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Authors: Myla Jackson

BOOK: Boots and Chaps
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The anticipation was killing Audrey. She wanted Jackson inside her so badly she might burst into yet another round of tears. What was wrong with her? She never cried.

“Please.” She grabbed his cheeks and forced him to stare into her eyes. “Please. I can’t take much more. Fuck me, Master.”

“I love it when you beg.” He kissed her and plunged into her, his cock spearing her, thrusting deep, hard and rough.

Just the way she liked it.

About the Author

Twenty years of livin’ and lovin’ on a South Texas ranch raising horses, cattle, ostriches and emus left an indelible impression on Myla Jackson, one she likes to instill in her red-hot stories. Myla pens wildly sexy, fun adventures of all genres including historical westerns, medieval, romantic suspense, contemporary and paranormal beasties of all shapes and sexy sizes. When she’s not wrangling words from her computer she’s snow-skiing, boating, riding her ATV or spending time with family. She lives in the tree-covered hills of Northwest Arkansas with her husband of 20+ years and her muses—human-wanna-be canines—Chewy and Sweetpea.

To learn more about Myla Jackson and her stories visit her website at
www.mylajackson.com
.

Look for these titles by Myla Jackson

Now Available:

 

Bound and Tied

Honor Bound

Duty Bound

River Bound

What do a madame and a bounty hunter have in common? They want the same man.

 

River Bound

© 2011 Myla Jackson

 

Bound and Tied, Book 3

When Rosalyn Smythe, aka Madame Rosie, steps aboard the Marie-Dearie, she hopes it’s the end of a year-long search for her runaway fiancé, Dalton Black. Her cabin holds a surprise: James McKendrick. Notorious bounty hunter, old lover…a man only too happy to help her clear the air—and her heart—of her murdering, thieving bastard fiancé once and for all.

In disguise as a riverboat gambler, Dalton is determined to find who framed him for killing two U.S. Army soldiers and who stole the gold they were carrying. He wants his life back—and his woman, who just happens to be on board and on the arm of his former best friend.

Convincing James he’s innocent is easier than winning back Rosalyn’s heart. Especially since Rosalyn seems to be enjoying their competition for her affections a little too much. There’s only one place to work out his dilemma. In bed.

As the sheets become unbearably hot, threads of evidence leading to the real killer are unraveling, leading toward one fateful card game—and one man who’s hell-bent on making sure Dalton has nothing left to lose.

Warning: This title contains hot ménage a trois scenes, bondage, and two men loving, sharing and fighting for the love of one woman with very specific bedroom desires and a bordello full of experience to tempt any man beyond redemption.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
River Bound:

Rosalyn was as beautiful as ever, even in her men’s garb, her slim legs encased in trousers.

Dalton’s body reacted as usual to the woman who’d always turned his head and set his heart to thumping. Her long black hair bounced down around her waist, the luxurious waves rich and beckoning for his hands to comb through them.

Pushing away from the wall, he stepped toward her. “Where have you been?”

“You’re the second person tonight who’s asked me that question. Not that it’s any of your business, but I was at the Rose Palace.”

“No… Where have you been for the past year?” He closed the distance between them and cupped her cheek.

Her chest rose with a quick indrawn breath. “Like you give a damn.”

“I did, but my being with you would only have caused you more trouble.”

“And I’m too fragile to handle trouble?” She snorted and tried to push him away.

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah, you asked me to marry you and the reality of it scared you so badly you jumped overboard is the more likely story.” She ducked under his arm and made to escape.

He caught her and shoved her against the wall, pinning her hands above her head. “You’re right. I got scared.”

“Exactly.”

“Not
of
you, but
for
you.” He pressed his body against hers. “That lynch mob was after someone to hang. If I hadn’t jumped in the water, you’d have been widowed before we’d married and they might have decided to hang you as well.” He held both of her wrists with one hand, the other skimming down over her neck. “I’d hate to see such a beautiful throat wasted on a hangman’s noose.”

“You’re very convincing, thief. But I’m not buying it.” She stood straight, defiant, her blue eyes flashing. “A year is a long time to think through all that happened.”

