Hello, friends! As the title of my blogpost implies, this is a long overdue update from me. I'm sure many of you have noticed that I've been pretty quiet lately. A handful of people are aware of the reason for me not being around as much as I used to be. I decided it was time--way past time--to share my story with everyone.
I'm not someone who really likes to talk about my struggles, particularly health related. It just feels like I'm being a big bummer downer if I unload that stuff on anyone. Which is why I tend to either downplay what's going on, or even joke about it. I won't do that this time, though. For a couple of reasons. Number one: I owe you guys the unvarnished, vulnerable me for this one. No sugarcoating the situation. Number two: this post might actually help others. I hope it does.
Some necessary background first. About two years ago, I noticed that my inflammation issues were getting progressively worse. Additionally, I was exhausted all of the time and would lose my focus constantly. Fibro runs in my family, so I figured it could be that, along with chronic fatigue. Then the 90 minute hot flashes arrived. I'd get them several times a day. Okay, maybe it's perimenopause. (Sorry, yes, this post is likely to get TMI. We're all adults here. <~~~I know, who thought those words would ever come out of my mouth? UGH!) Anyway, I figured I had my culprit. Or culprits, as the case might be. And it might very well have been the case to a degree, but it didn't occur to me then that there could be something else behind it all. Stirring the shitpot, so to speak.
My symptoms continued, the constant brain fog increasingly getting worse. There would be weeks when I'd be sitting at my computer and be forced to re-read what I'd just typed a second ago. I was in the middle of one of these unfocused spells when I was hit with what I can only describe as a red-hot drill bit being forced into my temples and my brain. A severe hot flash hit me at the same time, only this time it was accompanied with a strange pressure in my head and a tremor throughout my body that wouldn't stop. Terrified out of my mind by what was happening, I crawled to the bathroom, on the verge of either passing out or puking. All I knew was something was very wrong with me. As soon as I could get the energy to make it to the phone, I would call for an ambulance. I include this part because anyone who knows me knows that I'm a real stubborn jackass and it takes a lot to convince me to even see a doctor. The fact that I was even considering a trip to ER was very terrifying for me.
Almost the instant I was inside the bathroom, the sensations in my head lessened and the tremors stopped completely. I didn't trust myself to move, so I continued to lay on the floor until I felt well enough to go for my cellphone. The moment I touched my phone, the sensations returned. Only this time I could literally feel an electrical sensation pass from my phone, travel through my arm, and jab right into my eardrum, intensifying that red-hot drill bit in my brain. I pulled my hand away from my phone, and the sensation eased off again. I wouldn't say I had a lightbulb moment right then, but I did think it was odd and more than a slight coincidence that I sometimes felt sick if I spent more than an hour on my cellphone. Right then I started thinking about what else I spent a lot of time on. Way more than my cellphone. Something I had been using right up until the red hot drill bit made an appearance. My laptop. The same device I was always so brain fogged around.
Despite the signs my body had been giving me for years, I'd never once considered that I might have a sensitivity to electronic devices. To be honest, while I didn't scoff at people who claimed EMF radiation was a potential health hazard, I did think maybe they were making a mountain out of a mole hill. I can absolutely say now that isn't the case. Not for me, anyway. And I suspect it's the same for many others out there who are electro-sensitive. Many who might not even realize it. That brings me back to my primary reason for sharing my story. If you notice something doesn't feel right in your body when you're around certain devices, PAY ATTENTION. That migraine or brain fog once in a while might not be linked to a sensitivity, but if it's happening all of the time it could definitely be a link.
It's took me another six months and then some to recover and heal from the toxic overload I'd unknowingly exposed myself to. I'm not cured by any means, though. I'm what is termed EHS. I have a hyper sensitivity to EMFs, wifi being the worse for me. A lot of folks out there would like you to believe this isn't a real thing. I get why. Until something like this happens to you, it's easy to think it's mumbo jumbo. I wish with every ounce of my being that it was mumbo jumbo.
