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Male Order

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Sleeping with her flatmate, Sam had been a mistake--becoming a strip club manager's pimp was a disaster.

Meg’s mother can't even say the word sex. Her great aunt is a nymphomaniac. The few men she’s slept with left her frustrated.  The closest she’s come to sex was as the unwitting visual aid for hot flatmate, Sam’s, cowboy style, wanking session. No wonder her libido went on permanent vacation and she substitutes ice-cream and chocolate for sex.

With so many hang ups, why does she agree to no strings sex with Sam? Why is hunky, strip club manager Michael bent on seducing her? And why the hell does she invest in a male escort business offering extra services?

Sam’s delighted when he convinces Meg to let him go looking for her missing G spot. A ride on his wild stallion shows her how good sex can be...with the right man. One encounter leads to a dozen. Sam is living every man’s dream, sex with no commitment, too bad it’s not his dream.

His new life turns nightmare when Michael enters the scene. Will the Irishman steal her away, or will his involvement in her Male Order business lead to a disaster that gives Sam a chance to prove to Meg their relationship is more than a sexual rodeo?


A dull thud, thud, thud accompanied by yells of, “Yeehaw, ride ‘em cowboy,” made Meg roll her eyes and sigh loudly.
“For fuck’s sake, can you keep it down in there, literally?”
Laura glanced at her, then back at the bedroom door. “What’s he doing?”
Meg shook her head. “You don’t want to know.” She shuddered with mock horror at the memory.
“Really? Oh, please tell me, or I’ll have to go find out for myself.”
Laura got to her feet, a wicked gleam in her dark brown eyes. Geez, she would, too. Not that the sight of Sam laid back in a reclining chair, wearing only a cowboy hat and white socks, with his hand wrapped around his dick, jacking off like it was an Olympic sport, would freak her friend out. Hell no, she’d probably offer to ride him. She wasn’t about to let that happen. Sam was too good for the likes of Laura. He deserved a girl a little fussier about where she slept.
Meg jumped up and grabbed Laura’s arm, spilling coffee down the front of her own white shirt in the process. Shit, why couldn’t she do anything without making a mess of herself?
“If I tell you, will you sit back down and promise never to mention it to Sam?”
Laura retook her seat, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Oh, this is going to be really good.”
Meg glanced at the bedroom door. Despite her yelling at him to shut up, yips of pleasure still reached the lounge room.
“Go, baby, ride em. You got it.”
She looked back at Laura then stared at a slice of salami on the coffee table. It must be from the pizza Sam had after she went to bed last night. What a slob. An extremely well endowed slob, but a slob nonetheless.
“Well? Are you going to tell me or not?”
Meg sighed. “He’s jacking off.”
Laura snorted coffee all over the place. Choking, she banged her chest, tears streaming down her face. If Laura died from asphyxiation, she sure as hell wasn’t telling the paramedics Sam’s wanking caused her death.
Between gasping breaths Laura squeaked, “And you found this out how?”
Meg shrugged nonchalantly. No big deal really. He liked to jack off, a lot, and she wanted to see what had him yelling. How was she supposed to know what he was doing in there? She could feel the heat rising to her face at the memory.
She had shoved the door open and there he lay in all his glory, reclining chair toward her. The moment they made eye contact, a huge grin spread across his face as he continued to pummel his dick.
The thought of that monster in his hand still made her panties dampen and her insides throb. The head red and engorged, the shaft decorated with bulging veins, heavy balls bunched up tight between his widespread thighs. She’d been unable to move until he groaned and shot his wad all over his stomach. The memory of his warm spunk spilling from his cock made her squirm in her seat.
The spell had finally been broken when he winked at her, asking if she wanted to take a turn on his trusty steed. She had turned tail and run out of the house. Hiding in the mall for hours dressed in her food stained hot pink sweats and matching fluffy slippers.
“I went to check on him one afternoon when he got to yelling and I found him sitting in his chair jacking off. Anyway, I thought you were here to talk about work?”
Laura leaned forward, her face flushed. “So you’re not even going to tell me if he’s hung like a horse?”
Having Laura over was a mistake, she made no secret of the fact she liked Sam. Always going on about his buff body and rippling abs. No way was she going to add anything else to her best friend’s fantasy life, she already had an overactive imagination.
