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King's Pleasure
Adrianne Byrd
The sexy King brothers own a successful bachelor-party-planning business and a string of upscale clubs across the country. What could be better than living the single life in some of the world's most glamorous cities?Finding a woman worth giving it up for…Jeremy King's brothers may have turned in their player cards, but that just leaves more action for him. Like the gorgeous, bikini-clad party crasher who saunters into the Malibu bachelor bash he's hosting. Leigh Matthews wants Jeremy, but just for one last fling. And what Leigh wants, she gets.Unable to forget their amazing connection, Jeremy is stunned when weeks later Leigh hires his company–to plan her bachelorette party. Leigh has her reasons for getting married. But after their night of unbridled pleasure, Jeremy doesn't believe she's truly in love. Now he's got six weeks to convince her that their incredible Malibu night was only the beginning.…


KING’S PLEASURE

King’s Pleasure
Adrianne Byrd


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
To Alice: Forever my inspiration

ACKNOWLEDGMENT
To my family and friends, thanks for all the support
and love that you’ve given me.
To my editor, Evette Porter, for helping me
through one crazy year. To my wonderful fans
and readers, thank you for allowing me to do
what I do. It’s always a pleasure to entertain you.
I wish you all the best of love.

The House of Kings series
Many of you have followed the Unforgettable series, which morphed into the Hinton Brothers series. Now I’m introducing you to the Hintons’ playboy bachelor cousins—the Kings.
Eamon, Xavier and Jeremy, along with their infamous cousin Quentin Hinton, are business partners in a gentlemen’s club franchise called The Dollhouse. One of their most popular and lucrative specialties is their bachelor party services. With clubs in Atlanta, Las Vegas and Los Angeles, the brothers are determined to make sure their clients’ last night of bachelorhood is one they’ll never forget. But it’s not as easy as it sounds dealing with hotel managers, outrageous clients and, of course, the entertainment. The brothers are prepared for anything…except when love comes knocking on their door.
In King’s Pleasure, Jeremy King meets beautiful Malibu party-crasher Leigh Matthews. Within minutes, he knows that she’s a woman who is used to getting whatever she wants. And for one wild night, she wants him. After their torrid, one-night affair, his bikini-clad goddess disappears only to return weeks later to hire him to plan her bachelorette bash. Stunned, he refuses to host her party, but quickly reconsiders. After all, the wedding is six weeks away, and there’s not a sexual trick in the books that he won’t use to try and change her mind.
If you missed the first two books in the House of Kings trilogy—King’s Passion and King’s Promise— both are still available. Better yet, buy all three and enjoy this sizzling summer series.
Remember, in love, never bet against a King….
Adrianne

Contents
Prologue
The Playful King
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
The Girl Is Mine
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
You Give Love a Bad Name
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Rolling in the Deep
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Then There Was One
Chapter 32

Prologue
Quentin Dewayne Hinton was getting desperate. It began slowly, but now it was picking up steam. A part of him longed for the days when he was reckless and carefree—drinking by day, screwing by night. Why, oh why, did it have to end? Deep down, he knew the answer. His carefree life had ended when he became the very thing he detested: a successful businessman.
In the beginning, of course, it had been fun. But that was only because he had joined forces with his cousins, the Kings. And just like the three Musketeers—there were four of them. But as the late, great Biggie Smalls said: “More money, more problems.” And Quentin’s biggest problem seemed to follow him around wherever he went.
“Let me get this straight,” said Father Dickerson, braiding his fingers together. “You want me to perform an exorcism on you?”
Quentin coughed to clear his throat. “Well, me and my house…and my car. And if it’s not too much to ask, at this club that I work at.”
“You mean the strip club?”
Q coughed a little harder this time and straightened upright in his chair. “I guess for a lack of a better term… Uh, yes. I, uh, own a chain of strip clubs called The Dollhouse. Actually, there used to be four of us. Well, three, really. They were supposed to operate the clubs and I was just the money man—the silent partner. Then they started settling down and selling their shares in the business. The next thing you know—pow! I own the whole kit and caboodle.” He flashed the cleric an awkward smile.
Father Dickerson’s eyebrows crashed together in the center of his forehead. “Son, please forgive me if this next question offends you. But, uh, are you well?”
Quentin actually gave the question serious thought. “To tell you the truth, Father, I’m not sure I’m qualified to answer that just yet. I mean, honestly. I can be frank with you, can’t I?”
“Sure. Absolutely.”
“Good.” Another smile crept across Q’s face as he tried to clear his throat again with a deep cough. “To be honest, I feel fine—better than fine on most days. I mean, how could you own the hottest strip clubs in three cities and not feel upbeat about life, right?”
Father Dickerson just stared at him.
“Well, maybe you don’t know. But trust me. A man like me, still in his prime and surrounded by beautiful, firm, heavily oiled bodies is its own blessing.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” the priest said.
“Yeah, uh, right. Anyway, there has been some un- usual— Well, not quite paranormal activity happening from time to time.”
“Paranormal? Like ghosts?” the priest asked, trying to quickly get to the crux of the problem.
“Well, that’s the ‘not quite’ part of it,” Quentin said, squirming.
“Son, if you’ve come to me for an exorcism, that leads me to believe that you’re seeing or hearing some sort of, shall we say, disturbing spirits?”
Quentin looped the phrase through his head a couple of times, but he was still uncomfortable with it. “Now, does your definition of spirits mean that the person or persons are…”
“…Dead,” Father Dickerson supplied as more lines creased his forehead.
“Well, see, that’s still my gray issue.”
“Come again?”
“Well, the entity that I’m dealing with hasn’t exactly died.”
Father Dickerson continued to stare at Quentin.
“She—”
“It’s a woman?”
“Yes. Actually, she’s my sister-in-law, Alyssa.”
“Your living sister-in-law?”
“As far as I know.” Quentin shrugged. “I mean, I haven’t talked to her in a few months, but I’m sure someone in the family would’ve contacted me if something had happened to her. Then again, who knows? I’m not exactly on the best of terms with my family.”
Father Dickerson snatched off his black-rimmed glasses and proceeded to rub his eyelids. “Let me try this again,” he said. “You want an exorcist to get rid of a spirit that isn’t really a spirit but a recurring vision of a woman who is very much alive? Do I have that right?” he said in disbelief.
“Well, it’s more than just a vision. She talks to me and tries to give me advice—most of the time when I’m not asking for it. She’s made me look crazy in front of some of my dates. Her specialty is popping up right after I— Well just because you wear that collar doesn’t mean you don’t know what goes on between a man and a woman. Am I right?”
When the joke fell flat, Quentin couldn’t cough long or hard enough to clear whatever the hell it was that was stuck in his throat.
“Son, this is probably the first time in my thirty-one years at this parish that I’ve ever said this to someone who has come to me for guidance. I would love to help you, but what you need—neither I nor the church can really help you with. I think that you need to see someone in the mental-health field—maybe someone in a white coat, with the authority to prescribe medication or who can admit you to someplace safe.”
“I’m not crazy,” Quentin declared defensively. “At least my shrink doesn’t think I’m crazy.”
Relief flooded Father Dickerson’s face. “Ah, so you are seeing someone.” He reached over and picked up the phone. “Is there a number or…?”
“What about the exorcism?”
“Son, I can’t exorcise a spirit that doesn’t exist. It is metaphysically impossible for someone who is alive to haunt you. Clearly you are seeing and hearing things that just aren’t there. I’m sorry. I’m sure that’s not the answer you wanted to hear, but that’s the cold, hard truth.”
Quentin shook his head. “Well, can’t you just sprinkle some holy water around? I mean, what’s it going to hurt?”
“Mr. Hinton, are you even Catholic?”
“Is that a prerequisite?”
With a deep sigh, Father Dickerson pushed his glasses back onto his face. “Good day, Mr. Hinton.”
“But—”
“I said, ‘good day.’”
“Unbelievable.” Quentin rose to his feet, barely managing to refrain from giving him a piece of his mind, which is what he really wanted to dish to the insensitive priest. “I guess I’ll just see myself out.”
He turned toward the door and stopped short when he spotted a bored Alyssa, still beautiful in the wedding gown she wore when she’d married his brother, Sterling, utterly breaking his heart. She was leaning against the wall with her arms folded and a smug look plastered on her face.
“I told you this was a waste of time,” she said.
“Oh, shut up,” he snapped as he resumed his charge toward the door.
“Excuse me?” Father Dickerson said.
“I wasn’t talking to you.” Quentin snatched open the door, but decided to leave the priest with just one bit of parting advice. “If I were you, I’d sprinkle some holy water up this office, because whatever you’ve been doing is clearly not working.” He stormed out, with his fake apparition following close behind him.
“Does this mean that we’re going back to Dr. Turner now?” Alyssa asked.
“It’s either that or the loony bin.”
“Good. Because I think you’re on the verge of a breakthrough.”
“God, I hope so.”

“Aah, Quentin. You’re back,” said Dr. Turner, greeting him in her downtown Atlanta office with a smile. “I wondered whether I’d ever see you again. It’s been a couple of months.”
“Yeah, I’ve been a little busy….”
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not that unusual for patients to disappear from time to time, especially when they’re anxious for results.”
Alyssa laughed. “She really does have you pegged.”