Living with EHS is not easy. Sometimes it feels like a living hell. Short of bunking in a cave, I'm always going to have some exposure to EMFs. The toughest part for me is the toll it can take on me on an emotional level. The chronic fatigue and brain fog have improved since making some necessary lifestyle changes. No more wireless computing. Everything is hardwired now. But even with that my tolerance can be limited. I don't get to chat with my friends--with you guys--as much as I would like. I'm able to write half the words I used to in a sitting, if I'm lucky. And believe me, coming up with those words was tough enough without adding the EHS into the mix. My book deadlines have suffered massively. Which only makes me feel worse. I know I've let many of you down. If you have a pre-ordered book you're waiting on I deeply apologize for making you wait. I hate doing that to you, more than you could ever know. All I can say is I'm doing what I can every day to get them closer to done. I will not sacrifice quality and put out a subpar book that doesn't have my heart and love in it. You guys deserve the best from me and that's a promise I will always honor. My goal is still to have Double Dirty released before or shortly after the new year. I love the crazy, wonderful ride Andie and her wild Sullivan boys are taking me on. I hope you love it too! And for all of my dear, amazing friends and loved ones who've pulled me out of some pretty ugly funks this whole trying time--I love and appreciate you all so much. I truly don't know what I'd do without you.
So, now that I've bummed y'all out with my big bummer self, I'm going to sign off on this epically long post and get my butt in chair writing something other than epically long bummer downer posts.
Lots of love and hugs,
Monday, January 7, 2019
I have a new release, y'all! Triple Knockout is the third installment in the Make Mine A Menage series. It's a completely stand alone book, but I DO have the first book, The Naughty List free at several retailers right now. It's a great time to pick it up if you haven't already. I'm also running a giveaway for a $25 Amazon giftcard to celebrate my newest release, so make sure you enter via the handy dandy Rafflecopter at the end of this post.
Triple Knockout is the first MMF pairing I've written in this series, and lemme tell you, these three characters are some dirty birdies. LOL. But they're also fun and so sweet together, they might have made me cry a time or two. Yes, I'm a HUGE sap! I hope that y'all fall in love with Allie, Van, and Beau as much as I did!
Allie Saunders has a dirty secret. Make that two fantastically filthy secrets: Beau Colton and Van Mitchell. The leading stars of her fantasies also happen to be her brother’s best friends. Hello, big fat hairy complication. It’s no mystery why her unrequited crushes insist on keeping her at arm’s length, but it doesn’t stop her from wishing for the impossible.
When she discovers their dirty secret, the once forbidden is suddenly a tantalizing temptation and the key that could turn her dreams into a reality.
In addition to being co-owners of a boxing gym, Van and Beau share mutual tastes outside of the ring—they’re both Doms. That’s partly the reason for their unbreakable Bro Code where Allie is concerned. She’s far too sweet and innocent for the edgy games they enjoy. Or so they thought. Their assumption—and willpower—is about to be tested. Big time. All courtesy of an annual Sub-For-A-Night charity event, and the irresistible, thoroughly off-limits woman who just stepped onto the auction block...
Warning: This wickedly hot MMF ménage contains two deliciously dirty boxers, a not-so-innocent dirty-talking heroine, dirty rope tricks, and dirty ways to break a sweat. Who says exercise can’t be fun?
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The Naughty List is currently free at:
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Wednesday, September 19, 2018
A wild swingers club is usually the last place Grace Jennings would spend a Friday night. And she certainly wouldn’t invite rough around the edges tattoo artist, Dalton McDermott, as her date. But thanks to a PI job she’s taken on, she needs the perfect bad boy to go undercover with. Just not under those covers. Not that she isn’t tempted. Dalton is one hot package of scrumptious sin. He’s also an arrogant, dirty-tongued devil who's far too skilled at getting beneath her skin. Still, for the sake of her career, she’ll play nice. All while keeping her panties firmly in place.
The sassy and mouthy Grace is precisely not the type of woman Dalton goes for. So why in the hell does she make him sweat like no other? There’s only one solution to solving a problem like Grace—screw her out of his system and get the hell out of Dodge. But the deeper the two of them delve into the erotic charade they’ve created, the tougher the prospect of walking away becomes.For two people who come from opposite worlds, love shouldn’t be on the radar. So why does faking it suddenly feel all too real?