Despite all but chasing after him with drool running down her chin, Sam had shown no interest in her. She wondered why. With her heart-shaped face, willowy figure and immaculately styled long blonde hair, most men found her irresistible. Now she thought about it, Sam hadn’t just ignored her not so subtle advances but, as far as Meg remembered, the only dates he had since he moved in were with his right hand. Even if the women he met hadn’t seen him in all his naked glory, his cute smile and pale blue eyes would win him many loyal fans. They had sure as hell worked on her when he turned up in response to the landlord’s advertisement for someone to flat share with her. She glanced at Laura, who was wrapping a fat blonde curl around her finger and staring at her waiting for an answer.
Meg shrugged. “More like My Little Pony.” She was shocked at how easily and convincingly the lie slipped out without guilt or hesitation. “Now, can we please get back to our discussion?”
With a shrug, Laura put her coffee cup on the side table and pulled a pad and pen out of her bag. “Okay, we need a slogan for Wonder Bites.”
“I thought we did that already?”
“I ran them by Bill. His exact words were ‘you girls better get your shit together or you’ll be wearing sandwich boards advertising condoms in a brothel’.”
“Such a lovely turn of phrase, no wonder he’s in marketing. So did he hate both of them? I thought yours truly sucked. ‘Wonder Bites, good all the way from your mouth to the pan’.” She giggled at Laura as she pouted in response to her teasing.
“I was focusing on the health aspects of the cereal. Anyway you can’t talk. You would hardly win the Clio Award for advertising slogans with ‘Wonder Bites smell funky but taste real good’.”
“They do smell funky. I was just being honest. I’m getting sick of all the bullshit.” Meg stretched out the length of the couch and stared at the ceiling. She’d become fed up with peddling crap in New South Wales’ least successful ad agency. How many more lies could she couch in catchy slogans to sell garbage no one wanted? If only she had a product she believed in, or a job she enjoyed. “Laura, have you ever thought about doing something else for a living?”
“Every day, hun, I’ve even researched what else I could do with my skills.”
A kernel of an idea had been growing in Meg’s brain for weeks. Maybe Laura wouldn’t laugh if she told her. “I was thinking of going out on my own. You know, setting up my own business.”
“Doing what?”
Meg sighed. “That’s the big problem.”
Laura leaned forward into Meg’s peripheral vision. “Funny you should mention starting your own business. I’ve been thinking the same thing and I might just have an idea we could both use.”
The door to Sam’s room banged open. Meg glanced over at Laura. She’d lost her attention. Turning her head a little further, she could see why. There he stood. Skin glistening with sweat, his only attire a less than adequate white towel slung low on his hips and a cowboy hat on his head. Every step he took revealed the full length of his thigh, but thankfully not the full length of anything else.
He grinned at them, flashing a perfect set of pearly whites. “Ladies, what are you two plotting now?”
Meg crossed her arms over her chest. “How to kill noisy flat mates.”
She didn’t need to look to know he had moved closer. The scent of fresh sweat and musky cologne tickling her nose announced his arrival. His voice growled in her ear. “I think you enjoy hearing me almost as much as you enjoyed watching me. Maybe if you got out more you wouldn’t find my private life so stimulating. Unless you do really want me, but you’re too sexually repressed to let go.”
His face hovered above hers. Screw him. Why did he have to look so damn good when he had that smug expression on his mug? His blue eyes twinkled with amusement, his full lips quivered with barely contained laughter.
“For someone so ready to hand out dating advice, I can’t say I’ve noticed you being so lucky with the ladies of late.”
“Maybe I’m waiting for the right jockey.”
Meg grinned at him. “Or maybe you can’t find a jockey small enough to enjoy the ride.”
Her jibe missed the mark. He laughed before bending forward and brushing his lips against hers. His breath tickled her neck, making her shiver, as he whispered, “Perhaps you should slide in the saddle one night and take me through my paces. Then you would find out just how big my stallion really is.”
Hands on his shoulders, she shoved him away. It wasn’t the first time he had kissed her, but this time it had felt more intimate. Not the usual friendly peck and definitely part of his teasing. “Fuck off, Sam. We’re trying to work here.”

