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  "And another thing, Amy."

  "What is it?"

  "That night with Mitch was great. It was hot. You were incredible. But it's never going to happen again."

  "It isn't?"

  "No. I don't share what's mine. You had your one and only menage."

  She let her eyes drift closed, unable to believe she'd found a man like Justin. Then she opened them and saw him--really saw him, for the brilliant, loving man he was. He'd done all that for her, to make her happy.

  "I really do love you," she said, palming his cheeks and brushing her lips across his.

  He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, sliding his tongue inside her mouth to claim her with passionate intent.

  Desire flared and burst inside her. Going two days without Justin had been horrible.

  She'd felt empty inside. Now she needed him to fill her.

  His mouth still doing delicious things to hers, he dragged her flat onto the sofa, searching under her T-shirt and finding her breasts, skimming her nipples until she writhed with need. But when she tried to lift up so she could undress her, he held her down.

  "Stay there," he said, reaching for her sweatpants and jerking them off, leaving her naked from the waist down. He slid off the couch, using his hip to push the coffee table out of the way. He dug a condom out of his pocket and unzipped his jeans, shoving them down his thighs.

  "Hurry," she whispered, lifting her hips while he applied the condom. He pulled her to the end of the sofa and plunged inside her so hard she cried out, her body flexing to accommodate him. He held onto her while he pumped her with relentless strokes, claiming her, possessing her in a way only Justin could. She raked his forearms with her nails, her need for him almost violent in its intensity.

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  Unwrapped

  She couldn't get enough, pushing her pussy onto his cock, wanting him deeper, needing him to fuck her harder. Her pussy poured over him, over them both. She was so close and she wanted him to finish with her.

  "Come with me," she said, grinding her sex against him as she tried to hold back.

  But she was tightening, spiraling, losing control.

  Justin growled, shuddered against her and she climaxed, spasming around his hot cock, bucking up off the couch as she gave him all she had.

  He lay his head on her breasts as they recovered and she stroked his hair, unable to believe this magnificent man was all hers. A man she'd stupidly tried to throw away.

  Relaxed, feeling Justin in her arms and knowing he was never going to leave, she whispered, "Parker and Garrett."

  Justin lifted his head. "Huh?"

  "Parker and Garrett. I think that sounds better."

  "In your dreams. We're going alphabetical. Garrett and Parker."

  "We're going by age. Parker and Garrett."

  "You won't win. I have the bigger dick."

  She gave him a knowing smile. "But I have the pussy."

  He thrust against her, his cock swelling within her again. "I can tell these negotiations might go well into the night."

  She sighed and gave him a wicked smile. "I'm used to working all night."

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  About the Author

  To learn more about Jaci Burton, please visit https://www.jaciburton.com. Send an email to Jaci Burton at [email protected] or join her Yahoo! group at

  https://groups.yahoo.com/group/jaciburtonsparadise to join in the fun with other readers as well as her newsletter at https://groups.yahoo.com/group/jaciburtonjournal for updates

  about future releases.

  Look for these titles

  Now Available

  Rescue Me

  Nothing Personal

  Sneak Peek: Show Me

  Coming Soon

  Holiday Seduction (print anthology with Lauren Dane)

  Sneak Peek (print anthology with Shelley Bradley)

  Crimson Ties

  Love, larceny, and lies.

  Miss Lonely Hearts

  (c) 2007 Charlene Teglia

  When is a love letter not a love letter? When it's mail fraud. Or in this case, female fraud.

  Jason Alexander is one angry Alaskan, and he's out to get his woman; the letter-writing Lolita who's running the Miss Lonely Hearts con game in his bailiwick. She's taking lonely Alaskans for a roller-coaster ride and cashing in on love. When she hits the patrons of his bar The Last Resort, the retired gambler takes it personally and goes out for justice.

  Cassandra Adams has just been dumped by ex-fiance number two. She's fed up with Romance Roulette and ready to trade her rosy daydreams for hardheaded practicality.

