Cover Reveal for Stuck In Between

I am so thrilled to share the newest cover for Stuck In Between. Make sure to scroll down for a new excerpt from the story.

stuckinbetweenprintunflattened (1)

Title: Stuck In Between
Author: Blakely Bennett
Genre: Erotic Romance
Release Date: March 24, 2014
Cover Designer: Yocla Designs

Jacqs is a twenty-eight year old woman caught up in an on again, off again relationship with Bond, who is her best friend and the one who causes her the most heartache. She succumbs, yet again, to his powerful charisma, but vows not make it into more than it is, a great night of sex.

Bond, too sexy for his own good, wants Jacqs for himself as he “dates” his way through the female population of South Florida. He selfishly doesn’t see the conflict of interest.

Red, Bond’s best friend, has watched Bond take Jacqs for granted for way too long and soon stakes his own claim on her.

Will Red and Jacqs budding relationship pull apart their tight-knit group of friends and will Jacqs survive being Stuck In Between.

I shook out my hair, put my shoulders back and stood as
straight as possible. I wouldn’t let Red intimidate me. When I strutted over to
him, his expression left me confused. He’d always been so cold, like a granite
statue and yet, I couldn’t read the new side to him.
“Why did you want me to come and what did you mean? Wait …
no … shit, what I really wanted to say was that I appreciate you coming to get
me.”
“Let’s go have a drink.”
“A drink?”
“Yes, you could use one.”
“Would you stop doing that?” I said, squinting up at him
through the outside house light that cascaded around him.
“Doing what? I just offered you a drink,” he said, resting
his back against his vehicle and folding his arms in front of him.
“No, you said I needed one. You’re so bossy.”
He laughed and said, “You bring it out in me. I’ll do my
best to temper the urge.”
“You have urges?”
“You don’t want to know,” he said, glaring down at me.
“Oh … I,” I stuttered, my nipples flaring at his intent. I
crossed my arms over my chest as well.
Grabbing my hand, he pulled me along with him into the
house and through the main sitting area. Dreamworld
played through the sound system. Cat gave me a questioning look as Red led me
into the kitchen. I shrugged my shoulders back to her. He opened the refrigerator,
fingered a Mike’s Lemonade and a bottle of Dos Equis, popped the caps and
swooped up my hand again in his large palm, leading me out to the back.
I loved all the palms and the large stone deck around the
Jacuzzi and pool. His two-story home sat on the intracoastal waterway, allowing
him to keep his boat right behind the house.
Two guys I didn’t recognize sat at the wrought iron table
by the pool, smoking cigarettes.
“Hey Ray, Charlie, glad you could make it,” Red said,
pausing but not releasing my hand.
“Thanks for the invite. She’s a tiny one,” one of the guys
said, tilting his head in my direction.
“She makes up for it with a big mouth,” Red said with a
smug expression.
I tried to pull my hand out of his grip, but he held on so
tight I had to use my free hand to punch him in the shoulder. I would have
preferred to punch his jaw but I figured it would hurt me more than him to hit
the sharp edge of his face.
His friends chuckled, leaving me even more incensed.
“And he makes up for his Neanderthal size with his small
personality or at least that’s what he calls it,” I said, purposefully looking
at his pants.
That made his friends fall out in hysterical laughter and
I felt rather proud of myself.
“Come on, you,” he said, dragging me back inside and up
the stairs to his bedroom.
I had never been in there before. So neat and organized,
it could have been a room in an upscale hotel except for the antique furniture
on either side of the fireplace and the art on the walls. A chair sat near the
entrance to the room, a pair of slacks over the back of it.
“What the hell is going on with you Red?” I said as I
finally managed to pull my hand away from his. “You’ve never given me much
notice over the years. How long has it been?”
“Five years.”
“I’ve been putting up with your crap for five years?
Jesus.” I took the lemonade from his hand and took several swallows.
“Take it easy, Jacqs,” he said, closing the door behind
him and leaning back against it.
“Stop telling me what to do, would you?”
“I can’t help myself,” he said with a slight smile.
“Try.” I sat on the edge of the bed, putting plenty of
distance between us.
“I didn’t much care for your joke.”
“Your friends rather liked it and you started it. Don’t
fuck with me and I won’t fuck with you back.”
“Do you have to talk like that? It’s very unattractive.”
“What the fuck … shit …um heck do you want from me?” I
drank more to boost my courage.
“I’m warning you, Jacqs.”
“Warning me? From what? What will you do?”
“Don’t push me.”
“I push your buttons without even trying.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“Are you going to answer me?” I asked. “Because, if not,
I’ll just head home.” I stood, finished off my drink and took a step toward the
door that he blocked with his massive frame.
He crossed the distance between us, swiped the drink out
of my hand, placing both bottles on the corner of his dresser. Before I had a
chance to fight or protest he lifted me under my arms, off my feet, and placed
my back against the wall. He groaned as if it pained him and then he descended
on my mouth with his.
I tried to push him off me, but he remained hard as steel
and I finally gave over to the incredible sensations he stirred within me. I
took his large face in my little hands and that caused him to groan in
pleasure, deepening the kiss. As I wrapped my legs around his bulky frame, he
held me closer and carried me over to the antique chair by the door. He sat
down with me on his lap, and we just stared at each other for a moment.
Afraid of breaking the spell that I knew would end once
reality set in, I sat, waiting. He ran his hands up my neck, followed by his
mouth, kissing and nibbling. Chills fluttered down my spine and I moaned, “Oh,
Red.” Wetness pooled in my panties and I wanted him to take me. I wanted to
know what his cock looked like, tasted like. I didn’t care if we ever spoke
again afterwards, or if my motivations stemmed from getting back at Bond. Red
had sparked an intense need that required fulfillment and I wanted him to take
me.
Running my hands through his short cropped red hair, I
pulled his mouth back to mine and he took control. Clutching my wrists, he held
them with one hand behind my back, and bit his way down my chest. He unbuttoned
the rest of my blouse, pushing the silk down off my shoulders, exposing my
breast and hard nipples to the air.
“No bra? You’re naughtier than I imagined.”
“You’ve thought about me?”
“Incessantly. Keep your arms behind you,” he said as ran
his hands under my breasts and lowered his mouth. “I had no idea.”
“What?”
“For such a tiny woman, you have rather large nipples.”
I scrunched my face, not sure if he liked what he saw.
“No need for the funny face, I love them.” He sucked on my
right nipple and I closed my eyes in pleasure. His big hands kneaded my flesh
and pulled on my left nipple.
“Ohhhh,” I called out, arching into his caresses.
“Shhhh,” he said, “I think I heard something.”
“Don’t stop,” I pleaded.
“Stay the night.”
“That’ll go over well with Bond, for sure.”
“Did you have to mention him?”
The bubble had burst and in my embarrassment, I scurried
off his lap and buttoned up my shirt. I glanced in the mirror on the dresser
and smoothed out my hair.
He pushed into me from behind, grasping my breast over my shirt. He nipped my earlobe and said, “I’m not done with you, but I need to check on the party below.” He clutched the nape of my neck, turning my head toward him and kissing me one last time.
“I’ll see you downstairs.”