 Keep it Under Wraps

A sex scandal threatens to destroy reformed Hollywood bad boy Jonathon Deveraux. PI Georgina Stanvers can save him – if they can trust each other.

Cover by Jinger Heaston


Reformed Hollywood bad boy, Jonathon Deveraux, doesn’t remember starring in the DVD in his mailbox, and he’s not sure he trusts the female PI hired to find out where the movie came from.
Georgina Stanvers needs the work but she doesn’t like Jonathon. He’s a smooth talker, like the movie makers who ruined her father. She only suggests re-enacting the bondage scene to jar the actor’s memory. But untamed passion rewrites the script, and inhibitions are stripped away along with their clothing.
When bullets fly it appears an impending sex scandal is the least of Jonathon’s troubles. Needing to discover the truth, “George” puts her heart on the line, and her life in the hands of killers bent on revenge. If Jonathon is to prove his attraction to the PI is more than lust, he’ll have to save her. But first he needs to trust George, and his heart.


George swallowed, breathing deeply in an effort to slow her racing pulse. There he sat, on a bed. The bed. The one where the two ladies had tied him up and done to him what they would. Knowing what happened here should disgust her, but it didn’t. She had never thought being a voyeur was a turn-on. Porn did nothing for her, but she had to admit she’d watched the DVD more times than strictly necessary to solve the case. If she made the suggestion swirling in her brain would she be able to resist temptation? From the expression on Jonathon’s face, she got the impression he wouldn’t be disappointed if she didn’t.

“Perhaps a reenactment would help you remember something.”

His gaze met hers, and she took an involuntary step toward him. Dark eyes filled with desire held her enraptured. Now that she stood within reach, his hand circled her arm and tugged her to stand between his legs.

“Reenact how, exactly?”

George forced herself to break eye contact and stared at the headboard instead.

“You could lie on the bed, like in the video, and I could tie you up. It might trigger something?”

The smile teasing his lips left her in no doubt he had deliberately taken the last comment to mean something sexual. Is that what she meant? She didn’t know.

He agreed with a small nod, and she stepped back as he pulled off his boots. His socks came off with a quick tug then he began to slowly unbutton his shirt. Eyes locked on his, she fought not to drop her gaze to his chest as his tanned torso gradually came into view. The garment slid down his arms and he tossed it aside before getting to his feet. Battle lost, she took in his toned muscles, brown skin, and dark nipples erect from the cold, or maybe with lust. Her own nipples hardened in response, sending a shiver down her spine. She stood mesmerized as he slid his hands down his chest, over his stomach, before they came to rest on his belt buckle.

Her eyes focused on the oversized steel clasp. Fingers sliding behind the scuffed black leather, he started to tug the belt free. George took a deep breath and looked away. She was disgusted with herself. Lust may have melted her resolve, but she didn’t have to show it. What was wrong with her? She was practically drooling.
She dropped her bag to the floor and rummaged around inside, deliberately focused on what she was doing. “You don’t need to go all the way. How about you keep your jeans on, Tiger?” She glanced up at him and smiled. “I’d hate for you to catch a chill.”

With his belt unfastened and his button undone, he climbed on the bed, lying in the middle, arms by his side.
George finally retrieved what she was searching for. She stepped to the bed, and he moved from staring at the ceiling to see what she held in her hands.

“Handcuffs? But they tied me.”

“I don’t carry rope. Hands above your head.”

He moved his hands to rest them on the pillow. Her gaze shifted away from his sparsely haired armpits, tight pecs, and defined shoulders, to his face. He chuckled. “But you do carry handcuffs? For work or pleasure?”

