Thanks so much for posting another excerpt for me,
Nikki! It’s been a lot of fun! Berkley
gave me back the rights to the two stories I published in the anthology Twin
Peaks. They never put this anthology out in ebook, so finally, I’m
going to do that for readers. The first story is Double the Pleasure, to
be released at the beginning of May, and the second is Skin Deep, coming out at
the beginning of June. Here’s a little taste! Be sure to leave a comment and
your email address to be entered in the drawing for a pdf copy of Revenge
Sex.
Double the Pleasure
Prescott Twins, Book 1
One night, one chance, but will she have the courage...
Hitting the big 3-0 birthday like
a brick wall, shy, reserved Kristin Prescott just has to break out of her
sensible shoes and buttoned-up blouses and find herself a man. And the only one
who will do is Ross Sloan, her sexy boss. The problem is, she isn't Ross's
type; he prefers sensual, seductive women like her identical twin. But, Kristin
isn't sure she can let go of her inhibitions.
Unless she pretends to be her
sister.
Ross Sloan has lusted after his
secretary, Kristin Prescott, since the moment she walked into his office. When
she seduces him while playing the role of her twin sister, he sees through her
masquerade immediately. But Ross wants both sides of Kristin: the prim,
efficient woman who runs his office and the passionate woman she exposes in the
guise of her sister. Forcing Kristin to release her inhibitions and claiming
the desirable woman beneath the facade becomes his ambition.
But will the pleasure cost them their business relationship?
Or can they have both?
Excerpt
Chapter One
“I think, for your thirtieth
birthday, you should seduce a man.”
Kristin Prescott blushed and
said a little thank-you prayer that the only other occupant of the steam room
had vacated moments before Kirby’s declaration.
Kristin tried to sound flip.
“It’s your birthday, too. You do the seducing.”
“My darling sister, I have a
vibrator, I don’t need a man. You, on the other hand—”
“I don’t need a vibrator or a
man.” Okay, so maybe she needed both, the man definitely more than the
vibrator. Sweat dripped off Kristin’s nose, steam pumped from the valve, and
the overpowering scent of eucalyptus made it hard to breathe.
Kirby went on relentlessly.
“You’ve got to repair your self-esteem.”
“My self-esteem?” A nasty
telltale squeak laced her voice.
“Kristin, you’re sadly lacking
in the confidence department.”
“I’ve got plenty of confidence.”
Not.
“Sure, in your job you do. But
get you around a pack of hot-looking guys, and you let yourself fade into the
wallpaper.”
Kristin rubbed perspiration from
her forehead. “You’ve got me there. I can’t deny it.”
“That’s why you haven’t been on
a date since Blake...left.”
“You can say he dumped me.” Her
fiancé had given her the heave-ho over six months ago. It wasn’t that Kristin
wasn’t over him, she was, it was just... “I haven’t found anyone interesting.”
Except Ross Sloan. Her boss. All
he noticed about her, though, were her flawless memos and intricate
spreadsheets. She didn’t think he even knew her first name.
Kirby snorted, but didn’t
comment on Kristin’s little evasion. “Did I ever tell you what an asshole your
ex-fiancé was?” The sisters thought differently about sex, career, marriage, everything,
but Kirby was loyal.
“And I love you for saying
that.”
Still, Blake’s final crack had
slipped beneath Kristin’s skin like a nasty sliver.
Why can’t you be hot and sexy like your twin sister?
The answer was right beside her.
Kirby, naked, stretched out on her stomach, her towel draped over the tile
beneath her; Kristin, primly seated on the step above, her own towel wrapped
tightly, covering her from armpits to thighs. They were identical twins, but in
looks alone; their manners and personalities were completely opposite.
With his last words to her,
Blake hit Kristin smack dab in the middle of her biggest insecurity—she didn’t
have what it took to be anything like Kirby, except on the outside. She wasn’t
sexy. She wasn’t hot. But she didn’t dislike sex the way Blake had accused. In
fact she’d imagined...yes, she could say the words in her head, she’d thought
of going down on Mr. Sloan. In his office.
“Well, forget the little
bastard.”
She didn’t think her boss would
turn out to be little in any sense of
the word. Oh! Kirby was still talking about Blake.
“He was too short for you
anyway. And balding. You were way too good for him.” Image was all-important to
Kirby. “You’ve just let that whole business beat you down.
“He didn’t beat me down,” Kristin
protested.