“Would you like to come in and sit down?” She stepped back and moved away from the door so that the next move was his.
Quentin’s gaze shifted to the black leather chaise in the center of the room, and unbelievably he felt a strange sensation, like he was finally home. “Just like old times,” he said, strolling into the office.
Dr. Julianne Turner’s thick, luscious coral-tinted lips spread into a breathtaking smile as she closed the door behind him.
Being a connoisseur of women, as he’d proudly proclaimed, Quentin immediately noticed that the good doctor’s perfume had changed. It was no longer soft and floral, but more fruity and woodsy. That wasn’t all he noticed in his short jaunt across the room to the chaise. Her clothes were different. Gone were the knee-length skirts that let her legs play peek-a-boo when she sat down. Now they were proudly showcased in a black number that hit her thigh a good five inches above her knees. Not only that, the tailored cut of the shorter dress led his eyes to her rounded hips and ass.
“What’s going on?” he suddenly asked.
“Sorry?” She leaned back so that she could look up to his tall frame.
That’s when he noticed the extra burst of color in her redbone complexion and that unmistakable twinkle in her eyes that let him know what time it was. “What’s his name?”
“What’s whose name?” She blinked, but the smile never left her face.
Quentin flashed his secret weapon—his dimples. “The name of the brother that put that huge, Kool-Aid grin on your face,” he said. When she opened her mouth to respond, Q held up a finger to cut her off. “And please, don’t insult my intelligence and tell me there isn’t a guy. You have that glow that women have when they’re with child or after a night of unbridled—”
“Quentin!” Alyssa snapped.
Dr. Turner finally blanched. “Mr. Hinton!”
“Quentin,” he corrected as his smile wrapped around his face like a rubber band.
“It’s been a while since you’ve been to my office, so maybe I need to remind you that these visits are for your benefit. I’m not the topic of conversation here. I would appreciate it if you would keep your sly comments and wolfish gaze to yourself. Do I make myself clear?”
“Wolfish?”
“I guess she told you.” Alyssa laughed.
“Now would you like to have a seat?” She gestured to the chaise and when she did so, Quentin caught the flash of a three-carat diamond ring.
He quickly grabbed her hand and pulled it toward him for closer inspection. “Silly me, how did I forget the third reason?” His gaze returned to her face as hurt and betrayal dueled for top billing.
Dr. Turner pulled her hand out of his grasp. “Now that you’ve satisfied your curiosity, can we get down to the reason you’re here?”
“Sure. But I’m still waiting for the name of this lucky bastard, and where I can find him so that I can wring his neck.”
“Mr. Hinton—”
“It’s still Quentin.”
“Is this going to be problem?”
“What, you bailing on me too, so that you can participate in this ridiculous institution?”
“Who said anything about my bailing on you? You’re the one who stopped coming to your therapy sessions. I could look at that as you bailing on me.”
“All right. I’m back. Now you can give this clown back his ring.”
“Reginald is not a clown.”
“Reginald?” He laughed. “You’re marrying someone named Reginald?”
Her brows arched above her eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with the name Reginald. He’s a very respectable and distinguished doctor in his field.”
“Oh, respectable and distinguished.” Quentin rolled his eyes. “That’s another way of saying comfortable and reliable.” He moved toward her and crowded her space. “Tell me, how is old Reggie in the sack?”
Dr. Turner gasped and stepped back. “Careful, Mr. Hinton! You’re in dangerous territory.”
He smirked and erased the space she’d put between them. “Does that mean I’ll get a spanking if I don’t behave?”
“No, it means I’ll have to terminate this and any future sessions. And I won’t hesitate to do so.”
After his therapist’s declaration, Quentin stood his ground, engaging in a staring contest to see whether she was serious or not.
She was.
He exhaled a long breath and then slowly gave her a lazy smile. “Well, I had to give it the old college try. Congratulations are in order.”
Dr. Turner drew in a deep sigh of relief as if she’d narrowly escaped a predator. “Thank you. Now would you like to take a seat?”
Q weighed the question in his head as his gaze bounced from the chaise to the door—and then to a frowning Alyssa. “Well, since I’m here.” He walked toward the chaise and then stretched out.
Dr. Turner took her usual chair and picked up her ever-ready notepad. “So what would you like to discuss today?”
“You mean, other than my abandonment issues? My war against love? Or these crazy dreams I keep having?”
“Dreams? What sort of dreams?”
“What else—wedding dreams.”
“You’ve been dreaming about weddings?”
“Hell, that shouldn’t be much of a surprise, considering how everyone keeps dropping to their knees and popping the big question. I swear, love has become a global epidemic that, quite frankly, some scientists need to hurry up and make a pill to eradicate.”
“That’s a bit extreme, isn’t it?”
“Humph. Not from where I’m standing. My once-devout bachelors-for-life are dropping like flies at the slightest whiff of a woman’s perfume. All my dogs have traded in their Milk-Bones for collars and short leashes. And, get this, they’re happy to stay and play in their own backyard. What kind of madness is this?”
“All right. So, no love. No marriage. It’s just you and your cousin Jeremy living the bachelor lifestyle from here till eternity?”
“Ha!” Quentin rolled his eyes.
“Problem?”
“Yeah. My family is nothing but a bunch of Judases.”
“Oh. So you lost the last member of your boys’ club?” Quentin grumbled.
Dr. Turner laughed.
“Maybe I need to just change doctors,” Quentin mumbled under his breath.
“No. No. Please. I have to hear this story.”
Quentin rolled his eyes.
“You might as well tell her,” Alyssa said, shrugging. “Who knows? It might help.”
“Fine.” Quentin shrugged. “After my so-called best friend, Xavier, decided to jump the broom, Atlanta sort of…lost its luster. So I figured I’d just hop a plane and go find me a California girl.”

The Playful King

Chapter 1
“Welcome to The Dollhouse, Los Angeles,” Jeremy shouted above the pulsing music as he directed the Strozier bachelor party through the doors of the chateau-style building. Upon entering, the group of two dozen thirty-something men focused their attention on the main stage where the beautiful and incredibly talented Chocolate Dolls captivated and titillated the crowd.
“Pick up your bottom lips off the floor, boys.” Jeremy laughed, taking in their awestruck expressions. “I can’t afford too many workers-compensation claims when my girls start tripping over them.”
“I’ve died and have gone to heaven,” one man declared as his gaze locked on to an ebony Barbie doll, rolling her hips and sliding her tongue across her glossy lips.
Jeremy’s smile doubled in size as he grabbed a cocktail napkin off one of the passing trays and handed it over to the young man to help mop up the saliva drooling from his mouth. “Please let me know if you need a bib,” he said, laughing. Jeremy wrapped his arm around the brother’s head and then led him and his boys toward the VIP room, where even more heavenly delights awaited them.
Literally.
Heaven was tonight’s theme. The Dollhouse Dolls wore costumes with glittering wings and halos. Everywhere their eyes roamed, the men at the bachelor party were welcomed by the sight of beautiful, well-oiled, well-toned bodies, dancing, twirling and gyrating on gold stripper poles. It didn’t matter what their preference was, The Dollhouse showcased women in every flavor of the rainbow, and they were all willing and capable of fulfilling their clientele’s every fantasy.
With a state-of-the-art sound system bumping, a dazzling light show swirling around, The Dollhouse featured the most beautiful women Los Angeles had to offer. Jeremy knew that the club had the potential to set another record-profit night. It was part of a little wager that he and his cousin Quentin had going since Jeremy had taken over the Atlanta club from his brother Xavier.
It had only been a few months, but Jeremy already missed having his brothers, Eamon and Xavier, involved the business. Hell, he still couldn’t wrap his brain around Eamon being married and Xavier acting like a married man. He even had a bet going with his cousin Quentin as to whether Xavier was going to throw in the towel and pop the big question to his current girlfriend, Cheryl Grier.
Jeremy had ten grand riding on Xavier not losing his right mind completely. But Quentin made a very persuasive argument about all the signs that pointed to matrimony. Like selling his shares in the club, and bringing Cheryl’s name up in every conversation. Hell, they were talking about a buddy of theirs who recently suffered a herniated disc, and Xavier somehow managed to find a way to weave Cheryl into the conversation.
The ten grand was going to be like taking candy from a baby, Quentin kept saying. Married? Xavier? Jeremy just couldn’t see it—and hoped that he never would—especially since Quentin would undoubtedly make him pay the ten grand in one-dollar bills, and he would make him sit down in front of him and count it all out. He could be an ass like that sometimes.
Sure he was happy for his brothers, but there was also a part of him that was more than a little irritated. They’d had a good thing going. Three bachelors—and their supposedly silent partner, Quentin—were running the hottest gentlemen’s clubs in three different cities. Damn, talk about recession-proof! They had everything that any man could possibly want to wake up to every day with a smile on his face.
Hell, Jeremy usually bounced out of bed—sometimes even his own—because he couldn’t wait to get to the club where he was surrounded by gravity-defying breasts and booty-popping goddesses. They were lucky sons of bitches to call what they did a job. As far as he was concerned, he was never going to understand his brothers’ deciding to just punk out of the business.
