Somebody's Wife: The Jackson Brothers, Book 3 (12 page)

Christ, he loved her hot and out of control like this. Then her inner muscles clamped down on him as her orgasm began to ripple through her. She panted, moaned, tightened her thighs along his hips and bucked on him.

Her climax wrenched his from him, and he shot high inside her, shouting out her name.

Moments later, his limbs still jerking, he pulled her down, wrapping her in his arms. “Jesus,” he muttered against her fragrant hair.

“That was so hot, baby. I want us to do her just like that, me on your cock and you with your face buried in her pussy.

Drew laughed. “God, you’re filthy.”

She tipped her head back, grinned at him. “And you love it.”

Yes, he did. “You amaze me.” Cat was special, gorgeous, with a slim, athletic body that made him crazy and a kinky, naughty attitude toward sex that was more male than female. They’d once hired a Las Vegas call girl to watch them have sex. Cat was an exhibitionist. They’d been married for ten years, Cat was thirty-eight, he was seven years older, and their sex life was still fantastic.

She nuzzled his neck. “I know how much you love licking a woman, and that’s what I want to give you.”

“You’re too good to me, sweetheart.” He kissed her forehead as if she’d just made him a great meal instead of offered up another woman to him. She honestly did not have a jealous bone in her body. They did a lot of fantasizing, imagining sex with other couples they’d met, threesomes, foursomes. He knew she’d done a threesome before he met her, two men and her, but neither man was her boyfriend. She claimed that doing it with him, her husband, would be entirely different, taking things to a whole new level.

She stroked his cock to life again. “I just want to make sure you don’t get tired of having sex with me. Men need spice.”
She
needed spice, and her imagination was fertile with ways of getting it.

She loved role playing. She’d had him try to pick her up in a bar, pretending they didn’t know each other. He’d practically had to go to blows with another guy that was hitting on her. She’d loved the attention; then she’d fucked him in their car with the bartender having a smoke not ten feet away. She liked it risky, the fear of getting caught, public sex, in the back of a car, a dark bar, once on the hood in a parking garage. She thrived on anything edgy, always coming up with ways to keep their sex fresh. Cat needed to push her sexual limits; she needed fire.

Six months ago, they’d moved from fantasy into reality. At least they’d tried, meeting a couple off a personal ad Cat saw online. Unfortunately, nothing came of it. The couple was nice enough, married for twenty years, both in their early fifties rather than the mid-forties they’d claimed, and their definition of height-weight proportionate was not quite the same as Cat’s. Ultimately the attraction wasn’t there. Either you felt it, or you didn’t.

Lying in his arms, Cat plucked at the hair on his chest. “I told Alexis that we always hot-tub in the nude.”

Drew chuckled. “What did she say to that?”

He felt Cat’s shrug. “She just gave me a look.”

Tomorrow they were heading out for Tahoe where they’d rented a house close to the lake for a week. And they’d invited their neighbors. Logan and Alexis Hart had moved into their Saratoga neighborhood a little over a year ago. Alexis was a controller for a Silicon Valley microwave radio manufacturer, and Logan was CEO for a San Francisco-based Fortune 500 company. Like Drew and Cat, they had professional careers, double incomes, and no kids to tie them down. They’d gone from backyard barbecues to dinner and card games that lasted long past midnight. Now this, a week-long Tahoe vacation for some hiking, lake fishing, relaxing. And, if Cat had her way, some very kinky games.

“I’m dying to see how you’re going to bring up the subject of sex,” he mused.

Cat puffed a breath across his chest. “We’ve talked about sex before.”

“Sexual innuendo and jokes. It’s not the same as asking her if she’d like me to...”

“Make her come with your tongue.” Trust Cat to finish the thought. “Don’t you worry. I’ll find the perfect opening to get the ball rolling.”

“I’m sure you will.” His wife was out there, known for saying exactly what was on her mind. “What about Logan?”

She outright snorted. “He’s not going to be any problem at all.”

Drew had to agree. He didn’t believe Logan was a player, but the man had certainly gotten into the sexual innuendo thing with vigor. When Cat suggested strip poker instead of their regular game of Hearts on one of their card nights, Logan had jumped at the idea. It was Alexis who nixed it. She was a petite, pretty, blue-eyed blonde with sexy curves and mouth-watering breasts, but she was on the shy side, far more reserved than Cat. Drew liked her well enough. She was smart, funny, your basic all-around nice girl next door with the ability to really listen to what a man said, not just lip service. So to speak.

If Alexis didn’t want to play strip poker, there wasn’t a chance in hell she’d get down and dirty in the hot tub. Therein lay his main reservation about the whole idea; it could backfire and screw up a damn good friendship.

Cat tweaked his nipple, getting a rise out of his cock. “What if Logan wants a taste of me if you get a taste of his wife?”

Drew had always known that any kinky play they engaged in wouldn’t be just Cat watching him. She had a downright insatiable appetite for more, more, more. He had no illusions about what he was agreeing to. She would be doing whatever he did and probably a hell of a lot more, but when they finally had sex with another couple, he knew she’d make it totally hot. Maybe he was being led around by his dick—Cat usually managed to get exactly what she wanted—but he’d do it. And suffer the consequences, if any, later.

