Autumn Lishky's Blog, page 2

Seducing Winter Launches Today

Y’all, my 14-part series is launching book ten tomorrow (holy shit, we’re so far!!), and it’s time for you to meet Remus! He is a single father of four and a bit older than Winter, but he is also able to show her what being mated might actually be like.

I’m launching a new book in the series every 28 days in 2022, and the series will be complete on December 31st.

To celebrate cycle ten, stay with me because the three chapters of the book is below for you to read!

Read the First Three Chapters Below!

CHAPTER ONE

Winter told herself not to fret about who from her clan would be spending a cycle with her. Yet, she couldn’t help circling it around her thoughts. It was enough to distract her from the present because the strong knock at her door made her jump. 

A shot of tequila calmed her jangled nerves and reset her cold confidence. On her porch was not what she expected, an alpha closer to her father’s age with gray sprinkled through his hair around his ears and the scruff on his strong face. The medium blonde made it less discernible, but the age in his gaze highlighted it for her.

The fact that he didn’t undress her mentally defrosted her a little. He nodded  and extended his wide hand. Thick fingers and palm were rough around hers, but his squeeze wasn’t overly strong. This man worked for a living. “Miss Jarl.”

“It’s Winter. Mr. Halsein.”

He smiled, and she rather liked the look of it, especially the smile lines. “It’s Remus. Nice to meet you.”

“Same. I was just having a drink if you’d like one.” Winter stepped back to let him inside.

“I’ll meet you for one after I clean up.” His hand absent-mindedly ringed his throat to highlight the sweat and grime.

She handed him the key to his room. “Same one as last time I suspect. End of the hall by the training room.”

After the easy exchange, he disappeared in that direction. Winter stuck a fresh whiskey in the freezer, pulled some poppers out, and assembled meat sandwiches while she waited. Quite a few of them, in case he ate anything like she expected. Remus smelled of musky earth, and his clan mined stone and ore. They also brewed mead. 

She hoped he could teach her how.

He returned as she shoved the second half of a sandwich into her mouth and bent to take the poppers out of the oven. By the time she worked through her bite, she had the whiskey and a frosted glass. 

“You look like a whiskey man. It’s one of ours.”

His brow raised, and she poured him his first taste. She kissed the bottle before leaving it for him. His laugh was soft and low.

This one had fig and orange and pecan and cinnamon. It had more flavor than its beer companion, more notes and layers than she could squeeze into oats or hops.

Winter pointed to the food. “There’s enough for you if you want some. Kitchen’s stocked.”

Part of her wanted to stay around the island to eat. She wasn’t laying out the table, but she resisted vegging out on the couch. Maybe he’d appreciate an easy meal on a comfy cushion after his obvious trek. She had to get over the age difference, but curiosity would bother her if she didn’t ask.

Soon. Respect went a long way, and his allowed hers to shine. Had he been a horn dog the moment he spied her like most of the others, she would have treated him like everyone else. Winter swirled the tequila in its bottle and waited to tip it back.

The whiskey met his lips, and he took a few beats to savor the flavors—a good sign of approval. “We can take this to the couch if you want.”

“You’re not a mind reader, are you?”

“Not quite. But I’ve had a lot of practice reading expressions. Plate those up, and let me help.”

Winter spared him her own smile as she dumped the poppers onto a platter and grabbed the tequila. 

He followed her without question, picking up the sandwiches and whiskey. His proximity didn’t ping against her, and she was grateful for it.

“I’ll let you pick the show, depending on your choice.”

CHAPTER TWO

“That’s one hell of an offer, but I’ll allow you.” He bit into a sandwich and nodded for her to go on. Winter was certainly as beautiful as they said. Young but not. More serious than most females her age. Her gaze was bright with intelligence, even as she was polite to him.

She chose a war documentary, pulled her legs up around her, and shoved an entire fried pepper in her mouth. Half child and half old woman. His eldest, Romano, had compared her to the hard-won warrior grandfathers in the mythological stories Remus used to read to him. The likeness made sense. Others underestimated the old man, but he had the experience and surprise at his disposal. Speed, too. Winter must have possessed those elements in battle.

After Romano’s first excursion with his battalion, he came home talking nonstop about this tiny female slicing her way through a horde of goblins with an unmatched fury. 

Her legend only grew over the years, especially amongst their family with the stories his eldest brought home to them. He freaked out when he heard his father would be spending a month with her, alone. Intimate.

Remus shook his head. He was too old for this. For these games. 

Except when Winter briefly peered at him, the fluttering of her lashes wasn’t the cloying type his daughter-in-law batted at his middle son, Timber. Instead, it was a slow processing of him—as a threat, as a roommate, as a person. This wasn’t a game to her.

Duly noted. He wouldn’t play with her. He didn’t want to take advantage.

The documentary was surprisingly delightful: detailed with excellent examples. Once, he asked Winter if she knew about a featured older battle from before her time. She rattled off data like a college professor and added a few stories he’d never heard of before. Her knowledge was impressive.

She shrugged when he sat in awe of her. “My grandfather was in that battle. He liked to weave a good war story for us kids when the adults were busy. I was one of the few who would badger him with questions and sit through every tale he offered. My mom wasn’t too happy about it.”

“You could probably tell me ten stories for each they present in this program, couldn’t you?”

“Probably.” Two more poppers crunched between her teeth. 

They matched each other in food. And her sandwich had nice and simple flavors. The whiskey melded with the red meat and acid of the pickle. “Then why watch something like this?”

“I’ve never seen it before. I don’t know what it’s going to talk about.”

Smart. How an expert thought. Soak in everything, even when it repeats. “Have you heard the one about the mine collapse to bury an attacking ogre?”

Winter jolted on her cushion beside him. “No.” 

The natural curiosity in her clashed the image of her against itself once more.

“Did you want to hear it now?”

“Yes, please.” Her cheek rested on her raised knee; fingers braced around her toes as she looked at him. Into him, really.

An ogre ventured out of the Asketill mountains and around Lake Anakee. The water seemed to keep the monster from crossing into the Valley or the plains. How it found its way into their piece of the universe is still debated. But Remus remembered the way the ground shook as the ogre stomped into their village. He’d been working in the mines at the time, and dust clattered down across his scalp and shoulders. No alarm sounded, but he pushed his clan members to evacuate. Fortunately, they followed him, but he hadn’t been able to save them all. A few young wolves got caught by the ogre’s long reach and got chomped in half with its wide mouth.

Their screams echoed in his ears, but it gave him an idea. The youngest of his men huddled behind him as they watched from above the mine opening. He needed the fastest of them to lure the ogre into the mine. Deep inside, a small side tunnel gave him an escape and trapped the monster long enough to detonate the dynamite kept by their current shaft.

Remus and the other men set the extra explosives at the entrance to seal the ogre inside. To bury him.

By the time they’d caught its attention, the monster tore through a dozen men, crunching their bones with sick sucking sounds. But the plan worked. They heard the ogre crashing around in there for some time afterward.

“Did anyone go to check that it was dead?” Winter asked, glowing from the adrenaline of the story.

“No one official. Kids still dare each other to creep down that side path, but it’s blocked too well to see anything.”

“What about the mine and your jobs?”

“We started another mine a mile south, which opened a vein of ore with mineral and rock. It worked in our favor in the end.”

“That should be a story more people tell.”

Remus laughed. “Perhaps. I’m sure you have plenty that should also be celebrated.”

Winter’s sad smile turned her away, and her shoulder hitched. “Was always better for me if they weren’t. Not so sure now. Maybe they would help me as chieftain. Make people take me seriously.”

One look at her made Remus acknowledge her strength. Yet, he was no soldier. And he was already familiar with how she gained that scar along the base of her throat—the one she hid. “I have a feeling it won’t take long for others to take you seriously. Not if they spend any kind of time with you.”

The quirk in her features when she took stock of him again made him like her for the position all the more.

CHAPTER THREE

“How do you know? You’ve barely been here for a couple of hours. Half of that you spent in the shower and watching a documentary with me.” Winter knew her words didn’t match the appreciation of having him compliment her. She just didn’t understand his want to do so.

He appeared unfazed by her sharp words. “You may have a point, but even in your sparse words and silence, you hold more power than you think.”

Frustrated with the direction their conversation headed, Winter shoved more food in her face without really tasting it, which was a shame. “You’ll change your mind soon enough.”

His laugh flavored his next words. “Why is that?”

“I rub most people the wrong way.”

“Has that been your experience these last eight months?

A breath forced into her lungs, and she didn’t need to answer him. He already knew. “No.”

He gave her that dad look, as if he led her right into the answer he wanted.

“Pheromones do a lot of my work for me. Like magic. Makes you see what you want.”

Remus shook his head, disappointed in her assessment of herself. “Or maybe it gives you an excuse to think that way and underrate yourself.”

Her back shot straight. “I do not underestimate myself.”

His steady gaze challenged her statement like Ash’s had a mere day ago. “Maybe not as a warrior. As a force to be reckoned with. As a woman who undercuts the expectations of her sex. But as the epitome of a lady, as a desirable mate or mother, as a leader? You bet your ass you undervalue yourself.”

Winter’s heart hammered as he cut straight through her. “You talk like you know me.”

“I’ve been reading people for a long time.”

“Mmm hmm. Speaking of. I’m surprised by your age. Why aren’t you mated?” Technically, Winter was too old to be single.

“I was.”

Winter frowned. “What happened?”

“A rogue vampire.” Darkness flashed through his eyes.

Something too similar to what happened to Winter’s mother. “That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

A sad smile hit Winter, how many times she’d been mad at those who offered her the same words, but she understood the pageantry of it. Most couldn’t deal with the runoff of emotions that came with loss, so they felt the need to share it. “I know.”

“She gave me four beautiful kids. Two of them alphas like me, but they’re old enough to have a mate and one soon-to-be mate.”

“Hence, why you’re here.”

“Unless you’d have preferred my father…”

“You should really stop. You’re not very funny.”

Remus smiled like he thought otherwise. “My mate didn’t think so either. I maintain that I’m hilarious.”

That made Winter laugh a little—just enough for him to raise a brow at her for it. Caught. “Will you tell me about them?”

“You won’t be able to stop me.”

A real laugh, the deep husky one she hated, escaped her. “Good.”

First, he told her about his eldest son, Romano, and how he was a warrior, too. They fought in several battles together but not directly, which revealed where Remus got his quick perception of her. Part of her got distracted by the possibility of Romano being one of the few men she’d pulled out of sight to soothe her carnal needs. That might be awkward when she went to meet them.

His middle son, Timber, apprenticed in a bar that made one of the top meads in the village. His mate was a silly female that worked at the bar as a waitress, but she knew how to manage the male-dominant clientele with a wink or flutter of her lashes and some smooth moves. Timber kept the rest in line when her personality didn’t save her.

“Groups of drunk males can be rowdy and dangerous at the best of times.”

The smile Remus offered Winter told her so many stories without words. “Yet, you thrive in that environment.”

“Most of them in my world avoid me. Especially when my weapons are within reach.”

“I’ve heard. Seems like you’ve earned their respect.”

Winter snorted at him. “Sure. That’s what we’ll call it. Respect.”

Remus looked ready to argue with her, but he went back to talking about his kids instead. Smart man.

His daughter, Thistle, was an artist—a sculptor—who used the masses of rock from their mining to create statues and home decorations for their clan and the village. She preferred to create goddesses, ornately adorned with leaves and flowers and flowing cloth and hair. Remus called them brilliant. 

Winter wanted to see them. That kind of talent had always been outside of her grasp.

His youngest son, Smoke, would be choosing his apprenticeship next year. He seemed partial to metal work, which meant he’d leave home to study with one of the metalsmithing clans—like Winter’s, like Torrent’s, or like the Valdis clan. If Smoke came here, he’d work with Newt, who built the armor that saved her life multiple times.

Remus seemed okay with his son leaving home, but Winter didn’t see what he didn’t want her to. Practice from age and parenthood. He paused before he spoke of his mate again.

Rune was an adventurer. The Halsein clan embraced humanity more than any of the others, and she took monthly, and sometimes, weekly trips to the human world to bring back treats and antiques and delights not made in this part of the universe. Often gentle but spirited, she blended well and charmed most that she came in contact with.

It also put her in more danger. Every cross opened her to attack, but Remus couldn’t tell her not to go, to keep her from her calling.

“I don’t regret not controlling her. I’d have killed her in a different way if I’d kept her home.”

Her initial respect for him grew. He hadn’t tried to tame or soften his mate. That was a hell of a quality. But he’d raised a family already and wouldn’t likely want to do it again. “You’re a good man, Remus. And a good father.”

Pride glowed in his pale eyes. “Thank you.”