 

Blakely Bennett grew up in Southeast Florida and has been residing in the great Northwest for over eight years. She graduated from Nova Southeastern University with a degree in psychology, which accounts for her particular interest in crafting the personalities, struggles, and motivations of her characters. She is an avid reader of many genres of fiction, but especially erotica and romance. Writing has always been her bliss. She is attracted to stories of self-struggle and ultimate recovery.

Blakely is married to a wonderful, loving and supportive husband, also a writer, who helps to keep her grounded. She is a mother, a communitarian, a lover of music (always on while she is writing—thank you, Pandora), and a good friend. An advocate of love and female empowerment, she is a facilitator for a women’s group. She loves to walk and hike for exercise and finds that, since moving to Seattle, WA, she is now one of those “crazy” people who walk in the rain.

Stuck In Between (erotic romance) is her 5th novel. She is also the author of the dark erotic suspense, My Body Trilogy (My Body-His, My Body-His (Marcello) & My Body-Mine) and co-authored the contemporary romance, The Demarcation of Jack with her husband, Dana Bennett.

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Paying for Book Reviews

Dollars in the books, isolated on white background, business traAn online friend and I recently had a somewhat heated debate about paying for reviews. He told me about a website, where he had signed up, that has a requirement to provide gift cards in exchange for potential reviews. I said something like, “I’m unwilling to pay money to get reviews.” For him, since it wasn’t a direct exchange, money for a review, it was completely fine.

We all get to decide, thankfully, where our personal line of ethics lies.

I have been asked by other authors to “post a review” in exchange for a review of my book. I wouldn’t even have to read the novel and they would tell me what to write. Of course I declined. Is it wrong that I want to sink or swim on my own merit?

There are people on FB that offer reviews for a fee. I’m completely against this. My debate partner tried to equate giving my book away for free with paying for a review. I completely and vehemently disagreed. Yes, we can place a value on an eBook (although it costs me nothing to provide one) or even a paperback but I don’t feel like I’m BUYING a review by providing a reviewer with a free copy.

You can find plenty of websites where you can pay a rather steep fee to get to be reviewed on their site. To me a book is either good or not and there are so many different free sites to get your book noticed that I don’t want to pay my hard earned money to support an industry that exploits its writers.