Sure, he liked Victoria and Cheryl okay. They were nice considering Victoria initially tried to sue them for fifty million dollars and Cheryl had been working undercover in a drug-trafficking sting operation at the Atlanta club. He just didn’t understand how you could fall in love with women who were either trying to put you in the poorhouse or behind bars.
But whatever.
It was going to be a cold day in hell before he turned his leash over to someone. And yes, he knew perfectly well that he met the definition of “a dog” for at least half the women in the world. But that was not the half that he was concerned with. It was the other half that labeled him “a hell of a good time under the sheet” that he focused on.
Unlike his brothers, he was never going to leave this life. God willing, he was going to ride this bachelorhood thang until he was a hundred years old, getting a sponge bath from the hottest nurses he could find. Of course, if he had his way, he wanted to go out getting a lap dance in the club’s VIP room with a smile on his face and a hard-on in his pants.
That wasn’t asking too much, was it?
Besides the personal benefits, there was something quite noble in being a man who brought so much joy and happiness to guys who otherwise led dreadfully dull lives. Surely such an unselfish deed would guarantee him easy passage through the pearly gates when the time came. Of course, that all depended on if the good man upstairs was indeed a man. If not, then he would just have to soothe his conscience with the knowledge that while he was here on earth, he’d led one hell of a life.
Schlepping through life doing a regular nine-to-five terrified Jeremy. Always had. Dull and ordinary was not the kind of life he’d envisioned for himself. And thanks to his older brothers, Eamon and Xavier, that wasn’t something he ever had to worry about.
Hopping up onto the VIP stage, Jeremy scanned the crowd with a huge smile on his face. “All right. It’s that time—time to bring the man of the hour up on stage!”
The crowd roared with excitement, as a steady chant of “Cal-vin! Cal-vin” filled the VIP room.
“Come on up, big man!”
The shouts and cheers went up another decibel as Calvin “Hoopstar” Strozier shouldered his way through the cheering homeys.
Hoopstar, who was the NBA’s Los Angeles Razors’ third-highest-paid player, finally hopped up on stage, tossed two deuces to the crowd and just let his fifty-foot ego drink in the applause.
Jeremy laughed, and then when he was ready, shared a fist-bump with the baller.
“All right!” Jeremy laughed, grabbing a microphone. “It sounds like y’all are ready to par-tay!”
The volume cranked up a few more decibels as Jeremy slapped his favorite pro basketball player on his back and waited for the cheering to die down. “Well, my man. You know how this works…since it’s our third time hosting a bachelor party for you at The Dollhouse in two years.”
His friends laughed.
Hoopstar let the jab roll off him like water. “Hey. What can I say? I’m determined to get this marriage thang right.”
“Well, you know what they say, ‘If at first you don’t succeed…’” Jeremy cheesed and shook his head. It seemed to him that the brother could cut down on the alimony payments if his boy didn’t try to put a ring on every hot groupie he met. “With that in mind,” Jeremy continued, “we at The Dollhouse will be happy to keep throwing you the best bachelor parties until you do get this love thang right.”
“Bet!” The men exchanged fist-bumps before Hoopstar gave the crowd the thumbs-up signal for another round of cheers.
“All right, my man. You know I believe in bringing nothing but the best to the stage. I want you to know I found just the right flavor for all of you to enjoy tonight.”
The room roared with excitement.
“A’ight, man. A’ight.” Hoopstar clapped his hands and rubbed them together. “I know you ain’t gonna let a brotha down.”
“You know this, maaaaan.” Jeremy slapped his boy hard on the back. “Y’all brothers ready for this?”
“Hell yeah!”
Joking, Jeremy stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around. “Then without further ado, you boys get ready to make it rain for the lovely—and the incredibly sexy—Caramel Swirl!”
The thunderous applause that followed as the Brazilian goddess took the stage penetrated the club’s walls and probably echoed through the streets of downtown Los Angeles. Meanwhile, inside the VIP room, gigantic ballplayers grabbed their money clips as Jeremy exited the stage and Caramel Swirl gyrated her oil-slicked body onto the stage.
Forget what you heard, absolutely everybody in the business knew that nobody made it rain harder than overpaid pro athletes. They were like grown children with impulse-control issues and more testosterone and money than they knew what to do with.
All in all, they were Jeremy’s favorite customers.
In less than a minute, Caramel Swirl shook her money-maker in a green globe of Benjamins while the club’s hostesses strutted in with their angelic wings and buckets of chilled Cristal.
Money, money, money, mon-nay! Jeremy grinned while the sound of cash registers filled his head.
“Looks like the boys love her,” Delilah grudgingly admitted.
Jeremy whipped his head around and saw his head hostess. “Disappointed?”
Delilah brushed off his smug I-told-you-so tone with an eye roll. “I never said the girl didn’t have talent. I just said that she carries a lot of baggage.”
“Name one dancer up in here that doesn’t have baggage. Scratch that—name me one woman who doesn’t have baggage—and that includes Emilio behind the fourth-station bar,” Jeremy said as he laughed. “Frankly, I’ll be happy when he’s off those hormone pills. His mood swings are driving me crazy.” He turned and started to leave the VIP bar.
“That’s a very sexist thing to say,” Delilah said, trailing behind him.
“But true.”
“Jeremy Jorell King, you take that B.S. back.”
His smile exploded across his face. “Not until you prove me wrong.”
“Like you don’t have baggage.”
“Actually, I don’t,” he said with a lazy shrug as they headed down the stairs and through the main room of the club. The regulars immediately started competing to get his attention. Most of them knew that if Jeremy stopped by their table, it meant a round of free drinks and maybe a free lap dance with one of the club’s hottest girls. “Yo, Jeremy!”
“Jeremy, my man!”
“Dr. J!”
He ignored them all because he didn’t have time to play the game tonight. The Dollhouse’s side business, Bachelor Adventures, was pulling double duty. If he timed this right, he had only forty minutes to get from the club to Malibu for the second bachelor party.
His staff pretty much had the parties down to a science, so that everything ran like a well-oiled machine. His main role was to show up as the face of The Dollhouse, make a speech and introduce the first performer of the night. After that, it was usually time for him to get his party on.
Jeremy checked his watch and then picked up his pace. Undoubtedly he and Delilah would resume their pointless conversation about who had the most baggage another time. It just wasn’t in Delilah to let something go.
Weaving through the crowd then out the front door, he hopped into his bright red Porsche Boxster S. He loved his car. It was his baby girl—his heart. Every time he slid behind the leather seat, it was like sliding in behind a good woman. It coasted and cornered like a dream. And when he got her on an open stretch of road, the power under the hood gave him a natural high that was second only to sex.
No surprise, he made it to the ten-million-dollar Malibu beach house with twelve minutes to spare. The music was already bumping and the house looked like it was nearing capacity. Malibu parties were always the best because there were always neighbors who crashed along with just about anyone who happened to be hanging out at the time—usually women in teeny-weeny bikinis.
Jeremy checked himself in the rearview mirror, and then smiled at his flawless reflection. “I got a feeling that this is going to be a good night.” He winked and then hopped out of the car. As he strolled toward the modern glass-front beach house, he mentally raced through his nightly checklist.
Condoms? He touched his back pocket. Check.
Breath? He cupped his mouth, puffed out a pocket of air and sniffed. Check.
Swagger? Definitely check.
By the time he breezed into the house, Jeremy was seriously ready to get his party on. In his initial survey of the room, he saw that the women outnumbered the men by a ratio of three-to-one. Perfect. Most ménages à trois happened at bachelor parties—usually involving the groom. But you needed to have the right ratio for that fantasy to be fulfilled.
“Heeey, Jeremy,” his first fan of the evening cooed, sashaying her way up to him and looping her arm around his neck. “Long time no see,” she said, poking out her bottom lip, and walking her fingers up the center of his chest.
“Hey, Keya.” He lowered his gaze and caressed her petite figure. “I’ve been meaning to call you.”
“Yeah, right.” She playfully rolled her eyes at the lie, but continued to smile at him. “Tell you what, since we’re both here, you can save yourself the hassle of trying to find my number and we can just hook up tonight.”
“Tonight?” Jeremy glanced around, uncomfortable making plans before he had the chance to check out all the goodies this party had to offer. “Well, you know I’m working tonight.”
“After work,” she insisted, pressing her body against his.
He smiled. “After work, I may be tired.”
“In that case,” Keya said as she reached down and grabbed his crotch, “I have just the remedy to help you get your second wind.”
Jeremy’s white smile stretched around his face. “In that case, I’ll keep an eye out for you at the end of the night.” He tossed her a wink, carefully extracted his balls from her firm grip and then strolled into the party.
“There’s my boy,” Dylan Freedman shouted, strolling over to Jeremy with his hand held up for a high-five.
“Aw. The man of the hour,” Jeremy proclaimed before slapping palms and engaging in a one-arm shoulder-hug.
“Can you believe this—me tying the knot?”
“Hell nah,” Jeremy answered honestly. “But a lot of brothers are dropping like flies into that matrimony trap. I’m starting to think that it’s something in the water.”
“Oh, that’s right. Your brother Eamon just walked the plank, didn’t he?”
“That he did,” Jeremy said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what the hell came over him. But it is what it is, I guess.”
Dylan bobbed his head. “Yeah, yeah. I think I read about it in the paper. He locked down some billionaire heiress or something. She’s quite the dime-piece, too, if I recall.” He laughed. “Talk about a brother upgrading.”