Winter nodded and decided that he was handsome, too, but she wouldn’t say.

After a heartbeat, he nudged her with his elbow. “See, that’s how you take a compliment from a stranger.”

Thirteen Clans. Thirteen Males. One prize.

Winter Jarl is the most notorious female warrior of her species. Her father is chief, and he’s dying, so he’s cashed in on a promise she made long ago: he’s setting her up with an alpha from each of the thirteen clans before she takes over his position.

Sentenced to a year of isolation, she will spend twenty-eight days alone with each man. By the end of it, Winter must choose one to stand beside her. 

The challenge? She must be in love to produce an heir. 
​

Cycle Ten: Seducing Winter

Surprised by the new alpha’s age, Winter finds it easy to spend time with Remus. He’s respectful, knowledgeable, and doesn’t treat her like a prize to be won, a beast to tame, or a fire to snuff out.

Remus is too old to be playing house with the chief’s daughter, but Winter is both exactly and nothing like what he expects. Somehow, she unearths desires he’s left long buried. Does he want a second chance at his own happily ever after?

Jump into this intense paranormal erotica now and see who you want to win Winter’s heart.

A NEW SHORT STORY | Workplace Taboos: Sarah

excerpt

Sarah spun in her skirt, showing how it accentuated her big bottom and small top. Skirts were fun, and she had far more options for tops without the need for a bra.

Her poor work friend struggled with being indecent when she went braless, but you know, sometimes those babies just need to be free!

Was that why the floor manager had been in their part of the office so often?

When she sauntered into the employee lounge, he was leaning against the counter with a traditional white coffee mug halfway to his mouth. His gaze found hers over the rim, and heat sparked low in her belly.

“Our coffee is better, isn’t it?” Sarah said as she stepped beside him to grab her mug from the cabinet, and there it was on the top shelf where she couldn’t reach. The boys in her office were too keen on playing pranks on her. Small ones, like this, where she’d have to climb on the counter and possibly flash them what was under her skirt.

Her huff had the man next to her peering curiously at her again, then he looked up at the shelf and the sparkly black skull mug nestled amongst all of the normal ones.

“Yours?”

“Yes.” She planted her hands on the counter to pull herself up when he reached above her to grab it. 

Holding it out to her, he smiled. He had a nice smile.

“Thanks…”

“Ben.”

Sarah smiled. “Thanks, Ben.”

“No problem, Sarah. Least I could do for pilfering your excellent coffee.” He crossed one arm under the other as he took a pointed sip from his plain, white mug.

Leaning a little closer, she confessed, “I’m in charge of buying it for the office because no one else has any noticeable taste buds.”

Mmm, Ben smelled good, like warm honey and man. His eyes reflected the same notes, honey brown and warm. And they peered back at her inquisitively as their proximity drew closer.

“But you should really try it when I’m the one to make it.” Sarah slipped past him, her skirt brushing his legs on her way, and she pulled the espresso machine out from its hiding place under the sink.

Grinding and tamping her own beans she set the machine rattling. Brushing past him again, she grabbed milk from the fridge, sniffed it, and poured what she needed for two cups. On her way by again, she noticed how Ben’s gaze followed her as he kept silent and finished the joe already in his cup.

She stole it from his grip after he upended it, rinsing and setting it under the spout for his double shot of espresso. Steaming the milk had her swaying her hips. When she was a barista outside of Mating Metropolis, she used to dance as she pulled shots and poured drinks. It made her co-workers and customers smile.

It didn’t have the same effect on Ben, but the glance she stole only drove that small heat deeper.

What was he really doing over here? 

Pouring the milk and spooning the foam, the design came easy, and she handed the white mug back to Ben.

He grinned, fanning that burn a little hotter.

Sarah sipped her latte to keep the space between them safe. Rich espresso and sweetened milk mixed perfectly across her tongue, but she only enjoyed the first taste, cleaning and putting away the machine before anyone else came in to mess it up.

Picking up her mug, she winked at Ben. “Better get to my desk.”

He nodded, and she felt him watch her go.

What the hell was all of that?

Sarah’s cubicle mate, the guy on the other side of her lone shared wall–his office had something about hiding their women in the back corners–peeked in on her. “Hey. Did you just brew fresh coffee?”

She brought her glittery skull to her mouth and merely raised her brow at him.

“Don’t tease, Sarah.” Carter’s hopeful eyes made her soften.

“No. Just my cup.”

His pout was immediate and endearing. “Maybe, you can offer me another pick-me-up?”

Her soft laugh sent pink into his cheeks. “You’ll have to wait until lunch. The workday has begun.”

Carter checked his watch. “We have five minutes.”

“And what is that time for?” Sarah spun to wake up her computer.

His wide chest pressed against her shoulders as he let his breath trickle down her neck. “You could let me touch you. I can make you come in less than five minutes, and you know it.”

“Mmm, my kind of pick me up.”

“And you can return the favor at lunch.”

Sarah grinned wide, hiding it from Carter before she leaned into him and spread her legs.

His soft groan sent a shiver through her, and he drew his hand up the inside of her thighs. Rubbing her stoked the flames already present from her interactions with Ben, the floor manager, so she closed her eyes when Carter pushed the fabric of her panties aside and dipped into her wet core.

Instead of Carter, it was Ben’s wide fingers stroking, pushing, entering her.

A stupid fantasy since she refused to sleep with her boss, or her boss’s boss as it were. Even without the heavy taboo of it, the power dynamic shifts, and she was not up for handling that every day at her job.

Carter, however, knew what she liked, thrusting two fingers slowly inside her, his thumb circling her clit.

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat as his hand came down over her small breast–just enough there to grab and fondle. He rolled a nipple between a finger and thumb, making her hips jut forward into his palm.

His bulk kept her chair from spinning out from under her before she grabbed ahold of it for leverage. Body undulating over Carter’s thrusting fingers, she bit back her moan.

Pleasure built fast, coiling from her breast to her core. Tightening around his fingers triggered him to push her harder, the wet noise of his thrust echoed softly in her cubicle as she tried to catch the orgasm looming just out of reach.

Huffing moans blew through her nose, and her mouth fell silently open, head back against Carter’s shoulder as every muscle tightened, and she shattered.

Gyrating into his palm, she felt him grin against her ear as he whispered, “With a minute to spare.”

A kiss found her cheek before he retreated, the tease of his fingers making her shudder.

“I’ll see you at lunch.”

Her laughter followed him out, and she cleaned herself up before settling in to work.

Which did not go so smoothly. Usually, rubbing one out, or having a buddy help her do it, wiped away the cobwebs in her mind. But not even her latte cleared it of the distraction that had rooted itself there.

One with Ben’s face and large hands and honey eyes.

Sarah took one quick detour right before lunch to the small storage room that only fit one person at a time. It generally kept any hanky panky from happening amongst the supplies.

Generally.

Only Luke found her and crammed himself inside behind her as she bent over to grab some printer paper. His hands grabbed her hips and pulled her ass back into him.

Was he already hard under those slacks? It shouldn’t surprise her.

“And what are you doing here, Luke?”

She stood with some effort and maneuvering, and his hands to keep her balance.

“Looking for you.” He ground himself against her lightly.

“Looking for a quickie before lunch you mean?” Sarah was feeling popular today. Since she was giving back to Carter rather than receiving, she didn’t mind taking this for herself.

“Maybe.” He leaned against the closed door, lifted her skirt, and pulled her against him. The hard outline of him teased her.

“And if I say no?”

“I’ll go back to my desk disappointed but none the worse for wear.” Luke’s hands moved tentatively up to her waist. “Are you saying no?”

Sarah arched her ass back into him and shook her head, reaching back to unzip him. This man had a wonderful cock.

His soft growl made her smile. “Tease.”

“Mmm, I’m pretty sure teases don’t take cocks at the spur of the moment.”

“No. No, they don’t, bella.” Cock in hand, he yanked the cotton covering her aside and rubbed her folds with his fat head for far longer than normal.

Her groan didn’t change his tactics. “Now, who’s a tease?”

A low laugh preceded the jarring thrust of Luke’s hips. He buried himself to the hilt, pressing and enjoying the feel of her as much as she enjoyed the feel of him. Oh, how she loved being filled with a nice, thick cock.

Squeezing sent him into motion, short and hard thrusts that smacked her cheeks too loudly.

With how wired her body was today, it didn’t take long for her pleasure to spike high.

Luke’s hand curled over her mouth before her first cry burbled out. Oh, how well he knew her like this. Leaning her back enough for his gruff voice to find her ear, he whispered all of the dirty things she enjoyed about her tight puss, how much he loved making her come, the way he planned to make her shatter again and again, that he wanted her later when he could enjoy the full view of her body and take his time…

Sarah came hard, seizing in his arms and crying loudly into his palm.

He didn’t slow down one bit, and she limply took the railing of his cock against her overly sensitive flesh.

Fuck, she loved it.

Pleasure swelled again as he whispered about how she’d better give him a second orgasm before he came in her tight, little puss.

Oh, it wouldn’t take long, not when he angled his hips lower to hit the back wall of her sex.

A gurgling groan dropped her into him. One hand came up between her breasts, over her throat, but not to crush. He braced her against him so that he could leverage her safely against him.

The pumping picked up force, jarring that pleasure already pooled in her middle until she exploded again. His grunts accentuated his thrusts before he pulsed and came inside of her.

Finally, breath fully filled her lungs, sagging her with a bit of relief as Luke stroked the column of her neck, down her collarbone to grab a breast as he whispered in her ear.

“You are a dream come true, bella.”

Her laughter had him holding onto her with more strength.

“Mmm, especially when you squeeze me that way.” The gruff desire in his voice threatened to melt her all over again. “You will come home with me tonight?”

“Check back with me when the day is over. I’ve been staying late to finish a project.”

His breath warmed her ear. “Leave me in suspense. Seductress.”

Luke retreated, but she hit him with a ream of printer paper. “Take that back to my desk while I go clean up.”

His grin made her so many promises, and he winked as he backed out of the small storage space.

Sarah rushed to the nearby bathroom. Good thing she kept extra pairs of clean underwear in her desk.

After slipping on a new pair in front of her desk, she double-checked her notes on a new contract and sent it off to her boss before lunch. It gave her an extra few minutes while everyone cleared out, and she met Carter at his cubicle.

He faced her with a pout, like she was late. The boyish face and bulky body always made Sarah want to punish him. It wasn’t a huge tendency of hers, but he brought it out of her like no one else could.

“You’re giving me those eyes like you’ve been bad. What did you do?”

Those big shoulders shrugged, his hands folded in his lap.

Sarah stepped up to him, drawing her fingers up his thighs as she stepped around the back of his chair. Touch tripping along him as she lowered her mouth to her ear.

“What did you do, Carter?” Her hand dipped along his arm and under across his ribs and chest.

He took a slow breath that shook on its release. “Butchered the coffee you bought. Clogged the machine.”

“What a naughty boy.” Sarah worked open the button on his slacks, fumbling down his zipper, prolonging the play. 

Carter groaned. Her fingers breached his boxers and caught the head of his hard cock.

“Why should I reward you for something like that?”

“A new one will be delivered by the morning.” Another hitch in his chest accompanied her wrapping her hand around his length, giving a few explorative strokes.

“Mmm, well, that I can reward you for.” Sarah teased until his hips started moving. Only then did she double down. Wrapping her other hand in his blonde hair had her yanking his head back.

His hands balled into fists as he moaned low. “Fuck.”

She gripped him a little harder, pumped a little rougher as his breathing kicked up. “You’re going to be good for me?”

Carter’s muted nod made her fingers tighten in his hair, and his cock stiffened even more. It wouldn’t take her long to make him come.

Sarah’s mouth traipsed along his throat, and she pressed her teeth into its curve. He reached up to coax her further, to ask for more, so she bit him, hard enough to leave a mark. His groans vibrated low, and his cock pulsed.

She whispered in his ear. “Are you coming for me?”

“Y-yes.”

Grabbing the towel from his desk, Sarah exaggerated her thrusting pumps as he jerked in her hand, and she didn’t let up until she’d milked him completely.

His wide chest roiled as he fought for his breath, and his body slumped in his chair as she walked around the front of him.

“Did you really break my coffee maker?”

“The regular one, not the fancy one you try to keep hidden.”

Sarah slapped him on his thigh, but he caught her and pulled her in.

“I am sorry, and I did order a new one.” He sat up to give her the smallest kiss across her mouth. Most of the men she slept with in this building weren’t fans of kissing. Carter was one of the few who might indulge himself, but he was by far one of the sweetest, too.

Probably because he was still in his early twenties and not jaded by the taboos that one could fall into within the city limits of Mating Metropolis.

“Then, I forgive you.” Running her thumb over his chin, she took another small kiss before she stepped back. 

