MASSEUR by Veronica Tower

MASSEUR by Veronica Tower

Playtime Series Book 2

On their 10th wedding anniversary, Edie and Jack vowed to reinvigorate their sex life and save their marriage through randomly selected fantasies. First up was Jack's fantasy starring Edie as a common streetwalker.

Now it's Edie's turn to call the shots, and she wants a little TLC.

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An Excerpt From: MASSEUR
Copyright © VERONICA TOWER , 2013
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Chapter One

Edie reached up to retrieve the breakfast bowl with the little folded pieces of paper inside it, an unusual twinge of hope sparking deep inside her body. The last time she and Jack had played this game, things had gotten really crazy, but it had still ended well. Who’d have thought that at the age of thirty she and her husband could still fool around in their car like a couple of horny teenagers? And who’d have thought that Jack would make the time to lie around cuddling with her afterward and talking about old times?

There was a smile on her face and a spring in her step as Edie turned around to place the bowl on the kitchen table.

Jack immediately reached for one of the folded up pieces, snatching up one of the slips of paper.
Edie’s good mood evaporated. “Hey!” she snapped at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to find out what we’re going to do for playtime this weekend,” Jack responded. His fingers never stopped opening the little piece of paper. He was a six-foot-two former high school quarterback with skin as white as Edie’s was dark. Unfortunately, while the high school glory years were twelve years in the past, he still liked to act as if he could run their household the same way he used to direct his team in the huddle.

Edie wasn’t putting up with that. “Well who says you get to be the one to choose the fantasy?”

Jack’s fingers stumbled as he looked up at her. “You picked last time. I thought this would be my turn. Doesn’t that seem fair to you?”

That did seem fair, but Edie still wasn’t happy with how Jack had taken control again. Dr. Phelps said these little fantasy games that they called playtime were supposed to bring them closer together. Edie didn’t feel close to Jack when he ran roughshod over her wishes. And she really didn’t trust him to play fair in this game. “Who’s to say you didn’t check out all of these pieces of paper over the course of the week and mark one so you could snatch it up like this and make us play another one of your fantasies?” she asked.

Jack frowned. He continued to hold the folded paper in his hands, but stopped opening it. “Who’s to say you didn’t do that?” he shot back at her.

It was just like him to try and turn the question back around on her. “I didn’t!” Edie told him.

“Neither did I!” Jack assured her.

“But how do I know?” Edie asked. “Last week when I picked, you mixed up the pieces of paper in the bowl and made me close my eyes. I think we should follow the same rules now.”

“All right, all right,” Jack grumbled as he tossed the paper back in the bowl.

Edie picked it up and refolded it. “Now close your eyes,” she told him.

Jack did as he was told and she relished the tiny victory. Then she mixed the five little folded slips of paper around with her fingers and told him he could pick one out.

Jack’s hand fumbled slightly for the edge of the bowl and then pulled out a slip of paper without any hesitation at all. “Can I open my eyes now?”

Edie didn’t like the sour expression on his face. “You know it’s unattractive when our kids pout, but it’s downright ugly when you do it!”

Jack laughed and started opening the new piece of paper. They’d started this game a week ago at the insistence of their marriage counselor. Edie had mixed feelings about the first game. On the one hand, it had succeeded in getting them to have sex for the first time in years, but the whole concept—Jack picking her up and paying her for sex like she was a streetwalker—still bothered Edie on some level. It had been hot and exciting—but there was no denying that their bumping and grinding had been sex and not lovemaking.

Still, Dr. Phelps seemed pleased with their experience. “It’s a start,” the woman had told them, “and you aren’t going to make any progress on your problems if you can’t make a start.”

Jack finished unfolding the piece of paper. “It’s one of yours,” he told her.

Edie leaned forward eagerly, wondering which one it was.

“Oh, Lord,” Jack said, grinning. “I thought you said you wanted romance.”

“I do want a little romance,” Edie insisted. “Which one is it?” She reached for the scrap of paper but he moved it away from her hand.