“C’mon, you know Eamon. Money is the last thing that turns his head.”
“True that. True that. Still, your brother won the wife sweepstakes, especially if she’s a dime and got a mint in the bank. A man can’t lock that down every day.”
“Says the man who’s about to marry the daughter of one of the most powerful men in Hollywood,” Jeremy responded. “Something tells me you finally got the financing for your next picture.”
Dylan tapped the side of his temple while his slick grin looked like it was about ready to slide right off his face. “Turns out I got lady luck on my side, too.”
Jeremy frowned. “So are you doing it for love or power?”
Dylan’s shoulders bobbed up and down. “I’m going to plead the fifth on that in case your ass is wearing a wire.”
“Oh, it’s like that.”
His shoulders bounced again.
“A’ight then, bro. You do you,” Jeremy said while his gut twisted in disgust. It wasn’t his place to lecture his friend and—more importantly—his client about how to enter into the sanctity of marriage. If it was one thing he knew, it was how to fall back and play his position, and that position in this drama was on the sidelines.
“Ooooh, Big Daaaaddy.” Twins, Brandi and Candi, flanked his sides and hit him with identical smiles.
“Laaadies,” he drawled, as a memory instantly rewound in his head. He certainly would be up for some two-on-one action tonight. “I didn’t know that you two knew my man Dylan.”
“Who?” They blinked.
Jeremy laughed. “The groom to-be—Dylan Freedman. This is his bachelor party.”
The girls giggled.
“Actually, we didn’t know whose party this was,” Brandi said. Her beauty mole was on the right, Jeremy remembered. “We were just hanging out on the beach when someone shouted that there was a party going on.”
Candi cut in. “You know us. We love crashing a good party.”
“Actually, I did know that.” He tossed them a playful wink before his gaze dived to check out the girls’ heavy silicone investments. As far as he was concerned, they were living up to be damn good investments.
“So what do you say about hooking up later?” Brandi inquired.
Jeremy hesitated. The girls were fun, but the sibling rivalry tended to get a little out of control. “I’m open. We can all hang loose and whatever happens, happens.”
He got two winks as they slapped him on the ass.
“We’ll be looking for you at the end of the night,” Brandi promised before taking her sister by the hand and leading her away.
Jeremy watched their booties jiggle away in matching sky-blue bikinis. Good thing I’m up on my B vitamins.
“I don’t know how you do it, man,” Dylan said. “Please tell me that when you die your family is donating your body to science. Your stamina should be bottled and sold on the stock market.”
“Get on with that, man.” Jeremy laughed, even though his ego inflated a few more inches.
The friends moved farther into the expansive house where the entire glass wall at the back of the house showcased an incredible view of the sun setting over the ocean. With summer’s longer days, dusk usually hit late in the evening.
Jeremy stopped for a second to take it all in. “I love this house.”
“You want to buy it?”
“You’re selling it?” he asked, surprised.
“Yeah. Turns out that wives don’t like their husbands keeping bachelor pads.” Dylan shook his head. “Who knew?”
“You don’t say?” Jeremy chuckled, but he was seriously considering the offer. He loved L.A., and he loved Malibu even more. “Let me think on it and I’ll get back at you.”
“A’ight, but don’t leave me hanging too long. Malibu is still a hot market. It’s one of the main reasons why I wanted to have the party here. It’s a bachelor-and-farewell party all rolled up into one.” Dylan’s eyes grew misty. “I need a drink. Damn, I’m getting married!”
“Aah,” said Dave Killion, Dylan’s best man, who popped up like a jack-in-the-box with a tray of tequila shots. “You said the forbidden word. Drink!”
Dylan rolled his eyes as he reached for one of the shot glasses.
“What’s the forbidden word?” Jeremy asked.
“Married,” Dave answered. “Consider that your only warning.”
“Got it.” Jeremy gave him the thumbs-up and then watched as Dylan tossed back his shot.
“I still can’t believe that I’m losing this place,” Dylan moaned.
Jeremy struggled not to laugh. It was usually during the last twenty-four hours of bachelorhood that all the things brothers were truly giving up finally hit them. Losing the crib was one thing. Their only private space was about to be reduced to just a “man cave” in the basement—if they were lucky. He knew plenty of dudes who were still begging or negotiating to have even that. Their wardrobe would decrease to a quarter of the closet where they could own no more than three pairs of shoes—usually, two pairs for work and one pair of sneakers. God forbid if there wasn’t enough space for the entire department-store-size shoe collection that the missus was bringing to the table. Not to mention the guest pass to the feminized bathroom issued by the wife, where a stick of deodorant and one bottle of cologne that she’s selected resides in the medicine cabinet.
“Actually, I’m going to need some more liquor,” Dylan announced after Dave strolled off.
Jeremy followed him. “How’s it going, Robbie?” Jeremy shouted above the music.
The bartender glanced up and smiled. “Never better, Boss Man.”
Jeremy glanced over at the tip jar and saw that it was already full. “Looks like it’s going to be a good night.”
“It’s always a good night at Bachelor Adventures’s parties.” He winked after spouting the company line.
“Heeeeey, now, that’s what I’m talking about.” Jeremy gave Robbie the thumbs-up. “Hit me with a Heineken.”
“You got it.” Robbie turned toward the portable chiller and grabbed one of the green bottles. “Here you go,” he said, popping the top and setting it down on the bar.
“Thanks.” Jeremy stuffed a couple bills into the tip jar and then turned around to take another survey of the growing party. It was just an hour into the bash and already a few of the ladies had done away with their bikini tops, and more than a few of them were tossing smiles and winks his way.
He turned up the bottle to swallow, and began his mental checklist of possibilities for the evening. What am I in the mood for this evening?
Malibu being Malibu, the selection had more vanilla than his preferred chocolate, but there was enough of an assortment to keep his libido in the game.
When the sun disappeared, the bamboo and seashell Tiki Torches were lit, along with several campfires, to give the partygoers outside on the beach enough light. With beer in hand, Jeremy moved around the crowd, primarily checking on his employees and the groom-to-be.
On deck, his two nude models lay still on buffet tables with an assortment of sushi and sashimi placed strategically over their bodies. Some of the men made their selections by carefully using chopsticks, while others got their jollies off by using their mouths. As a precaution, Jeremy had two security guards posted near the girls to make sure that guests didn’t get too carried away.
As minutes ticked into hours, the drunken games changed from Pin the Condom on the Model to Booby Dodgeball (throwing a ball in the shape of a boob and hitting another player). Jeremy joined in on that one and won.
By the time The Dollhouse Dolls’s glistening bodies did what they did best, working the portable stripper poles, the party was classified as being off the hook. One of his popular dancers, Dime Piece, had one brother fiendin’ so hard that he let her walk him around the room on his hands and knees with a gold leash around his neck.
Still clamoring for more, Dime ordered two of the bouncers to tie him to a coffee table where she then proceeded to climb on top of him in the classic sixty-nine position and simulate a sexual act. The look on dude’s face let everyone know that he was in hog heaven.
By midnight, the Dolls had finished their acts, but the party was far from over. Dylan eventually showed up at the bar, shirtless and with his fly open, demanding another drink—which was the last thing it looked like he needed.
Jeremy greeted him with two potential honeys tucked under each arm, and his own smile stretched across his face. “How you holding up, Dylan?”
His buddy turned toward him, smelling like Mary Jane and looking higher than the satellites orbiting the earth.
“Dr. J, man. You throw the best damn parties,” he slurred.
Another satisfied customer. “Thanks, bro. I’m glad to see that you’re having a good time.”
Dylan looked at the two ebony beauties next to Jeremy and struggled to straighten up. “You don’t look like you’re having too bad a time yourself.”
Jeremy laughed. “You know me. I get in where I fit in—most of the time.”
“Awww…that’s my dawg!” Dylan held up his fist for a bump, while Robbie set the next drink down for the groom-to-be.
When Dylan’s gaze lingered on the ladies, Jeremy leaned down and whispered, “Why don’t you two be nice to my friend here?”
They shared a brief disappointed look, but then slid over to either side of the man of the evening and poured on the charm.
“Damn,” Dylan said. “Nobody can say you’re not a generous man.”
“My momma always taught me to share.” Jeremy laughed, but while he was laughing, he caught sight of the most unbelievable hourglass figure out of the corner of his eye.
“Whoo, girl. Shake it!”
Jeremy’s head twisted all the way around as his gaze zoomed toward a stunningly beautiful cinnamon-brown beauty in a white bikini top and matching wraparound sarong. “Who is that?”
Despite being a man who was accustomed to seeing beautiful bodies, Jeremy was positive that he had never seen curves that lush and dangerous in his entire adult life. Baby Girl was so fine that he personally wanted to call and thank her momma for doing one hell of a job.
And man, could this chick move. Rock, rock, dip and back it on up. Baby Girl. He shook his head. She had just the right bounce and jiggle to set it off.
It was hard to look at her without a brother twisting up his face because she was putting a hurting on everyone watching her. Before he knew it he was rocking his own hips as if he was already partnered up with her on the dance floor.
She’s the one, he decided as his erection stretched down one side of his leg.