“When are you going to let me take you home?”

That cracked a smile across Sarah’s face. “Not tonight.”

Carter pouted again as she slipped out of his cubicle and back to hers. Grabbing her sparkly skull mug, she went to wash it in the small employee lounge kitchen but hesitated as Ben stood there again, right where she’d left him last time, leaning against the counter.

Read the rest of Sarah’s story here.

Moving to Mating Metropolis means giving into sexual whims with neighbors, co-workers, and strangers. It means forgoing long-held taboos.

Sarah likes to tease–co-workers, neighbors, the barista at the cafe down the street, but she doesn’t mess with bosses. It’s too much of a headache to navigate.

When Ben, the floor manager, aka her boss’s boss, shows up to offer her a contract, she’s not sure that she wants to say no.

Is a surprisingly intense attraction enough for her to take what he offers, or will she turn down his proposition?

Dive into this short, hot erotica story now & get some deals from GET THAT BOOK!

Breaking Winter Launches Today

Y’all, my 14-part series is launching book nine tomorrow, and it’s time for you to meet Ash! He is a hell of a lot for Winter to handle after Comet. But he pushes her in a way that no one else can due to his work as a mediator.

I’m launching a new book in the series every 28 days in 2022, and the series will be complete on December 31st.

To celebrate cycle nine, stay with me because the three chapters of the book is below for you to read!

Read the First Three Chapters Below!

CHAPTER ONE

Twenty-four hours wasn’t long enough to recover from Comet. Winter was on edge, and the tequila didn’t help. Maybe she should have gone to look for those plants her mother hid in the woods.

A current of eucalyptus seeped into the house before a knock sounded at the door. Winter took another two shots of tequila and answered it. The sun highlighted the angles of his shoulders, blinding her as the shock of his presence scraped against her every nerve ending.

This man’s nostrils flared when his features cleared. Golden brown hair wafted in his green eyes and more covered his jaw with a tight trim. Their gazes locked with an intense acknowledgement of their mutual attraction.

He held out his hand, and Winter decided to be polite. Could he really be worse than Comet? Prod her wolf as badly as Torrent? Already, she felt like she had more control.

“Ash.” He squeezed her hand but didn’t bring it up for a kiss.

Thank the goddess.

Winter nodded. “This way.”

Stomping off to the corner room on the top floor, she unlocked his door and dangled the key out for him.

Ash had no problem taking the key from her grip without touching her and walked into his room.

“Hey. I’m not your mom or your maid.”

He threw a glance at her.

Dismissed, she clomped away. Outside would work off this extra energy. A fire. Winter craved charred meat and sugar. First, collect and chop wood. She’d noticed a few fallen and dead trees on the grounds when running through the brush after returning from her father yesterday.

Dragging kindling down behind the house, she collected a nice pile within the hour and chopped through it in the next half. The burn cleared the jolt of attraction and the snubbing. Setting a large fire would erase the rest of it. Sweaty and clear-headed, she paced the backyard and smoothed the wet hair off her face.

Sausages, marshmallows, and drinks came with her outside before she got the flames started. The crackling soothed her; she popped a beer and enjoyed one of the new sweet date concoctions. A few thinner sticks survived from Basil for roasting, but Winter carved a few more as Ash stepped outside.

CHAPTER TWO

Chopping echoed softly in the room, drawing Ash to the far window. He’d unpacked his clothes in the closet and rinsed off in the shower. As he remembered, the house was beautiful and luxurious. The view was breathtaking in the summer; the green battled his memory of the frost-coated landscape. Out back, Winter collected a pile of wood and was swinging an axe. She appeared fierce but in control; chops measured as they sliced apart the trees and limbs.

Watching her sparked his fascination. The others mentioned her allure. Warned him. But it hit him so strongly that it hurt. Ash leaned against the windowsill until she’d built the fire and disappeared inside.

Finishing his routine, he slipped on a fresh shirt and combed his hair back again before descending to meet her at the logs, where she sharpened sticks and stuck sausages on the end. Six sizzled in the flames already.

“I’ve not sat at a bonfire in a very long time,” Ash said to break the ice.

“Kudos to you. You take anything from the fire, and you replace it.”

Sharp. Would she stand up in a debate?

When he sat a few feet away, she held out a beer for him. He took it, and Winter went back to sharpening her sticks and turning the ones submerged. How easily this female sat in silence, intent on her task and the food.

Ash forced himself to avert his gaze, staring into the flames as she did, but it only lasted for so long before he was drawn back to her. Finally, he thought enough to open his beer and take a swig, and flavor pummeled him—sweet and citrusy and nutty. His lips smacked without his consent, and it burned his cheeks, which were thankfully covered with hair.

Winter turned her attention to him. The hint of a smile brightened her features. “I take that as a compliment.”

The twitch of her eyebrow intrigued him, but her own bottle lifted for a long pull and paused any notion of conversation. Crinkling aluminum foil spread beside her, and she unloaded cooked sausages onto it before setting more into the fire. A bag of rolls, ketchup, and sauerkraut sat beside her, and Winter compiled and devoured three of them before she glanced at Ash again, tongue working over her teeth.

“What?”

Ash shook his head and took a sausage, sure to replenish what was cooking. 

She ate another four to his one, this time forgoing the bread and condiments and tossing them his way. “After three, it’s just filler.”

The configuration wasn’t something he usually put together, but he tried it her way. Delightfully surprised, he ate another two as she unloaded the next round of meat. Could she really eat all of that? Four topped his limit on the greasy meats. The beer cut through it nicely though. She knew how to create a pairing.

Two empties sat beside her, and Winter cracked open a bottle of tequila. The liquor didn’t faze her, but the way her lips wrapped around the spout and the sausages sent a flare through Ash.

“You’re going to be another one of those, aren’t you?”

His back stiffened as he nursed the end of his beer. “Another one of what?”

“Someone who stares at me like I’m some mythical creature.”

He had been doing that. Prepared to apologize, it stuck to the roof of his mouth as she licked her fingers clean—a slow dance of her lips and tongue prodded his wolf.

Was she doing it on purpose?

“You are one, aren’t you?” He asked.

Winter’s brow rose again, mouth quirking before she took another long draw from her bottle. “Depends on who you ask.”

“And who would you ask?” Ash appreciated the fluttering of her lashes and how they were less flirty and more taken aback.

She cleared the fire of the last round of sausage, squirting ketchup on the end between bites as she let his question hang between them. Once she finished, she sank against the front of the log and sighed.

“I wouldn’t ask anyone. I’m in isolation.”

“You are very literal.” Not a negative attribute. In fact, Ash rather enjoyed it. Blunt, too, from what he’d seen so far.

“Even before, I didn’t talk to many. But I suppose those who haven’t seen me and heard the stories of my battles might think so. The humans surely would. That’s nothing special.”

“The other alphas?”

Winter snorted. “I don’t know who told you that I can read minds, but I can’t. Besides, I’m sure some of the mystery and allure is lost once they’ve had their tastes of me.”

Another long, too long, pull of tequila had her throat working. Had his thoughts churning.

She shifted and popped a group of marshmallows directly into the flames.

“Those are going to burn.”

“Yup.” Once they were ablaze, she pulled them free, let them finish sizzling, and blew on them with a puckered mouth.

Ash closed his eyes. With all of the others he’d met, most of them he disliked, and the few he did like held no candle to Winter. When he opened his eyes, she was watching him as she ate her gooey treat.

How could she say nothing and affect him this strongly? He’d always found value in words and action, not feelings. Feelings could be manipulated. It didn’t stop him from having them, but logic fueled him.

The thud of his heartbeat and sweat in his palms was not rational.

He needed another drink.

CHAPTER THREE

Ash left her to her marshmallows, which was fine. Winter expected him to return, but when he didn’t, she was mildly relieved. This part was hard. They didn’t know each other.

She put out the fire and shoved some jalapeño poppers in the oven before wallowing on the couch. The effects of Comet’s magic lingered inside her, and she felt the withdrawals, even with the spark of heat Ash caused in her.

The poppers didn’t help, but they tasted good and reminded her of Marsh. 

Too many men in close succession. Winter wished she could press pause, but she was more than halfway done now. Summer was ending.

 Growing sleepy, she was surprised that he hadn’t reappeared. Usually, she was the one to go off and hide. It left her awake most of the night. Well, that on top of everything else. So, Winter camped on the couch with cookies and tea and tequila. Action movies set her mind at ease, so she watched explosions and car chases and gun fights until they all blurred together.

The cushion beside her moved, and Ash propped himself formally on the couch with her and his own cup of tea. Eucalyptus settled her senses.

“Why do you like to watch these kinds of things?”

Exhaustion made her frown at his question. “Because I do.”

“Because is not a good answer.”

“It’s the only one I’ve got.” Winter met his gaze to challenge him, but he met her with a mirror of it. 

“It’s not. You just don’t want to tell me.”

Fuck, she was too tired for this. “I don’t have to think when it’s life and death and fire and blood. That’s easy.”

“It taps emotions you are used to feeling: anticipation, fear, anger, and drive, etcetera.” Ash dissected her few words and actions too easily.

Winter shifted her feet to the floor, shutting down. “Well, you can watch whatever you want.”

The tequila bottle and dishes came with her to the kitchen. She almost left them in the sink, dirty, but she didn’t like that habit. Drying her hands, Winter tracked his movements toward her, and her muscles tensed with those exact emotions he’d accused her of.

“Don’t take offense. Don’t run.”

She whirled on him to pin him with another glare that didn’t deter him one bit. “What do you want from me?”

“Conversation. Debate. The truth.”

“You’re asking a lot straight off.”

Ash laughed, creeping ever closer. “Asking you about why you prefer to watch movies about action and war?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t question why I like the things I do, I have enough to think about otherwise.”

“Like what?”

The questions had her muscles jerking, pulse pounding with fight or flight. “I am not doing this with you.”

Another step forward sent her around the opposite corner of the counter.

“What about having a conversation scares you so much?”

Winter pivoted, surprised by how much space he eliminated between them. “This is not a conversation. It’s a hunt. You are looking for something, and I’m not willing to give it to you. I am not letting this happen to me again.”

That rounded Ash’s green eyes, and the softness and lack of cruelty became more obvious. “What happened?”

Frustrated and wanting to scream, Winter ground her teeth. “The last one, Comet, liked to do this to me. Provoke me with words and comments and questions.”

Drawn brows proved his disapproval at the comparison, even if small so far. He didn’t know the half of it. “I don’t understand what is wrong with those things on their own.”

Then, let her put it bluntly. “He liked to rile me up, so he could fuck me.”

A slow blink had him work through that. “He’s not here anymore.”

“It’s only been a day and a half for me, and for the twenty-eight days before that, it was my reality.”

He stepped back like her words had pushed him, and she turned to go. She couldn’t tell him how Comet got her addicted to his magic. Made her want it as much as she’d hated him. Made her search for the good things in him. Made her want to scrub her skin off and blame herself for enjoying any of it. 

“I could never do that to you,” Ash said, his words following her up to her room.

Thirteen Clans. Thirteen Males. One prize.

Winter Jarl is the most notorious female warrior of her species. Her father is chief, and he’s dying, so he’s cashed in on a promise she made long ago: he’s setting her up with an alpha from each of the thirteen clans before she takes over his position.

Sentenced to a year of isolation, she will spend twenty-eight days alone with each man. By the end of it, Winter must choose one to stand beside her. 

The challenge? She must be in love to produce an heir. 
​

Cycle Nine: Breaking Winter

After being violated by magic, Winter lashes out at the new alpha in her home. He pushes and engages her in ways she is not yet ready for. But her wolf won’t let her keep him at arm’s length.

​Ash has never reacted to a female like this before, and he doesn’t know what to do when he can’t rely on his usual practices. Trained to be impartial, his instincts scream to protect Winter even though she doesn’t need him for that. But so long as she needs him…

Jump into this intense paranormal erotica now and see who you want to win Winter’s heart.

A NEW SHORT STORY | Workplace Taboos: Joshua

excerpt

Tabitha: Headed into work early. I’ve got donuts.

Joshua grinned, pulling himself out of the sexy haze from his wet dreams. Every Wednesday without fail, he’d wake early with the expectation of a donut date with his colleague before work started. They traded off on who brought breakfast, but it was always something that wouldn’t sour in the hour they spent humping each other.

The regular sex with Tabitha spoiled him. Not that he didn’t sleep with other women throughout the week, but she was something special. The sexy and smart woman who shared a cubicle wall with him. The only woman at his job he’d ever been inside. 

The one he’d fantasized about most, even after getting his taste. Once a week didn’t seem like enough, but Joshua feared inviting her to play outside of work.

