Bad Boys of Summer by Lori Foster & Amy Garvey & Erin McCarthy

Author:Lori Foster & Amy Garvey & Erin McCarthy [Foster, Lori & Garvey, Amy & Mccarthy, Erin]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Adult, General, Love Stories, Man-Woman Relationships, Erotic Stories, Erotic Fiction, Erotic Stories; American, Short Stories (Single Author), Short Stories, Conversion is important., convert, conversion
ISBN: 9780758209344
Google: Gssx1XJ5w-QC
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2005-12-31T13:00:00+00:00

Trish was wet, slick, and swollen, giving little moans of encouragement as Caleb swirled his tongue over her aching nipple, and her hands roamed across his broad steel chest. His licking wasn’t enough—her clitoris was tight, desperate for his touch, and she arched against his hard thighs, trying to entice him to slip a finger inside her hot vulva.

Instead he pulled back and with a wicked grin, flipped her onto her stomach and gave her something much bigger than a finger. And Trish came, jerking on the bed, and straight out of sleep.

She blinked her eyes, shuddered, and flopped back down onto her pillow. Now that was just embarrassing. She had just had anorgasm while sleeping, and a lousy one at that. There was nothing worse than coming with nothing touching her but her own moist panties.

Sucking in air, she squirmed on the sheets, unfulfilled, her inner thighs still throbbing, and hoped like hell Caleb was still asleep. And that while fantasizing herself to a blistering O, she hadn’t squealed out his name between moans.

She chanced a look at him.

Green eyes met hers. Open. Curious.

“You okay?”

No, she wasn’t okay, she was so desperate she was getting off in her sleep while she had a half-naked man in her bed with her. There was something inherently wrong with that.

He rolled on his side toward her. “Did you have a nightmare? You whimpered a little bit.”

No kidding. And she wanted to again.

The sheet only came to his waist, and the sight of all that man skin so close to her, that solid golden chest, that sprinkling of masculine hair, undid her. There was only enough space between her chest and his for a book. A thin, paperback book. His eyes looked clear and sober, his soft brown hair sticking up a little.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It was like prosecuting a case with circumstantial evidence. You could lose, but if you were lucky, you might just force a plea.

“It wasn’t a nightmare. I was having a sex dream.”

His eyebrows rose under his disheveled hair. “You werewhat ?”

Surreptitiously, she kicked the bottom of the sheet with her feet, dragging it down so her tank top was visible. “Having a sex dream. About you.”

Caleb looked frozen in fascination. “You were?”

“Yes, and it’s your fault for looking so cute and for being too big for my couch. I told you last night I wanted you. I wasn’t lying.”

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