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Sex on Summer Sabbatical
Who knew it would be so hard to get a twenty-something man to have sex?
Forced by her employer to take a three month sabbatical, workaholic Tori Warren makes a checklist of things to accomplish that will make the time off worthwhile.
Get into the best shape of her life. Have the most fun of her life. Oh, and have the best sex of her life with a no-strings holiday affair.
Sexy young Adam Cross comes into her life at just the right time. A physical trainer with a loving-life personality, he should work nicely in helping her meet all three goals. He'd be especially perfect for the best sex. Now if he would only just cooperate…
Adam learns of her calculating plans involving him soon after beginning to date Tori. But by then he's realised he wants much more than to be the means to an end for her. If he can only hold out until the end of the summer, maybe he'll have time to convince her that the best sex comes with strings…
Falling For the Other Brother
Erica had been planning to break it off with Trevor—he was really too young for her, after all. But it's hard to use that excuse when the man she's really interested in is Trevor's twin, Colin.
Her biological clock ticking, a chance conversation leads Erica to Trevor, a former sperm donor, who helps convince her to move ahead with her plans. But he adamantly refuses to be her donor, in fact he's pulled all his past donations, for a reason he won't discuss. Their subsequent relationship, while hot, just drives home the different goals the two have.
When Colin returns from overseas, his problem with intimacy still looming large, he never dreamt he would meet his ideal partner in Erica. Only two things stand in their way—her relationship with his brother, and the fact she wants children…the one thing he can no longer provide.
General Release Date: 17th January 2014
Excerpt from Sex on Summer Sabbatical
"Ohhh."
Tori couldn’t stifle a moan as the almost-pain of exerting muscles that seldom got used kicked in. It’d been a long time. Too long.
Panting slightly, she enjoyed the stretch as perspiration beaded across her glowing skin. She strained towards the pleasure she felt hovering just beyond reach.
Almost there. Almost there…
C’mon, endorphins.
Oh no. Side stitch.
And a cramp.
Shit.
Tori limped to an abrupt halt, pressing her hands to the sharp ache in her lower abdomen while scoping out a relatively clean spot on the kerb to collapse on. Using one hand to frantically massage her spasming calf, Tori had to use some of her very limited breath to laugh out loud at her dilemma as the humour of the situation struck her. So much for a brilliant start on her goals.
"I was going to offer you some help, but it sounds like you’re doing okay now."
The deep voice must belong to the person wearing the running shoes in front of her, but for the life of her, Tori couldn’t look up just then, concentrating on her inexpert massage while trying to breathe through the pain in her side.
"Oh, no. Not okay. But I had a feeling this would happen. It was going too well, know what I mean? First time I’ve run in years."
A warm, sympathetic chuckle. "Well, you were looking good, right up until you seized up."
"I’ll bet that was pretty comical to watch. Ah, ah!" The cramp in her leg spiked painfully in spite of her efforts. Why the hell had she thought she could start exercising again? All at once she felt every year of her age. Oh to be a teen again, when she could run without any effort at all.
"Here, you have to flex it. No, don’t point!" Strong hands forced her foot back towards her body as her rescuer knelt before her like Cinderella’s prince. "Deep breaths, really deep. Fill your belly. That’ll help your stitch."
"How’d you know I had a stitch in my side?" Tori panted, curled up in as close to a ball as she could get with one leg stuck out in front of her.
"I could tell by the way you suddenly grabbed your stomach like you’d been shot. Now don’t pant, breathe deep." The steady voice was soothing, but demanded compliance.
Abandoning the short blows vaguely reminiscent of those she’d seen in movie birthing rooms, Tori obeyed, inhaling until she felt dizzy then letting the air whoosh out. Those hands had displaced hers on her calf, and she felt a moment of panic trying to remember whether she’d shaved her legs that morning. She winced at the thought of stubbly legs then realised that her side stitch was almost gone and the cramp was easing.
"Does that hurt?"
"No, feels good." A little too good. The man had great hands, and Tori was starting to get some ideas about other kind of exertion he could help her with.
"You winced."
Great hands and observant. Tori started to uncurl herself bit by bit, ready to coil back up at the first sign of pain.
"That’s it, hon. Here, stretch your other leg out for me." He slid his hand along the back of her uninjured leg, encouraging her to ease it out straight, making her think again about the shaving bit. Yes, she realised with relief—she must be freshly shaved, else she wouldn’t have worn shorts. She knew herself that well at least.
Once in a regular sitting position, she finally got a look at her Good Samaritan, and almost felt herself seize up again.
Guh.
Tori was in the presence of perfection. It was as if all the women in the world had got together and held a summit to design the most gorgeous man possible, then gave him great hands and sent him out to rescue damsels in distress.
Warm hazel eyes set off by irritatingly long lashes smiled encouragingly at her, so close that every blink looked as if it was in slow motion. Ruggedly handsome features, smooth skin, luscious lips—and that was just his face. His short dark hair had a hint of wave to it, settling perfectly in place even while exercising.
He had to be a model. Or he should be. Him on anything would equal sales through the roof.
His muscular arms were revealed by a sleeveless grey T- shirt, which was rather restrained of him—most of the similarly buffed young guys who had passed her running today went shirtless altogether. It was loose enough that Tori couldn’t get an idea of his torso, but she just knew he’d be ripped. Wouldn’t match the rest of him otherwise, and that would be a shame. His running shorts were also on the conservative side compared to what she’d seen, but the legs kneeling between hers were…
Between hers?