Although, he wouldn’t mind having her in a proper bed with all the time in the world to take advantage of.

Rushing through his shower and morning routine, he was glad for the long strap of his bag. It made his hard-on easier to hide on his commute.

Tabitha did that to him. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on her meaty hips.

The thoughts weren’t helping one bit. A woman across from him languidly ran her gaze along his body as if she could scent his stiff cock.

Maybe she could. Stranger things had happened.

Her attention did nothing to settle him, although the blood did start flowing through his actual brain until she stood. The woman’s long skirt split at her hip to show a tantalizing slice of thigh. Her top did similarly for her cleavage when she bent to hand him a card on her way off the bus. Those dark eyes twinkled at him with promises of a good time.

And he tucked the card into his shirt pocket as she blew him a kiss with her ruby lips.

Joshua’s face burned, likely turning the same color. The heat slowly dissipated before he hopped off at his stop.

Up the three flights of stairs had his heart pumping, but it wiped away enough of his needy haze for him to clear the office before he sat at his own desk.

He leaned back in his chair as the scent of grease and sugar preceded the click of Tabitha’s heels. A flowy skirt started at her knees, accentuating the width of her hips and the narrowness of her waist.

She giggled and swayed as she walked, breasts heavy free of a bra under the loose fabric of her top. The sight made Joshua’s mouth water. He craved the taste of her skin.

Darkness glittered in her eyes as she sauntered toward him.

His cock hardened against his slacks again, draining away all thoughts except for her.

Tabitha neared, tossing the donuts on the desk behind him and dropping her bags to the floor before she slid into his lap.

Joshua grabbed a hold of her, squeezing her hips and ass as she leaned in.

That plump mouth of hers teased him, brushing soft kisses over his as she sank against his hard-on.

“Mmm. Good morning.” Her breath smelled of minty toothpaste.

“It’s turning out that way.”

Tabitha grinned and gave him a taste of her mouth.

Joshua rubbed them together through their clothes. When they were like this, he couldn’t find a fault in wanting it more often.

She opened to him, hot mint on her tongue as they rocked their hips together.

Gathering her skirt in his grip, he bared her skin to him. Joshua splayed his touch over her thighs as Tabitha moaned sweetly into their kiss.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all night.” Dropping her attention to his throat, her teeth nipped and teased as she loosened his tie, spread the collar of his shirt, and reached for the buttons down the front of him.

Fuck, he wanted to be inside of her.

And he could smell the sweet scent of her arousal, thinly veiled by her tiny cotton thong.

Joshua traced the fabric down from her hips to the crease of her cheeks before tapping at the triangle that covered her core. The cotton soaked through.

Oh how many things he wanted to do to her, with her, that he couldn’t in this restrictive setting. In their office where they had to be quick and quiet and protect themselves from prying eyes.

Tabitha tugged at his slacks, freeing the head of his cock to her fingertips.

Joshua slipped his touch under her thong, stroking the seam of her lips and splaying them wide with two digits.

Her moan accompanied the press of her teeth against his throat. Wiggling down, she gave him better access to her core, mouth tracing a path across his chest.

He sank those two fingers inside of her, slipping in without problem and loving how ready she was for him. Joshua wasted no time curving his fingers to hit that spot he knew she liked. The sooner he could make her come, the sooner he got to enjoy the way only she could squeeze around him.

Tabitha freed more of his cock, pumping her delicate fist over him as her hips moved her over his hand.

Those dark eyes blazed up at him with a deep, dirty desire. “Mmm, I like how well you know my body.”

Her core tightened around his fingers, and Joshua worked her harder, making her pant across his chest. Fuck, if only he had more time. Maybe, she’d let him have her for lunch. She could eat at her desk, and he could eat her. He so desperately wanted more of her. All of her. All the time.

Mating Metropolis was not the place to find a long-term relationship, but he couldn’t help it. Not with Tabitha.

“Come here.” Joshua’s free hand yanked the top of her dress down to expose her breasts as he reared her higher in his lap, thrusting into her with a bit more vigor. He sucked one of her soft nipples into his mouth, using his tongue and teeth to harden that bud. 

Once her soft moans fell free and her hips rotated with the suction of his mouth and flickering of his tongue, he switched to her other breast, keeping her against him as she wriggled.

Her moans dropped low with her hips, grinding against his hand until Tabitha shattered around his digits.

Tabitha ran her fingers through the ends of his hair, tugging gently as she settled. The quiet moment wouldn’t last long. Still, Joshua pressed her bare chest against his and slowly drew his hand free of her core.

She murmured against his collarbone before she retreated enough to look up at him.

God, she was beautiful. By far the most beautiful woman he’d ever had gathered in his arms this way.

Pulling his mouth down to hers elicited a groan from them both.

Her hips backed off of his lap, and she yanked at his slacks so that he had to lift himself up to allow her to pull them past his knees. And with his shoes tangled in his pants, Tabitha straddled him once more, rubbing the wetness of her core over his hard and aching cock.

Gripping her ass with both hands, he helped guide her down on him, head catching in her folds before he took the slow plunge into her.

She strangled him with her pussy, rocking her hips in measured circles so that he scraped against every part of her.

“Fuck, you’re magnificent.” Joshua couldn’t help confessing against her throat as her head fell back to give his mouth free reign of her skin.

Squeezing her round, plump ass in one hand sank a finger between her cheeks, teasing her rosette, and he grabbed a breast in his hand, finding that hard bud to pinch and rub and pluck.

The noise it yanked out of her had him doubling down.

Tabitha rode him harder, her grip rough on his shoulders as she moved. He wanted her to come. Demanded it before he planted her on her rear and took all of the things he needed.

He rubbed her taint as she moved, dropping soft fuck, fuck, fuck’s into his hair.

A new angle to her hips scraped his cock against new ridges, and he felt her fluttering before she gave in. Grinding loosened her muscles with her control. 

Joshua milked the pleasure out of her for a few seconds before he lifted her and propped her in his office chair. Hooking her knees in his elbows, he grabbed hold of the seat beneath her and plunged himself back into her core, using the wheels to thrust Tabitha over himself.

Tabitha’s pouty lips blew a gust of exasperated air as her muscles shook and her core clamped down on him.

The way her toes curled, how her nails dug into his shoulder without scratching or trying to push him away, her dress pooled around her middle, naked breasts bouncing with the force he gained in manipulating the furniture.

She seethed as he took her, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“God, you are pure temptation and sex appeal.”

And he enjoyed watching himself disappear between her glistening folds.

Shortening his thrusts, he accentuated with the swing of his hips until she cried out and held onto the back of his chair.

“Are you going to come for me again? Already?”

Soft murmurs jumbled in her throat. Tabitha clamped down on him, so close to her end that she was pliable under him.

Joshua grunted, his own pleasure building to a small frenzy, holding himself back as she pulsed with ecstasy. One more after this before he let himself go.

He leaned down over her, wedging the chair back into the wall.

Tabitha cursed under him, shaky fingers bracing his shoulders and chest under his open shirt. The new angle of her hips squeezed her around him, and he was going to lose it quickly this way.

Worse when her thumb dipped over his bottom lip. A few orgasms in, and Tabitha became a different creature, and he could drown in her pussy. Starve. Completely forget the world.

He swore this woman was a succubus. 

“I want your lunch break.”

Those dark eyes flashed up to meet his, pure hedonistic pleasure pooling there.

“I want to dig in your box of toys.” Joshua reached between them to rub her clit, soaked from her multiple orgasms.

She moaned a deep yes for him.

He couldn’t help but grin at her with the promise of things he would do to her. Enough to make her want to stay late tonight. Enough to let him take her home. For one night. Just one night with all the time in the world to make her feel good.

Soft whimpers and whines revved them both up. He needed to end her before someone else came into work

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered to her. Especially when he was under him like this.

When she was breaking apart, slick with sweat and cum, nipples hard, mouth agape, folded in half, and taking his cock like a champ.

“Fuck, Tabitha.” 

She bore down on him, clinging to his shoulders.

Joshua gave in, slamming and rooting into her, so hard and sensitive as he skated along the peak.

Her cry shuddered them together, and he came in her with such force that darkness weaved into the back of his vision before collapsing a little against her.

Legs lowering to wrap around his back, Tabitha nuzzled against his neck, and he turned his face to hers, drawing a sweet and tense kiss from her mouth. He didn’t want to retreat yet, even though he knew he had to. And soon.

Read the rest of Joshua’s story here.

Moving to Mating Metropolis means giving into sexual whims with neighbors, co-workers, and strangers. It means forgoing long-held taboos.

Joshua never imagined he would get a taste of his drop-dead gorgeous co-worker, but now that they’ve crossed that line, he can’t seem to get enough of her.

On one of their weekly hump-day dates before work, he takes a leap to see just how much he can get her to agree to without crossing another line.

Will she be open to taking things a little further, or will he ruin the arrangement they already have?

Dive into this short, hot erotica story now & get some deals from GET THAT BOOK!

Bewitching Winter Launches Today

Y’all, my 14-part series is launching book seven tomorrow, and it’s time for you to meet Comet! He is not the best, but they couldn’t all be great, right? He is important though.

I’m launching a new book in the series every 28 days in 2022, and the series will be complete on December 31st.

To celebrate cycle eight, stay with me because the three chapters of the book is below for you to read!

On a side, personal note, y’all! I am having a hell of a month. A death in the family (an absolutely heartbreaking one), my family got Covid, then I got an eye infection. Talk about painful.

Here’s hoping I got the year’s worth of pain out of the way over the last three weeks.

Anyways, enjoy the chapters!

Read the First Three Chapters Below!

CHAPTER ONE

Winter reminded herself to breathe. How had this part gotten more adrenaline inducing than standing on the precipice of battle? A half bottle of wine sat chilled in the fridge after Marsh, and she sucked it straight from the neck.

A small smile hit her lips with the reminder of his taste. He’d really bloomed while he was here, and she liked being the cause of it.

The knock at the door sent a tremor down her spine.

You’ve got this.

The door opened to a pouty and angular man with hair flowing and curling around his features. His dark complexion and smoky eyes were hypnotic. Magic practically swirled under his skin.

But the way he ogled her slammed her walls down, and his smile made her queasy.

“Hey, mami.” A soft and low voice meant to entice her.

It made her feel dirty. And not the good kind.

Crossing her arms, Winter narrowed a dark look at him. “Winter. I am not your sugar or your sweetheart or your darling or your bambi.”

He grinned at her. 

She led him to his room without proper introductions. This was Comet. She knew it because her father mentioned his name, and he followed her with a slow, easy gait. His key dangled in the air for him as he arrived.

Comet paused, undressing her with his gaze before taking the key.

Something about this guy did not feel right; as interesting as the parts of him were, the whole repelled her. So much for liking them all. “You better know how to feed and clean up after yourself.”

Winter stomped off to that slimy smile.

Back to her old tendencies then, but instead of hiding in the training room, she ran off to the paths and up the side of the mountain her home was built on. The climb burned through her muscles and lungs, and the view at the first stop reminded her so much of Basil. When he’d looked at her, it burned her with need.

This new guy…

Winter shuddered, like someone hid in her woods, watching her.

Her stomach sank at the thought of sleeping with him.

Fuck, couldn’t I hide in the woods during the full moon?

Brushing the sweat off her face and the hair back from her eyes, shame and weakness consumed Winter. She wouldn’t run, much more prone to beating an obstacle.

Anger made her hungry. Her old self, a comfortable personality to sink into, meant food and fighting. Jogging down the mountain path fueled her more than soothed her. Winter was ready to strike by the time she reached the kitchen.

Comet stood with one of her beers, dangling in front of his mouth. Smoky brown eyes slapped her with magic.

Nope. She did not like him.

And he stood barring the freezer.

“Move.”

Blinking slow at her, he straightened and stepped out of her way.

The freezer door almost slammed into his face, but Winter wrangled the frenzy inside and pulled her favorite—jalapeño peppers, which she paired with the spicy wings.

“So, what are we having…?”

He implied the endearment but didn’t say it directly.

Winter banged the frozen packages down on the counter and glared. “I’m not your maid or your mom. Feed yourself.”

“But I’m your guest.”

She stopped, giving him the sharpest part of her annoyance. “This is not my house. You are no one’s guest.”

Throwing her own meal into the oven, she pulled her new, frozen bottle of sweet tequila and cracked it open to embrace this silent stare down. Why did he seem so amused by her? 

He didn’t engage her verbally, but his gaze did. Somehow, alpha men didn’t recoil at her sweaty self. Maybe the pheromones ensnared them. Comet embodied the southwest beach bodies. The Nerthus clan roamed the edge of the country along the sand to the cliffs and the base of the mountains. He was a nomad, one of the artistic and magical kind: a moon necklace hung between the open collar of his shirt, metal rings with strong stones lined his hands, and a scarf tied around his wrist. Comet looked ready to play a trick on her.