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It's officially the release day for Bad Boys Do It Better!!! *happy dance and Muppet flail* I know a lot of Y'all have been waiting FREAKIN' FOREVER for this book to come out and I really appreciate your patience and support this whole time. I hope the wait was worth it and you fall in love with Dalton and Grace as much as I did! So I'm going to kick off this release with a celebratory giveaway. For your shot at a $25 Amazon GC just enter via the handy-dandy Rafflecopter below. Good luck!
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Monday, April 3, 2017
I'm not too proud to admit there might have been some inappropriate spooning going on between me and my latest release the second I hit the "publish" button. *eyebrow waggle* That's because the new release is Frisky Business. AKA: the book responsible for giving me endless grief in countless ways. There was a looooooooooong wait for this book to see the light of day. And I'm forever grateful for my amazing readers for being so patient and supportive during the whole process of getting this book out there.
Jane and Jack's story was a big one for me. I'd teased the promise of their story throughout the Kinky Chronicles journey, and I knew these two characters deserved a big bang. Heh, I think Jane and Jack would heartily agree with that. *more eyebrow waggling* I wanted this book to be everything I'd promised and more. I wanted to do right by my readers and give them the full Jane and Jack experience, in all of it's raunchy, funny, thoroughly fucked up glory. It was a tall order to tackle, lemme tell ya. But I think the book is exactly what I set out to accomplish. I hope I did Jane and Jack proud. I hope I did my readers even prouder.
As the owner of Hunks for Hire, Jack Brewster is used to the raunchy requests that land in his inbox. Bondage and blindfolds? Par for the course. But Jane’s email whispers a wicked enticement. A sane man would delete the message. Or send his best escort to the date armed with a steel cup. Only problem? The thought of Jane naked and bound beneath any guy but him is like a knife in Jack’s gut.
He doesn’t do commitments. And he sure as hell doesn’t do love and Happily Ever Afters. He was a fool before in that regard. Never again. But he can indulge in a taste. Then he’ll walk away from Jane. For good.
But eating forbidden fruit has its addictive consequences, and two stubbornly anti-love sinners are about to take the biggest fall of them all.
Warning: This book contains an irredeemable bad girl, an ex-gigolo who can give the Kama Sutra some pointers, and a sweet, dirty, and thoroughly complicated love story long overdue.
To celebrate this long-awaited release, I'm running a giveaway for a $25 Amazon GC and an ARC of the next Kinky Chronicles installment once it's completed. Entry is via the Rafflecopter below. Good luck!
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Monday, August 22, 2016
Several months ago I was invited by my good friend, Sable Hunter, to participate in the launch of her Hell Yeah! Kindle World. Well, I'm thrilled beyond words that we are now live! Yeehaw! My contribution--Cowboy Kinky--is a crossover from my Kinky Chronicles universe. If you read K(ink)y Curves then you'll recognize the hero and heroine. ;) I'll share an except in a bit, but also make sure to check out all of the other awesome Hell Yeah! KW stories by visiting the handy-dandy links below.
Cowboy Kinky ~ Jodi Redford ~ http://amzn.to/2bcfBpL
Her Hell Yeah Cowboy ~ Donna Michaels ~ http://amzn.to/2bfTrVF
Cowboy's Break ~ Lexi Post ~ http://amzn.to/2bAnj18
Saddle and a Siren ~ Randi Alexander ~ http://amzn.to/2bq8fmc
Man of My Heart ~ Desiree Holt ~ http://amzn.to/2bwWzjw
Cadillac Cowboy ~ Cynthia D'Alba ~ http://amzn.to/2bfUPYD
Until There Was You ~ Ciana Stone ~ http://amzn.to/2bbU1GV
Seducing Sarah ~ Maddie James ~ http://amzn.to/2bAoo99
Gun Shy ~ Sabrina York ~ http://amzn.to/2bqabv7
The Song of Her Sighs ~ Lana K Dempsey ~ http://amzn.to/2bqahTn
Boardroom Cowboy ~ Kandi Silvers ~ http://amzn.to/2bqaupD
Ford Beckett—former adult film star and leading man in Kaitlin Cross’s kinky fantasies. There’s only one problem: he’s her boss. As his PA, she puts in plenty of overtime just keeping him out of the doghouse with the numerous ladies warming his sheets. Her biggest fantasy involves clubbing him with a blunt object. But lately he’s been getting under her skin and pushing the boundaries of their relationship. The scary part? She’s beginning to enjoy it. What she desperately needs is some breathing room between herself and temptation. A friend’s wedding provides the perfect excuse to get the heck out of Dodge. Except for one tiny hiccup… Ford is the best man.