I became rather irritated during the debate and I realized why it happened after the fact. I’m perfectly okay with having a difference of opinion with people and many people who read this post will probably think there is nothing wrong with paying money to get your book promoted any way they can. It’s a business, right? However, when someone argues with me as if their position is the only one that makes sense; I want to slap the imagined smirk off their face. Not truly, since I’m the non-violent creative type, but I think I’ve illustrated my point.

Where do you fall along the divide? Please share your thoughts with us.

Warm hugs to all my readers and a special hug to my debate partner,

Blakely

Please feel free to friend me on Facebook.
Find me Twitter & Pinterest.

Email Me

The Dream and the Reality

sunset clouds kids dreams reality digital art artwork balloons sign board 3000x1653 wallpaper_www.wallmay.net_13I’m sure it’s like this with most dreams. There is the fantasy of how it will be and then the stark realism of the truth.

DREAM: Picture me with tons of book sales, huge advances, bookstores clamoring to have me do book signings at their establishments, talk show hosts banging down my door, and two hot men in tight white shorts, waving big feathered fans on either side of me to keep me cool. Okay, I got a little carried away, but I think you get the point.

REALITY: Your publisher will take most of your royalties and you will have to promote yourself non-stop, getting your books into the physical stores takes emotional mountain climbing skills and you will need to put out at least six novels until you are really noticed. OUCH! Continue reading

Impatient Much?

Isabella_ImpatientThat would be me. Patience has never been my strong suit. I remember being a kid and how waiting in line was pure torture for me—really—waiting for anything. That is, until I realized I could create a story in my head while I waited. Walking home from school, I would sing a song I made up on the fly or fantasized about my latest fictional adventure.

I guess you could say my impatience lead me to be an author. That and my love of reading. Continue reading

What’s Trending Now

Edge-of-Love-1As an author who writes erotica, it is incumbent on me to stay abreast (no pun intended) of the latest trends in sexual behavior. While doing research, I have recently discovered a study about the rise in reporting of women on women sex both here in the US and in the UK. It is believed that the change is due to the shift in society in regards to same sex relationships, allowing women to more comfortably explore different sides of their sexuality. In addition, the advent of the internet has made finding potential partners easier. Continue reading

My New Year’s Resolutions for 2014

new-years-resolutionsIt’s that time again to focus on our goals and resolutions for the upcoming year. I’ve culled my list down to the bare essentials.

  1. Spend more time Skyping with our family and friends on the east coast (we miss them a lot)
  2. Find a better balance between writing, social media/promotion, and relaxation (I worked way too much this year!)
  3. Make exercise a daily priority (definitely need to get back into my groove)
  4. Losing the dreaded extra fifteen pounds (my clothes will fit sooo much better)
  5. Publish four more novels {Stuck In-Between – the first novel in the Bound by Your Love Series, Jenna’s Rubicon – sequel to The Demarcation of Jack and second book in the Fractured Fidelities Trilogy, Lainie’s Story (working title) – the second book in the Bound by Your Love Series, & the third and final book in the Fractured Fidelity Trilogy} (Wish me luck with all of that! And yes, I can see how #5 might compete with #2 & #6)
  6. Take a long vacation next summer and winter 🙂

What are your goals and/or resolutions for the coming year? Please share with us.

I wish everyone a very Happy New Year celebration and great love and abundance for 2014.

Warm hugs,

Blakely

Please feel free to friend me on Facebook.
Find me Twitter & Pinterest.

Email Me

Happy Holidays

Take-Some-Peace-On-This-Day-

I love this time of year because it gives us great reasons to reflect. 2013 brought many exciting events for which I’m thankful. My first novel, My Body-His came out in November of 2012, so I started off 2013 being a newly published author with Fanny Press. I experienced book signings for the first time and I must say, that was definitely a highlight. My Body-His (Marcello) came out in March 2013 and My Body-Mine was released in July 2013.

In addition, my husband, Dana Bennett, and I self-published The Demarcation of Jack. There was a stiff learning curve getting all the formatting just so, but with the help of a great editor and cover artist, we are thrilled with the outcome. Continue reading

Bush or no Bush – To Hair is Human, but to Trim is Divine

http://ethnichealthcourt.com/

http://ethnichealthcourt.com/

As requested by an online friend, I’m parting the hairs of the nether regions to find out people’s preferences. As to my personal preference: I like smooth lips but hair on the mound for a woman. Something more than a thin landing strip. I most definitely DO NOT like men shaved, but trimmed is fine. Men devoid of pubic hair, reads effeminate to me, and I like my men manly. A female with a bald pussy reminds me of a prepubescent girl, but I certainly can understand the want of uncovering the lips and clit for better access. Continue reading

The Origins of the Orgasmic Phenomena

ryan460Many times I have heard stories from men (keep that in mind) about women who cum from simple nipple suckling, or thigh massage (no clitoral touch), or kissing alone, and most recently hair pulling at the nap of the neck. I’m not sure if I’m one of the sad few who don’t cum that way or if our faking sisters are giving us a bad name. Now don’t get me wrong, all those things turn me on but a climax isn’t imminent without clitoral attention.