When the oven beeped, she piled her food on two platters and took them to her room as his laugh followed her.

CHAPTER TWO

Damn. Good thing that woman was beautiful. They’d understated it. Half of it came from her attitude. Comet’s guts burned from the threat in her gaze; she wanted to cut him open and let his intestines spill over the floor. But if he had to mate for his family’s advancement, he was glad to have a beautiful woman as a prize. 

She’d take some finesse to manipulate, though. A female not concerned with vanity took half of his arsenal, but dominance and power might make her emotions fumble. Anger was a cinch to twist. Winter’s already crackled at the seams.

When she vacated the kitchen with two huge plates of food in hand, Comet turned to the cabinets to scrounge up his own meal. The fridge had plenty of prepared foods to make it easy. Ham, pickle, and rolls made for a filling lunch. Whoever made it packed the meat and veg with seasoning. Not as good as his Yaya’s, but nothing to spit at. 

The beer held new levels of flavor though, like nothing he’d ever tasted before. Would complimenting her on it win him any points? Not at this stage of the game.

Magic seemed to irk her, and Comet was brimming with it. He could play parlor tricks all day, distracting others with classic misdirection, especially in the human world. Not that he couldn’t pull one over on wolves or vampires or goblins alike, but he preferred simple diversions, especially when a pretty girl was around to flirt with because it always bothered Mihaela, his long-term on-again-off-again girlfriend.

Her anger wasn’t sharp like Winter’s. It was soft and underhanded, almost cold. She’d freeze him out and make him burn for her. Indifference instead of hatred was harder to suffer through, and she’d honed that weapon like a sword. It’s why he always went back.

Now, she had to deal with Comet being here, and he couldn’t wait for the change when he returned with the scent of his alpha on him. She’d have a meltdown, and it would be sexy as hell.

Magic sparked across his fingers as Winter traipsed into the kitchen with her empty plates, which spread a smile across his face. She wasn’t lady-like, which didn’t bother him one bit, but did it upset her?

“Ate all of that, did you?”

Her pause in the middle of the room, dishes aloft, honed a skilled glare of abominable hatred. “And?”

Comet raised his brow to needle her. “I’ve never seen a woman eat so much, just wish I’d gotten to witness it.”

Her plates clattered in the sink. “You’ll be here long enough.”

Oh, she didn’t sound happy about that. This avenue might work.

“Did you make the beer?”

The first plate thunked in the drainer, and the water roared, then the second platter thunked. Winter faced him. “I did. With my father.”

“And the tequila?”

“The tequila is mine, too.” Her ownership of it was obvious. 

“I like a female who can drink, unless she drinks me under the table.”

Her snort packed a punch. “Learn to hold your liquor.”

“I bet that works for you in the field with all of those men.” It clearly read as he’d intended by the way her eyes narrowed.

“It did.” Something darker lingered under the surface. Winter’s regret gnawed at her. 

Comet tucked that away for later. He’d get nowhere if he poked at the wound right now, and he wasn’t surprised when she clomped off again. Time to take advantage of the couch and extra-large TV. Luxury he never had but always wanted.

CHAPTER THREE

Winter avoided Comet as much as possible, and he didn’t seem too keen on chasing her, which was a blessing. The office became her sanctuary again, and she fell into books, thinking about Marsh. How easy it’d been when he was here. She missed reading while propped against his side.

The book in her hand depressed her. History usually did, written with the bias this had, but the information about Nerthus clan would help figure out how to deal with Comet. She hoped. Several chapters talked about their nomadic nature. Others delved into their trades. The clan broke in two centuries ago, part of them planted roots—literally—growing hops and oats and perfecting the process of brewing tasty and popular beer. That, she hadn’t known.

Oh, she did not want to invite him into the cellar to brew beer, but should she?

Groaning, Winter hated the thought of trying to bridge the obvious rift between them. Common ground and all. Ugh.

Not yet.

The other half of the Nerthus clan, the ones who roamed, were the more magical kind. That certainly pegged Comet. Was it his lifestyle that made him not take her and this situation seriously? Or was that merely him?

Did it really matter?

What was it about him that repulsed her?

Maybe how his comments implied her lack of lady-like behaviors? They certainly annoyed her, but Winter never pretended to be a lady. Ever.

Hunger distracted her reading, and she grumbled as much as her stomach did. Comet had a habit of hanging out in the kitchen and in front of the TV, as if he knew that’s where she preferred to relax.

This was going to be a long twenty-eight days.

Two days in, and it already felt like an eternity.

Bracing herself, Winter trudged down to refuel, and there he was, sitting in her spot.

Two trays of food went into the oven. She brewed coffee—enough for him to have some, but she wouldn’t serve him.

Winter snacked on sweet biscuits while she waited and ignored Comet’s gaze.

The coffee gave her something better to do with her hands, and she propped herself in the corner beside the oven to drink it. When the timer beeped, she heaped the fried food on her plate and settled onto an island stool to devour it.

He wanted to see her eat. Let him see her eat.

Winter closed her eyes to the poppers and the salty creaminess of the treat: the only thing that kept her from getting overly riled up by his attention or how it threatened to ruin her meal. Worse when he slunk off the couch to stand opposite her.

She pointed to the pot. “Coffee.”

Comet smiled.

Winter shoved food in her face, chewing obnoxiously to needle him.

His laugh made her skin crawl. “You eat like a caged beast.”

Another whole popper shoved into her mouth, and she chomped loudly, staring at him, daring him to keep talking. Two more slipped through her lips before his features danced in disbelief, and he turned to the sizzling coffee pot.

Not a single crumb was left when she finished, and Comet pursed his lips with the want to say something.

“What?”

“You don’t look like you could eat it all.”

“Now, you’ve seen it.”

“And I was mistaken.”

“You were.”

“I’m sure your mother struggled to keep up with you when you were young.”

Winter stood, the stool scraping back in her haste. “Not at all. Amarok has an equally ravenous appetite.”

“Do you often compare yourself to your father rather than your mother?”

“Yes.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I am most like him.” She didn’t actually believe that anymore. Her father had told her new stories over the last few months that made her realize just how much like her mother she was. “If you want to see why I eat so much, you can come take your beating.”

Dishes washed, Winter wound her way to the training room, and Comet followed.

She wished she hadn’t invited him, but it was better to get this over with.

Thirteen Clans. Thirteen Males. One prize.

Winter Jarl is the most notorious female warrior of her species. Her father is chief, and he’s dying, so he’s cashed in on a promise she made long ago: he’s setting her up with an alpha from each of the thirteen clans before she takes over his position.

Sentenced to a year of isolation, she will spend twenty-eight days alone with each man. By the end of it, Winter must choose one to stand beside her. 

The challenge? She must be in love to produce an heir. 
​

Cycle Eight: Bewitching Winter

This new alpha’s magic sets Winter on edge. Immune to his kind of influence, she resents his blatant attempts at manipulating her.

​Comet has never seen the kind of wealth and amenities the Jarl estate possesses. He plans to find a way to claim his prize and the riches for his own.

Jump into this intense paranormal erotica now and see who you want to win Winter’s heart.

A NEW SHORT STORY | HORMONAL REACTIONS

Chapter ONE

Betty settled the twins in their play pen with a movie, their favorite, before she prepped dinner at the nearby kitchen counter. It was the kind of night to make something easy: meat, vegetables, noodles, and cheese mixed in a pot, covered with foil, and shoved into a preheated oven.

Checking on the boys, they lay cuddled with their toys, eyes drooping as they followed the colorful creatures on the TV.

The garage door opened and closed, and Betty slipped away to meet her husband in the mud room, driven by the spikes of her hormones and the anticipation of what came tomorrow—her visit to the fertility farm for a second round of treatment.

She’d tackled Charlie against the door before he could shrug off his jacket and put his briefcase down. Her hands roamed his broad chest and stomach, a little softer than when they married a decade ago, but she liked it. It did nothing to distract from the solid strength of her husband against her.

His plump mouth curled into a slow grin. Betty’s sexdrive spiked last week, and she’d taken it out on him.

“The kids are subdued in the living room. We should have a couple of minutes.” She yanked at his belt and opened his slacks to grab ahold of him, delighted by how a few seconds of her touch and the promise of pleasure could have him half hard already.

Charlie sank a hand in her hair and kissed her, pumping her blood harder. “What did you have in mind?”

Betty pumped her hand over his cock, earning a soft moan. “For now, I want you in my mouth.”

A squeeze earned a second moan, lower and more gruff.

“I want to build you up until you fuck my face.”

Charlie started, eyes wild at her dirty words. They weren’t shy with each other, but she didn’t often talk so explicitly. But while the boys napped midmorning, Betty’s restlessness got the best of her, and she clicked through a few of the porn videos on her husband’s search history.

They gave her enough inspiration to rub one out, but the fantasies wouldn’t stop. She imagined all day what it would take for the tears to stream down her face like the women in those videos.

Her husband’s shaft was hard as stone as she sank to her knees.

He didn’t need to ask what had gotten into her, merely cupping her cheek and running his thumb over her parted lips.

A long stroke of his cock hooded his eyes, and his breath came in bigger waves.

Leaning in shifted his grip on her, weaving his fingers into her hair as Betty suckled on his fat red head, tasting his precum as her tongue smoothed down his shaft.

Charlie grunted as she worked him to the back of her throat. He was thick like the rest of him, heavy and wide and not too long. It was why she liked to blow him—maybe not all the time, but often enough that she knew how to work him into a frenzy.

Gently pressing her teeth against the bundle of nerves underneath his head, she sucked him to the roof of her mouth. It had his hips rolling in inches.

Usually, Betty would take her time with him, enjoy the way she could make him twitch and the noises she could draw from him. Now was not the time for slow.

Charlie growled his approval, fingers twitching at the base of her neck with the instinct to take control of her.

Betty desperately wanted to break his resistance, taking all of him and swallowing him back again and again until his thighs quivered and his grip tightened in her hair.

Blinking up at him, she asked him for what they both wanted.

His hips thrust lightly, and Betty spread her hands over the small square of skin she’d exposed, caressing the sensitive skin there.

“God, Betty. If it becomes too much, pinch me, and I’ll stop.”

She nodded the best she could, cupping the underside of his shaft with her tongue.

The swing of his cock at the back of her throat picked up force, gagging her briefly until she caught onto his rhythm. He held her in place as he plunged into her, gaze glued to her mouth.

“Take your tits out. Play with them for me.” Gruff took over his voice, the desire in his gaze soaking her panties.

Betty pulled down her loose tank top, taking her thin sports bra with it to release her small breasts. The extra fabric smashed them a bit closer together, and her hands skimmed over her sensitive flesh and nipples.

They budded hard in an instant, and she thrummed her fingers over the peaks, moaning around her husband’s cock.

As she squeezed her breasts, Charlie picked up the pace, finally handling her with a bit of muscle and need. Betty’s throat felt full and sore as he pounded into her, and she fought to breathe. The lightheadedness didn’t scare her as he found a speed that she could adapt to.

Every few strokes pinged her gag reflex, making him groan a little louder as she swallowed past it, and tears gathered in the corners of her eyes.

“Roll those nipples, pinch and pluck them for me, baby.” His breath staggered, his gaze dropping to her breasts as she did as he asked.

Pleasure shot through her as she played with her nipples, such soft caresses in comparison with the hardness battering her throat.

Charlie was finally fucking her face with gusto, the demand and rush of a looming orgasm darkening his features.

Betty’s back arched; her hips spread on instinct, gyrating with the want for him to fuck her little pussy, too. She circled her nipples with her thumb, blinking away the tears and letting them stream down her cheeks.

Biting back a roar, Charlie grit his teeth and shot hot cum down her throat. A few frenzied thrusts died down as quickly as they started, and he pulled his cock free of her mouth, dripping with his pleasure and her saliva.

Pulling her to her feet, Betty’s husband planted her against the wall where he’d just been, mouth dropping to her exposed breasts as she pressed her lips closed tight against the cry it drew out of her.

Yanking her leggings down her hips, Charlie rubbed her mound, spread her swollen lips, and shoved a fat finger inside of her. Betty easily shifted to accommodate him, biting her lip at the burn his touch spread.

“God, yes.” Her head fell back, sinking into the probing desire.

“Did choking on my cock really make you this wet?” Charlie slipped another finger inside her, stretching her almost as wide as his cock would.

A high, keening note escaped her control. Betty rocked over his hand, matching his fervent thrusts and their mutual search for pleasure.

His hot mouth suckled and flicked and pinched at her nipples as his palm slapped against clit.

