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In print part of the Naughty Nuptials anthology
What do you get when you mix together a man who was about to make a big mistake in marriage, a woman who would do anything to convince him of it, and a bag of bachelor party sex toys? One night of steamy, phenomenal sex of course.
But what about tomorrow?
Libby Taylor couldn’t let John Wolfe get married—not without ever having kissed his lips just once, smelled the scent on his neck, seen the expression on his face when he came. She’d fallen in love with the sexy reporter through the unlikely mediums of the computer and his father’s stories. Now, on the eve of his wedding, Libby was determined to have him for just one night before he became a married man.John was having doubts about going through with his wedding but that didn’t explain the high-voltage blast of pure lust that hit him when he walked into his bedroom and saw a red-headed woman standing there wearing nothing but a pink bow and stiletto heels. She told him that she’d been sent by his friends for one night of wild sex.
And John found that he didn’t have either the interest or the will to turn down such an inspired gift.
Read an Excerpt
For a full ten seconds, they just stared at each other, both of them speechless.
“Hi,” Libby eventually said throatily.
She mentally rolled her eyes but quickly forgave herself for not giving a wittier greeting. Who could be glib standing in the face of all that glistening muscle and tumescent male flesh? She’d known John Wolfe would be a beautiful, sexy male animal, but this was…
She shook her head slightly to clear it as her gaze drifted from the golden skin covering a flat, ridged abdomen to his crotch. His cock looked full, aroused, and unbelievably potent where it sprang from a thatch of light brown hair.
Her mouth went dry. Perhaps her body required every last bit of moisture from the periphery in order to adequately respond to the phenomenal surge of lust that flooded her sex.
That had been when she had croaked out her clever greeting.
She watched as his spiky, wet lashes narrowed over his green eyes, as though he was trying to bring a hallucination into clearer focus. To see those striking eyes up close in reality instead of on a computer screen felt surreal to Libby.
“Hi,” he finally replied. “Who are you? And what are you doing in my loft?”
Libby cleared her throat, more affected by the sound of his deep, resonant voice than she’d prepared herself to be.
“I’m Olivia,” she replied.
Nathan, Cedric, Malcolm and her had all agreed that John had heard the reference to “Libby” on too many occasions in the past, so she resorted to her given name. She bit at her lower lip nervously before she forced herself to plunge, once and for all, into the abyss.
“Cedric and Malcolm sent me as a gift.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the way his eyes popped when she spun around for him slowly, giving him the full benefit of Malcolm’s genius.
“I’m yours for the night, John,” she said when she finally faced him again.
John was still in the process of questioning his sanity and searching for something rational to say—difficult to do when his brain was inundated by animal lust—when she smiled. His heart thudded madly in his chest. He’d already been far too affected by the site of the lovely, luscious, near-naked auburn-haired woman that stood in his bedroom wearing nothing but a bow and stockings, but the sound of her low, husky voice and the sight of her full lips curving into a smile that was both shy and the essence of pure sex at once made some kind of powerful chemical reaction to cascade from his brain to his blood and straight to his crotch. Against his will his gaze dropped to where two of the prettiest, most pert nipples that he’d ever seen in his life peaked out flirtatiously at him between the ribbons.
Till his dying day, he would swear that they were the precise nipples that he’d just been fantasizing about not two minutes ago in the shower. Well, not exactly the same. Olivia’s nipples were even more perfect because they pebbled and darkened in color not just from his lightest touch but apparently just from the stimulus of his gaze alone.
“That’s a very…sweet gift on Malcolm and Ced’s part,” John muttered huskily, unable to remove his eyes from the delectable vision of the rosy crowns of her small, firm breasts, “but I’m afraid I’m going to have to refuse your offer, Olivia.
“I’m not a hooker or anything, John,” Libby said impulsively.
His eyes darted up to her face. Libby swallowed heavily at the impact of being the focus of his intelligent, penetrating gaze. She felt her knees weaken. God, was Estelle’s last thought before falling asleep every night and her first upon awakening in the morning that she was the luckiest woman on the planet?
“If you’re not a prostitute, why would you agree with Malcolm and Ced to come and have sex with me for one night only?” John challenged.
For a panicked second, she floundered.
“I saw you once in the distance at one of Ced’s parties. I thought you were very sexy. When I heard Ced and Malcolm talking about sending you a prostitute on the night of your bachelor party I volunteered to…pleasure you instead,” Libby explained in a rush of partial honesty and complete embarrassment.
She wasn’t in the habit of actually saying things like that, for God’s sake!