(Jessa Woods, #1)
Today’s dirty word is…
Jessa Woods has made it her career to educate others about sexual health. Whether it’s simple techniques, exploring sexuality, or spicing up relationships, her radio show, Dirty Words, is a local go-to for all things sexy.
Her personal life, however, isn’t so hot. With a jam-packed schedule and her work first and foremost on her mind, Jessa has little time to date, and her best friend, Jen, fears she’s become cynical.
When Jen slips her iPad full of steamy romance novels in Jessa’s bag before her big trip to a radio show festival, Jessa is less than impressed. However, after scanning a few titles and really looking at what these books have to offer, she realizes she may have been too quick to judge. After all, what’s the harm in examining some of these tropes?
Enter Dylan Masters, the always sexy radio engineer, who offers to explore them with her. Jessa’s always had a thing for Dylan, but she’d never cross that line with a coworker, and more importantly, a friend.
Well, except for that one time at the company Christmas party…
When Dylan proposes a weekend of hot, no expectations sex, Jessa’s determined to take the advice she so often gives and let loose. But she soon realizes their time together could end in total disaster.
Or, she may just come face to face with the dirtiest word of all…love.
Jessa looked around for something to cover herself with, but the knocking only grew more insistent. She hobbled on weak legs over to the door, opening it only a tiny bit so she could poke her head out while still keeping her naked body hidden.
Dylan stood there, sexy as hell in a black tank top and loose grey shorts, with both hands above his head as he leaned on the doorframe. “You’ve got to stop.”
“I can hear you…and…you can’t do this to me.”
“I’m not doing anything to you.”
“Excuse me?” Dylan’s eyes bored into hers, raw and electric. He took a step closer and lowered his voice so much she could barely hear him. “Jessa, I know what you’re doing. I can hear you. Through the wall.”
Jessa realized his face was dark red, his breathing heavy and ragged, and he sported a major hard-on that pressed against his shorts, begging to be let free. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think you were back yet. I figured you’d be down there with the blonde. Anyway, I have to try these new products, so—”
“I’m not interested in her and you know it.”
“The way she was throwing herself at you, I assumed…”
“I only want one woman right now, and it’s not her. And you don’t have to be sorry. You aren’t doing anything wrong. Just, please, keep it down. It was hard enough looking at you all night in that dress, imagining those black heels digging into my ass, and now I have to hear you get yourself off? It’s too much. There isn’t a man alive who could take this kind of abuse.”
She took a deep breath and debated what to say next. A smart girl would shut the door and go back to her business. Turn on the TV so he couldn’t hear anything, get off, and then go to sleep. Yes, a smart girl would already be back on the bed with her hands between her legs, guiding the toy over her sweet spot. By herself. But Jessa was sick and fucking tired of being smart. Her head hurt, her sex ached, and she knew exactly who she wanted to make her come. To make her scream. To fuck her so good she wouldn’t be able to stand. Dylan. “So…help me.”
“You heard me.”
“Are you sure?” He swallowed hard, his eyes heavy with lust and need. He wanted her. She could see it all over his face. “Because, babe, if I come in there, if we start this up again, I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop this time.”
She stepped back and opened the door, hoping like hell nobody would decide to take that moment to walk down the hallway to fetch some ice. “Don’t I look sure?”
Dylan growled, yes, he fucking growled, and stormed inside her room. He slammed the door behind him, ripping his black tank top up and over his head, then throwing it to the ground.
Jessa couldn’t help but lick her lips the second she laid eyes on those abs of his. She wanted to jump on top of him and lick every inch of those sinful muscles. “Come fuck me.”
“Not yet. First thing’s first.” He walked toward her, fire in his eyes, and picked her up into his arms.
She wrapped her legs around his waist just as her bare back hit the cool wall behind her.
He crushed his mouth to hers, and he wasn’t gentle about it. His lips demanded entry, and she willingly obliged. His tongue practically fucked her mouth as he swept it along every inch. Exploring her. Devouring her. Making her his. He finally pulled away, breathless, his body shaking slightly as he set her on her feet. “I’ve waited way too fucking long to kiss you. At the Christmas party I was too rushed, it was so unexpected, but not this time. This time you’re fucking mine.” He palmed her ass and squeezed, kneading the flesh between his fingers. “Now go lie down.”
About the Author:
Erica Lynn lives in Houston, TX with her husband, daughters, and dogs. She considers the beach to be her happy place and, as fate would have it, fell in love with her husband after a day of sun and sand.
She's a self-proclaimed reality TV junkie, and especially loves The Real Housewives. In her few and fleeting spare moments, she loves to settle down with a nice glass of wine and a sexy book.
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