Two decades ago, Ford left Texas with no plans of returning, but friendship and loyalty have called him home. He won’t turn his back on those who’ve stood by his side, even though there are plenty who’d prefer his boots never stepped on Texas soil again—including his family. Then there’s his biggest problem of all. Kait. Giving in to the blazing chemistry between them? A disaster waiting to happen, but avoiding calamities isn’t exactly his strong suit. That’s why he’s always relied on Kait to put out the fires in his love life. Seeing how she’s the one making him sweat? Yeah, consider him screwed.
Hot Texas nights and irresistible desires. Two stubborn hearts don’t stand a chance of avoiding the flames. The only question is will they survive the afterburn?
There are some things guaranteed to stay imprinted on a woman’s brain for the rest of her life.
First kiss? Check.
First love? Double check.
First sexual experience? Triple check.
First glimpse of her boss’s naked ass? Quadruple check, and Lord have mercy.
Hypnotized by the spectacle taking place right before her eyes, Kaitlin Cross white-knuckled the kitchen counter and swallowed hard. On the other side of the window, Ford Beckett—the number one source of her daily frustration and desire to drink—stretched his arms over his head and twisted his broad shoulders a smidge to the right, his rock hard glutes and sleek back muscles flexing. He repeated the motion, this time to the left.
So help her God, if he bent to touch his toes she’d be done for. Dead on arrival. Shock paddles wouldn’t revive her.
Every inch of him was absolute Grade A bronzed perfection. Not a single tan line anywhere. Despite that mouthwatering fact, in the nearly five years she’d been working as his PA she’d never once seen him sunbathe in the nude. Until today.
She should look away. For her sake, not Ford’s. The shameless devil wouldn’t give a flying squirrel’s butt about her ogling his ass. He’d shown off a hell of a lot more than his firm tush in the dozens of XXX-rated films he’d starred in before moving out of the spotlight and starting his own production company. Knowing him, he’d probably turn around and flash the whole monty if he suspected she was peeping on him. Thank God he didn’t—
Cursing under her breath as he pivoted, she quickly sidled toward the cupboards. Close call. A loud splash a few seconds later announced his dive into the pool. Deciding to risk it, she peeked toward the window just as he surfaced. He slicked back his glossy sable hair and glanced toward the house. Even from this distance she could make out the wicked sparkle in his eyes and the wolfish hint of his teeth.
Sonofabitch. He’d set her up with this peep show. She’d bet her entire month’s salary on it. This little stunt went right in line with the numerous ways he’d been messing with her lately. For the last month and a half he’d jumped on every conceivable opportunity to tease and torment her. It’d all started that damn day she’d lost her cool and pushed him into the pool. Instead of accepting her threat that she was finally quitting for good, he’d hauled her into the pool with him. Then, in his eternal quest to ruffle her feathers and throw her off balance, the goddamn maniac kissed her.
Worst of all? She couldn’t stop thinking about the hot pressure of his lips against hers. Jeez Louise, it hadn’t even been that great of a kiss. Barely lasted a second. But that solitary second tipped her world off kilter. Although he hadn’t tried to kiss her since, every once in a while she’d catch him looking at her a certain way. Like he was not only considering it, but planned to thoroughly annihilate her equilibrium in the process.
God save her if that happened.