I am committed to writing authentic sex scenes, not just to arouse, but also to help people to become better lovers and partners. I don’t write pornography perpetuating the stereotypical manly man bringing a woman to orgasm by his mere presence. I want it real. I want foreplay. Continue reading

Sneak Preview of Chapter One for Stuck In-Between

Below is the first chapter in Stuck In-Between, Copyright © 2014 by Blakely Bennett. (EROTIC CONTENT – please be at least 18 years of age) This is the first draft so it’s still a work in progress. I would love to know whether or not you feel compelled to read more. Please comment. Thanks!

stuck in between cover maybe

CHAPTER ONE

Help Me

by Joni Mitchell

My eyes swung to the left, and skimmed the rack to see if he had added any new devices for disciplining his wayward lovers. There, on the wall, hung a variety of whips, cuffs, and paddles. I had long ago vowed never to allow him to take such liberties with my body. At least I had upheld that promise to myself.amn, not again, I thought as I opened my eyes and scanned my surroundings. In one fell swoop, I had abandoned all my firmly held resolutions. I should have known better than to mix alcohol and my ex-boyfriend Bond.

As I sat up, I felt my head swim from the wine, the pot, and Bond. He was like a ticking time bomb, blowing my life to pieces each time I gave in to his gravitational pull. In my defense, he had that effect on all women, not just me. Unfortunately, I was the silly woman lying naked in his bed under the black-framed Octopussy movie poster he had hung above the headboard.

Bond leaned through the doorway wearing fitted white shorts and a short-sleeved shirt with a white collar and blue stripes. His long, brown hair appeared wet from the shower. Seeing him dressed like that reminded me he came from money. To me, he looked funny dressed like a man going to play tennis at the country club instead of the tattooed biker he liked to portray. Neither was really him in my opinion.

“Chop, chop,” he said.

“‘Chop, chop’? Have you turned into my mother all of a sudden?” I said, slowly pivoting my body to the side of the bed to stand.

“I have company arriving soon.”

The way he said company, it was clear it would be of the female persuasion.

“It’s not even 10 a.m.,” I almost whined but modulated my voice in time.

“They own a sailboat so we’re setting out early. Seriously, I need you to vacate.”

“Well, good morning and fuck you too.” I wanted to stick my tongue out, but instead behaved like an adult.

He moved toward me with that look on his face.

I held my palm out, to halt his progress. “Don’t,” I said.

“Look Jacqs, let’s talk later, okay? I don’t have to be at work until nine tonight. We can deal with this at Red’s before I head in.”

“Deal with what exactly?” I turned my back to him and threw on my dress from the previous night. My torn panties were nowhere to be found.

“Well, you know, last night.”

Last night, I sighed.

 

It was actually 3:30 a.m. when I had heard the first text chime, and I didn’t have to look to see who it might be. I ignored the sound, rolled over and started drifting back to sleep. Bond, however, proved relentless and texted me seven more times. After the first five texts, I started to worry. I had considered turning off the sound on my cell phone overnight since knowing Bond, but I feared my sister wouldn’t be able to reach me in an emergency. She frequently called at off hours, but found texting too much of a bother so, at least, I knew I wouldn’t be dealing with her latest drama.

I finally gave in, snatched my phone away from its charging cord, and headed into the bathroom. I scrolled through my newly received texts:

 

Bond: Jacqs, are you up?

Bond: Come on, sleepyhead, I need you!

Bond: My father threatened to cut off my money again.

Bond: He and I really had it out this time. I don’t think he plans to speak to me again.

Bond: I just need you to come by and bring me a bottle of wine. That will calm me down so I can sleep. Please!

Bond: Now I know you’re just being stubborn. Are you lying in bed trying to get back to sleep?

Bond: It’s not going to work. I need you, and you know you are my only real friend. Pretty please?

Bond: Baby, I promise to behave, okay? I’m asking you over as my friend only.

 

“Yeah, right,” I said to the bathroom door. I gave in and typed:

 

Me: What kind?

Bond: Merlot and thank you, thank you, thank you, you’re a godsend.

Me: You owe me.

 

Bond and I had been friends for over eight years, and he had always been there for me. I knew a lot about his family dynamic and what it cost him on an ongoing basis. I would always respond to him, even though I fought it.

I stood in front of my closet, looking for something half-decent to wear. After putting on a light sundress, I grabbed my purple hoodie. Winter weather in Hollywood, Florida, could be unpredictable. After freshening up in the bathroom, I stared in the mirror. You’d better behave yourself tonight, I said to my body and then rolled my eyes at myself.