Core throbbing, Betty’s nails tore at his jacketed shoulders, bracing herself for the onslaught of climax. “Please.”

Charlie doubled down, and her body moved on its own, seeking an end in the fiery crest rolling over her.

Every muscle tightened, and she bore down on his digits, body stiff as his fingers fucked her core the same way his cock had fucked her mouth just minutes ago. He kept her riding that high for far longer than she thought possible.

His hot mouth on her throat, beside her ear, brought her back to the mud room and how his fingers slipped free of her, teasing that bundle of nerves until she shuddered.

“I can’t wait to fuck you later.” Charlie growled against her ear, and Betty burned all over again.

She couldn’t wait either.

Read the rest of Betty’s story here.

Come to the fertility farm, where impregnation tends to be far more fun.

Betty’s new hormone regiment has her re-enacting her favorite porn scenes with her husband at home, much to his pleasure.

But when the man she’s paying to impregnate her takes the boyfriend experience to the next level, she’s afraid of what her reaction to him means.

Dive into this short, hot erotica story now!

WORSHIPING Winter Launches Today

Y’all, my 14-part series is launching book seven tomorrow, and it’s time for you to meet Midnight! He is one hell of a character, and I love that.

I’m launching a new book in the series every 28 days in 2022, and the series will be complete on December 31st.

To celebrate cycle seven, stay with me because the three chapters of the book is below for you to read!

Read the First Three Chapters Below!

CHAPTER ONE

Why did she always have this heavy dread in the pit of her stomach for the hour before a new alpha arrived? Like she’d felt as a girl when she had to socialize with the kids from other families. The other girls would want to play with dolls or hair or make up, and all she wanted to do was get out of her dress and run wild outside. Which was exactly what happened by the end of night.

Winter’d come home and get a slap on the wrist from her father and her mother’s tongue as she was washed. More so when the boys she’d run off with came back with bruises and filth like she was the bad influence.

Maybe she was. Certainly more now than when she was a pup, but the boys who’d slipped off were just being boys. Although she absolutely led the ones after her mother’s death. She’d turned radioactive, and when she’d launched herself off the side of one of the cliffs to a river and came out with five broken bones, Amarok cracked down on her training. Gave her focus before she killed herself. The other two boys that followed her broke more than five.

Winter won her reputation as a bad seed—dangerous.

The knock on the door jarred her from the memory. Taking a swig from her glass of tequila, she braced herself to answer it.

She opened the door to a tall man with dark hair and eyes and…

My goddess, he’s beautiful.

The dark suit did him so many favors in that department, but it also showcased this new alpha as the epitome of poise and good breeding. He even gave her a slight bow.

“Miss Winter Jarl, a pleasure to meet you.”

Her mouth pursed at the sound of his warm voice. The embodiment of a gentleman. 

“For now, Mr. Marsh Orvar.” Part of her mocked the formality, the other part wondered if she should have worn one of her mother’s dresses.

Way too long lashes brushed his lightly pinked cheeks as he looked down.

Was she embarrassing him already? This would be interesting.

“Come on, I’ll show you to your room.” Winter walked away without waiting, but he followed prompt on her heels. His room was across from the study with Dad’s books, a few rooms down from hers.

The magic clicked as the door unlocked, and she held the key out to him. He moved with the grace of a man used to being seen, but he didn’t seem so talkative. Nor did he look at her with the blatant show of undressing her like most of the others had.

In fact, Marsh reminded her of the way North had responded to her—formal, reserved, and proper, but she’d been wrong about him at first. Maybe, she’d learn and be nicer this time. The opposite of her wasn’t such a bad thing. Yet, the gold accents to his suit jacket didn’t help.

Safely in his room, he put his suitcase down and peered sideways at her.

“I hope you know how to cook and clean up after yourself.” She left him with that sentiment as she had all of the others.

After the brazen openness of Midnight, Marsh’s decorum had Winter a little more insecure. A light and mostly liquid lunch it was then: her old buddy tequila and some tea, but she smashed together a few ham sandwiches before she left the kitchen to stake her claim somewhere in the house.

CHAPTER TWO

Winter Jarl was more striking than Marsh remembered. Those hazel-green eyes seemed to see him more fully than the first time they’d met, nearly forty years ago. She was still the most stunning creature he’d ever seen. The warnings her father and friend boasted seemed so detached from the reality of Winter. Maybe the last six cycles polished her edges, but that sharp, preceptive gaze and the agility in her movements screamed danger.

It left him in awe of her.

Enamored.

The woman he judged all other women against for the bulk of his adult life.

She might just chew him up and spit him out, heartbroken, but no matter how he imagined these next twenty-eight days, even the worst of them amounted to more than he’d ever had with a woman. And for it to be Winter…

He took a deep breath once she left and savored the mint and rosemary scent of her—cleaner now, distinctive, and he wanted to commit it to memory. Hair filtered through his fingers, and the heat in his cheeks and throat persisted, even though they’d spent mere minutes together.

The side-table drawer held a pad of paper and pen, so he scrawled out the imagery she conjured in a wrapping of pretty words. Folding it and placing it in his pocket, he freshened up in the bathroom, washing his face and changing his shirt. Marsh went in search of Winter without trying to seem too obvious, but what else did he have to do here other than learn about her.

She sat on the couch with a cup of tea in her hands and a bottle of tequila in her lap. A tray sat on the coffee table with crumbs and a crumpled napkin.

Marsh hovered at the entrance to the kitchen. This interaction thrilled and terrified him. He was so bad with women, awkward and too quiet. Putting his own thoughts and feelings to words made him choke, but give him a pen and paper, or a poet to quote, and he could fake it competently enough. A difficult charade to keep up.

Shaking it off, he took the jagged step into the kitchen, opening the fridge and smiling at the containers of prepared foods and bottles of beer. He took one, not accustomed to the beverage, but he wasn’t ready for the hard stuff.

Nerves got the better of him, so he slid the piece of paper onto the counter and retreated the way he’d come, circling the house with a slow intent of examining each picture and piece of art, noting what each room held, and not immediately coming around behind Winter watching television. He would end there eventually. She was a magnet, and he was iron.

His favorite room on the first floor was filled with plants and large windows that arced to the ceiling. Benches spread across the bottom of them, and the green outside matched the table of green inside, making the room seem much more open. Its smell calmed him, closing his eyes.

Did it make Winter feel like she resided in the wilderness? Surely, she could merely go outside for that.

Marsh didn’t typically spend extended time outside, except for his morning walks. Business kept him from other leisurely activities during the day, and he usually read at night. With the extra free time, this would make a nice place to sit and read, to think. Moreover, he couldn’t wait for his first morning walk around these grounds. He didn’t often get the chance to explore a mountain so thoroughly.

He took a few pictures of the plants and the windows, and he lingered for a little while before circling again, pausing in front of the training room, where he imagined Winter practicing in the tight under armor he’d seen her in so long ago, sweaty, dirty, and smeared with blood, and heat swathed him.

Pushing the overwhelming reaction down, he closed in on the large living room, cut in half by the couch and filled with the pool table behind it. A dartboard hung on the wall to his right as he entered, but Winter didn’t sit on the couch. The TV sat paused mid-action in the show.

Heart hammering, he took the quick and quiet steps to the corner of the pool table, and he caught the edge of her at the counter where he’d left the paper. She tapped her fingers beside it, flipping it in her grip and pursing her lips. 

Winter’s eyes widened when she finally unfolded the paper and read the contents. Short and sweet and spreading a smile across her face. Her gaze lifted, and he slipped out of view, turning to the window. Her steps entered the room behind him.

He took three breaths before he peered at her.

She’d paused in front of the couch to survey him and slid back onto the cushions as if to say she wouldn’t bite unless prompted, but he retreated to examine the second floor, finding his favorite room by far—the one that held books he’d never seen before.

CHAPTER THREE

A folded note sat on the counter. It hadn’t been there before.

Winter washed her dishes, dried her hands, and stood in front of that paper, fiddling with it, tapping the counter in indecision.

Was this for her? Who else would it be for, Winter?

Unfolding it, a short poem etched across the small page.

Fire trapped in form

Coiled veins of magma

Scorch skin like dragon’s breath

Heart vulnerable to her blade

Ready to bleed upon approach

Something about the gory romance made Winter smile. 

Had he written this about her? And just left it here?

She read the poem again and brought it back to the couch with her. Marsh stood by the window, pausing her.

Spying on her? Rather juvenile but cute. Was he shy?

The slow turn to regard her screamed, yes. Terribly shy.

Winter wouldn’t try to scare him off, but she wasn’t so great at initiating either. Sliding into the couch, she touched the paper in her pocket and tried not to laugh as he ran away.

That was more of what she’d been used to before this whole thing started.

Decorum wasn’t her forte. Ask to take a beast’s head off or build a fire or field strip a squirrel, sure, Winter could do that. But polite conversation wasn’t what men typically had with her. It was all innuendo and threat in her prior life. Mostly the former, but now, that seemed so far away.

Winter wished she was better at carrying on a normal conversation. How badly would her bluntness scar her interactions with Marsh?

When the episode waited to transition to the next, she read the poem once more.

He knew how bad she was at this. He had to.

When she stood to stretch her legs, she caught a flash of white on the window sill. A polaroid sat against the glass. Winter picked it up: a closeup of her red gerbera daisies. The composition was pleasing, not that she knew how to replicate it.

Her mother had loved art in all forms, so she learned some of the lingo.

Slipping the photo with her poem in her back pocket, Winter grabbed a fresh beer and traipsed up to the study for a book. Hot sand and sea lingered in the doorway, so she wasn’t surprised when Marsh filled the chair in the far corner by the window, a book open to catch the sunlight.

He stood, startled when she entered, like he wasn’t supposed to be there or thought it improper to remain sitting when a female entered the room, which reminded her of the old romances her mother used to read to her.

A soft, husky laugh accompanied her shaking head. “You can be here.”

Marsh blinked at her and nodded, sitting again, but he pinched the book around his finger to keep his place.

Winter finished her re-read of War and Peace too long ago, so she searched the shelves like she’d done her whole life, waiting for something to reach out and grab her. His attention touched her, obvious along her skin as she perused the titles. Not a constant embrace. He was polite, after all, but she rather enjoyed that he didn’t seem able to help looking at her, even after he re-opened his book.

As beautiful as he was with his high cheekbones and square jaw, smooth skin and perfectly manicured everything—at least everything she could see, he snuck glances at her like she was an exotic creature he might spook.

After twenty minutes of searching, Winter pulled a small, clothbound book off a low shelf and settled herself on her usual couch by the window, facing Marsh.

His gaze danced up to hers, holding for a heartbeat and descending to his book.

She opened the pages to a world of dramatic romance with sweeping, poetic imagery, and she lost herself to the saga. Trauma dashed through the plot and crashed into the characters’ lives. It engulfed her, wrapping her arms around her knees, the book’s spine propped between her feet as the pages flew.

The young hero reminded her of Marsh, or at least, her first impressions of him. A rich young man with a suitable upbringing, in love with a woman who didn’t fit with his society. But she was a sweet and tender thing like him, although poor and innovative. They didn’t end up together. It completely broke Winter’s heart.

A huff brought Marsh’s attention back to her, and behind her eyes burned from the tragic ending. She flashed him the spine. “Have you read it?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Winter crawled from her seat and approached him. His shoulders stiffened and his jaw set. “It’ll devastate you. If you’re into that.”

He took it, fingertips brushing hers. A skittish shift watched her grip’s retreat. “Thank you.”

That tender voice made her restless on top of the doom already hanging over her from the novella. Winter shook her head, leaving to burn some of it off outside. As a wolf. Like she used to.

When she returned, a small bouquet of leaves and small buds surrounded one, large wild flower. They were bound with twine and hung from her door handle. Frilly purple petals paired nicely with the large flat leaves.

Three gifts in one day. A little overwhelming, but nice. Winter didn’t know how to respond.

Bringing them to her bathroom and putting the bundle in a vase, she filled her tub with steaming water and herbs. She missed the near constant sex of the last couple of months. Had gotten too used to it.

Winter relaxed into the heat, her muscles in need of proper care and relaxation.

Naughty images wound through her thoughts as she tried to empty her mind. Men overlapped each other, and she pushed them away, wondering at Marsh. The beautifully crafted diamonds in his ears suggested a profession, or at least which industry it focused on, and she found herself thinking about his fingers.

Would he touch her like some prized gem? As rough and uncut as she was.

Once she broke through that shy barrier, would he fight with her or push her buttons? Would he grab ahold of her like he might perish without her? How much experience did he have?

Something about him made Winter want to press her lips against his wide, shapely mouth and muss his neat hair. She wanted to smudge dirt across his clothes and hear him whimper.