  The logical solution? She's going to search the classifieds for the mail-order marrying man she wants.

  She thinks she's found him in Jason, alias Alex Sanders. He thinks he's hooked Miss Lonely Hearts. And the regulars at The Last Resort think it's high time Jason got married, so they're not about to clarify matters when they discover his mistake.

  Together Jason and Cassandra will have to cut their way through the tangle of love, larceny and lies to unmask Miss Lonely Hearts and find a happy ending that's a sure bet.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Miss Lonely Hearts: Jason Alexander looked up from the dull and repetitive task of polishing the shiny oak bar top when the door of The Last Resort swung open. Good, a customer. Something to do, something to relieve the tedium, someone to talk to.

  Until he realized the two large men making their ponderous way to the padded barstools were Dwight and Duke Lawrence.

  The twins never talked. It was an amazing phenomenon, but true, nevertheless. Jason had wondered at it from the first time he'd seen them take those same seats on his first night in residence as the new owner of The Last Resort.

  They hadn't shown the least bit of surprise that the place had changed hands, or any interest in his identity. They'd simply waited until one of the other locals piped up and told him they always had one shot of bourbon and one draft apiece.

  Never one to back down from a challenge, Jason had summoned his considerable charm and slid the beverages in front of them with a smile and a friendly greeting.

  Silence. The only sound came when Duke rustled a bill in paying the tab. Even the raising and lowering of the glasses occurred in an incredible silence, the heavy restaurant glass never clunking when it made contact with the oak bar, but settling gently on the cocktail napkins without a whisper. That this feat of steady, soundless movement came from two men big enough to be mistaken for a pair of Yeti was nothing short of miraculous.

  The tandem performance had amazed Jason then, and it amazed him now.

  Sometimes he wondered if they even realized the bar had changed hands. The previous owner, Lucky Day, had been abandoned by his namesake in Reno. The outcome of that fateful poker game had left Jason Alexander, professional gambler extraordinaire, the sole proprietor of a rustic bar in Southeast Alaska.

  Maybe, he thought with a flash of wicked humor, they couldn't tell the difference because all bartenders looked alike in the dark.

  Not that it was all that dark just then. It was only spring, but already the days were visibly lengthening. The bar's traditional dim lighting was highly augmented by the sun, streaming in through the small windows at full strength. That was one of the things he truly loved about the area. In the summer, the extended daylight lent everyone a kind of exuberance that made up for the long, dark winters. Nobody slept or stayed inside if they could help it.

  In fact, the restless energy of this little city on the Tongass Narrows with the dubious honor of being named Alaska's Rain Capital had appealed to his adventure-loving soul immediately.

  From the moment he'd stepped off the ferry, he'd felt like he'd come home.

  Here, in a place with a history of gold rushes, on a little plot of land in the former red-light district, was a place a gambler and wanderer could settle down in as easily as he could settle behind a blackjack table.

&
nbsp; It fit him and he'd made up his mind immediately, with a gambler's sure instincts, that he wasn't selling The Last Resort. Or putting it up as collateral, either. He was leaving the life of plush hotels and room service behind forever. He was twenty-eight years old and it was time he had a home.

  So Jason had taken up his position behind the bar and never looked back. Two years later, he wasn't sorry.

  But he still hadn't ever managed to get a word out of Dwight or Duke in all that time.

  He only knew which was which because Duke always sat on the left. Also, his well-developed powers of personal observation had detected very slight differences that distinguished one from the other. Dwight sported a faint scar on one cheek and Duke had thicker brows. Still, they were as identical as it was probably possible to get without actually being one and the same person.

  But something about them was different tonight. Jason studied the two dour faces as he served the usual drinks with a flourish. "On the house this time, Duke," he said, knowing it was the left-hand twin's turn to buy. They traded off, another well-established ritual they never deviated from.

  He thought he actually saw a glimmer of surprise in the man's pale eyes. "You're welcome," he responded, as if Duke had spoken instead of nearly blinking.