She bit her bottom lip, determined not to let him bait her. Leaning across him, she closed the cuff around his left wrist before sliding it through the bars in the headboard and then fastening it around his right wrist. The effort caused her chest to brush against his face. When he rubbed his lips against her protruding nipple she gasped. Pushing herself back up to a standing position, she folded her arms. Both her nipples had beaded at his touch and now threatened to break through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. She made a mental note to always wear a bra in future.

“Lie still and concentrate. You won’t remember anything if you’re fooling around.”

He sighed and stared back at the ceiling. “I figured if this was a reenactment then fooling around would be the order of the day.”

God, he was right. How was having him lie on the bed seminaked supposed to achieve anything? So far all she had managed to do was turn herself on. The sight of his bare chest along with the soft hair that started below his belly button and thickened just above the zipper on his jeans wasn’t helping much either. The only one likely to have flashbacks was her.

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 Speak to Me of Abduction

After accepting a movie role, Charlene Paige, worries she might be the next rising porn star.  On reflection, that might have been safer.

Cover by Jinger Heaston


Stuck in Rio and desperate for cash, Australian backpacker Charlene accepts a minor movie role. When her co-star, Hollywood hunk and serial womanizer, Jonathon Deveraux is abducted from the set she turns to his older brother for help.

Oscar winner and Hollywood good guy Jacob Deveraux is a recluse. However, when his brother goes missing, he agrees to help the hapless backpacker who appears to have been deceived into taking a movie role so that Jonathon could woo her into his bed.  The more determined he is to keep his distance the more he is drawn to her.  When it becomes obvious his bother’s kidnapping is designed to punish Jacob he worries Charlene may be next.  Despite his best efforts to keep her safe she is grabbed off the street. Can he find and save his brother and Charlene or will he lose another woman he loves?


Charlene lifted her face to look at Jacob, expecting some explanation, but instead, her eyes locked with his, and she knew she was toast. 

His hands held her face as his mouth took possession of hers. The kiss was bruising. His tongue demanded entrance, and she was more than happy to comply. The sensation of his soft, warm tongue dancing with her own melted her resolve to keep her distance. The arms she initially held rigid at her sides wrapped around him. She slid her hands down his back to cup his backside and keep him tight to her. When he started to hum, it took the eroticism to a whole new level. All the kisses before had been good, maybe passionate, but this time nothing else mattered. This time she wouldn’t fight it. She had no idea where this was headed, but she wasn’t getting off the ride until the end. This wasn’t acting. This was real. The growing bulge in his jeans as he ground his pelvis into her, and the warmth between her thighs in response, weren’t make-believe. The pure desire in the kiss and the sensation of his fingers mapping her body heated her to the core. His hand grazed her breast through the thin fabric of her dress. He pinched her nipple, and it hardened at his touch. Her panties dampened as a wave of lust spread to her crotch. She wiggled a hand between them and palmed the front of his jeans. He was so hard, so ready. 

Opening his zipper, she squeezed a hand inside and wrapped her fingers around his erection. He groaned in response to her touch. Her grip tightened as he lifted her to rest her backside on the handrail. Grabbing her behind the knee, he pulled her leg over his hip before sliding a hand up her thigh, his fingers so close to her aching pussy. His featherlight touch made her shudder as it left a trail of goose pimples in its wake. She broke the kiss and gasped for air as his fingers continued their exploration. A light touch brushed across her damp, silk panties, tracing her slit. His mouth retook hers, swallowing her moan. Another glide of his fingers had her insides pulsing and her clit throbbing. If he stopped now, she would scream. All previous thoughts of not having sex with him evaded her. She needed him, and she needed him now. 

