Sunday, February 13, 2011

SOMETHING BLUE by Desiree Holt, Cerise DeLand and Allie Standifer


Book 4 in the Wedding Belles Series.

Clay Holbrook was still recovering from his wedding eve threesome with the bride and groom, depressed that he might never find the happiness Zoe and Brad did. But when bridesmaid Kristen Jayne sidles up to him at the bar every hormone in his body screams to get her naked and close as fast as he can.

During the long hours of the night they indulge in an endless, hot, erotic adventure, each using the wild, monkey sex to cloak their inner sadness. But with daylight comes reality. Can they take what they’ve found past the rumpled bed sheets and into a life together?



The Wedding Belles Series



By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

An Excerpt From: SOMETHING BLUE

Copyright © DESIREE HOLT, CERISE DELAND & ALLIE STANDIFER, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One



Clay Holbrook leaned against the bar, took a sip of his Jack Daniel’s on the rocks and looked around. The dance floor was full, and why not. The deejay hired for the wedding was playing a great mix of tunes and people loved to dance at special occasions. Couples of all ages were smiling at each other, happy in their own little worlds. Too damn bad he wasn’t one of them.

Not that he wasn’t happy for Zoe Fortunato and Brad McCoy. He and Zoe had been coupled up for two very good years. The sex had been off the charts. No doubt about it. But even he had to admit that the core emotional connection hadn’t been there. He’d hoped. Wished. But last night, when Zoe and Brad “borrowed” him so she could have a final ménage and figure out if marriage was still what she wanted, he’d had to face a stark truth. Zoe was desperately in love with Brad in a way she never had been with him. And Brad was totally committed to her. When Clay had watched them exchange vows a while ago there was no missing their look of bliss.

So now here he was, having his own little pity party. Hanging out alone at a bash jammed with couples. He let out a snort of laughter. He was the “something blue” at this wedding.

“Is this a private party or can anyone join?”

The throaty musical voice behind him jolted him out of his misery. He turned to see one of the bridesmaids—Kathy? Katie? Kristen? That was it. Kristen somebody. One of the bridesmaids. Petite, like Zoe, but with much fuller curves. Lush, that was the word. His mouth automatically watered. Wild red curls were barely tamed by the satin headband and fiery green eyes almost made him forget how sorry for himself he was feeling.

His eyes dropped to the bodice of her strapless gown. And beneath it, her generous attributes.

“Well?” she prompted.

Brad realized she’d actually asked him a question. He dragged his gaze away from her breasts and unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth.

“Right. Sure. There’s always room for one more.”

“Then how about asking this nice bartender to fix me a drink?” She held out her hand and smiled. “Kristen Jaynes. Bridesmaid.”

“Clay Holbrook. Friend of the bride.” He closed his hand around hers and was stunned at the jolt of electricity that zinged along his nerves.

“Oh, yes. I know who you are.” She winked at him. “The hot guy who moved out of state. Zoe gave me all the details.”

Clay actually felt himself blushing. “All the details?”

Kristen’s mouth curved in a naughty smile. “Well, maybe not every single one.”

“Thank god for that.” Time to change the subject. “What are you drinking?”

“Actually, I’d like a beer. I know, I know,” she said when he stared at her, brows high. “I’m supposed to be drinking a ladylike glass of wine. But the last thing I feel right now is ladylike, so a light beer, if he’s got it.”

The bartender had heard and was already setting her order on the bar.

Clay handed her the cold bottle of beer. “Don’t tell me you’re having a crappy day, too.”

She took a long pull at the liquid. Clay was mesmerized watching the flexing of the muscles in her slender neck as she drank. Unselfconsciously she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Try crappy week. Month. Year.”

She sighed and those excellent breasts rose and fell. Clay took a healthy swallow of his own drink as his cock rose to attention.

Down, boy.

“I can’t believe someone as hot as you would have a crappy anything.”

She gave an unladylike snort. “Hot, huh? Well, hot doesn’t keep you from getting downsized…right out the door. Or keep your sleazy boyfriend from cheating on you. With your roommate. So how the hell do the two of you keep living together?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “I’d say that definitely qualifies as crappy. And only an idiot would cheat on you.”

She grinned. “That’s what I thought. When I threatened to cut off his balls he couldn’t take his naked ass out of my sight fast enough.”

Clay choked on his drink. “You go right for the jugular, don’t you?”

“You bet. Meanwhile, I’m camping out at my folks’ house in Austin while I take a look at my options, but you can imagine how much fun that is.”

He took her beer and put it and his empty glass on the bar. “Maybe a dance will get your mind off things.”

He led her onto the dance floor, thankful the tune being played was slow and mellow. Her body fit perfectly against his, her breasts pressing into his chest, his cock nestling against her tummy through the folds of the gown she wore. He was sure she could tell exactly how hard he was but she didn’t pull away when he tugged her closer.

God, she smelled wonderful. And danced like a dream. Her body was a soft bundle in his arms, her scent tickling his nose, her red curls like coils of velvet against his chin. Suddenly his self-pity about his solitary state began to fade and other thoughts filtered in. Here he was dancing with a mouthwatering woman in his arms, one who smelled delightful and made his testosterone level shoot off the charts. What right did he have to feel sorry for himself?

He slid his arm down her back until he reached the curve of her buttocks. When he gently squeezed the nicely rounded flesh he waited for her to object. Shove him away. Instead, if possible, she crowded even closer and hummed against his shirt.

“Nice ass,” he murmured in her ear.

“Too big,” she objected without looking up at him.

He tightened his hand. “Are you kidding? It’s just the right size. I’m actually an ass man myself.”

She giggled and her body shook in his embrace. “Then I guess you’re with the right person because I’ve got more than I need.”

He squeezed a little harder. “Feels just right to me.”

“Something else feels just right to me, too,” she laughed, pressing harder against his swollen shaft.

All right, then!

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