  With these two, body language was about as verbal as he could expect.

  "Least I can do for you two, since you're looking so down," Jason went on. Dwight definitely twitched as he reached for the bourbon. Interesting. Now what could these two be bothered about? Jason pondered the possibilities. Probabilities were his forte.

  Odds were, they'd finally gotten tired of each other's companionship and gotten lonely in a purely masculine way. That being the case, and being as alike as they were, the two had probably then settled their affections on the same woman.

  "Woman trouble does that to us all," Jason stated in commiseration. "We men have to stick together. Though in your case, I don't recommend you take that too literally. The

  law doesn't recognize three-way marriages." Although employers and official agencies were recognizing every other kind of arrangement these days, and polyamorous groups weren't exactly unheard of. Live and let love. But the law was conservative.

  Both Dwight and Duke rattled their shot glasses when they replaced them on the heavy oak slab. Jackpot!

  "You know, you two might try asking her to choose between you." He offered the suggestion in the time-honored spirit of supportive advice from the bartender to his burdened patrons. Dwight and Duke were apparently unacquainted with the custom personally, but he suspected they stopped in night after night mostly to listen to the talk, even if they didn't participate actively.

  Now, as lacking in verbal skills as they were, how likely was it they'd ever actually say something like that to a woman? It was amazing that they'd even gotten as far as saying hello. Too amazing, Jason realized. Which meant that they hadn't. Which meant they'd been doing their wooing in silence. Which meant...

  "Of course, maybe you shouldn't do a thing like that through the mail. It might go better in person."

  Then it happened.

  Dwight's big fist curled up and thumped the bar in a single, silent shout of frustration and despair. And he spoke.

  "Too late. She dumped us both."

  The rusty admission drew a nod of agreement and pure misery from Duke who chimed in, "Jilted," in the heaviest, creakiest, rustiest voice Jason had ever heard.

  Jilted. Now, that was serious. Jason eyed the two, surprised they'd proposed on paper. Well, not really. How else would they do it, unless they met a deaf woman and communicated by holding up a ring?

  "You mean she agreed to marry both of you?" he asked as the implications of Duke's single contribution to the conversation sank in.

  Two woeful heads nodded once. Two ham hands raised and lowered heavy beer mugs in unison.

  Jason would have given an awful lot to meet the woman who'd do that, he really would. Imagine. Taking on the two Lawrence men. The two enormous Lawrence men.

  The mind boggled. Whoever she was, she was truly an adventurous soul. Although it seemed she'd thought better of her decision to walk on the wild side at the last minute.

  "Well, at least you found out about her in time," Jason offered.

  Two heads hung low.

  Now what did that mean? He swiftly concluded it meant they'd lost more than their hearts. Jason's former life began to pass before his eyes, and the words con artist rang in his head. "My friends," he said, "You have just been done in by Miss Lonely Hearts."

  She wants the adventure of a lifetime and isn't willing to sacrifice it for any man... All he wants is to keep the girl he loved and lost safe, even if she hates him for it...

  Unconditional Surrender

  (c) 2007 Denise A. Agnew

  Archaeologist Fredricka "Freddie" Bodine returns to her hometown for her twentieth high school reunion, unaware that her old crush, Keith Wallace, has blown back into town. One memory is etched deeply on her brain--the high school prom where she shared a single, emotionally revealing dance with him. They'd both left town after graduation, feelings unresolved and teen angst firmly in place.

  Keith doesn't want her to travel to Los Diablos, a lawless area he's visited during Special Forces ops, and the place where his sister was killed years ago.

  As they grapple with family pressures and the exploding passion between them, their battle of wills may just lead them to the truth living in both their hearts.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Unconditional Surrender: Oh, she'd been stupid. She hadn't thought past the end of her nose. "My God. I understand now. You weren't in the desert on your last tour, you were in Mexico."