“Honestly, Edie,” he said. “This is one I could have come up with. After all your complaints about my streetwalker fantasy, you want exactly the same thing I did.”

“What are you talking about?” Edie snapped. This time she succeeded in snagging the slip of paper away from him. She turned it over so she could read her own handwriting.

I want to be teased and pampered by a professional masseur at a spa.

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MAGICAL KISS by Virginia Cavanaugh

MAGICAL KISS by Virginia Cavanaugh

Being a carnal magic user doesn’t make Breeze Hawthorne “easy”. In fact, she’s tired of the nasty names her kind tends to get labeled with. So when she finds herself paired with sexy water user Chehon McFlint, she’s determined to keep things professional, no matter how bad her body burns for him.

A horrid beast is about to break loose from an underwater prison and Breeze is running low on juice. When she fails to get hold of her usual service partner, she’s faced with a decision that could cost her emotionally. Chehon seems ready, willing and able to handle the job of recharging her, but Breeze isn’t so sure he’ll leave her heart intact when the job is over.

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An Excerpt From: MAGICAL KISS

Copyright © VIRGINIA CAVANAUGH, 2013

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

Chapter One

 

“This better be important.” Breeze Hawthorne pulled off her helmet, running one hand through her black-and-purple short hair. It had already been a long night, but she couldn’t ignore the last-minute text from her superior telling her she was needed ASAP. Working for Magical and Mystic Security had its days—well, mostly nights—that totally made her want to get out of the witch business for good. But one would have to have a choice to be able to get out and things don’t work that way in the magic business. The magic chose the person, not the other way around. Once you had it, you had it. Then you could only decide what to do with it.

Sure, she could open up a little shop and don the bright-colored dress and head covering, peddling potions and fortunes, but what would be the fun in that? Most nights she loved her job. Making other magical creatures quake in fear had its perks. And there was that whole saving humanity part that was cool too. But nights like tonight, when she had already needed to stop and shower off preternatural goo twice… Well, yeah, you get the picture.

Shadows danced in the dimly lit alleyway as a cat screeched and landed on a tin trash can with a metallic rumble. The man standing in the shadows pushed away from the cinderblock wall and began a slow cocky pace toward her. She knew that walk. It had been months since they’d been paired together. Chehon McFlint. A sexy warlock with nasty power. He drew his powers from the element water. And damn if he didn’t have the body of an Olympic swimmer.

He strode forward, and as he walked under the soft, yellow glow of a security light she could see his mischievous smile. His dirty-blond hair hung in waves that skimmed his strong shoulders. The baby-blue tank top he wore did little to hide his expansive sun-kissed chest. Smooth skin stretched tight over superb muscles. Damn if she wouldn’t mind having a bite of that. White cargo shorts hung low on his lean hips. The light waft of air brought his scent into her nose. Salt. Sea. Man.

Moisture gathered around her lower lips and she rocked forward on her motorcycle, applying pressure to her sensitive clit. Her energy was low. At least she blamed her body’s reaction to him on that, but in truth she’d wanted him for months. However, she drew the line at sleeping with possible partners. Being a carnal magic user, she had to be careful. Sex fueled her magic. Because of this, people in the witch and warlock community tended to treat her kind like whores and big ole sluts. She got no respect as a person, however, plenty was given to her as a witch. But only because carnal magic held the second most power, the first being blood magic. Those witches and warlocks were even rarer.

“Hello, Chehon. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

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LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW by Caitlyn Willows

LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW by Caitlyn Willows

Hot, hungry and horny, Jim’s looking for a night of scorching no-name sex.

Desperate to feel alive, Julia’s on the prowl for a hot, hard body before the Marine Corps sends her back to war.

Who knew a one-night stand could be more than either of them ever hoped for? Or that they’d have such little time to enjoy it?

Sometimes a person has to take a chance. Do something a little crazy. Live like there’s no tomorrow.

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~Excerpt~

“I need a name.” He had to have one. It drove him crazier by the second that she wouldn’t share it with him.