Jeremy didn’t immediately bounce up out of his chair. Instead, he spent a good deal of time itemizing a mental list of all the things he wanted to do to her—some were illegal in twelve states.
His gaze finally inched upward, but she was moving and grooving so much that it actually took a moment before she finally turned so that he could see her face. When she turned, Jeremy’s heart stopped.
At least, that’s what it felt like—because there was suddenly an unbelievable pain in his chest. Baby Girl had the face of an angel, with round, doll-like eyes, big-apple cheeks and a pair of incredibly shapely, full lips that reminded him of the singer Angie Stone. He loved a nice set of lips.
Suddenly, a brother pulled up all onto her bumper, and jealousy stabbed him so hard that it was a good thing he didn’t pack heat or CSI would have been all up in there tonight. With an inner strength that he didn’t know he had, he forced himself to hang back and watch Baby Girl’s reaction. Hell, for all he knew, the brother could be her man. No sense in looking crazy until he had a few more facts.
His mysterious angel-slash-sex kitten turned and smiled over her shoulder at her new dance partner. Though she dipped and rolled her hips, he quickly concluded that the two-step-challenged brother wasn’t her man. And when it became clear that dude couldn’t keep up with what she was working with, Baby Girl gave homey the cold shoulder.
“Damn, he went down in flames,” Dylan said, watching the same scene.
Hell, Jeremy had forgotten all about Dylan and the two honeys still holding up the bar. Jeremy’s singular focus was on the woman that could clearly give his dancers a good run for their money.
Jeremy watched brother after brother step up. But one by one, she shot them down with either a roll of her eyes or a sudden twist of her back. Baby Girl wasn’t playing on the dance floor.
“Cold,” he mumbled, but what still impressed him was Baby Girl’s skills.
“Why don’t you get up there?” Dylan said, elbowing him. “Show us how it’s done, dawg.”
Tempting. However, something else coursed down the center of Jeremy’s back. Nervousness. The emotion was so new to him that for a couple of minutes, he didn’t know what to do. Rejection was never something he’d even considered before.
“A body like that,” Dylan slurred, “was made for one thing, and one thing only—sin.”
Jeremy bobbed his head in agreement. It had been a minute since he’d been up in somebody’s church and he certainly wasn’t interested in being saved tonight. He glanced around, and with a quick eyeball check he was pretty sure that the laughing beauty was drawing nearly every man’s attention. Playing the odds, he knew that if he didn’t bust a move soon, a worthwhile competitor would surely knock him out of the game before he even got up to bat.
“Don’t tell me you ain’t gonna make a move.” Dylan laughed. “I’ve never known you to turn down a challenge.”
Jeremy cut an annoyed look over his way. “Then you know that I’m not going to start tonight.” He twisted his head back toward the floor. “A hunter needs to study his prey before he makes a move.” However, it only took a few seconds for some major action to start happening along the seams of his pants.
His gaze performed another slow drag down her long neck, graceful shoulders and incredibly perky and very real breasts. Every inch of this woman’s body was a work of art. Flat stomach, small waist and an ass he wouldn’t mind spending time bouncing quarters off—or just bouncing off it himself.
That brought a smile to his face.
“She’s got to be an actress. Please say she’s an actress. I’ll make her a star,” Dylan promised.
“Calm down, Lassie,” Jeremy said. “Your bone is showing.”
Dylan glanced down and finally zipped up his pants, but not before peeking into Jeremy’s lap. “Looks like mine isn’t the only one. You might want to hit that with a hammer before you think about standing up.”
Jeremy chuckled, tossed back his drink and then stood up. “Stop hating on the pipes, man, and carry your ass on back to the minor leagues. I got this.”

Chapter 2
“Promiscuous” bumped from the DJ’s speakers and put Leigh Matthews’s body into a trance. A good beat always had that effect on her. And tonight she needed the music to mentally take her to another place.
The men that stepped up to her trying to impress her failed to do just that—mainly because men were the last thing she wanted to deal with. In all honesty, she was sick of the games and the lies. Sure, she got a kick out of it when men approached her and tried to get their bump and grind on. But it never took them long to realize that she wasn’t interested in taking it any further than that. As quick as they rolled up on her, they got dismissed.
Still, there was a certain satisfaction watching them lose their cool when she got her hips dipping and rolling and her ass popping and backing up. She didn’t mind them fantasizing and spitting weak game in her ear. It was good to know that she still had it like that. Lord knew DeShawn had stopped appreciating her and started taking her for granted.
How much longer was she going to put up with it? How much longer was just being his good girl—the one he always relied on to welcome him back with open arms—going to last?
Hell, did she even love him anymore?
Eyes closed, Leigh allowed herself to become one with the music. Her limbs flowed with the melody, while her hips rocked to the hard-driving bass. It wasn’t long before she was turning herself on. She rolled her hands across the top of her chest, then let them flow over her breasts, glide down her hard-earned abs, and then rolled over her hips.
Soon, she forgot about the number of men crowding her space, trying to rock a two-step or the whack-ass “lean back” that didn’t require them to even move their feet. Seriously, if you can’t keep up, then step the hell aside. Not until she could feel the first beads of sweat rolling down her face did she flutter her long lashes open. When she did the sexiest pair of eyes she’d ever seen watched her from across the room.
Dark.
Chocolate.
Hypnotic.
Everything from her toes to her nipples tingled, especially when her gaze expanded to take in the magnificent specimen those eyes belonged to. Good Lord. Am I dreaming? The man was as solid as an African warrior ready to wrestle a lion with his bare hands. The thought of wrestling with him butt-naked with a bottle of baby oil crossed her mind, and then a heat wave flushed her entire body. Maybe tonight she didn’t have to be such a good girl.
Judging by the look in his eyes, her mysterious stranger was thinking the same thing. The question now was what type of games were they going to play before they answered the call of their bodies?
Their gazes still locked from across the room, Leigh rocked her hips and touched her body in a way that one would have to be blind, crippled or crazy not to know what time it was. She tossed her thick hair back, giving him a sneak preview of what she looked like in the throes of passion.
Her smile slid wider as his gaze roamed over every inch of her body. It wasn’t long before the rest of the crowd melted away while she concentrated on giving him his own private dance. It was a tall order, seeing as how she was in a house full of professional strippers and weekend party girls.
She turned, giving her mysterious gawker a backside view of what she was working with. While she worked her hips and jiggled her ass, she still felt her future lover’s gaze caressing her frame. The image of them grinding together in a heated fury made her tits hard as rocks and her bikini bottoms as wet as if she’d just stepped out of the ocean.
Leigh turned to see his face again just as he said something to the dude next to him holding up the bar, before he finally stalked toward her.
He even walked like a man among boys. His gait, long, smooth and sexy as hell, made her knees knock. But it was those dark, penetrating eyes that hypnotized her.
She needed him—wanted him.
When he was just halfway through the crowd, her body caught fire. She was more than willing to bet that nibbling on all that chocolate could send a woman into a diabetic coma. Then again, if a girl’s gotta go, she may as well go out with a smile on her face.
Five feet away— Damn, it didn’t make any sense for a man to be that fine.
Four feet away— Wouldn’t it be hot if he just ripped her clothes off right there in the middle of a crowded room?
Three feet away— Would anyone notice or care if they went at in the middle of the floor like it was the wild kingdom?
Two feet away— If he so much as touched her, she was sure her bikini bottoms were going to be hit with a tsunami of honey.
One foot— His large hand snaked out across her waist and just as expected, her clit exploded and her knees buckled. Luckily for her, she had his broad chest to fall back against while she tried to catch her breath. Damn—a one-touch orgasm. Who would’ve ever thought?
As an added surprise, her future lover was not a simple two-step brother with a bump-and-grind routine. He had skillz—yes, with a Z. He rocked, dipped and moved like he was born on the dance floor. Leigh had long subscribed to the notion that how a man danced was directly correlated with how he performed beneath the sheets.
It wasn’t long before they were moving as one and definitely scorching up the designated dance floor. While a few beads of sweat rolled down her hairline, Mr. Sexy-As-Hell remained calm, cool and dry. It wasn’t long before she wondered if she could keep up with him—on the dance floor and between the sheets.
One thing was for sure, she wouldn’t mind finding out.
For three songs, their bodies moved and grooved against each other in ways that were more than just suggestive—they were scandalous. Leigh’s breasts ached to the point that they were painful and her heart dropped so low that she was convinced that it was now pounding away inside her clit.
Another two songs later and they were still at it, with hardly an inch between them—at times exchanging the same breath whenever her breasts and his chest grazed each other.
A few times Leigh caught his gaze dropping to her nipples. A second later, his tongue would roll across his lips, making them glisten. Never in her life had she ever had to suppress the urge to kiss a complete stranger. But here she was, drawing on every ounce of willpower.
And losing.
Before she could question what she was doing, let alone why she was doing it, she slid her arms up his broad chest and then looped them around his neck. From there, gravity took its course, and her future lover lowered his head.
Please, Lord, let him know how to kiss. If Leigh had a dime for every good-looking brother she’d encountered since her training-bra days that thought kissing somehow involved licking her nose or chomping on her tongue, she’d be as rich as Oprah.
So with her toes and fingers crossed, she waited anxiously for his luscious-looking lips to touch down. Please, please, Lord.
Turns out God still answered prayers.
