Authors: Jodi Redford
“Butter, egg, milk. The usual Béchamel ingredients.”
Sure, and a liberal dash of horny goat weed and Viagra thrown in for good measure. She had no idea why Griff was trying to get her juiced up for sex. He knew damn well that all he had to do was breathe and she’d gladly tackle him to the floor and ride him until they were both properly yippee-ki-yayed out. Which left only one possibility.
He was about to spring some hellaciously scary sexual request on her. If a midget and a monkey strolled in right now, she was so out of th—
“Looks like the party is revving into high gear.” Logan ambled into the kitchen, his expression wicked and wolfish.
Her focus shifted between the two gorgeous specimens of male flesh on decadent display, and the puzzle pieces began locking together.
Oh, sweet Jesus
. Her heart frantically tap dancing, she snatched the embroidered dishtowel resting on the counter and blotted her perspiring forehead. Either the heat and the sauce were getting to her, or Griff and Logan. More than likely, all four.
She shot Griff an accusing glare. “Now I get it. You think the three of us having sex will fix everything, and I won’t have to worry about Nettie luring me to the dark side. Did it even occur to you to give
me
a say in this decision?”
Griff thunked the spoon on the stovetop before giving her his full attention. “Christ, do you honestly think you wouldn’t get a say? Damn it, you know I’d never force you into doing anything you don’t want.”
She plunked one hand on her hip and waved the other hand at the stockpot. “But you weren’t averse to a little cheating, courtesy of your pasta à la sex sauce.”
“I just wanted you to feel more comfortable. Relaxed.”
“Turned on,” she added, arching a brow.
A guilty flush spread from Griff’s jaw to his cheeks. Chuffing a laugh, Logan joined them at the stove. “Catman had good intentions, sugar. The potion in the sauce is designed to loosen inhibitions and supersensitize erogenous zones you didn’t even know you had.” He flicked a glance in Griff’s direction. “Maybe you better give her a demonstration.”
She snorted. “Trust me, he already did.”
Logan’s mouth curled in wicked devilment. “You only got a small taste of the potion’s capabilities. To truly appreciate its gift to the fullest, you need to ingest it in a more…intimate manner.” Before she knew what he was up to, Logan unlaced the ties securing the sundress to her shoulders and pushed the bodice down, exposing her breasts. Gasping, she shot him a startled look. He awarded her a crooked smile. “Don’t worry, you’re gonna enjoy this.”
Something warm and sticky stroked her nipples. She jumped at the unexpected sensation, her gaze shooting to Griff’s sauce-coated fingers as they painted her areolas with the creamy substance. He lowered his head and followed the path of his fingers with his tongue, sparking a new conflagration of fire inside her. She shivered and Griff peered up at her, his eyes blazing. Curving an arm around her waist, he stood and claimed her mouth in a hot, devouring kiss. He tasted of Béchamel and exotic spice. Of magic and sex. She wrapped her fingers in his hair, tugging him closer, ravenous for more. Their tongues rasped in a mating dance and she wiggled against him, her nipples aching for the sumptuous devotion of Griff’s mouth.
Logan’s knuckles skated the length of her spine. “Noticing the effects yet?” She mewled a response and he chuckled. “Excellent.” He worked the dress over her hips and the garment floated to her feet. His feather-light touch skimmed above the elastic of her bikini, teasing the dimples near her tailbone. She arched against Logan’s hand, her knees turning to jelly when he palmed her ass and gave it a good squeeze. He snuggled close behind her, so close she easily detected the hard ridge of his erection suggestively rubbing into her. “I’ve got something for ya, darlin’.”
Oh yeah. No mistaking
that
.
Griff’s mouth trailed to the crook of her neck, and something soft and silky caressed her cheek. She reached for the fabric, but Logan swept it behind her head.
“Not yet. First I want something in return.”
She licked her lips, a hot liquid rush of excitement pulsing low in her belly. “What?”
“A taste.” Logan’s teeth scraped her earlobe, making her breath stutter. He moved lower and tongued the pulse point beneath her ear. “Same as you gave Catman.”