As I pulled my messy, long, wavy brown hair back into a ponytail, I thought of putting on some makeup but nixed the idea. My eyes, green around my pupil and blue filling the rest of the iris, were red-rimmed from lack of sleep, and makeup couldn’t fix that.

On my way to Bond’s apartment, the only movement on the street was a stray cat and a section of a newspaper blowing in the wind. It was warm enough outside to let me crack the driver’s side window. I drew in a deep breath of ocean air coming from a few blocks away. The surrounding silence made the volume on the stereo seem louder, so I turned it down. After pulling into Bond’s parking spot, I bumbled up to his place toting the bottle of merlot.

“Here you go,” I said, after unlocking the door with my own key and handing him the wine that I kept for such occasions. “Do you ever plan to get your own car?”

“No,” he said, taking the bottle into the kitchen.

“Are you ready yet to tell me why?” I asked as I followed him.

“No,” he repeated, uncorking the bottle.

Even with his body angled away from me, I felt the ungodly pull on my being. It had been months since I’d sex and far longer since I had received a really amazing orgasm at the hands of another. Simply, I was crazy horny, and hanging out with a past lover, specifically the one with the most magnificent cock I ever had the pleasure of experiencing, did not help matters.

My nipples tightened as Bond glanced over at me. He seemed very tall at five feet ten, but then again, at merely five feet two, almost everyone dwarfed me. He was a decent-looking man, with masculine arms and legs, who, against convention, wore his glossy, brown hair long. His face would qualify as above average, I suppose, but he wouldn’t be considered exceptionally attractive. His light brown eyes, however, seemed to mesmerize us simple mortals. I had never given much thought to pheromones before I met him, but he had them in abundance. His unique scent melted the defenses of women in his presence, which, trust me, can be quite intimidating when you are the one dating him.

His low-slung, black jeans, black T-shirt and black boots made him look as dangerous as he truly was.

“Do you want a glass?” he asked.

“Sure, why not,” I replied. I leaned against the counter, took the goblet from his hand, and asked, “What happened this time?”

“Honestly, the usual argument. They want me at their next event so I can play the black sheep and make them feel superior. I told my father I can’t get time off, which is partly true.”

“Is there some big event at the CroBar club? Do you have to be at work that night?”

“Yeah, but there are plenty of newbies who could fill in for me.”

“How much longer does your father have control over your inheritance?”

“At forty, I’ll get the money my grandparents left for me. Five very long years. It wouldn’t be such a big deal, but you know me, I love to party and those monthly trust payments help.”

I knew his emceeing job kept him busy, but it certainly didn’t keep him out of trouble. He was like a spider sitting in the middle of his web, ready to capture his latest prey.

“Help pay for dates, right?” I hadn’t forgotten how he liked to wine and dine. “You can’t mean you spend it on living here,” I said, glancing around the apartment.

His place was above the club where he worked, and it could get loud in the little abode, so I didn’t imagine he paid much rent. He did have expensive tastes though. The kitchen was completely outfitted, although I’d never known him to cook. The black leather couch with plush matching recliners sat atop an oriental rug. I knew he spent some of his funds on those ridiculous toys hanging on the wall in his bedroom. His king-sized bed filled most of the space, and he used the wall of closets for his clothes and a collection of leather jackets and boots.

“Is your family thing another one of those company functions?” I asked.

“My family is a company function.”

“The one you dragged me to was dreadful. For Democrats, they surely looked, acted, and talked like their Republican brethren. I’m pretty sure I was the only woman or man there not wearing a business suit.”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” he said and shrugged his shoulders.

“What does Lily say about it?”

Bond took a big gulp of wine. “Lily wants me to come because she hasn’t seen me in ages, and she says she doesn’t have any fun without me. They’re making my brother Donny a partner, so it’s going to be black tie.”

“So what are you planning to do?”

“Talk you into going with me, of course,” he said with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, hell no. You have years of experience dealing with hundreds of people looking down on you and asking awkward questions. I, for one, don’t have the stomach for it. Plus, do you really want to encourage Lily’s idea that we’re the perfect match?”

“Aren’t we?”

I decided not to dignify his question with a response. His need for multiple women, domination, and his general fucked up nature didn’t suit me well at all. And yet, he was my best friend. My body would staunchly argue he was entirely and exactly what she needed, including the length of his cock and his aggressive sex. Fortunately for me, at least most of the time, my mind ruled my collective being.

“You didn’t answer,” Bond said as he led me into the front room.

“You noticed that all by yourself?” I sat down on the soft leather sofa, leaving some distance between us and took a sip of wine.

“Am I going to have to spank you, Jacqs?” He held out his big hand, and my heart beat a little faster. “Because you know, not much else would give me as much pleasure as putting you into your rightful place, over my knee.”