The instant their lips touched, something akin to a heat wave blazed through Leigh’s entire body and melted every thought right out of her head. With something this hot, reflex should have interceded and made her jump back from the flames. Instead, the exact opposite happened. She pressed her body closer—like she wanted to be consumed by him. It was maddening.
Once she got used to the fire, she noticed other things about him. Not only were his lips pillowy soft, but his mouth was as wicked as his rhythmic hips. What his tongue was doing with hers was downright pornographic—and she was the star.
Thank you, Lord!
Leigh lost her sense of time and space while her body temperature skyrocketed. She didn’t care that her lungs were on the brink of collapse because of lack of oxygen. As far as she was concerned, collapsing in his arms wasn’t such a bad way to go. Even as she felt his lips pull away, it didn’t stop her from conjuring up a vision of coasting through imaginary clouds. Quite simply, it was the best kiss she’d ever had.
Period.
After a few gulps of oxygen, she was finally able to reboot her system and open her eyes—but only to be sucked back into this man’s hypnotic gaze. Damn. Who in the hell is this guy? Just as one voice asked the question, there was another part of her that wondered if half the thrill was in not knowing.
So when Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Handsome opened his mouth to speak, Leigh quickly pressed a finger against his lips. “Shhh. I don’t want to know your name or your zodiac sign. I just want us to go someplace where you can just screw my brains out.”
His handsome features barely registered surprise before he smiled and said, “I think I can handle that.”

Chapter 3
Either it was Jeremy’s birthday or he’d died and gone to heaven. Frankly, if this was a sample of heaven’s delights, he hoped that no one would mourn his passing. As far as he was concerned, he was definitely about to be in a better place. His Coke-bottle-curved diva took him by the hand and led him through the bumping and grinding crowd without another word.
Bounce.
Jiggle.
Wiggle.
“Damn.” He twisted his face at the woman’s backside view and felt his erection stretch a few more inches down his leg. He was the luckiest son of a bitch walking and he knew it.
Bounce.
Jiggle.
Wiggle.
“Yo, Dr. J!”
Hypnotized, Jeremy didn’t risk taking his eyes off the grand prize. He tossed up a couple of deuces and gave whoever was hollering at him the cold shoulder. He knew how most of the brothers on the West Coast operated. They weren’t like the brothers in the South who knew how to fall back and let you play your position. L.A. playas see you heading out with the hottest chick in the room, and suddenly there’s a cock-blocking army trying to intercept.
Not tonight.
He’d rather catch a case before he’d give this up.
From the sidelines, Dylan waved to get his attention. Glancing over, tomorrow’s groom gave him the thumbs-up. Jeremy held up his hand and pretended to be smacking, flipping and rubbing his diva down—preferably with some honey or baby oil.
Baby Girl chose that moment to glance over her shoulder. He straightened up, and flashed her a devilish smile.
She laughed, released his hand—but only so that she could grab him by the waistband of his pants. “A’ight, handsome. Let’s see what you can do.”
“Please don’t hurt me,” he said.
“A little pain never hurt nobody.” She winked.
Jeremy’s brows jumped higher. I like this chick. Plus, he was more turned on than he’d ever been in his entire life. And that was saying something.
They stepped out of the sliding glass doors at the back of the house and onto the crowded deck where topless beach divas and drooling brothers danced and stumbled around.
Jeremy followed the night’s dessert down the stairs leading from the deck to the beach below. The cool night breeze whipped and flapped the sarong, hugging the woman’s luscious hips. His smile stretched wider at the constant peek-a-boo snapshots of her firm, heart-shaped ass.
Lord have mercy. He touched his forehead to make sure that he wasn’t running a fever. After a moment, he grew concerned. “Where are we going?”
“Where else? To get wet!” She released his hand and started racing toward the crashing waves.
At this late hour the Pacific Ocean was a dark blue-black abyss with strips of silvery moonlight dancing across the surface. But before he could object, the diva whipped off her sarong and flung it and her bikini top off. Next thing he knew they were smacking him in the face.
The intoxicating scent that lingered in the clothes buckled his knees. He stopped and clawed the clothes off his head. He had exactly two seconds to take in his cinnamon-brown beauty bathed in moonlight before she splashed into the water. For the second time that night, his heart stopped.
He grabbed his arm. Am I having a heart attack?
Any thought of yelling for help vanished when his gaze was drawn back to his moon-bathed angel splashing around.
“Aren’t you coming in?” she asked with a teasing lilt.
Jeremy stripped, ignoring the voice in his head, trying to remind him that, unlike his brothers, he didn’t know how to swim. Well, he could doggy-paddle, but he shouldn’t risk that kiddie maneuver in any depth of water that was higher than his height and clearly the ocean tended to go deeper than six-three.
“C’mon. The water feels great!”
Damn. She even had a voice like an angel.
“Two seconds,” he said, picking up the pace instead of confessing his handicap. He could do this. He just needed to make sure that he stayed close to shore. Once he was down to just his briefs, Jeremy gave himself one last pep talk and then rushed into the ocean with one last prayer: Please, Lord, don’t let me drown.
However, he wasn’t quite prepared for the water to be quite so cold. By the time he made it waist-deep, he was shivering and trying like hell not to scream like a damsel in distress. This was not the night to be losing manly points.
“There you are,” his moonlit goddess said as she popped up next to him. “I thought that you were going to keep me waiting out here all night.”
“Believe me. That’s the last thing I want to do.” He boldly wrapped an arm around the curve of her hip and then pressed her closer. She offered no resistance as her firm yet soft breasts pressed against his chest, so he took the next step, and tilted his head down and drew her full lips in for another kiss.
Sweeter than the richest chocolate and more potent than a shot of absinthe, Jeremy’s mind started tripping and his body heated an extra twenty degrees. Still, he plundered her lips like a starving man. Within seconds they were swallowing each other’s moans while dying to get even closer.
Suddenly she jumped up and wrapped her long legs around his trim waist. She also made sure that his ironhard cock was jammed against the crotch of her bikini bottoms.
Pulling back, he caught her bright white smile beaming in the silvery light.
“Oooh. Impressive,” she murmured.
“I aim to please.” He nibbled on her bottom lip.
“Then you’re off to a great start.”
“You’re not doing so bad yourself.” Jeremy worked his hips and grinded against the thin material shielding her pussy.
“Is that right?” Her laugh blended beautifully with the night, which only added to her intoxicating allure.
“Mm-hmm.” He worked his way to the left earlobe while his hands slid down her firm yet squeezable ass.
She followed his lead and started brushing kisses against the side of his neck.
He smiled and kept his feet planted on the ocean’s rocky floor as waves crashed around them. Frankly he could nibble on her all night. When he caught a break in the surf, he reached down between their bodies and freed his cock from his tight briefs, and then slid her bikini bottoms to the corner of her right thigh.
Jeremy watched transfixed while his new lover sucked in a quick breath in preparation, but he knew that it wasn’t going to be enough. With a slick Cheshire grin, he directed his near double-digit-size cock toward her pussy’s entrance to give them a proper introduction.
But then a huge wave hit them. Jeremy held back a scream as the icy water swallowed him whole. The crashing wave provided him with the chance to experience the pleasure of his seductive nymph’s erotic curves as she rolled on top of him, her luscious breasts brushing against his chest. Suddenly the ocean wasn’t so cold after all.
Bobbing back up to the surface, his playmate’s laughter filled his ears. But what made him awestruck was that she was perfectly positioned, so that at just the right angle the moonlight bouncing off her honey-brown skin convinced him that he really was dealing with some sort of water goddess.
“My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, unable to stop staring.
“Aw. I bet you say that to every half-naked woman you meet.”
“I’m going to plead the Fifth on that one,” he said to be safe. “Though it doesn’t change the fact that you’re very, very beautiful.”
“Thank you. And if you don’t mind my saying, so are you.”
Jeremy’s face twisted again. “Men aren’t beautiful.”
“They aren’t?” She laughed.
“No. You’re supposed to say that they are either handsome or good-looking.” He reached up and grabbed her around the waist and pulled her closer. “Men are not beautiful.”
She cocked her head. “Sounds like I’ve ruffled someone’s manly feathers.”
“Nah. I’m just saying.” Her breasts brushed up against him again, making him lose his train of thought. In fact, his eyes focused on her full, luscious mouth.
“You were just saying what?”
He blinked. “Hell. I forgot.”
She laughed as they bobbed up and down in the water. Her hardening nipples added more inches to his erection. After staring at her for so long and enjoying the rush of foreplay endorphins, he could no longer suppress the urge to just kiss her.
His moon-bathed goddess welcomed his lips with a soft moan, but he was completely unprepared for the Godiva’s kiss that was as sweet as it was decadent. Immediately he was addicted. He found himself greedily deepening the kiss, barely mindful of keeping his body afloat as they drifted farther from the beach.
Not only was his temptress sweet, she was aggressive, as well.
She locked her hands around the back of his head and held him in place while her tongue practically molested his mouth, which was equal parts dirty and seductive. When she finally released him, he didn’t know whether he needed to file a police report or sign over his life savings for her to do it again.
If I’m not careful, a girl like her…
Jeremy fiercely shook off the rogue thought, but his gaze zoomed back to her buxom breasts and started having their own conversation. “Who are you?”