She wanted to believe she could hold her shit together and resist him. She was not a weak woman, for crying out loud. But Ford Beckett was no mere mortal. The man could charm the panties off of a nun. She’d heard plenty of tales about his legendary status between the sheets. Or in his case, pretty much every venue known to mankind and accessible to a film crew. Despite her overwhelming curiosity, she deliberately refrained from watching any of his old movies—for the sake of her sanity and so she’d be able to look him in the eye every day at work. There were some things she was better off not seeing. His O face during one of his countless money shots topped high on the list. Still, it hadn’t kept certain jackwagon colleagues from sharing tidbits with her. Like apparently Ford was quite the multitasker. Not only could he please two women at once, he could do it while riding a horse. How the ever living hell was that remotely possible? Did three people even fit on a horse? Was there a midget involved? And goddamn it, no, she refused to find out.
Narrowing her eyes, she watched him swim toward the opposite end of the pool, the crystal blue water rippling in his wake.
He was up to something. And she didn’t trust him for one hot second. She grabbed her coffee mug from its perch beneath the Keurig’s dispenser and stalked in the direction of his home office. Though truthfully, she tended to think of it more as their office. She spent more time in it than he did. When you got right down to it, she spent more time in it than she did her own condo. Maybe she should move in and be done with it. But then she’d have to deal with Ford 24/7. She barely resisted the urge to strangle him as it was. For sure she’d be in some major trouble if she lived in the same house with him. Not to mention she’d have no reprieve from the pesky, inappropriate fantasies he stirred in her. The ones that didn’t involve potential murder charges being brought against her. She could handle those other kind. It was the ones that left her aroused and in need of a serious session with her vibrator that proved hazardous to her wellbeing.
Bad enough having sinful thoughts about her boss. The fact that her boss was Ford—a man who had longer relationships with the ham sandwich he had for lunch that any woman he slept with? Yeah, she should have her head examined.
Or better yet, find a guy to end her seven-month dry spell. That had to be her problem. Since breaking up with Russ, she’d put entirely no effort into dating. Partly that was due to the crazy production schedule with Ford’s newest project. The spicy, adults-only show was doing better than any of them predicted, earning the coveted title of most-watched late night series on the air for their network—something they were all ecstatic about. But the show’s success also came with the price of none of them having a life for the last few months.
Now that they were on their mid-season hiatus? She was getting laid. Plain and simple. And taking a damn vacation. Hell, she’d get laid on vacation. No strings attached. No awkward morning after. No having to see the guy again. Freakin’ perfect. Best part of all? A whole week of not being subjected to Ford’s ass—naked or otherwise—tempting her with impure thoughts.
Pumping her fist, she walked into their office...and stalled short when she spotted his camo PJ bottoms draped across her seat. Approaching the garment with all the caution she would a crouched lion, she inched forward and pinched the dangled leg between her fingertips. Oh Lord. The flannel was still warm from his body. And she didn’t have to press the fabric to her nose to get a good whiff of the woodsy body wash that constantly killed her concentration whenever he insisted on crowding into her personal space. Which was pretty much every other second. It was impossible to focus when his bigger-than-life presence invaded her senses. To add fuel to the fire, she always dredged up the craziest scenarios in those situations. Especially when they were in the office together.
The fantasy her twisted subconscious loved to latch onto? Ford spanking her. If he tried such a thing in real life she’d go ballistic on his ass. Seriously, the only way they’d recognize him afterward would be through his dental records. But for some reason her mind insisted on going there. She could see it too clearly.
He’d do something to piss her off—because hello, that was damn well guaranteed—and she’d rip into him. Instead of cocking that infuriating grin of his that always made her teeth grind, he’d plunk down in his chair calm as can be and tug her across his lap. Before she could cuss him out properly, his palm would land on her butt with enough sting to earn her gasp. She’d squirm to avoid the paddling, but the movement only made things worse by rubbing her crotch against his thigh. Within seconds, her clit would be at attention, tingling and greedy for more intense friction. Desperate to ignore the traitorous demands of her body, she’d bite her lip, killing her whimpers before they ratted her out. Little good it did. Somehow Ford knew precisely how her body betrayed her, and being the devil he was, he intended to take advantage of it.