“For a drive-by, one-night stand? That was your intent, right?”

“Well…yeah. But I…” He couldn’t explain why it mattered. Hell, he didn’t know why it mattered. It just did. And what if she was a Marine? What about her rank? The whole fraternization thing? Fuck, he was going down for one rule-breaker after the other. But then, if she suspected he was a gunnery sergeant, she’d be on the watch for fraternization too. Maybe they were the same rank, or close, or…

“What are you calling me in your head?” Another naughty grin jerked his rambling thoughts to a halt. “Be nice now.”

“Little Red. Red.”

“Cute. Not very original, but it’ll do.” She took another bite.

And calling him Gunny was original? Subject closed. He let her win this round. The night was young and he was still horny. Getting hornier by the second.

Jim played out intelligent conversations in his head while they finished his burger then divvied up hers. Nothing scholarly came to mind. He was left with the basics.

Jim leaned back, one arm on the bench seat behind her, the other clutching the beer, ready to play twenty questions. One sip of his drink stopped him cold. He just couldn’t do it. He pushed the brew away, signaled the waitress, and ordered what he really wanted—wine.

“Make it two, please.”Red pushed her drink away too. “This lemonade isn’t working for me. And these drinks will be on me.” She scooted into the curve of his body. “That’s one pretense out of the way.”

“Speaking of which…”

She pressed her index finger against his lips. “No names, Gunny.”

It bugged the hell out of him. “All right.” For now.“Occupation?”

“Employed.”

“Come on, Red. Gimme something.”

She tickled her fingers down to his navel. “I’d hoped to give you a lot tonight.”

“You know me? Been here before? Have we met?”

Her laughter felt like spring, all bright and warm after a long, hard winter. “No…to all of the above.
This in my first time in here. And no, I’m not new in town.”

“So why tonight, here, me?”

“Goodness, so many questions.” She thanked the waitress for their wine, grabbed both glasses, and handed him one. “I came in here to meet a heartbroken girlfriend. She bailed. I was getting ready to leave and saw you looking all…needful. How could I possibly resist? Plus, I didn’t think a decent-looking guy like you deserved to get tangled up with any of this.” She waved her hand toward the other females in the bar.

“You do this often?” Now that was a nasty question, and Jim regretted it the second the words left his mouth.

Judging from the startled look in her eyes, the question had hurt. Red should have kneed him in the balls and taken off. Instead, those green eyes softened, settled on him…in him. “No. Never.
Sometimes a person has to take a chance. Do something a little crazy. I needed. You needed. Good?”

Jim had thought so at first. “Yeah…good.”

Red rested her hot palm on his thigh and cuddled in close. “I like dogs, gardening and hiking. I’m a nerd and proud of it. Your turn.”

“Friends call me Rod.”

That brought snickers and a Spock-like lift of her eyebrow.

“Short for Roderick, my last name. First name’s Jim.”

“Preferences?” She sipped her wine. His eyes locked on to how her lips glistened afterward.

Jim honestly didn’t give a damn what friends called him. The nickname had also morphed into his work life, making him Gunny Rod. But from a woman he wanted more. He needed intimacy, especially from this woman.

He laughed to himself at the irony of it all. He’d come for a hook-up and here he was assigning more to it, needing more from it.

“Jim. As long as you don’t add any Star Trek reference to it.” Though he wouldn’t mind if she did.
“Jim.” She kissed him, soft and sweet. No tongue, just lips pulling at his. Tempting, not teasing. A nibble, a pull. As if he were somebody more than a desert-dried Marine who hadn’t been laid in six months.


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STREETWALKER by Veronica Tower

STREETWALKER by Veronica Tower

Book 1 in the Playtime Series.

On their tenth wedding anniversary, Edie and Jack vow to reinvigorate their sex life and save their marriage through randomly selected fantasies. First drawn is Jack’s fantasy starring Edie as a common streetwalker. Equal parts enraged and aroused, Edie determines to blow Jack’s mind.