“So what do you plan to do?” I said out loud, while my body flamed in silence over his suggestion. I could already feel my pussy throbbing, and he had yet to touch me. I swallowed a larger gulp of wine, trying to distract myself.

“I already told you,” he said as he refilled his glass and topped mine off. “But since you are so inclined to change the subject, how’s your sister doing?”

“Samantha is a train wreck, although—and it seems wrong as hell—she is as gorgeous as ever.”

“And the baby?”

“My mother is taking care of Sarah, who is a love. I just don’t understand why Samantha wouldn’t give her up for adoption when she seems to have no interest in raising her.”

“Where is she staying these days? Is she still seeing the same therapist?” He shifted closer to me, nonchalantly laying his hand on my thigh.

I stared at his fingers, feeling the energy radiating from his palm. His touch caused wetness to gather in my panties. “Uh ummm,” I said, abruptly pushing his hand off me. “She’s living in an apartment with her latest criminal boyfriend. As horrible as it sounds, I’m just grateful she’s not at my place. And no, she stopped seeing the therapist when he insisted she needed to grieve our father’s death. She ranted on about it to me. She said, ‘I’m twenty-fucking-five years old, and they want me to grieve something that happened when I was nine.’ She told him to get a life and to fuck off. She never went back.”

“Sorry, babe. She’s a good kid, deep down,” he said, shaking his head.

“Let’s hope it surfaces soon … for her sake and Sarah’s.”

“What about your boss? Is work any better?”

“He’s still a huge asshole. I long for the days when he was still on his best behavior. Now he’s just a bull in a china shop, running over everyone. But really, I’d rather not talk about work on my day off.”

He threw his arm around my shoulders and said, “I’ve got some great dope. Want a hit?”

“I’m exhausted because some crazy man got me out of bed at three thirty in the morning.”

“This stuff will perk you up.”

I finished off the glass of wine and said, “Oh? Well, can I crash on your couch tonight?”

“Bed and of course.” He winked.

“Couch! And stop winking at me.”

“I guess we shall see?” His relentless stare penetrated my blue-green eyes.

“What about your promise to behave?”

“I’m incapable of behaving when I’m alone with you.”

With sheer will I pulled away from his gaze. I wanted to swipe that confident smile off his face. It had been six months and three days since I had succumbed to his charms, and like an addict attending AA, I had no intention of starting back on day one.

Lainie, my closest friend other than Bond, remind me often, most especially when I complained about Bond to her, how ill-conceived it was to be friends with an old lover. According to her, I’d never gotten over him.

Bond handed me the pipe, and I took a hit. I held in the smoke for a bit, and when I breathed out, I, at once, felt more relaxed and energized. It didn’t lessen the tug on my libido though.

“It’s been awhile since you and I spent any time alone together,” Bond said, pulling me back against him.

I sighed, feeling like I’d come home again. “Mmmhmm,” I muttered.

He took advantage of my relaxation and drew me in for a kiss.

“Wait!” I said, trying to hold him off.

“Don’t play games with me, Jacqs. I can already smell your cunt, and it’s driving me insane.” When his mouth descended on mine, my mind lost the fight, and my body started making all the decisions.

As I shifted my legs across his lap, I threw my arms around his neck, and took in his naturally appealing fragrance. I wanted more; I needed to be closer. My rational mind made one last attempt, trying to persuade me how much I would regret my decision to have sex with him. I mentally kicked her away, deciding to suffer the consequences later.

Bond groaned into my mouth as he schooled me with his tongue. No one had ever tasted so good; I just wanted to eat him alive. He shifted my body around so I straddled his lap, and I felt his profound interest. The forcefulness of his continued kiss compelled my submission. In those moments when my body ruled, the desire to give myself over to him resurfaced.

He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head back. “You have the most gorgeous eyes I’ve ever seen,” he said, as he had before.

I figured he said similar things to his other women, but I didn’t care in the least. All I wanted was for him to take me roughly, so the rest of my world would fall away.

He lifted the hem of my dress off my thighs revealing my white bikini panties. He rubbed my pussy through the thin cloth.

“Jesus, Jacqs, already so wet for me? You’re good for my ego.” He continued circling the way he knew I liked.

“Your ego … oh … doesn’t need … any help!”

“Shh,” he said.

I almost lost control when he slipped the material to the side and plunged his middle finger into my wetness. “Ohhh,” I moaned.

Scooping up my juices, he lathered my bulging clit. “Look how hard and swollen you are already. You haven’t been using this enough,” he whispered into my ear as he lightly pinched my bud between his fingers. Then he laid his hand flat and made big circles, alternating between soft and slow and a hard frantic rhythm. He propelled me higher and higher.

“Stand,” he ordered as I hovered at the edge of a powerful orgasm.