How many women like her did he come across in his life?

She’d wait him out, but once he got brave enough, she’d let him see what real fire felt like.

Smiling at the poem’s possible meanings, Winter added mint oil to the sponge and pictured the variety of outcomes she might discover with Marsh, haunted by the men before him and the torn lovers from the story.

Thirteen Clans. Thirteen Males. One prize.

Winter Jarl is the most notorious female warrior of her species. Her father is chief, and he’s dying, so he’s cashed in on a promise she made long ago: he’s setting her up with an alpha from each of the thirteen clans before she takes over his position.

Sentenced to a year of isolation, she will spend twenty-eight days alone with each man. By the end of it, Winter must choose one to stand beside her. 

The challenge? She must be in love to produce an heir. 
​

Cycle Seven: Worshiping Winter

When a prim and proper alpha replaces his wild predecessor, Winter can’t help but poke and prod, tease and torment Marsh, but he doesn’t seem to know what he wants.

Marsh has been enamored with Winter for forty years, and he can’t believe he gets to spend an entire moon cycle alone with her. Now, he has to learn how to balance his shy demeanor with the primal instincts threatening to swallow him whole.

Jump into this intense paranormal erotica now and see who you want to win Winter’s heart.

A NEW SHORT STORY | TRY TO BE QUICK

Chapter Three

Paul’s anxiety stressed his body, flashing heated distractions through his thoughts until he gave in, detouring to Tyler’s house early in the hopes of catching Molly before she was ready for work.

His presentation jumbled in his head, and his middle-of-the-night workout did little to iron out the nerves that came with preparing for the giant class project. It was a third of his grade, and Paul needed an A to keep his scholarship.

Letting himself in the back door, as usual, he caught Tyler in the laundry room, bent and rifling through the dryer, his back lined with pale red scratches. Jealousy flared sharp and hot. How lucky he was to live here. How lucky he was to have a mom like Molly.

Tyler popped up with a smile, but the same dark circles lined his eyes that Paul found in the mirror that morning. “Hey. You’re here early.”

“Presentation this morning.”

Tyler nodded, the knowing grin read volumes. They’d been sharing Molly for a long, long time–the affection, the fantasies, the ability to make her toes curl. “Exam.”

That’s right, he had that big test today, too. 

“You had the same idea.” Paul gestured to his best friend’s back.

Tyler turned, glancing at the scratches down his back before he slipped on the shirt in his hands. “Yeah. She’s just out of the shower, so you have time to catch her if you’re quick.”

Pulse racing, Paul tried and failed not to grin before he walked into the kitchen. Fresh coffee sizzled on the counter, a tell-tale sign that Molly would follow. She had a strict routine, and he was going to interrupt it.

He hoped he could keep her from being late to work. 

Molly pattered in, arms overhead to clip her hair up, the dark pink and black patterned robe gaping to showcase her pale skin and black lace undies.

Paul’s half hard cock raged to full mast as those beautiful eyes blinked up to meet his.

“Let me guess, a test?” The twist of her lips proved promising.

“Presentation.” Paul closed the distance between them, an arm wrapping around her bare waist under her robe to pull her against him. Her chilly fingers breached the collar of his t-shirt.

“You’re not going to wear this, are you?”

His laughter had his mouth dropping to her throat. “I’m not.”

Molly’s hand slipped up the back of his neck to sink into his hair, so Paul planted a solid line of kisses up her pulse until he turned their faces together and claimed the kiss he really wanted.

Their moans mingled as their bodies pressed together. Paul couldn’t wait, didn’t want to, so he lifted Molly in his arms and planted her on the nearby stool. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he settled between them, rubbing his jean clad hard-on against her thin panties.

“Try to be quick.” Her swollen lips whispered over his. “But not too quick.”

His laugh earned him her million-dollar smile.

Paul unbuttoned his fly, and his cock sprang free, eager to bury himself in Molly’s sweet pussy. Tugging her panties to the side, he dragged himself through her folds and the flood of wetness that showed him just how ready Molly was for another good fucking.

He wished that this was more than merely a fuck, but Paul didn’t have the time to spare with romance this morning. As he shoved himself inside of her, Molly didn’t seem to mind.

Her back arched, presenting him with those swollen, pink nipples barely hidden behind that sheer black fabric.

Capturing one in his mouth, he suckled on her until she cried out and clamped down on him. God, he could spend his entire life balls deep inside of Molly.

Her feet dug low in his back, spreading her thighs wider for him so that the slapping of their skin echoed in the kitchen.

Paul cradled her the best he could as he slammed home, her tight sheath gripping him so hard that he tempted her with every pleasure plaguing him for the last twelve hours. He thought about her, about this, more often than he wanted to admit. More often than anything else.

But a part of him wanted something else, something he couldn’t have yet, something far more intimate than sex and orgasms and sharing her with her son.

He wanted Molly in every sense of the word, but he would wait as long as it took for her to want that with him, too. Age difference be damned. Who gave a shit that she’d had a hand in raising him? This woman could completely undo him without much provocation.

Retreating enough to peer down at her and those hooded green eyes, those parted lips, that heaving chest, he gripped her shaking legs by the knees.

Paul swung his cock into her with long, rough thrusts, and her nails sank into his shoulders through his shirt.

Her toes curled deliciously as she panted. “Paul.”

Tipping his hips a fraction sent flutterings through her core, and he hammered that spot he knew too well would make her come.

And she did, the waves of her pleasure crashing against him.

Paul grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her gently, in complete odds with the way his cock continued to relentlessly plunge into her.

Read the rest of Tyler, Paul, and Molly’s story here.

With stressful projects to manage in the morning, Tyler and Paul seek the same kind of release through Molly.

The lack of sleep and disruption to her routine doesn’t bother Molly as much as she might have thought. A little sex–ha!–make the boys much more attentive and hardworking.

Can the three of them keep this up for much longer, or will their lack of control derail their responsibilities?

Dive into this short, hot erotica story now & get some deals from GET THAT BOOK!

Marking Winter Launches Today

Y’all, my 14-part series is launching book six tomorrow, and it’s time for you to meet Midnight! He is one hell of a character, and I love that.

I’m launching a new book in the series every 28 days in 2022, and the series will be complete on December 31st.

To celebrate cycle six, stay with me because the three chapters of the book is below for you to read!

Also, I’m working on a new project! A kind of series of reboots (or fan fiction) for Winter and the men that don’t get chosen. You know, only one of them gets to win Winter’s heart after all.

Read the First Three Chapters Below!

CHAPTER ONE

Winter reverted to her old t-shirt and jeans, and she had the tequila bottle in hand as the doorbell rang. She left it on the counter to greet alpha number six. He leaned against the door jam, grinning down at her with smug appreciation.

“Hey there, sugar.” Tattoos covered his throat and arms and hands, spreading everywhere but his face, where he had a hoop through the side of his lip. His tongue peeked out to touch it.

“Do not make me murder you.”

He blew her a kiss before the cocky grin resurfaced. “Same room as last time?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“Fair enough.” He shoved out his hand, undeterred. “Name’s Midnight.”

A stocky hand but nimble fingers, and he squeezed strong when she gave hers over. “Yeah, I know. This way.”

Winter led him to the last bedroom on her side of the second floor, the one closest to the rear balcony. When she dangled the key out for him, she silently asked if this had been his room.

His fingers brushed hers when he took them, and he winked. “Just how I remember the digs.”

“Good. Then, you know we don’t keep a maid, so clean up after yourself.”

“Loud and clear, sugar. Don’t worry, I spend most of my time outside.”

That made Winter retreat to her room instead of back downstairs. She left her door open, waiting to see his moves. The tattoos were nice. How many of them did he have? Winter looked forward to seeing them, but she hadn’t imagined that’d be so soon. 

Midnight strolled out of his room, nude, and exited out the back. He was a wolf before she made it to the railing. He howled, inviting her out, but she laughed and shooed him on. 

She could use the time to veg out on the couch. Yet, Winter lingered against the railing, tracing the trees with her gaze. Exploring them again had been fun with Basil, but they usually did that in their human forms.

Midnight’s wolf was refreshing, and dark like his name. He disappeared easily into the trees, unlike Winter who only managed that when snow blanketed the ground.

She retrieved her bottle of tequila and a few dried meat sticks and returned to the rear balcony to miss Basil and Torrent and North while she prepared herself for this new alpha. He’d undressed her the moment she opened the door but didn’t seem so adamant about getting her there.

It was a relief. At least, for now.

Midnight leapt around and chased rabbits.

She wanted jalapeño poppers and potato skins and maybe a little chocolate.

A swig of tequila burned, and she missed the warmth of Basil. They’d been inseparable for the last two weeks, and as much as that made Winter uncomfortable to think of, she’d been so at peace around him—even when he pushed her to confront her traumas. What a crazy twenty-eight days. She truly had changed so much during it.

For her.

Winter laughed at Midnight’s barks and shook her head. This one was going to be interesting. Different.

CHAPTER TWO

The Valley’s magic called to Midnight, greeting him as he ran through the brush of the woods and chased after the animals. He didn’t hunt them but enjoyed making them run and scatter. They showed him little secrets where they hid.

Howling, he wanted Winter to join him, show him around. The scent of wolves wasn’t strong here, other than hers and the alpha here before him. Wafts of the village mixed in the mountains, but mostly, the pine bleed through.

Jarl’s people had such ancient magic that he’d not gotten to play much with, and that just would not do. 

He couldn’t tap into it, so he ran around the hills close to the house, circling to work off the energy from the meet until he sat at the line of the trees and examined Winter on the balcony. A bottle of tequila hung in her hand, and the red of her hair glowed a halo around her. She was certainly beautiful, powerful, raw, and he’d love to taste her, but Midnight didn’t have much experience with winning a female’s heart.

Well, collecting them and crushing them because he couldn’t place his own on the line. Those tactics wouldn’t work with this infamous alpha female. It’s like she saw right through him already.

He barked at her, and she laughed, shaking her head.

Midnight trotted out, shifting back to his human form and catching the glint in her eyes as they plainly followed him. He leapt up beside her on the deck and stole her bottle from her with a wink.

Her eyebrow jumped. “How many tats total?”

A purse of his mouth, the tequila was good, hot but sweet. “Around two-hundred something. Depends on how you count them.”

Her grin got a small flare of his nostrils; pulse quickened when he moved his hips and tightened his muscles, but her gaze stayed trained above his waist. Remarkable control. Winter didn’t even peek.

Her hand extended for the bottle’s return, so he took another swig and gave it back. “When’s dinner?”

“Whenever you make it.”

Chewing on a smile, he lowered his lashes at her, peeling the t-shirt and jeans from her lithe form in a swoop of his gaze. “All right. Microwave’s an old buddy of mine.”

Her nod ended with another long pull from the bottle, and Midnight mulled over the image of her swallowing. Was she teasing him? Nobody mentioned that as one of her qualities.

Winter offered him the bottle this time, and he enjoyed another drink. Too much of it would make him useless, but that might not be so bad. He did tend to think with his dick, and this may be the place for that, but it wasn’t the time.

She ran her tongue over her teeth. “Get dressed. Kitchen’s stocked. No sitting on my furniture with your bare ass.”

“Unless I convince you to join me.”

She snickered. “Good luck.”

Winter sauntered back into the house with the bottle swinging at her hip. 

Oh, she was good.

CHAPTER THREE

Midnight reminded Winter of Thunder but with the experience to back it up. Way more experience than Winter possessed or could handle. And that kept her from being too charmed by Midnight’s brazen show of masculinity.

She left him to put clothes on and wandered through the alcohol reserves and pulled a few more bottles and packs of beer. Rotating the beer kept her from drinking up every bottle that she made with her father. Reyes and Basil had helped her rebuild the stores. Winter planned to lure Midnight down here to help, too, especially if he drank as much as she assumed.

Restocking the door of the freezer, she smiled as Midnight—still shirtless—bent to rotate the trays in the oven. His body packed on muscle, and he knew how to tighten them to attract her gaze. He’d almost caught her on the balcony.

Now, his back flexed, and she wanted to trace the tattoos covering him.

Standing put him close, and he chewed on another grin. Funny how golden boy his good looks were, but he hid under the layers of ink. It intrigued her.

Popping his chest muscles and shoulders, Midnight waggled his brows at her because he’d caught her looking.

“Tell me about that one.” Winter redirected, pointing at the face surrounded in blues under his left collarbone.

“Mmm. I got that after my first night on guard. I saw this face when the sky broke open and warned me before a gorgon descended on us. We defeated it because of the extra few seconds.” Midnight traced the halo with genuine admiration.

He came from the Gulf and the Solfrid clan, the most regularly invaded spot on their piece of land.

“How long have you been a knight?”