Without saying a word, he’d yank up her skirt and massage her reddened buttcheek through the lace of her panties before sliding his hand inside. His touch on her bare skin? Indescribably sinful and forbidden. She shouldn’t, but she wanted more than the lazy glide of his fingertips across her rear-end. She craved a bolder caress, down where she ached for it most. As if he’d read her mind, he’d trail his hand lower, tracing the crack of her ass, and then gliding his fingers along her pussy. By that time she’d be embarrassingly drenched, and the bastard would let her know it in no uncertain terms, swirling through her wetness so that the air would be thick with the incriminating slick sounds of her arousal. All the while he played with her, the hard bulge poking into her belly taunted her, promising even more exquisite pleasures to come. All she had to do was reach down and—
“Damn, darlin’. Next time wait ‘til I’m in my flannels before you start fondlin’ them.”
Friday, July 29, 2016
10 Hot Tattooed Alpha Men and the Curvy Women They Love. Let these bad boys sweep you off your feet in this bestselling boxed set! From billionaires to shifters, there’s a book boyfriend for everyone.
Google Play: http://bit.ly/1XWTM45
All Romance: http://bit.ly/1Qcgpyr
Amazon UK http://amzn.to/25YSeuS
Amazon CA http://amzn.to/1Ue7oGN
Amazon AU http://amzn.to/1Ue7oGN
My contribution to the set is K(ink)y Curves. For those of you who've read my Kinky Chronicles series you'll see some familiar faces and meet some new ones. I hope you fall in love with these characters as much as I have. Here's an exclusive look!
Charlie Cross is the reigning queen of dirty talk. As a phone sex operator, she’s fielded every kink and fetish in the book. Nothing fazes her. Okay, not entirely true. There’s one client who’s gotten under her skin. Grady. He’s dangerously close to peeling back the layers she’s worked so hard to keep hidden. And the last thing she needs is for him to discover the truth—how completely imperfect she is.
Grady The Grinder Montana. With a name like that he must be a stripper, right? Guilty as charged. He’s damn good at it too. Forget moves like Jagger, his make the Benjamins rain. Women scream his name every night. On stage or in bed, the result’s the same. Not one damn bit of it matters, though. The only real thing in his life is Charlie. With her he’s only Grady. The Grinder doesn’t exist. Their relationship is uncomplicated, liberating, and...perfect.
Until the day their worlds crash together. No illusions. No safety nets. Just two damaged, dirty, perfectly imperfect people about to fall hard. Love isn’t always pretty. Sometimes it’s messy and real. And exactly what you need.
Slipknot’s latest CD soundtracked his drive home. Thank God for heavy metal. Better than caffeine at keeping him awake behind the wheel. He pulled into his single reserved space across from his apartment unit and killed the engine. Only other signs of life were the swarms of fishflies invading the nearby light pole. Those damn insects were way more energetic than he was at the moment.
Not that long ago, dragging his ass home at one in the morning had been a lifestyle choice. Back then, he’d walk into walls after imbibing a few too many adult beverages. Damn miracle if he made it to his bed before passing out. The only cause for him staggering through the door these days? Exhaustion. Pure and simple.
He tossed his keys in the general direction of the console and kicked off his sneakers. Smothering a yawn with his fist, he trekked to his hidey-hole of a bedroom cubbied in the corner of his equally tiny studio. Yeah, the place was barely bigger than a closet, but it didn’t come with a belligerent old man who enjoyed cracking him one with a beer bottle. He flopped on top of the mattress without bothering to remove his jersey track pants. “I’m getting too old for this shit.”
At twenty-six and some change, he was far from being the youngest dancer at the club. Not that he was ready for the stripper retirement home yet, but night’s like this his joints gleefully reminded him who was boss. He crooked an arm over his eyes and exhaled wearily.
He must have dozed off because his snore woke him a second later. Groaning, he dropped his hand and glanced toward the alarm clock. Two a.m. Shit. He’d fallen asleep and missed his call to Charlie.
An odd emptiness settled in the pit of his stomach. He never missed a night. Stalling in mid thought, he replayed that realization. Holy hell, that made him sound like a major pervert. Daily phone sex for the past year. No wonder he was always broke.
But it wasn’t only about the sex. There were plenty of times they didn’t even get each other off. They’d talk about movies and weird but extremely important stuff, like whether or not Scrappy Doo is one of the most annoying cartoon characters of all time. Spoiler alert—he is. In the last several months their conversations had become increasingly more intimate and deep.