I quickly obeyed.

He tore off my panties and let them fall to the floor. Repositioning me on his lap, he resumed his play and placed a finger from his free hand into my mouth. “Make it good and wet.”

Holding me right at the edge of release, he softened the pressure on my clit and inserted his saliva-wetted finger into my ass. As soon as he penetrated my anal opening, which had to have been his wicked intention, I screamed out my climax, “Oh, oh, oh, yes, oh Bond, you make me … ohhh!” I breathed erratically as my heart tried to beat its way out of my ribcage.

He held me tight against his chest as I recovered, slowly floating back down to earth. “I’ve missed you,” he muttered into my hair.

That lone comment began to thaw my heart and melt my resistance. I won’t make this into more than it is, I promised myself.

“A lot,” he continued, “and seeing your face as you come, there’s nothing else like it.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” I said, but could feel my mind shaking her finger at me.

“Please undress me,” he said in a domineering yet quiet voice.

I tilted upright and pulled up his shirt, revealing his smooth chest, taut stomach, and small silver nipple rings. He lifted up slightly so I could yank the top out from around him. On his right shoulder was an intricate Celtic knot surrounded by the flames of the sun, which covered an earlier tattoo I had once seen before he had it reworked. The underlying faded blue tat had one Celtic knot intertwined with a heart, and flames crowning the top. It was much smaller and poorly done, but I still wondered what it meant. Bond never liked talking about it.

My eyes shifted away from the tattoo and moved down his chest, following the trail of hair leading into his pants. Shifting my butt back towards his knees, I unzipped his jeans. I stepped down from his lap to sit at his feet in order to remove each black boot. I had to tug to get them free. I then slipped the denim down his legs easily.

He wore no underwear, leaving his magnificent cock standing at attention.

“Kneel,” he said, although he needn’t bother. The pearl of precum had already garnered my attention.

Obliging him, I settled between his knees and lifted his hard erection to my lips. He let me play for a few minutes, but it would be short lived. Before he took control of my mouth and his blowjob, I had time to take in his masculine scent of warm skin and sandalwood, and the musky taste of his cock, which had long been embedded in my psyche. I could have knelt there forever worshipping his phallus, but Bond didn’t have the patience for that. I knew where he planned to send his first ejaculation.

Once I had worked his cock halfway into my mouth, he tilted my head up and forced the rest of his engorged dick into my throat. My eyes watered as I struggled to maintain eye contact, wanting to see him as he took from me what he needed. He shifted himself to the edge of the couch and slowly pulled himself out of my mouth, allowing me to swallow and take a breath.

“I love that mouth of yours, Jacqs. My cock belongs there. It’s been way too long, don’t you think?”

Before I had a chance to respond, he soused past my lips, forcing himself in until I felt his balls on my chin. Back and forth he moved, never breaking eye contact and our connection. His cock swelled even more as his orgasm hovered close.

The last time he pulled out he said, “Take a deep breath for me honey.”

I nodded and did as he asked.

He immersed his shaft back into my throat and held it there as he bellowed his release. “Fuck Jacqs! Just as I remembered, oh fuuuck.”

My eyes continued to tear as I watched his climax through a blur. I felt both powerful—that I could give Bond such an intense orgasm when he could have anyone—and in awe of his sexuality and the spell he cast over me.

“Jesus,” he said, as he finally withdrew his cock.

I licked my lips and made a popping sound.

He chuckled as he reclined against the couch and closed his eyes.

Resting against his left leg, I snuggled close. I lifted his semi-hard cock and licked off the come oozing out of the tip.

“Do you know what will happen if you continue doing that?” he asked.

“Mmmhmm,” I muttered.

After he had recovered, he reached down and pulled me back into his lap. I couldn’t help but swivel my butt, making Bond laugh.

“You sure are a horny girl, Jacqs. I think you should visit me more often.”

“You have plenty of women to provide services for you.”

“First off, none are like you. And secondly, I was talking about you.”

“Let’s not talk,” I said. I would berate myself the next day for my current indiscretions, but I had no plans on stopping at one orgasm.

“As you wish. Let’s move this to the bedroom.”

He stood up with me in his arms, and I wrapped my legs around his fit waist. In quick, confident strides, he entered the bedroom and placed me down at the edge of the high mattress.

“I’m always amazed at how quickly I recover for you,” he said, staring down at me.

With my legs hanging off the end of the bed I leaned back on my hands and said, “Shall I believe it takes longer with the rest of your harem?”

“Believe what you want.” He folded his arms across his chest.

“Don’t get snarky, Bond.”

“You’re right, let’s not talk.”

Our brief conversation hadn’t dissuaded his cock. Clutching my thighs, he pulled my ass just over the edge of the bed and lowered himself, propping his upper body over mine. I held my knees back, opening myself to him. His hard-on penetrated my enflamed pussy, and after two strokes, he was fully immersed.