She pulled one of her hands from behind his head and pressed a finger to his lips. “No names, remember?”
He cocked a half grin to cover his sudden wave of irritation. “I have to call you something.”
“In that case, you can call me…” she teased, “…the best you’ll ever have.”
The silvery light picked up the wicked gleam in her eyes as she peeled her bikini bottoms off her hips, Never in all of Jeremy’s life had he ever experienced such an intense and powerful tremor that seemed to originate in the center of his soul. Baby Girl climbed back up into his arms and locked her silky legs around his hips. This time, there were no bikini bottoms blocking their connection. He received another surprise when he tried to squeeze into her incredibly tight walls. They gasped and then watched their reactions mirrored as their bodies slowly fit together.
Ignoring the sharp rocks stabbing the pads of his feet, Jeremy’s toes began to curl. But that was nothing compared to the way his thick arms trembled despite her slight weight. There was just something about the way the muscles in her velvety pussy tightened and rippled, causing his tear ducts to water and blur his vision.
She adjusted to his size and thickness faster than he could regain his bearings, as she started working her hips in perfect figure eights.
“Oh, damn, Baby Girl,” he gasped, and then clenched his jaw. Soon, sucking air through his teeth was the only way he could breathe. This experience was all new to him. Her body was activating all kinds of switches that he didn’t even know existed.
“Daddy, you feel good.” Leigh flung her head back and set her hips with that extra room.
Jeremy had no doubts that he was dealing with a woman who was the queen of Kegel exercises. She was putting him through the wringer. Less than a minute in, he started tightening his abdominal muscles to try to stave off coming too soon. However, that trick wasn’t working tonight. He was about the come whether he wanted to or not.
“What’s the matter? Hmm?” She leaned in close and whispered into his ear. “You can’t keep up, Big Daddy?”
Jeremy wanted to brag that he could handle anything she tossed his way, but that was shaping up to be a huge lie. Hell, he wanted to call a timeout, regroup and go at this again after a big bowl of Wheaties and some Gatorade. But that’s not how a playa handled things.
After witnessing his struggle, Baby Girl leaned forward and sucked his left earlobe into her hot mouth. He gasped at the feel of his skin scraping against her teeth. She pulled back and chuckled.
“I told you a little pain never hurt nobody.” Her smile widened. “What happened to all that swag you had earlier tonight?”
No, Baby Girl wasn’t challenging his manhood. He had to pick this up a notch or forever be defined as a two-minute brother. And he wasn’t having that.
The big guy upstairs was still answering prayers because suddenly they were hit with a huge wave, knocking them off balance and dipping them into the ocean. Seconds ticked by like minutes, while he splashed around and kicked. Just before panic settled in, the ocean spat him out—in nothing but his birthday suit.
The sound of Baby Girl’s laughter filled his ears and when he scanned the moonlit beach, he caught sight of her brick-house frame jiggling away—with his clothes.
“’Ey, yo! Where are you going?”
She glanced over her shoulder and laughed.
“Oh. All right. So you want to play,” he said to himself as he pushed himself up onto his feet and then gave chase.
She sped up, waving his underwear over her head and whooping it up.
Frankly, she looked adorable—footloose and carefree.
“Yo! Get back here!”
“You got to catch me!” the woman yelled as her long legs carried her away from the bachelor party and from shore.
They raced across the beach like children, drawing attention from the bachelor party.
“Hey, baby,” one woman hollered out. “You don’t have to chase me!”
“Me, either, with your fine ass!”
And not to be out done, a few dudes hollered out propositions to Baby Girl.
Before Jeremy knew it, he had beach full of groupies heckling and tossing their bikini tops at him.
“Damn, do you see that one brother’s pipe?” one girl shrieked.
With his ego expanding, Jeremy remained in hot pursuit of the curvy diva running off with his clothes. Three houses down, his clothes bandit disappeared. “Where in the hell did you go?”
Certain that she had ducked behind one of the smaller white houses, he raced around the entire building.
Nothing. He tried the front door, but it was locked. Next, the side door—locked. Maybe it was one of the other houses. Should he risk running to another house—naked? What if it was the wrong one and someone called the cops?
“All right,” he called out. “Very funny. Where are you?” He glanced around again and strained his ears to hear even the slightest sound. This would be the perfect time to at least have the girl’s name.
“I know you’re around here somewhere.” Jeremy smiled, still expecting her to jump out at any moment. All he could hear was the booming music from the party that he was supposed to be hosting. “All right. You’ve had your fun. C’mon out.”
No answer.
“If you’re trying to jack me, all you got is a wallet full of condoms,” he warned as he crept toward the back of the house again.
No answer.
She was still nowhere to be seen. His playful smile dropped. What the hell? He stood there for a moment and put his hands on his hips.
I should have known that she was too good to be true.
Then, the sound of running water caught his attention. He paused and tried hard to listen more closely. It sounded like it was coming from below him. He looked around and discovered a plank of wooden steps that descended and curved below the house.
“Okay.” He hitched up a smile and walked down. A few seconds later, he was able to make out that the running water was an outdoor shower. Sure enough, he found Baby Girl rinsing her lush body under the spray.
“Ahh. There you are.”
She turned and hit him with a dazzling smile. “Here I am.”
“I see you’re a woman who loves to play games.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Uh-huh.”
“How do you feel about getting my back for me?”
“Oooh.” He strolled toward her, grinning like a six-year-old on Christmas morning. “I think I can handle that, as well.”
“You’re a handy man indeed.”
Her sexy smile did funny things to Jeremy’s chest. One second it felt as if his rib cage was squeezing the life out of him, and the next his heart was melting into a pool of goo. The way the full moon’s glow shimmered made everything seem as if they were cast in a dream. It made sense; she had an ethereal Hollywood beauty and she was effortlessly seducing his mind as well as his body.
Jeremy reached for the liquid soap sitting on a wooden ledge, poured some of it into the palm of his hand. “Turn around,” he ordered.
“Yes, sir.” She followed his command, but then swept her hair over her shoulder so that she could watch him as he pressed his hands against her back and started working the soap into a lather.
“Mmm.”
Jeremy laughed. “You’re definitely a tease.”
“I’m not teasing you. You’ll get what you want in due time—especially after I had a sample out there in the water.”
“You liked that, did you?” Slowly, Jeremy’s hands moved in large circles. He couldn’t help but wonder at the softness of her skin, plus the heat that was rushing up his hands. He was experienced enough to know that this was not normal.
“Mmm. Has anyone ever told you that you have magical hands?”
“Well…I don’t want to brag.”
She laughed, and then turned around.
At the sight of her full-frontal nude body, Jeremy experienced another tightening in his chest. It took everything he had not to grab his arm like Fred Sanford and call on Elizabeth about having “the big one.”
Pleased by his reaction, Baby Girl’s smile grew as wide as the whole state of California. “What’s the matter? Aren’t you going to finish washing me?”
“I, uh…” His gaze kept sweeping up and down her body. “Uh…” Was his brain fried? How come he couldn’t think of a damn thing to say? Abandoning his verbal skills, he extended his hands instead and started soaping her breasts first. He made large circles around her globes, gently pinching them. Damn, it’s hot out here.
Never mind that they were both standing under the spray of cold, icy water, the two were as hot as if they were stranded on the Sahara Desert.
Baby Girl bit her lower lip while her eyes dropped.
“You like that?” he asked. “Mmm-hmm.”
They moved closer and Baby Girl’s eyes sprung open when Jeremy’s large cock nudged her open thighs. Their eyes locked together for a long, heated moment—each wondering and wanting to make the first move.
Just when Jeremy was beginning to conclude that his silvery beach goddess had finally lost her own swag, she boldly grabbed hold of his cock and started stroking him.
His moan rumbled through his chest before he had a chance to stop it.
“You like that?” she tossed back at him.
Hell, yeah. Were her hands made out of silk? Between the tightening in his chest and the tingling sensations rushing up and down his body, Jeremy was torn between plunging ahead or demanding that she call 9-1-1.
Then that beautiful laugh of hers filled the night as she leaned up on her toes and nibbled on his ear again. “Yeah, you like that.”
Jeremy turned his head and captured her lips in a kiss so powerful that he could’ve sworn the ground beneath them shook. From there, he was on a mindless roller-coaster ride that was as thrilling as it was frightening. When their lips finally pulled apart, the same question drifted through his mind: who are you?
Baby Girl wore the same dazed and confused look for a brief moment, and then that cocky, confident grin hooked the corner of her lips before her knees dipped.
His brows inched upward in surprise, but then his breath caught in his chest when she lifted his cock and eased it in the direction of her full lips. The caress of her warm breath made his toes curl. He stood transfixed while she maintained eye contact as she opened her mouth. And it was the most beautiful, glorious mouth he’d ever seen wrapped around his cock.
“Ooooh, gaaawd.” He reached out and sank his fingers into her long hair.
She moaned as her lips painted his cock with coral lipstick.
“Shhhh. Oooooh.” Jeremy was vaguely aware of the reduction in his vocabulary, but it didn’t matter. Hell, nothing in the world mattered—nothing existed other than this woman—and her wonderful mouth. With her gaze still locked on him, Jeremy found it hard to remain cool while his face twisted into a thousand expressions. Pretty soon, even his one-syllable words were incomprehensible.