“Enough time to change your mind about marrying a gambler?” The weight of the ring in his pocket remained a stinging reminder of Rosalyn’s choice to end their engagement. “Enough time to transfer your affections to James?”

She smiled. “James loves me.”

Dalton’s lip curled back in a snarl. “He doesn’t know you like I do.” He leaned in and nipped her ear, enough to bring pain.

She gasped, her breasts pressing against him. “Oh, but he’s learning. He actually spanked me.” Her words were spoken with bravado, but her breath quivered afterward.

“It’s against his nature.”

“But with time…”

“He’s not the man you can spend the rest of your life with. You would walk all over him.”

“At least he won’t run off and leave me.”

“I told you I couldn’t help it.” Dalton captured her mouth with his, biting down on her lower lip, close to but not quite drawing blood.

Rosalyn moaned, her knee drawing up alongside his leg.

Dalton pinched a nipple through the fabric of the man’s shirt she wore. “He doesn’t make you beg for what you want.”

“How do you know you can? It’s been a long time.”

The gauntlet thrown, Dalton smiled. This was a challenge he could master. He yanked her hands down, urging her to her knees. “Get down, woman.”

“No.” She resisted, color flooding her cheeks.

“Get down and beg.”

“No.” Her voice quivered, her surrender inevitable.

He dropped down with her, dragging her to her knees. Once he had her there, he rose back to his feet, one hand resting on her shoulder, holding her there. “You are mine. I am your master. Or did you forget?”

“I belong to no one.”

“You belong to me. Let me remind you.” With one hand, Dalton loosened the buttons on his trousers, slipped his suspenders over his shoulders and pulled his cock free. Blood rushed through his veins. “You know you want it. Suck my cock, woman. Suck it hard.”

He held his stance rigid, his face stern, but inside his confidence wavered, wondering if Rosalyn was still the same lover she’d been a year ago. Would his forceful demand tempt her as before, or would it repel her? Dalton held his breath, awaiting her response.

 

“No.” She looked up at him, her eyes wide, her lips trembling. She’d always loved it when he forced her. He’d been the only man she’d let bend her to his will. With his dick hard and straight in front of her, she swallowed the lust rising in her and whispered, “I won’t.”

“You know you want it. Do as I say. I am the master.”

Every part of her body burned, urging her to take him in her hands, to run her fingers over his length and make him cry out with the pleasure her mouth would bring. If she gave in to their game, she’d be right back where they left off a year ago—at his mercy, giving him everything he demanded…surfacing her hidden desires for rough, nasty fucking. “Please, don’t make me do this.”

“Do it.” He tangled his hands in her hair and pulled her closer until his dick bumped against her face.

Automatically, her hands rose to circle his member. She moaned, her tongue reaching out to tentatively touch the velvety end of his cock. He tasted clean, salty and oh so good. How had she come to crave sex in such a forceful, decadent way? As her fingers stroked his length, she vowed to make him regret ever leaving her, to remind him of what she had promised when she agreed to marry him. She’d make him crave her like an alcoholic craving his next drink.

When he was completely at her mercy, she’d leave him. Only then would he understand the depths of despair she’d fallen to when he’d left her. Only then would he know how it felt to lose the air your body needed to remain alive from day to day.

“Suck it, woman,” he rumbled, less coherent, more of a groan.

“Yes, master.” She opened her mouth and took him in, sliding all the way over his length until the tip of his member bumped against the back of her throat.

His fingers convulsed in her hair, pulling hard until her scalp hurt, the pain only adding to the rise of lust inside her. Low in her belly she ached for release, ached to be naked. Craved to have him ram his cock into her, hard, rough and soon.

As her tongue swirled around his dick, her fingers worked the buttons of her shirt and trousers, feverishly loosening them, fearing that her plan to make him crave her had backfired. She didn’t care. She wanted her skin against his, his cock inside her, his hands touching her in all the most intimate places.

His body tensed, his hips pumping into her, increasing in speed, his cock swelling to hardened steel.

The frenzied pace only made her want more. She struggled with the buttons, her fingers useless, her body on fire.

Then he stiffened and yanked free of her mouth.

