Genres: Heterosexual, Romance
Editor(s): Derrick N. Davidson
Cover Designer(s): Siol na Tine
Cover Art Credits: Photos © Mocker at Dreamstime.com
Production Editor(s): Erika L. Firanc
Proofreader(s): Todd Michaels
Length: Novella (14,000 Words)
Publication Date: November 10, 2015
Serialization Date: Upcoming
Archive(d) on (To be Determined)
Tags: interracial, m/f/m, Novella
Content Labels (What they are and why we use them)
Regina admired his pert ass clearly outlined by his trousers as Lane crossed over to the wet bar. Yum. A pale, white ass. Her nails would leave red marks across it when he fucked her. Why did that idea make her feel flushed?
Lane refilled Clayton’s glass with fresh ice and dashed in a shot. “Ma’am, what can I get you?”
“Some white wine, I guess.” Regina decided she could use it. He found the chilled chardonnay in the refrigerator and brought over the drinks. Her heartbeat intensified. In her fantasy, the faceless white man had been at her beck and call sexually, but she’d never imagined him serving them both like this. She decided she liked it.
“Just relax, sir,” Lane said as he handed Clayton his scotch. “I’ll take care of things.”
Chewing on his lip, Clayton settled into his favorite armchair. Lane gave Regina the wine. Then he sunk down on his knees right there at her feet.
“I hear it’s your birthday.”
Regina covered another shy giggle with a sip of the crisp wine as Lane’s pale hand touched on her dark one. White men had ogled her before, but she’d never had any admire her as intensely as Lane did now, as if she were the most beautiful woman in the world.
“It’s an honor to be your birthday present,” Lane added softly. “I sure hope I’ll be special enough.”
Regina heard those words, and any remaining resistance to Lane melted out of her. She’d half expected him, she realized, to put on airs, maybe boast of his love-making abilities, or try to stimulate her by detailing all he was going to do to her. That would have rubbed her the wrong way. Instead, he’d spoken as if it was a great privilege to be showing her a good time. Like he really was a birthday present and his only wish was to make her happy.
That meant there was nothing to fear; there was only the opportunity to enjoy. Relaxing at last, Regina set aside the wine and, without intending it, touched his golden curls.
Regina had been a bit shy in her youth, and before meeting Clayton, she’d dated neighbor boys, well-known and familiar. Strange as it seemed even to her, this meant she’d never had the opportunity to touch hair like Lane’s. It was as silky-satiny soft as it looked and glorious to the touch. The curls flipped this way and that through her fingers. Unable to resist, she lowered her head to rub her cheek against that mane, and Lane bent his head to make it easier.
She let her hand drift down to stroke his clean-shaven jaw. His skin was smooth, even to his throat with its knobby Adam’s apple.
Suddenly realizing what she was doing, she gulped, and glanced toward Clayton. Her husband had frozen, drink in hand. She saw a fire in his eyes, flickering hot, but not from displeasure. They were burning with desire for her so intense she felt a warm wetness between her thighs. If her touching Lane’s hair and face had gotten him that riled up, what would he feel if he saw her fucking him? The thought made her mouth go dry with excitement.
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