A Wildly Seductive Night: (Seductive Nights: Julia & Clay Book 3.5) (7 page)

T
his was
the moment of truth.

The cameramen captured the press of bodies and the noise of the crowd inside the Lucky Spot. Patrons jostled for prime position at the bar, and random bar-goers were picked to vote on the drinks. Julia watched from a corner table, parked next to her husband, as well as Spencer and Charlotte.

Byron had arranged for the taste test to judge the drink contest to happen here at Spencer and Charlotte Holiday’s bar.

Julia squirmed in her chair.

Charlotte patted her hand. “Don’t worry. You’ll do great.”

But Julia wasn’t worried about the competition. She was a tad sore. She’d rather liked what she and her husband had done, and she had a hunch she was going to want to go again soon. Maybe she’d become a little back-door junkie. But really, that wasn’t a bad thing. Julia didn’t judge her sexuality, or others for what they liked in bed. Some might call her a dirty girl; some might call him a filthy man. Maybe they were, and maybe they weren’t. What did it matter, though, if somebody liked it vanilla, if someone liked some kink, if a person liked it risky, if they liked it dirty? Who cared whether she wanted it slow and tender, or rough and ready?

At the end of the day, Julia believed that screwing between two consenting adults was a good thing. Sex could tether two people and bond them in a beautiful way. For Julia and Clay, passion was their favorite pastime. Some couples liked golf, some played bridge, and some binge-watched TV shows. For them? Sex was their hobby.

And so, she was a little squirmy. But at least she’d learned the secret trick to her new favorite thing in bed. A good stiff drink helped her take a big thick cock.

Charlotte looked at Julia expectantly. Oh, right. Her friend thought she was tense about the contest. Julia laughed to herself then answered with, “Just a bit of nerves.”

Clay draped an arm around her, and she spent the rest of the evening watching the patrons at this fine Manhattan establishment test the Gin Fiesta and Julia’s riff on a Sazerac.

When the night wound down, Byron called Julia and JT to join him at the bar.

“It was an epic battle, but we’re ready to tally the votes now,” he said to the camera, glancing at JT, who smirked, then at Julia, who flashed a smile. Byron cleared his throat and spoke to the crowd. “All in favor of the Gin Fiesta?”

Throngs of patrons raised their hands, and Byron’s assistant producer counted them all. Julia held her breath, and crossed her fingers as the producer announced the headcount. Fifty-two.

“And now, who here prefers the new version of the original cocktail?”

More hands thrust in the air.

Counting heads wasn’t Julia’s specialty, so she did her best to wait for the result, pleased that she’d given this impromptu drink contest her best shot. Even if her creation didn’t win, she’d gladly serve it at Speakeasy. She was confident it would nab new fans at her bar, because it was not only delicious, it was also purposeful.

“By the way, Julia,” Byron said, “as we wait for the final count, I don’t believe we ever had a name for your drink. Are we just calling it riff on a Sazerac?”

But before she could bless her beverage with a name, he held up his finger. “Looks like we’ve got a number.” He leaned close to his assistant who whispered in his ear.

“And that’s sixty-seven to fifty-two in favor of the Sazerac riff!”

Julia beamed. Something like glee raced through her body, chased by the satisfaction of a job well done. She wasn’t a one-hit wonder, she still had her mojo, and her love for her husband had helped her nail a winning combo.

Byron clapped a hand on her shoulder. “Now what was the name of the drink?”

Julia spotted Clay across the room. His beautiful brown eyes held her captive, watching her, knowing her, wanting her.

Without breaking his gaze, she answered Byron, on the fly, with a name.

The only name she could possibly give that drink.

“I call it . . . the Happy Anniversary Honey.”

A
few months
later

T
he jet soared
over the Atlantic, and his daughter cuddled up next to him in the first-class leather seats. Julia had conked out, and somehow Carly had snuggled between them. She tossed another playing card in the pile on his tray.

“Go fish.”

“Ah, you’re killing me, sweet pea. You’re killing me.”

“I knew I could beat you at cards,” Carly said with a wide smile.

“I’m going to have to teach you poker next.”

His daughter’s eyes sparkled at that idea. “Like Mommy. I bet I’d be good like Mommy.”

He tapped his finger to her nose. “I bet you would be, too. Just remember to play for fun.”

She grinned. “Cards are fun. Trips are fun. Paris will be fun,” she said, and kissed his nose. “But are you sure Santa can find us in Paris?”

“Of course. He knows you’ll be there for Christmas, and he’ll bring you a present there. And so will your mom and dad.”

“Maybe Santa will bring me a new baby sister. That would be so fun,” she said.

That was the first time she’d ever mentioned wanting a sibling, and there were zero plans to have one or even the hint of one under the tree, so to speak. Clay raised an eyebrow. “Probably not this year, but it can’t hurt to let him know.”

Come to think of it, maybe she was onto something. While he was blissfully content as a trio, perhaps a quartet would be even more fun.

“I will definitely send him a letter if I still want one next year.” Carly tilted her head to Julia. “For Christmas, we should get Mommy another nap. She’s been working so hard since she won the award.”

His wife’s conquest on the show had turned into even more success. While JT had gone on to win the season, Julia had emerged victorious, too. Her new drink had won several cocktail awards.