Rosalyn cried out, her hands reaching to take him back.

He didn’t let her, pulling her to her feet. “That was good, but it’s not enough.”

“It’s never enough,” she whimpered, falling into their old habits, the game they’d played a hundred times. Her eyes widened, pretending fear when all she felt was excitement, exhilaration and rampant lust.

“You’ve been a very bad girl. You deserve to be punished.”

“No, I’ve done what you asked.” She couldn’t stop the words, couldn’t change the story. At this point, she didn’t want to. She wanted what came next.

He pushed her against the wall. “You can’t escape me. I own you. You are mine to take whenever I want.” In a flash of movement, he bent to jerk her trousers down. The woolen fabric slipped down her hips. He pulled them off, over her boots, leaving her legs and ass bare.

Her body shivered, the anticipation building, her core wet and ready for his punishment. She bit hard on her lower lip to keep from begging him to take her.

Makin’ a list, and rocking it…twice.

 

The Naughty List

© 2011 Jodi Redford

 

Perpetual good girl Lacey McGuire has two Christmas wish lists. One suitable for public consumption…and a private one that’s too hot to handle. Right at the top: wild, wicked fantasies about her best buddies and business partners Ryan Hollister and Bram Colton.

Besides the fact they’re both poster boys for Hunks ’R’ Us, they’ve been there for her through thick, thin and the heartbreak of a cheating fiancé. So what if her boys will never know they star in her sexiest daydreams? In her fantasy world, her heart will never get trampled again.

Ry and Bram are pretty sure Lacey never meant to email a list of some of her raunchiest wants. Particularly the one that tightens their shorts—she wants a threesome. With them. Although they’ve loved her for years, they made a pact to keep Lacey off limits in order to protect their friendship. Now all bets are off. And the quest to give her all she wants—and more—is
on
.

Warning: This book contains a wickedly hot M/F/M ménage that will heat up the holidays. Friends steaming things up in a hot tub. Bondage and blindfolds. Sexy shenanigans at a Christmas tree lot. And maybe even a glimpse of Santa…in a Speedo.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
The Naughty List:

Bending, Bram slid his mouth over hers. The contrast of his warm lips and breath against her colder flesh was startling. His heat managed to kindle her body in more ways than one. By the time he broke the kiss, her inner temperature had skyrocketed by at least one hundred degrees. They pulled apart and she peeked sideways. Ry was staring at them, his eyes dark and intense. There was no mistaking the obvious bulge tenting the fly of his jeans.

Wow, did watching her and Bram kissing turn him on? The notion was both odd and arousing. Ry had such a strong possessive streak. She could only guess that he tended to be just as territorial when it came to his women.

Mulling back over that last thought, she realized where her misassumption lay. She wasn’t Ry’s woman. Why would he care who kissed her? Furthermore, of course he’d be aroused witnessing the kiss between her and Bram. For Pete’s sake, the two men intended to do a hell of a lot more than that with her together.

The reminder brought her jittery nerves back to the forefront. If she were to be completely honest with herself, what terrified her most was the possibility of being a huge disappointment to Ry and Bram. Smothering her sigh, she knelt and unzipped her boots before tugging them off. She couldn’t help being grateful for the radiant heating Bram had installed with his parquet floors. Her toes curling in appreciation of the cozy warmth, she straightened and hugged her chest.

“How about a glass of wine?” Bram offered, heading toward the kitchen. “I just opened a bottle.”

A fifth of tequila was more in order, but she kept the thought to herself. She didn’t want them to assume she needed to get snockered in order to go through with this. Even though she probably did.

Ry’s palm rubbed her tensed back, and she looked up at him. With his free arm, he gestured toward Bram, indicating that they should follow him.

Good idea. Standing all night in the entry clearly wouldn’t get them anywhere fast. Feeling like a doofus, she allowed Ry to lead her into the kitchen. While Bram grabbed a pair of crystal stemware from the rack and a cold beer from the fridge for Ry, she scooted onto one of the leather-capped barstools fronting the center island. She’d sat on this very seat numerous times, but she’d never once experienced the level of stomach-churning anxiety that she did now.

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