As promised I am back with Jasmine Haynes as she visits for this whole month of April. Here is her promised excerpt of Revenge Sex! Please make sure to comment and show her some love. The contest for the PDF of Revenge Sex is still going on till April 15th! So leave your email address with your comment as that will be how you will get the PDF if you win!
Fair warning it is explicit...
Now on to the story excerpt-
Revenge
Sex
West Coast Series,
Book 1
A brand new series
about sexy hotwives and the men who love them
A man, the hotwife he can’t control...and the woman who
wants to fix what’s wrong with him.
Tough, autocratic CFO Clay Blackwell strikes both fear and
loyalty into the hearts of his employees. But he’s got one quirk no one at West
Coast Manufacturing knows; he loves the idea of his live-in girlfriend Ruby
being with another man...then coming home to him for the best sex of his life
as she describes every naughty detail. He’s only got three stipulations: no sex
with anyone from work, no sex with another man in their own home, and she
always has to tell him when she has a date. The problem? What to do with a
“hotwife” who has all the freedom any woman could want, but still can’t follow
three simple rules.
Jessica Murphy has the utmost respect and admiration for her
CFO. She also has wild sex fantasies about Clay every night. Not that she’d
ever tell anyone. Until she walks in on Clay’s girlfriend Ruby screwing Bradley
the financial analyst right on Clay’s desk.
All bets are off and a little revenge sex is the name of the
game. Ruby thinks she’ll placate Clay by telling him to have sex with another
woman to pay her back for all her rule-breaking. When Jessica learns about
that, she makes up her mind to seduce her boss for keeps, not just one night of
revenge.
But can she become the more-than-one-man woman Clay
Blackwell wants? Or will his desires tear them apart?
Revenge
Sex
West Coast Series,
Book 1
Copyright 2011 Jasmine Haynes
Chapter One
Hoisting her onto the desktop,
Bradley spread her legs and yanked on her pretty purple thong.
“Oh yeah, baby, that’s it, rip
them off.” Ruby loved Bradley’s he-man act. Of course, the panties didn’t tear,
but so what, he still managed to slide the thong down her legs and toss it into
the corner.
Ruby was wet and ready before
Bradley even licked her. She’d been wet all day planning the naughty little
encounter.
“I’m going to make you scream,”
he boasted, then he put his tongue to her.
And truly, she did want to
scream. “Oh, that’s so right, baby. Clay never does it like that. He never
finds the right spot.” Bradley always needed a little ego boost to get him
going, and what better way than to tell him how much better he was than Clay,
her live-in boyfriend, lover—whatever you wanted to call him—and most
importantly, Bradley’s boss.
Leaning back on her elbows, she
drew her knees up so she could watch every move he made. His hair was a
lustrous dark brown against the perfect white flesh of her thighs. His
shoulders were wide, and she loved the sight of him in his white dress shirt as
he went to town on her. Ruby enjoyed watching a man make love to her with his
mouth. She loved the brush of soft hair against her skin, and the bristle of
Bradley’s perpetual quarter-inch growth of beard. She relished each and every
sensation.
She especially loved cuckolding
Clay on his very big desk at ten o’clock on a weeknight after the cleaners had
all gone home. His second-floor office overlooked the parking lot and road, yet
with the conference table between the windows and Clay’s desk, they were
virtually unnoticeable from the outside. So Ruby had left the lights on, all
the better to see Bradley down between her legs.
“Ooh,” she crooned. “Clay hardly
ever licks me.” She moaned. “And I so love the way you do it.” Bradley was
twenty-nine and a mere financial analyst, so she had to find ways to coax the
best out of him—young men still had so much to learn. One of those ways was to
tell him how much more virile he was than his boss, or rather, his boss twice
removed. Bradley worked for the finance manager who in turn worked for Clay,
but really, it was Clay Bradley had to
impress. To be honest, Clay didn’t always appreciate Bradley’s work, so Ruby
had made it her mission to help the young man feel he was good enough in other
realms. Like doing her nine ways to Sunday. On a Wednesday night.
Then she stopped thinking and
let sensation take over. “Don’t stop, lick me, baby, just like that.” The heat
built inside her, ready to burst, yet she pushed it off a little longer, like
riding a magnificent wave just before it crashes.
Bradley put two fingers inside
her the way she’d taught him, and found her G-spot right away. Oh, that boy was
improving. She shuddered, then cried out, “Yes, yes, yes.” And the climax
pulsed through her body.
Before it could end, she grabbed
Bradley by the hair. “Fuck me now.”