She was in talks with the liquor company Farrell Spirits about packaging the Happy Anniversary Honey. Most of all, Julia was having fun, and so was Clay. Tyler had nabbed the new client, and life was as good as it had ever been.

A little later, as the plane descended, Julia roused, flashed him a sleepy smile, and dropped a kiss on his cheek.

They were going to spend Christmas with their friends Michelle and Jack, who lived in Paris now with their son. Jack’s sister, Casey, and her husband, Nate, were flying in as well, along with their two girls.

A holiday of friends and family in the city of lights. Maybe they’d even catch a dinner and a movie some night, because that was still their favorite way to spend time together. Though, when it came to his lovely wife, sometimes they skipped dinner and a movie and had each other, and that was just fine with him, too.

You see, what Clay Nichols had realized over the last several years was that sometimes happily-ever-afters were truly that. Sometimes you got lucky. Sometimes you had the good life. Sure, there were ups and downs, bruises and cuts, but every now and then, you got to have what the audience wanted to imagine you’d have when the credits rolled.

You got everything you ever wanted and then some.

Because some dirty fairy tales had a way of coming true, over and over, every single day and night.

T
yler Nichols is getting
his own novel in THE HOT ONE, releasing in late 2016!

A
t first glance
, stripping naked at my ex-girlfriend’s place of work might not seem like the brightest way to win her back. But trust me on this count – she always liked me best without any clothes on. And sometimes you’ve got to play to your strengths when you’re fighting an uphill battle. I’m prepared to fight for her…and to fight hard.

* * *

T
he goddamn nerve
of Tyler Nichols to reappear in my life like that. All sculpted muscle, toned abs, and a hard body that drove me wild far too many nights. Not to mention the knowing grin, those mischievous eyes, that chestnut hair I want to run my fingers through.  That man is nothing but a cocky, arrogant jerk. A cocky jerk. A jer…

…
E
xcept
, he’s not any of those things at all. 

T
hat’s
what makes it so tough to resist the hot one…

I
f you'd
like to receive an email when my new titles are available, like THE HOT ONE, please sign up for my
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.

T
hank
you so much for reading Julia and Clay’s sexy love story. I loved every second of writing about them, and I hope you enjoyed their journey to love, sexy times and happily ever after! Want to know what happens when Clay’s brother Brent falls head over heels? Check out my new series
SINFUL NIGHTS
, a four-book, high-heat, high-stakes romance series that begins with the passionate and fiery love story of Brent and Shannon in
SWEET SINFUL NIGHTS
. That book is widely available across all retailers, along with the entire series. A brief excerpt follows.

S
he turned
around and pushed hard on the ladies room door. But she felt his hand around her wrist, and he yanked her back, spinning her in one quick move, so she was chest to chest with him. She felt his breath on her.

“It did work out well for me. I’m also not the same person I was ten years ago,” he said, then did that thing again — that thing where he undressed her with his eyes, where he fucked her completely with his hot, dirty stare. “And you obviously have become a different person too.”

He tugged her, pulled her closer. He tugged her, pulled her closer. His heart pounded against her breasts. His hand gripped her lower back.

He felt so good that she didn’t resist because her stupid body was stuck in the past, was living ten years ago when he alone was the one who could help her, who could free her, who could take away all the pain in one touch.

But he hadn’t, had he?

He’d caused more in his wake.

In his cruel exit.

She jammed a hand against his chest. His strong, firm chest that she knew intimately. The fucker. “I had reasons. Real reasons. Life and death reasons,” she said in a low hiss.

He shut his eyes briefly, looking pained. He sighed heavily, then somehow his arms were around her, and this time his touch wasn’t sexual. It wasn’t lustful. It was an embrace. From someone who knew nearly everything about her.

“Are you okay? Are you safe?” he asked in a whisper into her hair.

A tear had the audacity to slip out of her eye. To slide down her cheek, and fall onto his shoulder. It was a Pavlovian reaction. Too many tears had fallen on that shoulder.

“Yes,” she said quietly, with a nod. “I am. It’s fine. It’s all fine.”

He pulled back, tucked a hand under her chin, and lifted her face. She was so close to him she could trace the outline of his jaw, could run the pad of her finger over his stubble, his unbearably sexy eight-o-’clock shadow. She could drag her fingernails through his hair, soft, thick strands that simply had belonged between her hands. She could look in his eyes as he moved in her, those deep, soulful eyes that understood her. Somehow, he was rough and gentle, he was charming and fierce, he was funny and dirty. He was the man she’d wanted to spend the rest of her life with.

“Are you sure?” he asked, so much tenderness and worry in his tone.

She gathered herself, and willed that obstinate organ in her chest to stop beating in double time. She informed her traitorous body to stop trembling just from being near him.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

He let her go. He tipped his forehead back to the bar. “I should get back out there. They’ll start wondering. See you in a few.”

And he walked away.

Just like the last time she’d seen him.

She pressed her lips together, and breathed out hard. She pushed open the ladies room door, walked to the sink, dropped her hands onto the cool tile and let out the longest, hardest breath. She hoped to hell this was the only time she’d have to deal with Brent Nichols.

When she was near to him like that, she couldn’t think straight. She could only feel. And that was far too dangerous for her heart.

S
WEET SINFUL NIGHTS
is widely available across all retailers! If you'd like to receive an email when my new titles are available, please sign up for my
newsletter
.