  "No, I was in Iraq. But you know that intuition I had as a kid? It's screaming that it isn't a good idea for you to go to Los Diablos."

  At first she wanted to take in his caution, a rising anxiety making her vulnerable to fear. "Arnold wouldn't set up a tour if it was dangerous."

  "Yeah, I think he would. He told me he'd checked out reports and heard nothing about extraneous danger. I told him to call a guy I know at the embassy down there." He shifted closer, his eyes serious and dark with emotion. "Do you think I'd lie to you about something like this?"

  "No. No, I don't think you're lying about what you feel. But I'm a scientist, Keith.

  Intuition is all well and good, but when it comes down to it, I need more than a passing gut feeling that Los Diablos might be dangerous." She sighed. "Are you sure this isn't because of what happened to your sister?"

  She saw him wince, and then anger flashed through his eyes. "No."

  For all of a few seconds she considered his plea. Then she realized if she agreed to abandon her dream, she'd never forgive herself. She'd worked too long and hard and paid her dues. Giving up would hurt to the bone. "I've worked for this and come a long way.

  I'm not giving up my dream because something bad might happen. No one's life ever gets lived thinking like that. If I don't go, there will always be a part of me that would regret it. Haven't you ever taken a risk for something you wanted?"

  He clasped her shoulders, then caressed gently. Desire melted in her stomach. She didn't want him to stop touching her, even if he gazed down at her with consternation.

  "Do you trust me?" he asked.

  She didn't need to think. She knew. "Of course. But Keith--"

  "A man you haven't seen in twenty years?"

  She went silent.

  He cupped her neck, and she fell into his eyes, finding a heat there she didn't want to ever leave. He brought her up against him. She wanted his touch, and craved his kiss. As he leaned in, she touched his hard chest. He felt so good. Solid. Reliable.

  "I know one damned thing for certain," he said, his voice husky. "You're dangerous to me."

  Keith tasted Freddie's mouth softly. Tenderness flowed through her as she fell into the moment. His tongue plunged in to take, to caress with hot intensity. Passion erupted inside her as she sank in
to his arms, embraced him wholeheartedly. His arms wrapped tight about her back. Her body reacted as if she'd loved him, made love to him forever.

  Heat burned low in her belly and pooled between her legs. She felt wet, hungry, aching to know him deep and hot. God, she wanted him.

  He drew back and took in deep breaths, his eyes smoldering with his intentions.

  His arms stayed tight around her. "That was...wow." He grinned ruefully.

  She couldn't help but smile along with him, the happiness swelling in her chest and dying to escape. "What are we doing here? Are you kissing me to convince me not to head to Mexico?"

  His eyes cooled. "No, damn it. Why do you think that?"

  Instant regret charged through her. "Keith, what is this we're doing? Are we starting something that..."

  "We can't finish." His expression turned somber. "That's what you think?"

  She cupped his face. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I'm...this whole thing took me by surprise."

  He released her. Keith traced her chin with his index finger. "Me, too. Let's just take it one day at a time, okay?"

  Her heart sank, but she should have felt relief. Maybe. Otherwise she'd have to admit inside that she didn't want to take it slow. She wanted him between her legs, pumping out his satisfaction and firing hers. She wanted him with a fierceness that stunned her.

  Oh, yeah. I've got it bad.

  "Come on. Let's go back inside before one of your siblings sneaks out and sees us kissing," he said.

  "In that case, let's give them something to look at."

  His eyes widened, then a slow smile broke over his lips. "You sure?"

  She giggled, feeling girlish despite the seriousness of their conversation a moment ago. "If I know my family, they're probably taking a peek right now trying to see where we went."

  "That nosy, eh?"

  "That nosy."

  She slipped back into his arms, and they came together in a fresh kiss.

  This time Keith kept his kiss civilized, not as uncontrolled. His earlier kiss still raged inside him, a ferocious explanation for the tumult he experienced. Temptation slammed him. He wanted her. Here. Now. He wondered if she was as hot for him as he was for her.