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Quote by Amy Andrews

“Ryder cocked an eyebrow. “So that’s how you get men do your bidding.” She laughed, still looking into Tiny’s eyes. “By calling them good boy and offering them treats?” Ryder smiled. Her laugh made him happy. Hell, just looking at the woman made him happy. “Works for me.”

Quote by Amy Andrews

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Playing With Forever

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Amy Andrews

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“He’s obviously very well trained. He’s probably just confused about being handed around a bit and is acting out.” Ryder didn’t think Tiny was confused at all. That dog was smart as hell. He knew exactly what he was doing. He was enjoying putting Ryder through the ringer then acting all butter-wouldn’t-melt whenever a chick walked by in case he got to lick a cleavage or two. He was evil. An evil fucking genius.”

“I’m texting your picture, your name, and your address to one of my flatmates. In case I’m letting your beautiful building blind me to the fact you’re actually a serial killer.” To his credit, he didn’t look at her like she was crazy, just smiled. “I’m a reasonably famous rugby player. I’m on the TV. You can see my half naked ass on a billboard as you drive off the Sydney Harbour Bridge.” “What, you can’t be a serial killer as well?”

“So...just kissing ...?” If he was disappointed, he didn’t show it. Kudos to him. “Some feeling up is allowed, but nothing below the waist. And absolutely no sex.” Just saying it out loud was getting her all hot and bothered. Him too if the flare of his nostrils was any indication. God, she’d missed this. All of it. The flirting. The chase. The dance. Surprisingly she wasn’t even that rusty. It was all coming back to her. “So it’s making out. Like in high school.” “Exactly.” She smiled. “High school sucked.”

“Juliet stared at their reflection. One big hand lay flat against her belly, the other cupped and fondled her breast. Her nipples were a dark reddish-brown from the torment. She didn’t recognise the woman who stared back, her face all flushed, her mouth parted, her head fallen back against his chest having lost its capacity to support itself. “Juliet?” His urgent prompt dragged her gaze down, to where his finger pushed lower, disappearing entirely beneath her tights while his remaining fingers stayed firmly on the outside. It found the lacy edge of her underwear and stopped, brushing back and forth. “Just the one finger.” His voice was like gravel. “That’s all I need.” Juliet moaned and closed her eyes against the wickedly delicious thought of it— watching him get her off, with just one finger. That’s all I need. Fuck... Even his arrogance was sexy. She opened her eyes, thrilling at the sight of him pawing her, one hand on her breast the other down her pants. “Yes.” Her tongue flicked out to wet dry lips. “Hurry.” He smiled triumphantly, his nostrils flaring as his middle finger slipped under the barrier of her underwear. The waistband of her tights dragged lower, dipping in the middle, as he slid into the slick folds of her pussy. Juliet cried out at the delicious invasion, arching her back and curling her fingers into his neck. “Jesus Christ.” He pressed his face into her nape and groaned. It echoed down her spine and she shivered. “You’re so fucking wet.”

“Her gaze dropped to the zipper of his shorts, still sporting a significant bulge. “Think you can deal with that thing all by yourself?” “I think I can manage after twenty six years.” She lifted her chin in the direction of the Ziggurat tiling. “Cold shower?” “That’s one option. Although I do have an awesome new fantasy for my spank bank. It’d be a shame to waste it.” The thought of Ryder jacking off while he thought of her was wildly exciting. She’d love to be a fly on the wall for that. Or... “True. On the other hand you could not do anything about it. And I...a real live woman could help you out with it tomorrow night after poker. Think how much more intense it will be after you’ve denied yourself for a while.” The bob of his throat was visible from across the room. “Denial sucks.” “True. But I could make it worth your while.” He sighed. “If it doesn’t kill me first.”

“Did you jack off last night?” He swallowed, his throat undulating against her lips. “No.” “Really?” He wouldn’t be the first guy to lie about a quick wank. “Cross my heart. Got no sleep at all.” A surge of triumph shot through her system and her lips curved upwards. “You think” —she slid her hand between them and groped his dick through his shorts—“you’re going to last very long when I get on my knees and blow you?” Juliet revelled in both the unsteady timbre of his breathing and the feel of him in her hand. The power she had over him in this moment hit her right between the legs. “I think I will last an embarrassingly short amount of time.”

“He took it off, and she could see his hair was damp with sweat, as was his shirt on closer inspection. He mustn’t have bothered showering after his training session. Juliet’s belly tightened. There was just something about a sweaty man that had always done it for her. Good sweaty. Not the festering-for-hours-never-worn-deodorant kind. The healthy kind worked up through hard physical labour. The primal survival kind that attracted a woman to the type of man who could keep her in mammoth stew and furs. It clearly didn’t matter how sophisticated humans thought they were or how far they’d come. Hundreds of thousands of years of evolution and it still got down to how a man smelled. Mother Nature was one crazy bitch.”