Luring him to a seedy section of town, Edie pulls out all the stops to give Jack exactly what he asked for - whether he can handle it or not. High on the erotic rush of newfound power over each other, the couple vows to take the game - and their marriage - to the next level.
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An Excerpt From: Streetwalker

Copyright © Veronica Tower, 2012

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

Edie Williams put down her pen and folded the strip of paper in half and then in half again. “All right,” she said. “That’s three fantasies. Now what do you want to do with them?”

“I’ll get a bowl,” her husband said as he pushed back his chair from the kitchen table and rose to his feet. Jack still looked good despite having turned thirty last month. He had dark brown hair and even browner eyes crowning a six foot-two frame that was still pretty lean despite the fact that he didn’t play sports or work out the way he used to. As she watched he fetched a breakfast bowl out of the cabinets above the sink and started back toward the table. When he caught her eyes he offered a tired smile.

Tired was a good way to describe everything about them these days.

Jack set the bowl on the table between them and quickly tossed the three folded pieces of paper in front of him inside. Edie didn’t immediately follow suit. “Wouldn’t it be easier to celebrate the big one-oh with dinner and a movie?”

Jack sighed. She’d been getting a lot of sighs from him the past few years and frankly she felt exactly the same way. When they’d married nine years and three hundred sixty-four days ago, she’d been giddily in love with her handsome white jock. But the honeymoon had ended with the birth of their first child and despite having gone on to have a second kid their marriage had never really recovered.
“You always say that dinner and a movie takes no imagination,” Jack reminded her. “This,” he indicated the scraps of paper in the bowl, “is imaginative almost by definition. We said we’d give it a try. So are we going to do it or do you want me to go back to sleeping on the couch?”

The couch comment hurt! When their son was diagnosed with epilepsy, she’d been so afraid he would die in his sleep that she’d brought him into their bedroom. Unfortunately, their full sized bed wasn’t really big enough for two adults and an eight-year-old, so Jack had agreed to sleep on the couch for a while. Neither one of them had expected him to still be there fifteen months later. It was only after they’d gone into counseling that Edie had been forced to take the steps necessary to let her little boy sleep on his own again so Jack could come back in the bedroom. But their fifteen months apart had dealt a nearly mortal blow to their already damaged marriage. Now they were in counseling trying to figure out if they could rebuild some of the love and excitement that had first brought the jock and cheerleader together, or if they were only going to hang on for the kids.

“I guess we can do it,” Edie agreed.

“Good, because I don’t understand what the problem is,” Jack said. “We haven’t had good sex in three or four years and haven’t had any at all since before Blake had his first seizure. We both agreed this is important and Dr. Phelps suggested this was a good way to break the ice and make sex fun again.”

“I said I’d do it!” Edie snapped. Angry now, she threw her three slips of paper into the bowl. “You don’t have to lecture me about it.”

“Good,” Jack said again. He resumed his seat across from her and retrieved one of the six slips of paper.

“Why do you get to be the one to choose?” Edie demanded.

“I’m not,” Jack assured her. “I’m just going to fold them up so you can’t tell whose is whose.”
“Like I’d really cheat,” Edie grumbled.

Jack ignored her, painstakingly folding each slip of paper over upon itself four or five times before chucking it back in the bowl and retrieving another. When he finished there were six tightly wadded notes sitting in the container. He mixed them up with his fingers and looked up at Edie.

“All right, it’s your turn. Close your eyes and pick one.”

Edie smothered the impulse to point out that he obviously still felt like he had the right to tell her what to do. She shut her eyes and plucked one of the wadded pieces of paper out of the breakfast dish. She hoped she got one of her own fantasy scenarios—she didn’t even want to think about what kind of crap Jack would write down.

She opened her eyes again. “Satisfied?”

He shrugged.

Edie unfolded the piece of paper and read what her husband had written.

A streetwalker turning a trick with her John.

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I CAUGHT THE SHERIFF by Cerise DeLand

I CAUGHT THE SHERIFF by Cerise DeLand

There’s a new sheriff in town with a strong need to show folks who’s boss.