He shrugged a single shoulder and mentally undressed Winter again, nostrils flaring. “Born that way, but officially at fifteen.”

“That’s young.”

“Yeah, well…” Midnight tipped his head back and forth. “Best option to get out of my house.”

“I understand the temptation.” After all, she’d run into war to do the same thing.

“I’m sure you do, sugar.”

Anger settled in her chest. Men and these sweet little pet names they gave her. “What, am I just a little sweetness to place on your tongue?”

The dance of his features said he liked the image she put in his head. “Can’t say I haven’t thought about it. You’re smoking.”

“So I am told.”

The oven timer beeped, and Midnight paused to maintain eye contact, a promise of skill accentuated with a wink. He pulled the food out and jostled it around.

Winter shook her head and grabbed a sweet biscuit from the cupboard, but he piled the platters she usually filled and laid them out on the coffee table, gesturing for her to come join him.

Did he not plan on eating all of that? Winter could, easily.

Two bottles of beer and one of tequila came with her.

He sat in the middle, obviously avoiding her spot, and she approved. Confident but not dominating. “Dinner is served.”

“I’m guessing you don’t know how to make eggs.”

Midnight laughed. “No. I don’t.”

Winter nodded and sat, crunching on a jalapeño popper—the creamy and salty and spicy and crunchy made it the ultimate snack. Knee up against her chest, she picked at the food and dropped them into a new season of Vikings. Basil hadn’t been a fan, preferring comedies and romances to the mock battle scenes.

“Need a backstory?”

“Nah, sugar. I’ve seen it.”

“Don’t spoil it, then.”

Thirteen Clans. Thirteen Males. One prize.

Winter Jarl is the most notorious female warrior of her species. Her father is chief, and he’s dying, so he’s cashed in on a promise she made long ago: he’s setting her up with an alpha from each of the thirteen clans before she takes over his position.

Sentenced to a year of isolation, she will spend twenty-eight days alone with each man. By the end of it, Winter must choose one to stand beside her. 

The challenge? She must be in love to produce an heir. 
​

Cycle Six: Marking Winter

Better prepared for the next alpha invading her life, Winter enjoys the playful wolf and how much like a pup he makes her feel, even if she’s simply another story for Midnight to tell.
​
A self-proclaimed lady’s man, Midnight doesn’t have the drive to mate the chief, but he sure will enjoy Winter in the meantime. Better yet, he prides himself on leaving her with a lasting mark.

Jump into this intense paranormal erotica now and see who you want to win Winter’s heart.

A NEW SHORT STORY | TAKING HIS TURN

Chapter One

I came home early from class, finding my mom lounged across the couch in her shorts and tee. 

She blinked sleepy eyes at me but smiled. “I thought class went until nine.”

“We had lab. Got to go when we were done.”

“I’m glad to have you home, baby. Take out is in the oven. Use a plate.”

I laughed and leaned down to kiss her forehead, getting a nice view down the v-neck. She was not wearing a bra, like usual. Mom had small, perky tits that didn’t need one, except to be decent. I loved that she didn’t feel the need to wear one at home.

I’d spanked it a few times to those, wanting them in my mouth and smashed around my cock.

“I’m going to shower first. Long day.” I gave her another kiss on the cheek, and she stroked mine.

“You need some rest, baby.”

“I’ll be sure to get some tonight.”

Mom nodded, and I retreated to my room to clean up, cock hard and throbbing as my mind swirled with the million daydreams I’d had of taking her over the years.

Then, Paul had to tell me he’d gotten a taste of her, how he fucked her sensless. For hours.

I grabbed my pulsing shaft as I undressed. The jealousy and heat that tore through me at the memory was nothing compared to the night he told me about it.

My shower was hot, and my hard-on championed through it. I couldn’t help but think of ways to sneak downstairs and fuck my mom. By the time I was done, I tucked it in my waistband and made my way to the kitchen with light steps.

Creeping behind the couch, I found my mom sleeping, those shorts high on her thighs to reveal no underwear lines.

Fuck. My hand slid along the inside of her thigh before I could think about it, and my fingers pushed against the fabric over her core to test my theory. The way her lips splayed open confirmed it for me.

Her soft moan muffled against the couch cushion as she rolled a little.

I pushed harder, rubbing her in gentle strokes.

Mom’s hips lifted, and I couldn’t stop.

Crawling over the back, I wedged myself between it and her and rolled her into me. She moaned again, wriggling her ass into my hard-on.

I unleashed it, letting my head sneak between her thighs. Hips moved on their own, and I was so close to having what I’ve wanted for years that I forget how wrong it was. I whispered her name across her neck. “Molly.”

Her whimper arched her back, and it broke me. I tugged her shorts to the side and pushed my head between her folds. God, she was wet, coating me better than my precum could, and I sank into her slowly.

Gripping her shoulders, I kept her back to me, ducking my face against her neck. She smelled of her sweet coconut soap.

I pulled back and pushed into her again, deeper, opening her up. After a few thrusts, I was buried to the hilt, grinding us together.

“Paul?” Mom’s voice was groggy but packed with pleasure and need.

I kissed the side of her neck and started pumping my hips. Slow at first, I enjoyed the way she squeezed me tight.

“Tyler’s home. What if he comes down?”

Grinning, I nibbled her ear and reached my hand under her tee to grab ahold of her breast. Lifting her knee in a hand, I picked up my pace, tightening her around me just a little more.

“Be quick.”

How accommodating she was to my best friend. What would she have done if I came down and caught them? Would she let me do just this and slide behind her to share?

I strengthened my grip and squeezed her until her nipple pebbled between my fingers. I wanted to make her come before he arrived to ensure she wouldn’t be mad at my fooling her. Paul had given me enough details to imitate him. And we’d always talked about fucking her together.

He’d be here after his class at nine. It gave me a little while to stretch this out.

Mom’s head fell to the side, lip between her teeth as she suppressed her moans.

Her body jerked and shook as I ran my middle finger over her nipple. I followed the bucking of her hips, fucking her hard until she broke apart in my arms.

I slowed and savored her for another few beats before I rolled her on her stomach, yanked down her shorts, and shoved myself back inside her. 

Mom was smart enough to cry into the cushion, taking my unforgiving pace like a champ.

Leaning over, I took her wrists in one hand and grabbed a handful of her hair to arch her back a few inches.

She choked on her groans, and I wanted her to know it was me doing it to her, even though I feared her reaction when she found out. I doubled down, focusing on making her come. The more pleasure I could pump into her, the better chances I had of making it all the way through this.

And I wanted her mouth and her ass.

Releasing her hair, I reached down to spread her cheeks and rub that puckered hole. Mom shifted under me, so I worked her arms behind her back and yanked her shirt up over her head to tie them there.

I went back to stroking her ass as she squirmed. My touch remained firm, but I didn’t push inside, building her up again before I tested anything like that. I would take her there before Paul did. 

Apparently, my mom liked a little rough handling because she was strangling my cock with that sweet pussy again. I liked a woman with an eager cunt.

Fuck, she was greedy.

Chapter Two

Molly had forgotten what it was like to wake up to overwhelming pleasure and a looming orgasm. Her third had her moved, twisted, and held in place. 

Lifted and tossed around, she leaned back on top of Paul’s slick chest as he sought her next climax. His hand smoothed over her stomach and hip to cup and stroke her mound. The TV flashed bright in the darkening room, and that arm was paler than it’d been last time.

“Paul?” Molly gasped, stiffening from shock and pleasure.

“If I’d known you were so needy, Mom, I would have helped you out a long time ago.”

“Tyler?” A note of panic warped her voice, and Molly felt stuck.

What was happening? First her surrogate son and now her actual son.

“Paul told me about the other night. And I got jealous.” He pressed on her clit, his thrusts no less punctuated against the pleasure he’d already brought her. “I want to make you feel good.”

Molly wriggled under her son’s attention, over his cock. Oh god, it was thick and so hard as it filled her up.

Tyler’s mouth formed kisses up her throat, behind her ear. “Do I make you feel good, Mom?”

His left hand seemed so large over her breast as he squeezed. Her arms remained trapped between them, tangled in her t-shirt. She could pretend she had no choice right now, but the orgasm looming so closely was what made her hesitate.

As long as she didn’t say anything, she could ride this out, enjoy herself without feeling so guilty.

“I’ve made you come three times already.” He rubbed her clit more vigorously. “I want number four.”

His hips picked up speed, too, and Molly was a goner.

“I want to outdo him. Twelve, was it? Mom.”

Increased pleasure and pressure yanked a moan out of her. 

Tyler groaned in her ear and flicked her nipple with his thumb. It spiked every pang of his head against her cervix, every stroke of his cock baring her down on him.

“Mmm, yeah. Come for me. Give me what I want. Just like you have my whole life.”

Molly pulsed, so close to that edge that she had no way of reeling herself back. 

“There you are. God, I want to come inside of you so fucking bad, Mom. I want to fill you up.” He practically growled his confession against her skin.

It broke her, trapping her in ecstasy for long, long seconds.

Tyler drew it out, slamming himself through her aftershocks and locking his arms around her as her back bowed.

“Did the thought of that make you come? Don’t worry, I won’t. Not until you’re on birth control, although I hear Paul didn’t have an issue with that.”

Molly whimpered, relieved that she wouldn’t have to worry about it.

“But there are other places for me to come in you. Your choice. Your ass or your mouth.”

Jerking from the sensitivity and lack of restraint from her son, Molly wasn’t sure why she liked the dirty mouth Tyler seemed to possess. When Paul took her, it was romantic, but this…this was pure hedonism, physical desire perverted from their family dynamic.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been so open, so accommodating, so relaxed around the boys.

But that burn rebuilding in her middle made it hard to think of those things, to think of anything other than the prolonged pleasure she was in for tonight.

Remembering how limber and happy she’d been at work after the marathon with Paul had her own fantasies rapidly forming for the kind of ease that came with being fucked until she literally couldn’t handle any more and dropped into sleep.

They had a long way to go yet.

Molly was thankful her son had played in sports because his stamina and speed had her hips moving to seek a new climax, eventually it would be a long and drawn out plane of pleasure.

Tyler laughed softly under her, breathing heavier than before. “Yeah, give me another before I come in you. You have until then to make your choice, or I’ll make it for you.”

It wouldn’t take her long, but she couldn’t decide. Molly hadn’t had either claimed by a cock in a long, long time.

He’d pushed against her ass, promising pain but causing pleasure.

She wasn’t ready for it by the time her legs started shaking. Tyler swore against her skin. So many filthy habits her boy possessed.

Like he currently possessed her.

“Oh yeah, Molly. Oh yeah. There you go. Fucking break over my cock.”

The moan drawing from her lungs deepened, her knees spread and everything coiled tight in her center.

Tyler grabbed her by the throat, a light squeeze stiffened everything inside of her, and his unforgiving cock rammed against every rigid dip and curve inside of her. It tossed her over the edge of that cliff, leaving her writhing in her son’s grip.

Dirty whispers echoed in her ears as his voice turned deadly.

With a final grunt, Tyler lifted her again. “I need to come in you. Choose.”

Gasping for breaths, she finally got a glimpse of the dark determination in her son’s blue eyes.

“Mouth,” she said, the word barely registering to her own ears.

Tyler set her on the couch, sitting beside her and wiping himself clean with his t-shirt. With a hand in her hair, he drew her down to his long, hard cock. His other hand smoothed along her back and hips and he grabbed her ass with a firm squeeze.

Molly wrapped hers around his shaft, a fist that would allow her to gauge how deep she took him. When her mouth enveloped his head, her son moaned low and guttural. The vein along the underside pulsed, and she knew it wouldn’t take much to get him off.

That was rather the point, wasn’t it?

His fingers brushed through her folds, teasing her. Testing her.

The angle he’d positioned her in made more sense when he thrust those digits inside of her.

“Come on, Mom. Suck it like you mean it. I know you’ve got it in you. I’ve seen you do it too many times for you to convince me otherwise.”

The handful of men she’d dated never made it back to her home, but one, Miles, would lounge with her on the couch after she put the boys to bed on the weekends. She hadn’t known her son and his best friend could see her with him.

Molly sucked and stroked and earned her son’s deep moans.

His fingers curled and rubbed her, eliciting more pleasure out of her until her core and mouth clamped down in unison.

Read the rest of Tyler and Molly’s story here.

When Tyler hears about his best friend seducing Molly and spending hours using her body, his jealousy gets the better of him.

Tyler can’t resist taking his turn, sneaking behind her on the couch and pretending to be Paul. How easily Molly gives him what he wants.

Finally, he gets to share her with his best friend, as they’ve fantasized about since puberty.

Dive into this short, hot erotica story now & get some deals from GET THAT BOOK!