Pulling her hand from his jeans, she struggled to undo his belt and button. Finally, she eased his rigid shaft free. He felt magnificent and rock-hard. She explored his pulsating member. A glide of her fingers across the moist tip caused a rock of his hips that sent a jolt of desire straight to her heated center. Wet panties pushed roughly to one side, his fingers slid between her lower lips. The sensation as he ran a finger from her moist entrance to her hard clit made her core throb. Her insides ached to be filled with him. A firmer massage of her bud had her tugging his cock toward her. He offered no resistance as she guided him to her entrance. It seemed neither of them was in the mood to wait. The need had been building from the moment she saw him on the deck of his yacht, and now her passion knew no bounds. He broke the kiss and met her gaze. His eyes were dark and full of lust. Her own passion lifted a notch, her insides tightened, and she licked her lips. Their chests rose and fell in unison. 

Eyes locked on hers, he slowly slid inside her. Charlene gasped at the exquisite sensation of being completely filled by him. “Oh, Jacob, Jesus Christ.”

A smile tugged the corners of his mouth at her response. Hands resting on his shoulders, she dug her fingers into his flesh as she struggled to maintain her balance. Every thrust made her quiver. He pulled her leg higher and continued to draw circles around her clit, his rocking driving him ever deeper. She was mesmerized by the raw lust on his face. His eyes appeared even darker, his parted lips redder. 

Pushing her harder against the wall, he lifted the tempo with hips and hands. Fingers moved from soft circles over her nub to hard flicks that sent pulse after pulse through her pussy. The ball of fire in the pit of her stomach grew, and unable to hold back, she dropped one hand to the handrail for balance, and the other hand gripped his shoulder. Her release rolled the length of her core, and she closed her eyes as her whole body shook with each wave. She needed more. She needed all of him. Her efforts to impale him deeper inside her failed. Her precarious balance restricted movement.

Sweat trickled down her neck as she panted. Each pulse stronger than before, her climax seemingly endless as it ripped through her pussy. “Jacob, oh harder, please, harder.” 

Complying with her request, he ground himself into her, his dick penetrating her every inch, his fingers roughly drawing back and forth over her aching nub. Every touch sent another throb through her until she thought she would die. Finally, her orgasm slowed, and Jacob moved his hand from her center to cup her backside. Opening her eyes, she was enthralled by the look of pure exhilaration on his face as he thrust harder. Head back, his hair was damp with sweat. His voice deep and throaty, he groaned. “Oh so good, Charlie, oh so good, baby.” She felt his powerful release deep inside her, and her insides throbbed in response, milking his cock dry.

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Happy Birthday, Nancy Tobin

If you woke up on your 40th birthday to a half-naked twenty-six year old stud-muffin offering to light your candles, could you say no? Nancy Tobin can’t --and why would she want to?


Suddenly single on the eve of her fortieth birthday, Nancy Tobin’s not sure turning middle-aged is worth celebrating. She's stuck in a dead-end job as the boss’s bitch with only her morose Labrador for a companion. What does she have to party about? Maybe if she ignores the whole birthday thing, it will just go away.

Hot, twenty-six-year-old Jake Turner has other ideas. When he bumps into Nancy at the library, he sees a woman in need of a wake-up call. Determined to unleash the beauty hidden beneath the sad façade, he schemes to relight her spark. He wants to give her a birthday to remember but he ends up being the one who can't forget: a visit to his apartment becomes a weekend in his bed where he discovers an offbeat, unpredictable, sexually adventurous woman he never wants to let go.

With Jake, Nancy can do anything, her life can be whatever she chooses. But this new and exciting relationship teeters on the edge of destruction when her soon-to-be ex-husband reveals the reason for Jake’s initial interest in her. Can Nancy trust Jake when he finally tells her he loves her?