Bradley grabbed her hips, and
rolled her over, her stomach bare against the cool wood of the desk. She loved
it from behind, pushed against a hard surface, taken, almost forced. Especially
when Clay took her this way. He was so big, so tall, three inches taller than
Bradley’s six feet.
Behind her, Bradley made fast
work of the condom. “It’s going to be so good, you won’t want to even go home
to him.”
She didn’t tell him that would
never happen; better not to spoil the moment. “When he does me, baby, I imagine
it’s you.” Actually, when Bradley did her, she imagined telling Clay about it
later, how hot he’d get, how it turned him into a wild man. Her wild man.
Bradley plunged deep. Glorying
in the feel of him, she stretched out her hands, accidentally knocking over the
photo of Clay and his two teenage sons. Oops. But oh, this was good, so very
good. He was young and strong, his technique not better than Clay’s, just
different. It still needed refining, but he was a fast learner, at least in the
sex department. She adored teaching a young man new tricks. She was forty years
old—a hot little number, if she did say so herself—and proud of her toned
figure and that her face had only a smattering of age lines. She was better
than she’d ever been. Bradley couldn’t get enough of her.
“Oh my God,” she cried out. “You
fill me up. You’re so much bigger and thicker than Clay.”
At her words, Bradley went
crazy, assured of how much more virile he was than Clay. These young men
performed so well when you told them what they wanted to hear. Stretching out
her arms, she curled her fingers around the edge of the desk and gave herself
up to the moment, to the feel of a hard, young cock inside her and the second
sweet climb to the pinnacle.
*
* * * *
Jessica Murphy jerked, then
snapped to a sitting position on the break room sofa. In the dark, the
microwave clock flipped to ten-oh-five in bright blue letters. Good Lord, all
she’d wanted to do was rest her eyes, a five-minute catnap; she’d slept for
over an hour. The board meeting was on Friday, and she needed to review the
March quarterly financials tomorrow with Clay Blackwell, her CFO. But there was
an issue in CIP, the construction-in-progress account.
A noise had woken her. It
couldn’t be the cleaning staff; they’d left before her so-called catnap. She
rose from the couch, crossing to the door by the illumination of the microwave
clock. The hallway was dark. She’d turned out all the lights, not wanting to
waste electricity, especially when she was accounting manager for West Coast
Manufacturing, which meant she knew exactly how much the PG&E bill was.
There it was again. Bracing
herself against the doorframe, she strained to hear. A moan. Then she was sure
she could make out voices, though the words were indistinguishable. She
shivered slightly. The automatic thermostat turned the heating down at nine,
raising it again at six in the morning. Despite being the beginning of April,
the San Francisco Bay Area was still chilly at night.
Stepping out into the hallway,
which bordered all the cubicles in the middle of the large accounting
department, she made out lights on the far side. From the CFO’s office. But
Clay had been long gone before she’d crashed on the break room sofa. Obviously,
he’d come back.
What if he’d discovered her
sleeping? Jessica fluffed her hair, which was curly and tended to get mashed
after she slept on it. It must look like a rat’s nest. And her lipstick was
probably smudged. She ran a finger under each eye to get rid of any mascara,
then smoothed beneath her lips, hoping that was good enough to fix the
lipstick. She hated the idea of Clay Blackwell seeing her at anything less than
her best. He lived with the CEO’s executive admin, Ruby Williams, and Jessica
didn’t have designs on him—she wasn’t a home wrecker—but she admired Clay
immensely and...well...a woman could have her fantasies in the middle of the
night when no one else suspected.
All right, nothing could be done
about her appearance now. She marched down the small walkway between the
cubicles, and the sounds from the other side of the thin dividers grew
exponentially louder with every step she took. Jessica’s heart started to
pound, and she thought about turning around and getting the hell out. Because
really, what was Clay Blackwell doing
in his office? And just who was he with?
She might have run, too, if she
hadn’t heard distinct words in a female voice—“Clay’s never fucked me like
this”—punctuated by a man’s low growl of pleasure.
Turning the corner by the end of
a cubicle wall, Jessica could see straight into Clay’s office. Her breath
stopped in her chest.
Ruby Williams was facedown on the desk, skirt pushed up over
her butt, dark hair flowing around her shoulders, eyes closed, her red lips
parted on a moan of intense pleasure. Behind her, Bradley Palmer slammed into
her, each thrust shoving her across the desk.
Don’t miss Ruby’s
story in Submitting to the Boss, West
Coast Book 2.
Whew!!!
Now tell me who doesn't want to win that?! Hot and steamy Jasmine Haynes always delivers! Please also stop by her site: http://www.jasminehaynes.blogspot.com
