she’s back at WIU to re-connect with old friends, enjoy the campus activities and take a break from…oh who the hell is she kidding?

Jeff Briggs, former college neighbor and best bud, now successful gym owner, lives in town. He’s the only guy she has ever known who could set her panties on fire by simply walking into a room and Randi is sick and tired of only hooking up with him in her dreams. This may be her only chance to discover exactly what kind of personal training he has to offer.

Smokin’ Ace by Regina Carlysle

A college reunion and seeing her best ‘gal pals’ is just the thing widow and single mom, Chloe Wells needs to put a little oomph back into her boring, routine life. For her, those carefree years and the friendships she made with six other women in the old Victorian were unforgettable and, hey, what’s wrong with revisiting a past that was fun and full of laughter? But when she bumps into Michael “Ace” Banner other memories surface. Memories of hot nights and rumpled bed sheets. Memories of the loss of the one man who burned her to ash.

Former college tennis star, Ace Banner, now a renowned sports photographer, has just one chance to regain the love of pretty, sweet, very sexy Chloe. Yeah, he blew it years ago by walking away but he’s a man now and not about to let her get away again. Ace is prepared to pull out all the stops in reclaiming what he lost all those years ago. It’ll take a slow hand and an easy touch but he’s up for the challenge.

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Handcuffs and Lace

Resplendence Publishing’s Erotic Romance Line of Law Enforcement Themed Stories

What the Cuff? By Celia Kyle

God really should have reconsidered making werewolves. That, or Lyssa needed to get better taste in men and stay away from those with wandering eyes—and other things. Drunk as a wolf, she stumbles to her best friend’s house to sleep off her whiskey induced haze and wakes to…cuffs?

Caleb sees his chance and takes it. His buddies on the force ribbed him but good for buying silver plated cuffs. But with a werewolf in his bed, the woman he’s yearned for since they were teens, he wasn’t taking any chances. Lyssa was his. She just didn’t know it yet.

Ticket Me More by Tia Fanning Hailed by the bridal flower world as an artistic genius, Meli works long nights making bouquets for women lucky enough to find love, while she herself lives a life of solitude. She yearns to share her heart and body with someone other than Bob, her Battery Operated Boyfriend, but acute shyness keeps her from engaging the “living” world.

However, Meli’s quiet and predictable existence takes an unexpected turn when she is pulled over and ticketed by the most gorgeous cop she has ever encountered—Officer Michael Johnson. Though he doesn’t seem to notice her as anything more than a traffic violation, Meli makes plans to overcome her timid nature and seize the police officer’s attention…using any speed necessary.

Handcuffs and Lies by Bronwyn Green Sometimes promises to friends are the hardest to keep. Undercover police officer, Michael Tanner, promised his dying partner that he’d take care of the man’s little sister. Trouble is, after her brother’s death, Doctor Tori Spinelli wants nothing to do with Michael—or any other cop for that matter.

Tori has always fought against overprotective men and deception. Forced into protective custody with Michael, she’s now faced with both in the same package. Despite their differences, Tori falls in love with him, but how can she trust a man who lies for a living?

Search Me Baby, One More Time by Melinda Barron Wren Thornberry’s life isn’t going according to plan. She let her father talk her out of marrying Bryan Stockard, the man she loves, and moved halfway around the world. Now she’s back home in Texas, babysitting her grandmother while grandma and her boy-toy work through their list of sexual exploits, making themselves the talk of the town.

But what Wren doesn’t know is that things in her hometown are about to heat up even more, and it will have nothing to do with her grandmother. It seems that Bryan Stockard is still around, he wants to get back into Wren’s life—by any means necessary, and now he has just the tools to do it: A police uniform, handcuffs, and the authority to make Wren assume the position.

Cuff Me Lacy by Demi Alex Three months is way too long to wait for some simple, low-down, straight forward sex. It’s not like Officer Chrissie Hansen is asking for prince charming to offer her the love of a lifetime. All she wants is a good orgasm that she doesn’t have to work for alone.

At least with “The Bull” she knows what to expect. But when Patrick MacKlick returns to her life and tempts her with new options, she discovers that lace can imprison a heart better than handcuffs can.

Going Commando by Catherine Chernow Bounty hunter Shyra Lawrence listens to her favorite radio station one morning where the DJ’s are discussing “going commando” —a.k.a wearing no undies. Captivated by their conversation, she decides to shed her panties in favor of the freedom that wearing no underwear brings.