He’d merely caught on to
something she’d known since her first time during college, that she wasn’t good
at sex. She hadn’t given him complete satisfaction. She certainly hadn’t found
it for herself. Still, in her fantasies, Kristin was like her sister. She did
all sorts of toe-tingling sexual things. With her boss. Those thoughts actually
made her hot, and she didn’t have any trouble melting into orgasm.
Kirby studied her. “Have it your
way. Blake didn’t beat you down. But did he ever make you climax? Even once?”
“Kirby.” There’d been a few, but
none particularly memorable.
Nothing like the remarkably
memorable ones she’d had while fantasizing about Mr. Sloan, no vibrator
necessary.
“Kristin,” her sister mimicked
her tone. “Which means he didn’t, right?”
She and Kirby had never really
discussed her sexual relationship with Blake. Kirby would have had all sorts of
great advice, the first being that the lack of sparks under the covers wasn’t
all Kristin’s fault, and Kirby would have been right. Kristin knew that
intellectually, but get her heart to believe it? Not an easy accomplishment.
Especially when her insecurity problems started with comparing herself to her
sexy, hot, over-the-top, confident sister in the first place.
“Could we please talk about
something else?”
Kirby spread her hands. “You
know what they say. When a horse dumps you, you have to get right back in the
saddle and ride again. You need to start dating.”
The old adage that time healed
all wounds—as bad a cliché as Kirby’s—was also completely wrong. The longer
Kristin waited to hop back into the dating arena, the worse the fear of failing
once again.
When Kristin didn’t comment,
Kirby rolled onto her back and crossed her legs at the ankles, not indicating
an ounce of embarrassment with her nudity.
“Kristin, we’ve got to break out
of the rut we’re in.”
Thank God for the change of
topic. “We? What is it you want to change?”
“My wardrobe.”
“Your wardrobe?” Kristin echoed,
suddenly confused.
“Yes. I’m going to throw out
that little red dress. You know, the one you salivated over at Neiman Marcus
last New Year’s.”
“I didn’t salivate.” Kristin
had.
“You said it cost too much”—it
certainly did—“but you know you just thought it was too sexy for you. Which is
ridiculous.”
“If I’d worn it, I’d have looked
ridiculous. It was too red, too glitzy, too...not me.” Still, she’d adored the
sequined bodice and the full, flirty skirt.
She’d wanted that dress badly;
only she hadn’t bought it because she’d been comparing herself unfavorably to
Kirby. Again.
“You can have it if you want it.
Otherwise, I’m sending it to the consignment store.” That was a lie. Kirby was using reverse psychology. “But if you
take it, you have to wear it to our birthday party Friday night.”
Ah, the punchline. It was really
Kirby’s birthday party, she was throwing it herself. But she’d added Kristin’s
name to the invitation. Kristin had chosen the half-day celebration she and
Kirby were having right now: a morning off work, a lovely brunch, a good facial,
a steam bath. And no need for a stunning red dress.
“I couldn’t wear it.” Could she?
Kristin took a deep breath of eucalyptus. If push came to shove, maybe. She needed a push. And a shove.
“There’s going to be tons of
gorgeous men there.” Kirby glanced at her. “You can practice your seduction
techniques.”
“I don’t have any techniques.”
She could, however, use the
stuff of her fantasies. If she found a man who reminded her of Mr. Sloan.
Kirby grimaced. “You’ll learn
quickly enough. If you’ve got any balls when it comes to men, that is.”
Kristin would have laughed if
Kirby’s words hadn’t been so on target. “I have tons of...cajones.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire. She was turning thirty, and she didn’t
even have the courage to put on a sexy dress. Pitiful.
“Chicken,” Kirby couldn’t seem
to resist adding.
How long could she go on being
afraid of a little red dress? A year? Ten years? Fifty years, living with
nothing but fantasies, her body aging, gravity taking over, biological clock in
overdrive? Oh. No. The thought was more debilitating than the idea of seducing
a room full of Kirby’s gorgeous men. She wouldn’t be merely an old maid, she’d
be a shriveled husk. God forbid.
Could she get back on the horse?
Actually, the question was more about what her life would become if she didn’t?
“All right, I’ll wear the
dress.” She’d find the cajones
somewhere. “And I want to borrow the shoes that go with it, too.”
Maybe someday she’d even have
the courage to wear something equally provocative to work to see if Ross Sloan
finally noticed her. Maybe, just maybe, his eyes would pop out and he’d ask
what her first name was.