A whimper escaped her and Logan tilted her head, his fingers tunneling in her hair as his lips glided along hers. Sucking her tongue into his mouth, he gave her a sneak peek at the devastation he could wreak on her body. If she let him. The question was, would she?
The higher the stakes, the hotter the game.
Never Have I Ever
© 2010 Alisha Rai
Reynolds Pack, Book 1
Ana Hudson enjoys her picture-perfect marriage to the love of her life. Everything is pleasant, easy—and satisfying. Then an anonymous e-mail arrives filled with lurid pictures of Taylor’s youthful exploits, leaving her wondering if she really knows him at all. More importantly…does she know herself?
Driven to uncover the truth and push the limits of their sexual boundaries, she convinces Taylor to arrange a weekend getaway to a friend’s luxury cottage in the mountains. It’s the perfect place to get her husband to spill his secrets—and show him there’s a wealth of kinky fantasies hiding inside his good girl.
Taylor’s spent years suppressing his animalistic side, hiding the not-completely-human DNA that once drove him wild. Except now his once quiet, reserved Ana has launched a campaign to destroy every inch of his hard-won control.
With the snowy wilderness containing his darkest memories surrounding them, and his old pack-mate dropping in to give them a few pointers, the sexual battle of wills gets fierce.
Let the games begin.
Warning: Contains a brooding, dirty-minded, not-quite-human hero, a sweet not-quite-good-girl heroine, a howling-hawt car ride up a mountain, a chase through the snow followed by an erotic adventure with sports equipment, oral sex, anal sex, and a M/F/M ménage scene that will leave you panting.
Enjoy the following excerpt for
Never Have I Ever:
Taylor studied the shape of Ana’s ass in the bright pink snowsuit she wore. It was a sad, sad day when the sight of the woman in a shapeless outfit drove him a little mad.
For the umpteenth time he cursed Eli’s presence. His best friend had the absolute worst timing. Forget the fact that he’d been put outside like a naughty pup, when he could be snuggling with his wife on a wide leather sofa. With the other man here, he couldn’t even try to communicate with her about their recent escapades…not that he had the slightest inkling of how to broach that subject.
You know that mind-blowing sex we had last night? Please don’t let me fuck you like an animal anymore. We need to leave here, because I think this place is making me want to do things to you that aren’t even entirely legal in some states. Oh, yeah, and I never told you, but I’m a—
Abort, abort. Don’t think it. If you don’t think it, it’s not real.
That’s right. The test wasn’t over yet. He still had all day tomorrow to get his body and rioting hormones under control. Perhaps by then he’d also be able to figure out what was going on in his newly enabling wife’s tricky brain.
“This fresh air is so bracing, isn’t it?”
Ana had to shout, and even then her voice was muffled by the ski mask on her face. His outfit wasn’t nearly so confining, but then, his body temperature was higher than hers. The wind had stopped howling, and there was a lull in the snow. A good foot or two of the stuff had built up on the ground from the night before. It was soft, perfect for—
A snowball hit him square in the face. He recoiled in instinct and then shook his head. Ana’s brown eyes behind her mask were alight with mischief and delight. “Whoops.”
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
“Hmmm.” She leaned over, picked up a handful of snow and packed it deliberately between her palms. He watched her, hands loose at his sides. She let it fly, and this time the powder hit him square in the chest and dissipated. “Do you believe it now?”
“You little…”
When he bent over to grab some snow, she squealed and began running away, but soon discovered snowshoes didn’t allow for much speed. She wasted precious seconds trying to get her feet out from them. He, who had far more practice with the shoes, took them off in record time. Still, he waited patiently in his boots.
She yelped again when she glanced over her shoulder and took in his ready stance, a snowball in each hand, and started to run back to the house.
“I’ll give you a ten-second lead,” he announced. He was feeling generous, after all, and she was slow and tiny compared to him. Still, he let the snowballs fly, watching as she ducked and they smacked into the ground near her.
“Sucker…” came her faint reply as she disappeared around a tree.
Taylor didn’t even bother to run, his strides eating up the ground, one step to every three of hers. The snow was so soft it was an easy matter to simply follow her footprints.
About ten feet into the woods, though, her footsteps stopped in front of a tree.