He needed to sit down—or fall down. Either way, it was going to happen and he had only seconds to choose. From the corner of his eye he noticed the stall had a small bench, and he quickly and gently eased his way over to it. However, the moment he lowered himself onto the bench, Baby Girl’s head accelerated and the sound of her moans and slurps played bass to the shower’s steady spray.
He couldn’t believe what was happening. His vision blurred as the task of just keeping his mouth closed became impossible. He was putty in her hands, and she knew it. All he could hope for was that she would show mercy.
And thank God she did.
Popping her lips off his cock, she smiled as she smacked it against her closed mouth. “I’m not ready for you to come just yet, Big Daddy,” she said.
Jeremy struggled to open his eyes. Honestly, he felt as if he’d been drugged.
“I have something else in mind,” she said, winking. With that, she stood, reached over and shut off the cold water that had been pelting her back, and walked over to his clothes draped over the wall on the other side of the wooden shower stall. From there, she found his wallet and pulled out a sleeve of condoms.
“I like a man that’s always prepared.”
He smiled as he started to stroke himself. This just has to be a dream.
Less than five seconds later, he was wrapped and she was climbing up into his lap. When her knees touched either side of his hips, Jeremy held his cock straight up and then gave her the okay to slide her lush body down on him.
“Aaah,” Baby Girl moaned as she slowly eased down his shaft. Her mouth had the same trouble closing as his did a few minutes ago.
He couldn’t help but smile as the power ball zoomed back into his court. “That’s right, Baby Girl. You can do it.” He planted his hands onto her hips to help her out and when she seemed to stall three quarters of the way, Jeremy surged his hips upward and sealed the deal.
“Aaah.”
“There you go, Baby Girl.” He leaned forward and sucked one of her hard nipples into his mouth. From there, it seemed that the night was filled with the sounds of her sexy sighs and moans.
“You ready, Baby Girl?”
He waited a few seconds while she caught her breath, until she finally managed to open her eyes again, and gave a slight nod. Then it was on. Jeremy pumped his hips into her honeyed walls and watched as thousands of different expressions coursed through her face—all of them breathtakingly beautiful.
“Oh, gawd, you feel so good,” she chanted and grabbed hold of his shoulders.
Hell, the way her walls caressed and massaged his cock, she was an armful of paradise herself. As their bodies slapped together, and her honey glazed everything between, the new lovers witnessed the most earth-shattering fireworks exploding behind their closed lids.
The brief cooldown from the shower was forgotten as their body temperatures started heating up again. Wanting and needing more leverage, Jeremy grabbed Baby Girl around her ass cheeks and stood up.
She had just enough time to wrap her long legs around his waist to avoid falling. From there, Jeremy leaned her back against the stall and started hammering his hips as if the fate of the whole world depended on his making her come.
“Aah, aah, aah!”
“You want to come for me, Baby Girl?”
Stroke.
“Yes!”
Stroke.
“What? I can’t hear you, Baby Girl.”
“Yes! Yes! Oh, God, yes!”
Stroke. Stroke.
“Give Daddy all this good candy.”
Stroke.
Stroke.
Panic started to set in when Jeremy’s toes curled and his abdominal muscles clenched. The last thing he wanted to do was come before she did. But it seemed that he was on a ride that even he couldn’t stop. Before long, their groans and moans competed for dominance, and before they knew it they hurdled toward the finish line together in one long, silent orgasmic scream.

Chapter 4
“Maybe we should take this inside,” Baby Girl suggested.
Jeremy drew his head back from between her breasts and looked up into her beautiful face. At that moment, she could’ve suggested that they continued this wild night on top of the Empire State Building and he would’ve followed her.
“That is…if you’re not too tired.”
He blinked. “What? I know you’re not insinuating that I can’t hang.”
Baby Girl shrugged her shoulders, and then climbed out of his lap. “I’m just saying, you can rest if you need to.” She walked over to the other end of the stall and gathered up his clothes. “Tell you what. I’ll be inside if you want me.”
Amused, he watched her leave the wooden stall. Oh, it’s on now. He jumped up and raced after her. When he reached the back door of the beach house, he could see her through the glass in all her naked glory—beautiful ass, a gorgeous pair of natural tits and nicely groomed pussy that was absolutely calling his name.
“Lord, have mercy.”
“Are you going to run around outside the house all night or are you coming inside?”
“Aw. You really do like to play games, don’t you?” Jeremy reached and slid open the glass door.
Baby Girl stepped back, her full lips teasing him in a seductive smile. “There’s nothing wrong with making you work a little bit for what you want.”
He walked toward her. “Oh, this brother isn’t afraid to put in some work,” Jeremy said.
Her brows rose. “Is that right?”
Jeremy’s arms snaked out and grabbed her by the waist before she had another chance to dash off. “I’m not a man afraid of a little work.”
“Mmm.” Her arms looped back up around his neck as he pressed their bodies closer. “Good to know.”
Their lips came together for another sweet, decadent kiss. Jeremy thought that he was more prepared this time, but turned out—to his moaning and groaning embarrassment—that simply was not true. He tried to play it cool for as long as he could, but this woman kept hitting that spot up against the side of his tongue that not only made his dick as hard as a brick, but it even made his nipples tingle.
What the hell?
Meanwhile, he couldn’t seem to control his hands. They were already sliding away from her small waist to roam over her ass, which was smooth, soft and wonderfully squeezable. In fact, every time she hit that magic spot on the side of his tongue, he squeezed and parted her ass cheeks in a way that would make her moan as loud as he did. No sense in him being the only one sounding like he was on the verge of another orgasm.
At some point, she started moving, forcing him to walk backward. Hell, he didn’t care where they were going as long as she was coming with him. But then he bumped into something hard and she delivered a hard shove against his chest that sent him reeling backward.
“Heeey…?” He landed on his back on a soft couch that had at least two-dozen pillows on it.
“Comfy?” she asked, standing above him with her hands nestled on her hips.
He smiled, loving how she towered over him like an Amazon warrior. Yet he still had the same recurring thought looping inside of his head: please don’t hurt me.
“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” she inquired.
“Not yet. But why don’t you turn some lights on in here? I want to be able to see every inch of you.”
She walked over to the lamp behind the couch and clicked it on. “Better?”
“Much better.” His gaze danced over her curves again.
Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Baby Girl crawled up and over the arm of the sofa, and then up his long, muscular body. “My God, you look like somebody chiseled you out of milk chocolate,” she cooed. Then she dipped her head and ran her tongue over the ridges of his hard six-pack. “Mmm. Sweet.”
The air oozed out of Jeremy’s lungs in a long, soft hiss as he watched her wicked pink tongue as it rolled up the center of his body. He was so turned on that his cock jumped reflexively against his thigh.
“Now, since you’ve tasted me, you could give a brother a sample.”
Her brow hitched. “Just a sample?”
“Well, if you’re offering a brother all he can eat, then I can handle that, too.” He reached down and gave her ass a hard squeeze.
“I think that I can handle that.” But before she complied, Baby Girl slanted her mouth over his so that their tongues could dance and caress each other.
Hot, wet and sweet as hell, Jeremy didn’t mind the sugar rush that shot straight to his head. But he absolutely loved the extraordinary sensations that twirled and swirled inside him. In all honesty, Jeremy had never felt anything like it—and it was definitely a feeling that he could get used to.
When their lips finally pulled away, Baby Girl smiled. “I hope that you’re hungry.”
“Starved.” His lips hitched upward as he delivered a smack against the bottom of her ass. He watched as her eyes twinkled with excitement before she resumed her languid climb up his body. In no time, Baby Girl planted her knees on both sides of his head and he was face-to-face with her beautifully trimmed pussy. His chest tightened and if he didn’t know any better, he would say that there were butterflies fluttering behind his iron-hard abs, to say nothing of his cock, which was standing as straight and hard as a flagpole.
He reached up and parted her brown lips and was rewarded with the husky-sweet scent of her pussy. He could honestly say that if he died there tonight, he would be a very happy man. Lifting his head just as she widened her knees, Jeremy glided his tongue down the side of her soft, honeyed clit.
Baby Girl threw her head back and released a whining moan toward the ceiling. His second stroke made her knees and thighs tremble. From there, Jeremy pressed his face even closer while his tongue went deep.
Jeremy was pretty sure the words flowing from Baby Girl’s mouth were nothing but half-baked vowels and stuttering consonants. Encouraged by her reaction, he slid his hands around the corners of her thighs and took hold of her ample ass. Once he had a good grip on her, he feasted like a starved man.
Baby Girl dripped so much honey that it covered his fingers, so he used it as a lubricant and started stroking himself. Call him crazy, but one second he could’ve sworn that her body was a giant honeycomb and in the next, she was a field of strawberries.
Finally her free-flowing sound cohered long enough to call on God but soon dissolved into sigh and moans. Then she was as clear as a bell. “I—I—I’m coming.”
Instead of speeding up or intensifying his strokes, Jeremy slowed down…waaaay down. Baby Girl pressed her bottom down in silent urging. When that didn’t work, she started grinding her hips in an attempt to just use his tongue as a prop for her to find her own release.
Amused, Jeremy smiled, turned his head and absently peppered kisses along her inner thigh.

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