Oh mercy. She had a man between her legs. Did that count?
Nope, gotta be full-on sex to cross it off the list.
Her gaze snapped back up to his, and his helpfully concerned expression hadn’t changed, precisely. But there was a hint of awareness there now that made Tori wish she was ten years younger. Or maybe fifteen.
Because if he was closer to thirty than twenty, she’d eat her running shoes.
He introduced himself, "I’m Adam."
I’m Eve, wanna bite my apple?
Excerpt from Falling For the Other Brother
A cool waft of air on her shower-warm skin was the only warning Erica received before large hands cupped her bare shoulders. Once she got over her initial surprise, a smile curved her lips. The familiar touch meant that Trevor’s last-minute flight home must have been on time. She was pulled back flush against a hard male body.
Or maybe she should say, a hardening male body.
She gave a little wiggle, bringing their bodies in closer alignment as her favourite rain-shower setting softly pelted them from above, with two slightly more forceful jets massaging from each side.
A muscular and extremely tanned arm reached past her to pluck the hand-held shower head from its holder.
“Picked up a little sun?” she joked. “I see you’ve been working hard.”
Trevor’s deep responding chuckle reverberated in her ear. “I always make time for play. In the Caribbean especially. And the shoot was on the beach.”
As a popular and successful fitness model, Trevor did a lot of cover shoots and spreads for various magazines, as well as demonstrations for equipment. It was one of these demo jobs, evidently staged on a tropical beach, that he had just returned from.
“That must’ve been brutal.” Erica gave a shudder, partly from the thought of the unrelenting sun and partly because, as she watched, Trevor was skimming his hand along her abdomen up to cup her breast. The contrast of her pale skin with his sun-darkened fingers was startling and extremely erotic, and the deliberately light, teasing touch sent a shiver through her.
She felt his shrug. He never complained about the less romantic aspects of his job, but was just happy to be doing what he did. No false modesty or dissembling, he enjoyed using his fit body to make a living.
“It was fine. Not as hot as you might think, just sunny.”
Erica turned within his embrace and gave him a lingering welcome-back kiss. She was torn—glad to see him home early but dreading the conversation she had finally psyched herself up to initiate.
But not yet. Like Scarlett, she’d think about that tomorrow.
Firmly turning her mind from anything remotely cerebral, she instead lost herself in the hedonistic sensation of turning her pleasure over to the sexiest man she’d ever known. She knew the moment he sensed her acquiescence. The hands cruising over her slick back slid purposefully down to cup her buttocks. A satisfied hum in his throat was barely audible but somehow captured her focus.
Wanting to cause that sound again, she mirrored the movement of his hands. She could barely make a dent in his muscular ass, even when she gave a hard squeeze. Squeaking as he playfully returned the favour, the teasing evolved into a wet, sensuous game of follow-the-leader that soon had her panting with desire.
Erica was jarred from her reverie as Trevor abruptly ended the exploration and guided her to sit upon the ledge at the back of the walk-in shower. She jolted as her heated body touched the cool tile.
“Wha—”
“Shh. You’ll see,” Trevor cautioned, smirking as he adjusting the setting on the hand-held shower head from rain to a pulsing jet.
Oh my God. Erica moaned as he directed the spray across her sensitive peaks, twisting as he unrelentingly followed her movements with the almost torturous attention. She breathed a sigh of relief as he moved on, leaving her nipples aching in his wake, and continued upwards to her neck.
This time, her groan was one of utter bliss as she dropped her head forward to accommodate the impromptu massage. “Trev, that’s perfect.”
“Mmm,” he agreed, using the stream to methodically tenderize her chronically tense shoulders into something resembling melty goo.
Just when she’d almost forgotten the sexual tension, he ratcheted it back up by trailing the jet swiftly down her body, glancing across the full slope of her breasts in an almost offhand manner.
He reached down with his free hand to encourage her partially separated thighs farther apart.
Her head snapped up. “Trev…”
“Close your eyes.”
She reluctantly obeyed, also allowing her legs to part wantonly as the firm touch of the spray—feeling much like a questing finger—worked its way lower still. Target reached, the pulse hit squarely on her clit, almost sending her flying off the seat. Trevor moved the water back and forth, strumming across her rapidly engorging nub in a random pattern that left her gasping for air.
“Eyes closed.”
She hadn’t realised she’d opened them, hadn’t been able to focus on anything, but willingly followed the directive without delay as the tension coiling within her zoomed past anything bearable.
Tipping over the edge in a supernova of pleasure, she arched and writhed, coming as hard as she could ever remember as colours flew behind her lids. This time, when she squirmed away from the spray, it immediately turned to a gentle, caressing shower.
She sensed Trevor replacing the showerhead then gave herself over to his strength as he gathered her still uncoordinated form to his, his erection pressing unabated against her hip. The water ceased and she finally opened her eyes to meet his heated chocolate gaze.
“Wow,” she breathed, still trying to get her heart rate under control. The exhalation ended on a slight laugh. “I’m so glad I gave you a key.”
“Oh, you can still talk?” he parried. “I must not’ve done my job.” He walked her around the corner of the open shower onto the soft bathmat and grabbed a couple of towels. After drying himself in his normal slap-dash manner, he took his time drying her off, then swept her off her feet and carried her into the bedroom.
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