Monday, September 12, 2011

Out Today! Wild About That Thing

My contemporary music-themed ménage tale Wild About That Thing is out today, as part of the terrific anthology Treble. Along with my fellow TEB authors Desiree Holt, Imari Jade, Wendi Zwaduk, Elizabeth Coldwell and Lily Harlem, I'm serving up a sexy, emotionally intense tale of a loving threesome.

To celebrate the release, here's an exclusive (X-rated) excerpt, not available anywhere else. Enjoy!

****

He did not speak. He seemed to be engaged in some inner struggle. Maybe he’s having the same problem as me, Ruby thought, feeling giddy. Trying to keep from tearing my clothes off.

Finally, she couldn’t bear the tension. “Mr Saint-Michel?”

“Call me Remy.” Behind his glasses, his eyes were practically black, but flecked with gold.

“You were here last night…Remy. You sang with the band.” She paused, inviting him to continue.

“Yes…um…” His response petered out. Meanwhile the non-verbal signs were stronger than ever. His fingers dug into the flesh of his thighs. His nostrils flared as though seeking her scent. And the bulge in his groin told her all the things he didn’t seem to be able to say aloud.

“You were amazing. Have you performed before?”

“Not really. Just for friends—and family…” He stopped again. Ruby had a sense of power held in check, and under that…pain. Was he shy? Last night he’d appeared completely at ease, sure of himself. The blues was about opening up and letting the feelings flow. To do that, you needed to be strong. Brave.

“Are you here because you’d like a job, Remy? Do you want to work at the Crossroads?”

“Yes, yes, that’s it.” Relief was obvious in his face. His lips relaxed into a half-smile, revealing perfect white teeth. “I want to work for you, Ms Jones. I want to sing the blues. No, that’s not right. I need to sing the blues.” He reached for her and her heart leapt into her chest. All he did was grasp her hand, but it was enough to make her melt.

“I understand,” she murmured. She thought she did, too, even though this man was a stranger. She didn’t know his story, but somehow, she knew his heart.

As if by a pre-arranged signal, they both rose to their feet. Remy took a step forward, bridging the gap between them. He pulled her against his chest while his arms encircled her. Ruby tilted her chin, offering her mouth. He bent to press his lips to hers.

“Ruby,” he breathed, drawing her tighter.

Everything about him was smooth—his lips, his tongue, his clean-shaven cheeks, the hands that slipped beneath her sweater to stroke her back. His kiss was like warm silk slithering over her flesh—soft, rich and voluptuous. She floated, allowing him to feast on her mouth while his fingers roamed over her flesh.

He tasted of anise and smelt of some sharp, herbal cologne. His lean body shifted as he groped, working to unfasten her bra. His rock-hard erection grazed her pubis. She moaned into his mouth.

Her own hands were busy inside his jacket, glorying at the lean muscle she found there. She raked a fingernail lightly across his nipple. He went wild, plunging his hands into her pants to grab her ass and grinding his crotch against hers.

"Wait, wait!” Ruby cried, gasping, afraid he’d tear her best slacks. She broke their clinch long enough to unfasten the waistband, draw down the zipper then push the pants down over her hips.

Remy watched, unsmiling, with that same intense focus that had snared her last night. “I want to see you naked,” he said at last. His voice was velvet and ice, shivering through her.

There was no question of disobeying. It simply never occurred to her. She kicked off her boots, stepped out of her slacks and hung them over the back of the chair. Next came the sweater. Ruby worked as fast as she could, wanting to give him what he’d asked—what he’d demanded—but it felt as though she was moving in slow motion. She reached behind to unhook her bra and her breasts bounced free, the nipples taut and juicy as ripe raspberries. His gaze never wavered as she hooked her thumbs into her bikinis and pulled them to her ankles.

Her lower lips felt hot and swollen. Her clit throbbed, barely hidden by the damp tangle of black curls between her thighs. Remy stared at her. The heat built and built, until she couldn’t bear it.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered. Desperate, without shame, Ruby plunged three fingers into her soaked pussy. A fountain of pleasure gushed in her depths. Her knees almost buckled. Remy noticed. He grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the desk, then stepped back again to watch her. “Continue - please.”

Ruby spread her thighs wide, wanting to show him everything. She was rewarded by his raised eyebrows. Moisture dribbled out, pooling beneath her on the wooden surface. She pressed the heel of her hand firmly against her pubic fur. Curving her fingers to catch the pad of nerves near the front of her sex, she stroked in and out. Meanwhile her thumb jiggled her clit, flicking it like a switch. Electricity arced through her.

“Pinch your nipple,” Remy commanded. She dug her nails into the nugget of flesh. Pleasure tugged at her clit, pulling her closer to the edge. “Harder. Make yourself come.”

***

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