But rancher Lex Coltrane has steered things here his way too long to let the sassy redhead with the curvy bod run wild. He figures he’d better catch the luscious sheriff and lay down the law.

Lana jumps at the chance to get Lex into her bed and show him what’s really beneath her badge. How she needs him, tough, tender, attentive. How she likes him, fierce, eager and dominant.

She knows who’s in charge in Lex’s bed is always Lex. But who’s in charge out of it?

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An Excerpt From: I CAUGHT THE SHERIFF

Copyright © CERISE DELAND, 2011

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

Chapter One



On a one-hundred-degree Fourth of July in south Texas, Lex Coltrane gazed out upon his two burning problems. One stood across the street glaring back at him. He was the crusty old dude who’d bought the ranch down the road a piece and hogged all the water in High Maria Creek. The other headed toward Lex on a horse. She was a long, tall drink of cool tea by the name of “Red” Foster, the newly appointed local sheriff, who filled out a pair of jeans like she’d been born in them and who, if she did not help him soon with his neighbor, needed a whipping something bad.

“And I am just the man to give it to you, too,” Lex murmured as he watched her ride past, waving to the Fourth of July crowd like a prize filly at a beauty pageant.

“Nice piece of horseflesh.” Lex’s buddy Zack Christianson nodded toward the redhead who sat her quarter horse as regal as the barrel-racing queen she had been at fifteen. “She looks even better than when she was the captain of the cheerleading squad. That was more than ten years ago. How does she do that?”

“She’s used to the saddle, Zack.” The way her thighs hug that mount, she’s an expert at controlling animals. Too bad she has failed to ride herd on my new idiot neighbor. “Working as a deputy down in Zapata County, she patrolled the Rio Grande border every day on horseback.” Lex knew because he sat on the county council that had reviewed her resume.

Zack cocked a brow. “She could patrol me every day and I’d be just fine about it.”

“Dream on, man.” I do. Shifting to calm his cock, Lex watched her pass and kept his eyes glued to her firm little ass. “Word around town is she’s not looking for a man to keep her bed warm at night.”

Zack pushed his white Stetson up his forehead and grinned. “Hell, that’s fine by me. I just want a taste of that sugar, not an all-night meal.”

“Your divorce has got you down, Zack. Not good to limit your time with a woman before you’ve even talked to her. Come on,” Lex urged his friend, “let me buy you a beer over at the fairgrounds. I want to take a look at a few of the entries in the 4-H competition.”

“I never refuse the offer of a beer and I’m always looking for good stock.” Zack fell in step beside Lex as they strode through town toward the pens on the fairgrounds.

The crowds were thick, and it just so happened that Lex and Zack kept pace right behind the end of the parade. This, Lex noted with a twist of his lips, allowed him a continuing view of the rear end of the Bandera County Sheriff’s Posse and the tight butt of their new boss lady.

But Ted Plumber stepped right in front of him and obstructed his vision.

“Hey, hey, hey, Red!” he called to her above the din of the brass band and the happy crowd. “Hey, baby!”

“Drunk at eleven in the morning?” Zack winced. “Hell, Ted’s getting worse every day.”

Lex saw him reach up to pull the sexy sheriff from her saddle. “Oh, brother. Look out now. She won’t stand for that.”

Zack growled. “She shouldn’t either. The long arm of the law doesn’t want to be cuddled.”

“Or manhandled. Come on.” Lex thumped his buddy on the shoulder and plowed his way through the crowd to get to Lana Foster.

He and Zack got to her side just as their very drunk pal was tugging at her long, white shirt sleeve.

“Sir!” She leaned over in the saddle to frown at the man who plucked at her clothes. “Take your hands off me.”

“Lana! Baby!” Ted grinned like a slobbering kid. “Come on down here, girl, and gimme a big smacker. Right…” He tapped his puckered lips. “Here.”

“Sir, I am very sorry,” she told him in a no-nonsense tone, “but please remove your hands from me.”