Trailing a hand down her abdomen, he delved between her legs, stroking her clit. She was wet and warm. “I’ll be jealous as hell,” he muttered.

Logan was a couple of years younger than Drew, a few rungs higher on the corporate ladder, CEO of a billion dollar company to Drew’s VP of Engineering for a medium-size software maker. With reddish hair, green eyes, and a gym-toned body Cat had mentioned a lot more than once, Logan was a good-looking guy.

Cat pushed him aside. “Oh baby, you make me so wet when you get all he-man.” She masturbated for him. He loved to watch. “But if you get her, he’ll insist on having me.”

“Yeah. He’ll beg to spread your gorgeous thighs.”

She moaned, getting herself worked up again with her fantasy scenario. He knew Cat. It was kinky sex, not the man himself that she needed. She wanted the package deal, a foursome. Drew didn’t have to be jealous, but he knew a little jealousy added to her sexual high.

The real truth? He didn’t know how he’d feel. Fantasizing about other men fucking Cat made him explosive in the heat of the moment. In reality, there might be a whole different set of emotions. He couldn’t be sure which ones he’d succumb to until they actually did it.

He started down her body, kissing her belly, her mound, then crawling between her legs. “Is this what you want him to do, baby?” He put his tongue to her.

“Oh yeah.” She moved sinuously. “I want your cock in my mouth at the same time. I want to come on his tongue while you come down my throat.”

She rose swiftly to climax, her body trembling. Cat loved her fantasies. She cried out, clamping her legs over his ears as she came hard. Drew loved how hot she made herself. He had no doubt that soon, very soon, she was going to make the fantasy into reality.

He just hoped it wouldn’t mean the end of a good friendship with their neighbors.

If you enjoyed this excerpt, here’s where you can buy
Kinky Neighbors
.
And don’t miss the sequel,
Kinky Neighbors Two

Erotic Romance by
Jasmine Haynes
:

Invitation to Seduction
, Open Invitation, Book 1

Invitation to Pleasure
, Open Invitation, Book 2

Invitation to Passion
, Open Invitation, Book 3

Twisted by Love
, Reincarnation Tales, Book 1

Revenge Sex
, West Coast, Book 1

Submitting to the Boss
, West Coast Series, Book 2

The Boss’s Daughter
, West Coast Series, Book 3

Take Your Pleasure

Take Your Pick

Anthology: Beauty or the Bitch & Free Fall

Past Midnight

What Happens After Dark

The Principal’s Office

Yours for the Night

Hers for the Evening

Mine Until Morning

The Fortune Hunter

Show and Tell

Fair Game

More Than a Night

The Max Starr Series
by Jasmine Haynes

Dead to the Max
, Book 1

Evil to the Max
, Book 2

Desperate to the Max
, Book 3

Power to the Max
, Book 4

Vengeance to the Max
, Book 5

She’s Gotta Be Mine Excerpt

Jasmine Haynes also writes as Jennifer Skully, funny, sexy, poignant contemporary romances. Here’s an introduction to Jennifer Skully’s Cottonmouth series!

She’s Gotta Be Mine

Cottonmouth Book 1

Copyright 2011 Jennifer Skully

Cover design by Rae Monet Inc

Dumped? For her husband’s high school sweetheart he hasn’t seen in twenty years? Roberta Jones Spivey isn’t going to lay down for that, no way. Instead, she decides to reinvent herself. The new Bobbie Jones—new haircut, new name, new attitude—will follow her soon-to-be ex to the small Northern California town of Cottonmouth. And there she’ll show him—and his sweetheart—what a big mistake he made.

What better way to show him what he’s missing in the brand new Bobbie Jones than taking up with the town’s local bad boy—who’s also reputed to be a serial killer. Nick Angel is devilishly handsome and sexy as all get-out. In a word, perfect.

It’s all going exactly according to plan...until a real murder rocks the little town of Cottonmouth. Of course, Nick didn’t do it...did he?

~Previously published in 2005 as
Sex and the Serial Killer
~

Excerpt

A mixture of red dye and sweat trickled down her forehead, hovered on her eyebrows, poised to drizzle into her eyes. Soon to be blinded by runaway hair products, Roberta Jones Spivey could force nothing more than a mousy squeak from her throat. She was about to go deaf, too, from the hairdryer blasting her eardrums, and still, she couldn’t open her mouth wide enough to shriek. Any moment now, her hair would spontaneously combust. They’d smell the smoke first, then the aroma of singed hair, but by the time any of the umpteen stylists scurrying about The Head Hunter’s main salon came to her rescue, she’d be bald. If not charred to a briquette.

Help me before my demise becomes a fifteen-second slot on a tabloid show
. Now was not the time for a panic attack.

Drip, drip, drip, from her eyebrows to her eyelashes. In a last ditch effort to save herself, she squeezed her eyes shut. Burning tears leaked out to mingle with the caustic fluids. She clamped onto the chair’s arms, a death grip, terrified that if she touched the stuff, she’d end up rubbing her flesh off, too.

Someone. Please. Notice me
.

The bowl of the dryer was suddenly jerked up, cool air from the overhead fans wafting across her scalp.

“Bobbie, honey, why didn’t you tell me the color was running?” Mimi was the only person who’d ever called her Bobbie.