Enthusiastic, Shyra sends an email to her best friend, Donna, detailing the delights of pantyfreedom, but unbeknownst to Shyra, she’s hit the send key...to the wrong email addy!

When Derek Grayson opens his emails that morning, he discovers that his #1 employee and top bounty hunter has sent him an erotic, enticing message about going commando. Derek has always been polite, professional, and so damned attracted to Shyra that it’s almost painful. Working day in and day out with voluptuous woman has sent Derek’s hormones into overdrive on more than one occasion.

Now, Shyra’s shed her panties and Derek’s got all he can do to contain his lust when she announces that she’s... GOING COMMANDO.

Also available from Resplendence Publishing

Scorcher by Celia Kyle Phoebe’s a salamander with a problem. Fire is her element, her very best friend, and the core of her nature. But she can’t control it worth a darn. One decent temper tantrum and poof! Fire galore. Good thing she lives in the desert with nary a tree in sight. Well, there are a few bushes and such. And her house. And a few cacti...sorta. At least until she’d gotten mad over getting stuck by one of the darned things...

Brant lives by fire and dies by fire. Literally. As Fire Chief, it’s his job to stamp out fires in Winthrop, making sure residents of the small town in the back woods of Arizona don’t have to worry about fire taking their businesses and homes. As a phoenix, he has the ability to sense fires the moment they start. It’s a handy talent that keeps the residents safe. Except for his girlfriend, who seems to be able to blow up just about everything, including the stove.

Red: A Seduction Tale by Maddie James Garnet Boudreaux is going home. Not back to her nice little apartment in New York City, but to her childhood home in the bayou. She doesn’t want to go, and isn’t certain what will be waiting for her when she arrives. But standing there in the voodoo shop on Bourbon Street, in the middle of one helluva party, she’s told by Madame Madeleine Dupuis that she has no choice. She presses two pouches into Garnet’s hands, wraps a red cape around her, and tells her she must go—and go now—to see to her grandmother.

Max LeBlanc spies the lovely redhead across the street and knows in a heartbeat that she is the one. A rougarou always knows when he’s met his mate. Some may call him a lycanthrope, a werewolf if you will, but in Cajun bayou lands, he’s known simply as The Rougarou. He’d waited several hundred years for this moment, and for her. There is nothing left for him to do but mark her and claim her as his mate. Soon.

Oriana and the Three Werebears by Tia Fanning Oriana Ricci has taken over the family business—flying cargo and rich tourists around Alaska’s barely inhabited Kodiak Archipelago. When her plane malfunctions and she’s forced to make an emergency landing, she finds herself stranded in the middle of a National Wildlife Refuge. With no civilization for miles and no hope of rescue, she thinks all is lost…

Until she stumbles upon the entrance to an underground bunker.

Jack, Jordan, and Jonathan McMathan own and operate a secret intelligence firm contracted by the US Government. Hidden away in an old Cold War spy station located the middle of the Kodiak National Wildlife Refuge, the brothers are not only able to do their top secret jobs safely without fear of discovery, but are better to protect their other, more personal secret: they have the ability to shift into Kodiak bears.

Like a fairy tale gone bad, the brothers return home to find their lunch tasted—or eaten, their computer chairs adjusted—or broken, and a beautiful blonde sleeping in one of their beds. This situation poses a big problem for the brothers…

Their location is now compromised. But more importantly, what are they to do with the lady?

Extinction by Carol Lynne

Professor of Environmental Science/Wildlife studies at UNLV, Jack McBain has spent his adult life trying to track a legend overheard during his youth. Born and raised in the Canadian Province of Newfoundland, Jack remembers his grandparents telling stories of a race of people eradicated by European settlers in 1829. According to the legend, the Beothuk people didn’t die out as first thought, but were transformed into wolf shifters.

When Newfoundland wolves began to appear in great numbers, the European settlers began killing them under the guise of population control. In 1910, the last of the Newfoundland wolves was shot, making them one of the few extinct species of wolves in the world.

Following spotty leads, Jack begins to track what he believes are Beothuk/Newfoundland shifter wolves. His search leads him to the Lake Mead National Recreational Area outside of Las Vegas. There, on Spirit Mountain, he finally comes face to face with not only the shifter he’s been looking for, but the man of his dreams he didn’t know he needed.

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