His eyes narrowed. He looked left, and then right. He even glanced up, but there was no Ana sitting up a tree. Not like she would have that much maneuverability with the bulky outfit on her. “Ana,” he shouted.
Nothing.
He listened, but unlike Eli and the rest of his family, his hearing wasn’t quite so superior.
His smell, though…
Taylor smiled grimly and inhaled, sorting through the scent of pine and smoke to find Ana’s uniquely feminine scent, overlaid by vanilla lotion.
Aaaaand, there she was. Hello, Ana.
He stepped around the tree, only then noticing the almost too-careful brushing of the snow. A smile spread across his face, both proud and amazed. Smart girl, dragging something behind her to keep her path hidden.
For someone who’d grown up in a crowded city, she’d just mightily impressed him.
He didn’t bother walking anymore, but started running, his legs eating up the ground, following both her scent and the brushed path in the snow. He’d catch her soon.
She’d zigged and zagged well though, moving fast for a tiny human who was weighed down by winter clothes, boots and what appeared to be a tree branch. His admiration shot up another notch.
So did his lust.
When I find her…
He couldn’t even formulate the words as he ran faster, as her scent became stronger. Images passed through his mind of her wearing a fragile peasant blouse and flimsy skirt. When he found her, he would rip her top off…
His strides lengthened. She’d gasp, but her body would conform to his, her mouth eating his as surely as he ate at hers. Sinking sweetly to her knees, she would open his rough trousers, take his cock out and suck it into her mouth. He’d control her motions with his hand on her head, making sure that she fucked him exactly as he wanted and needed it, and then he’d hoist her up against the side of a tree, rip her panties off and fuck her as she screamed and squirmed under his body. The rough bark would bite into his hands where he braced them, but he wouldn’t care, would be unable to stop…
The sound of panting filled his ears, and it took him a second to realize it was him, his breathing coming mostly from arousal and not exertion.
Find your woman.
Fuck your woman.
The sentences became a never-ending loop in his head, reverberating through every cell in his body, commanding him, working him into a frenzy. He didn’t even need to look at the disturbed snow—he could smell her, so close, so close, soclosesoclosesoclose…
He broke free from the stand of trees. Her ski suit made her into a target of puffy pink, small and defenseless in the huge backyard of the cottage. Like any good predator, he made sure she heard him too late. By the time she started to turn, he was in mid-leap. She could only get out a tiny squeak before he tackled her to the ground.
Somehow, though he was in his frenzied state, he managed to keep her landing soft, cradling a hand under her head so she wouldn’t smack it against the snow, shifting his weight so he didn’t land on her.
He kissed her, his desperation and need a living thing, uncaring that she still wore a ski mask, uncaring that she was bundled in layers of slick outerwear.
She kissed him back eagerly, but it was the cold lips under his that made him draw back, reason entering his mind for the first time since he’d caught her scent.
“Inside,” he said roughly.
With the ski mask on, all he could see was her wild eyes and her lax, wet mouth. She grabbed him by the sides of his face and brought him down to kiss her again.
He complied, surprised and hard. Was she as excited by this chase as he was? It was the slight touch of wetness on his wrist where his glove had separated from his jacket sleeve that brought him back to the world.
“Too cold,” he rumbled, and moved off her despite her grasping arms.
He hoisted her to her feet and glanced at the house. Eli was inside there.
Good. Make him watch you take her. Maybe he doesn’t know yet that she’s yours. Force him to admit it.
Taylor shook his head, trying to shove the vicious thoughts out. Images bombarded him again, even more dark and dirty, of Eli holding Ana still for his penetration. Fucking his wife’s mouth while the other man ate out her cunt, both of them driving her wild with pleasure.
No! No. He’d never treat her like that.
“Taylor, please, fuck me here. I need you so bad.”
The dirty word coming from his wife’s sweet lips drove him even further into his dangerously borderline feral state. If she had had his higher body temperature, she probably could have easily been fucked into a snowbank, but she didn’t. And he feared what would happen if he did take her to the house to find Eli there.
So he hoisted her into a fireman’s carry, ignoring her yelp of surprise, and made way for the huge storage shed. Despite its humble name, the space was large and neat, and most importantly, it kept the cold out.