“Aw. You remember me! Ted! From high school! Math class. You were so good.” He swept his wide-brimmed cowboy hat from his head in a gentleman’s gesture of respect. “A kiss. Let’s get to it.”

“Ted!” Lex looped an arm under Ted’s while Zack took the man’s other arm. “What say we take you home?”

“No! Party’s jush getting started, Lex. Lemme go.” He tugged to get loose.

Lex held him tighter. “You are making a scene here, Ted. Time to go.”

In a wrench that broke him free of Lex and Zack, Ted lurched toward Lana Foster who had, in the meantime, climbed down from her horse.

This time when Ted went to grab her, he got her around the neck.

She yelped, but braced her legs and in a lightning move, shrugged and threw the man off her back. Zap. Ted was on the dusty ground, scrambling up, dirty and mad as a wet hen.

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ME AND MR. JONES by Cerise DeLand

ME AND MR. JONES by Cerise DeLand

What woman wouldn't crave an annual erotic, exotic rendezvous? With a demanding lover who's proven he's as scintillating and devoted in bed as out?

Corin Campbell tears open the instructions for her yearly tryst with her insatiable Mr. Jones, eager to experience what heart-pounding excitements he's created for them this year in Paris.

Corin knows the Chinese love balls, her leather outfit, the masseur, the caviar and the five exhibitionists are only the prelude to hours of intoxicating delight in Jones' arms.

What can he teach her this year about the enduring charm of his loving and the delights only he can summon?

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An Excerpt From: ME AND MR. JONES

Copyright © CERISE DELAND, 2011

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

Chapter One



Corin stood in the stalled Immigration line at Charles DeGaulle Airport with an impatience that bubbled like champagne in her stomach. Sure, she had jet lag. Who wouldn’t after six hours on a plane from New York? In a cramped seat in the back hugging the stewardesses’s food stations, she’d barely slept. Couldn’t eat. Plus, she was certain she looked like hell.

Bleary-eyed. Little makeup. Jeans. Black turtleneck. How much worse could she look as she entered the City of Light and Love for her annual rendezvous with her longtime lover?

Okay! Enough. She pressed a hand to her thumping heart. Calm down. You know he has a stunning new erotic surprise in the works. He always does. Every year. For six years running. Though this year their weekend was oddly early and she had no idea why.

She shifted from one foot to the other, telling herself to cast off her worries about the change in date. But as she did, she felt the weight of the first surprise Mr. Jones had sent her for this year’s erotic weekend. And she grinned to herself.

Wear these, he had written in his blunt script on the thick vellum note delivered two days ago to her office by special courier. Push them up inside your pussy before you leave for the plane. Seat them fully in your juicy cunt and imagine how I will dream of you dreaming of me as they roll inside you for hours of anticipation.

“And they certainly do their job,” she said to herself, giving a little shudder of delight as the Chinese love balls massaged the inside of her aroused channel. Her eyes drifted closed, a picture of the man she was soon to meet filling her mind. His ash-blond hair curling around his nape. His mouth, a hard slash of expression except when he took her in his arms. His body, toned and tan at forty, despite the way he worked too much and traveled too often. But when they met on these rendezvous, he was all hers. For hours. Days, if he could steal them from his grueling schedule. And she had never had a lover like him. Not as devoted. Not as inventive. Never so totally hers. Her Mr. Jones.

“Passport!” the immigration clerk barked and motioned her forward.

Corin stepped to the counter and plunked down the document.

“Intention of your visit?” the clerk demanded in English deliciously tinged with her native French.

Seduction. “Tourist,” she told the woman, though she had lived in Paris as a teenager for two years with her mother and knew the city very well.

“Length of stay?”

“Just the weekend.” It’s all I can afford. There are so many responsibilities to go home to. Plus, it’s a miracle I even caught the plane in that snowstorm!

“Oui.” The official stamped her passport and waved her onward.

Taking the hall at a brisk pace, Corin moaned at the friction of the Ben Wa balls as she hastened into the terminal.

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