Jake rolled over, gently stroking her face and neck. He rested his warm fingers on her pulse point as he massaged her earlobe with this thumb. Frozen in the moment, Nancy continued to stare at the ceiling. She swallowed and blinked away the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks. His touch soothed her. He must want to break the news to her gently. No matter how tender he was, though, she couldn’t bring herself to look at him.
His warm breath moved her hair and tickled her cheek, his voice a husky whisper in her ear. “Nancy, look at me.”
Slowly turning her head, she stared at him as she waited for the other shoe to fall. No point in putting it off, it had only been a matter of time before he saw the light and wanted to call the whole thing off. No doubt he had finally realized making love to her would be like screwing his mother.
“Take your dress off.”
She wrinkled her brow as her brain tried to compute the command. “What?”
“I don’t want to ruin it, and I don’t want to wrestle you out of the damn thing.”
A grin twitched at the corners of his mouth and spread to his eyes. “Really, but I can only wait so long -- then the dress gets it.”
Nancy scrambled to her feet, her dress bunching around her hips. Jake’s gaze followed her hands as she smoothed the fabric over her thighs. He rolled onto his back and winked at her. Nancy dithered. If only he hadn’t stopped. Her insides twisted into knots. She was decidedly uncomfortable at the thought of being his personal stripper. Jake’s dark gaze drifted from her face to her breasts and back again. Her stomach churned with a mixture of excitement at the prospect of what lay ahead, and fear. Fear he would be disappointed when he finally saw her naked. She lifted a hand to her mouth and chewed on her thumbnail.
Jake got to his feet and, without a word, unbuckled his belt. The butterflies in Nancy’s stomach became a stampede of buffalo. He slowly slid his pants down his legs until they dropped to the floor along with his boxer shorts. Other than his socks, he now stood naked from the waist down. The front of his shirt tented as his erect cock pressed against the soft cotton fabric. One flick of her hand and she could free him and see what she had to play with. She dropped her hand from her mouth, yearning to reach out but balked at the thought of being quite so bold. She slowly devoured him with her gaze, moving from his white-socked feet to his strong thighs. She looked higher, and she bit her bottom lip at the sight of his heavy testicles hanging below the hem of his shirt. When she finally reached Jake’s face, he rewarded her with a slow, lopsided grin. Her heart raced, and a matching pulse beat in her crotch. She lowered her eyes. Could she do this?
Jake reached out and pulled Nancy closer. With his hands on her shoulders, he stepped behind her and unzipped her dress. He trailed his fingers across her naked back, and she shivered. When he pushed the soft velvet down her arms, she let it slide off and pool around her feet. She tilted her head to the side as Jake nuzzled her neck and playfully nipped her earlobe. The sharp pain released a wave of pure lust that rolled through her center. His erection pressed against her backside. Unable to hold back, she let out a low moan. Her whole body throbbed with desire, every nerve ending highly sensitized. His touch made her nipples tighten and her pussy quiver. Freed from the dress, she turned to face him, fighting the desire to hide her scantily clad breasts with her arms so he wouldn’t be disappointed. But he smiled at her, his dark eyes mesmerizing, his erection standing prouder than before. The sight of her seminaked boobs hadn’t cooled his ardor in the least. The thought of being impaled on him made her groin muscles spasm. Even partially covered, he was stunning, and she wondered if his erect cock reached his belly button.
He wiggled a finger and raised an eyebrow suggestively. “Come here.”
With one small step, Nancy slid into his embrace and lifted her face up to look at him. He nipped her lips with his teeth, then slanted his mouth over hers, demanding entrance with this tongue. She buried her hands deep in his soft, dark hair. Every thrust of his warm tongue caused her insides to tighten with desire, and she gripped his head, determined to hold on to him forever. She only became aware he had unhooked her bra when he broke the kiss and stepped back from her, taking the lacy garment with him. He dropped his prize to the floor with a look of triumph and fell to his knees to cup her breasts. When he grazed her nipples with his thumbs she leaned forward to rest her hands on his shoulders, forgetting to breathe. He flicked one with his tongue before biting gently with his teeth. Nancy dug her nails into his skin and leaned harder on him for support, the throb between her thighs making her light-headed and weak at the knees. Her reaction brought another nip. Jake’s hum of approval echoed her moan. He gently massaged the dark brown bud with his tongue. After dropping a slow, languid kiss on each breast, he lifted his gaze to hers and smiled.

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