She knew things about him that he never shared with anyone, including how he’d lost his virginity at fourteen in an attempt to anesthetize away his pain over his mom’s cancer diagnosis. In turn, Charlie told him about her own grief and struggle with her grandma’s passing. Particularly how rough the last few months were, when the Alzheimer’s made Charlie and her sister, Kaitlin, strangers to their grandma. He and Charlie had bonded over their experiences, growing closer than ever. Despite that, he didn’t talk about his dad. She didn’t know about The Grinder. He didn’t want those things to ruin what they had, so they’d remain locked away in his chest of unspoken things.
Plowing his hands through his hair, he stared at the ceiling. Great. Now he was wide awake and wired. Like a junkie a week out from his last fix. Only in this case it meant getting through the night without hearing her voice. How was that remotely doable?
Listen to yourself. You sound like a crazy person. Just pop a damn sleeping pill and be done with it.
He peered at the glowing numerals on the clock. Two a.m. wasn’t all that late. Sure, for normal people, maybe. But not them. Odds were good she was still awake. If not, he’d leave a message and apologize for missing their time. It’d be the decent thing to do.
The constricting heaviness lifting from his chest, he dug his cellphone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts for Charlie’s 800 number. He pressed the Send button, relief already working its magic on him.
Two rings got through before her husky, slightly sleepy voice rasped across the line. “Hello, McHorny.”
He grinned at the nickname she’d christened him with after their spirit animal chat. “How did you know it was me?”
“Who else would call me at two in the morning?”
“Oh, I dunno. Maybe one of your other clients who is way less awesome and horny than me?”
She snorted. “If that last part was true I doubt they’d be calling me, smarty pants.”
“Well, see, that just proves they are lacking in the awesome department. I’d call you even if I wasn’t horny.”
“So you’re saying you’re not?”
“Mm, let’s not get crazy here.” He rested his hand on his belly and drummed his fingers. “But seriously, is it too late to talk? I was going to leave a message. Didn’t want you to think I’m some huge jackass who stands up his phone sex goddess.”
“Goddess, huh? Someone is trying to butter me up.”
“What’s this, you say? Slather your delicious body with warm melted butter and then ride you like a sexy Slip N Slide? Okay, you twisted my arm.” Distracted by the enticing visual in his head, he trailed his hand lower on his abdomen. His cock stood at attention, an always eager and primed participant in their conversations. Rather than give in to its beckoning call, he ignored his dick. Anticipation was half the fun, right? He propped one foot on top of the other and inspected the crooked toe seam on his sock.
“Or there’s this little thing called massage oil,” Charlie offered, breaking through his perusal. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
“Nah, I’m kinda digging the idea of butter now.”
“Uh huh. Why do I have the feeling this is going to segue into butt sex?”
Her suspicious tone prodded a chuckle from him. “Hey, I didn’t say anything about that. Clearly you’re the guilty party who’s watched Last Tango in Paris one too many times.”
“Ah ha! So you admit you were at least thinking about it.”
“I’m a guy. Butt sex crosses my mind several times a day. Usually at the most inconvenient moments, too. Like when I’m in an elevator full of nuns.”
“Really? How in the world did that come about?”
He’d been on strip-o-gram duty. Private bachelorette party at the MGM Grand Detroit. Who knew what the nuns were doing there? Maybe trying their luck at the blackjack table. “Can’t recall. Blocked the whole traumatic thing from my mind.”
“Poor baby. We can’t have you suffering flashbacks. Now back to this erotic Slip N Slide you mentioned. It sounds an awful lot like a Nuru massage.”
“You’re kidding me. I’ve actually discovered something McHorny hasn’t heard of?”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you pumping your fist in victory right now?”
“Well, since you’ve already got the pumping action going, I have something else you can workout with. Your own personal dick dumbbell, if you will.”
“Aw, you’re too generous.”
“I know. Always a giver. And a grower.” He finally relented and slid his hand past his waistband. Wrapping his fingers around his cock, he closed his eyes.
Because I'm an evil author, I'm going to leave you hanging there. Yes, I'm a horrible tease. ;)