He groaned in ecstasy and I moaned in unison, making us both smile. Bond filled me in a way no other man had, and I enjoyed every second of it.

Our pace became frantic as we slammed our bodies together, and I could feel our perspiration building.

Bond slowed his thrusts and said, “Play with your clit, Jacqs. I want to feel you come with me.”

I hesitated, still feeling the discomfort that came along with touching myself around other people. Even with my history with Bond, I still felt self-conscious.

“Do you need some motivation?” he said, glancing at the rack that held his instruments of torture.

“No,” I said, letting go of my right knee and circling my clit. I placed my other hand down on the bed to propel myself against Bond’s delicious assault.

“Jacqs!” he grunted, and I knew what he meant. I had let my eyes drift shut, and he demanded eye contact during sex at all times.

“Yes sir!” I practically spat out.

“Good girl.”

I circled my nub in time with his lunges and grunted each time he crashed against me. It didn’t take long to get right to the very edge, sparking small orgasms leading up to the big one.

“Bond, I’m close.”

“So am I love. Take me over the brink with you.”

“Okay … okay … oh lord, oh yes, here we go! Ohhh.”

My pussy clutched and convulsed around Bond’s cock, causing his orgasm to fire along with mine. A roll of thunder that seemed to start in his chest escaped his mouth in a roar that deafened us both. His explosion filled me with his energy and come.

He collapsed on top of me, shifting slightly to the side. I just lay there, dead to the world, floating in the afterglow.

“Jesus, Jacqs. Do you have special powers in that pussy of yours?”

“Very funny,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“I think I have sex amnesia with you.”

“Sex amnesia? That’s a new one. Do tell.” I wondered where he came up with his bullshit.

“Well, if I remembered how great sex was with you, I’d be following you around all the time.”

I laughed at him. “Uh huh,” I said, scooting over to get around him.

“Where are you going?” He grabbed my waist to keep me in place.

“To clean up,” I said, gesturing to my saturated labia, “and to brush my teeth.”

“Okay, hurry back.”

Once I had finished up in the bathroom, I climbed into bed, and we got into our usual sleeping configuration. My right cheek lay on his left shoulder, and my left leg crossed over his stomach. His left arm cuddled me in close, and we both started drifting off. I would berate myself in the morning, most especially when Bond morphed back to his usual self, but in that moment, before sleep overtook me, I felt blissful.

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“Last night was a mistake and shouldn’t have happened. Next time call Red.”

“Come on, Jacqs, don’t pull away from me.”

“You’re kidding, right?” I said, throwing my hands out in front of me.

“I’m not.”

“Bond, I love you, but you’re delusional. You are kicking me out of your apartment so you can yacht with some rich chicks Red has drummed up, and yet, you’re acting like I’m shunning you after you have awakened me with kisses and a warm breakfast. Really, dude?”

“Oh, no,” Red said as he strolled into the apartment, “she’s calling you dude. That can’t be good.”

“Fuck off Red. I’m not in the mood,” I said, spinning around with my hands on my hips.

“Are you ever? I mean other than last night, obviously. And I had actually started growing some respect for you but now…” He swept his hand around as if the gesture said everything.

“You and the Neanderthal deserve each other,” I spewed at Bond.

I punched the big brute in the stomach, and he just laughed.

At six feet two, Red towered over me by a foot. Everything about him was big. He had a large head and huge hands, and even as much as I hated him, I wondered just how big his cock might be. He had small gauges in both earlobes and full lips. He kept his beard and hair shortly cropped, which highlighted the sharp planes of his face. Bond had dubbed him “Red” when they first met at their private high school. His hair fit the name; even the hair under his arms and on his chest was red.

He, like Bond, had one tattoo. His was much larger due to the sheer scale of his size and its location; the tattoo spread out across the top of his back between his shoulder blades. It was a green Celtic tree created by a complex series of knots that illustrated the trunk, roots, and branches.

I never understood the friendship between them, but they seemed to have a history that kept them close. Where Bond had flitted between different jobs and apartments over the years, Red seemed far more stable, owning a house and a successful investment firm.

“You’re still coming over to Red’s later, right?” Bond asked. “We can talk then.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. And when are you going to start hanging out somewhere else? Don’t you realize that your guard dog doesn’t like me?”

“How wrong you are about that, Jacqs,” Bond said.

I stared at both of them, absolutely sure they were just fucking with me, but I could have sworn Red’s ears went crimson.

“It’s time for you to leave, Little One,” Red said.

I hated when he called me that, but Neanderthal and Little One had become our snarky nicknames for each other.

“I’m going,” I said, grabbing my keys and purple hoodie off the entrance table on my way out.