Jilly
Reimers wants love but can't find it. Chris Spinell is a veteran of the
war in Afghanistan who suffers from PTSD and a haunting feeling that
something is missing in his life. Chris Poole is also an Afghanistan war
veteran is ready to break out of his shell but is unsure how.
With
Christmas just around the corner, they decide not to spend it alone.
Believing The Love Play Matchmaking Service to be just what they need
for a night of fun and passion, they sign up. But when the guys show up
and see that they've been set up on a menage, the only one happy about
it is Jilly.
Their
consultant, called an Eros, assures Jilly that the service has a
perfect track record but she's certain they'll be the first ones to get
their money back. Will they have a very merry Christmas? Or will the
three spend yet another one alone?
A Siren Erotic Romance
Book Rating: X (An Erotic Contemporary Menage MFM Romance)
Book Excerpt: PG Excerpt
Jilly
idly twirled a lock of her hair as she gazed at the fire. The meal was
good, a bit awkward, but all right. Now with Chris S. in the shower, she
and Chris P., who’d freshened up after her, sat beside her. She hoped
she’d get a chance to know him a little better, now that they were
alone.
Unlike
Chris S., Chris P. was quiet, more reserved. His warm smile could melt
ice. They’d spoken a bit about his life in Australia and how he met the
other Chris when they were on Diego Garcia, a tiny atoll in the Pacific.
It was there he garnered a better perspective on life, friendships and
love. She reasoned that war tended to do that to a person.
She
looked at him again, admiring what she saw. He was gorgeous. If only
she were a femme fatale like her friends. She pictured grabbing him by
the scruff of his collar and planting a long seductive kiss on his pouty
lips. Anything to ease the tension between her legs and the moisture
dripping from her swollen pussy.
Golden
and sun-kissed like a surfer, he had a look impossible to have around
this time of year in Michigan, unless he spent countless hours in a
tanning booth. But at the same time he didn’t look like the type who’d
go to one. He seemed too rugged. She glanced at his short, flaxen hair,
which he wore pulled back in a stubby tail. It accentuated his keen
facial features. His physique, like that of a gladiator, made her want
to whimper. Built like a brick wall without being too thick, he was
three words—supple, etched, steel. And his Australian accent added to
his raw sexiness.
Whereas
Chris S. was the perfect picture type of the all-American,
boy-next-door type, with light brown hair and sandy-colored tips and
eyes so blue they looked like the color of tropical water. He reminded
her of the high school captain of the football team who’d gone into the
military and become a man, except he had a sensitive edge that permeated
his being. While Chris P., who looked like he could take on a few guys
at once, was more lighthearted and outgoing.
Either
way, she knew she hit the jackpot because both guys were like something
out of a magazine called Hot Guys “R” Us. They were a perfect ten. It
was best Christmas gift anyone could have ever given her. She hoped a
Chris Sandwich was definitely on the menu for the night. But how to get
past the talking stage, she had no clue. She wondered if all of her Love
Play’s match ups started like this.
Wearing
some leggings and a cami, and he a T-shirt and shorts, she suddenly
felt overdressed. The art of seduction was not something they taught in
any of the schools she’d attended, and she sure as hell never picked up
any pointers from her so-called “friends.” And her exes never gave her
any encouragement in that department either.
This date should have come with instructions. I think I’m in trouble.
She let out a long sigh.
“Did you say something?” Chris P. asked, stirring from his long silence.
“I was just thinking how beautiful this place is,” she lied. What? How lame is that?
“It is. I’ve never been to a place quite like this.”
“Love Play has quite a reputation.”
“You’ve used it before?” He perked up, facing her.
Heat burned her cheeks. “No. It’s what I heard from some of their clients.”
“So have you been married?” he asked.
“No.”
“Neither
have I. Never found anyone to get serious with,” he said, shrugging. “I
don’t know. Maybe cupid’s arrow doesn’t work on me.”
“For me they’re defective. Or maybe his aim is bad,” she said, trying to suppress the memory of her ex-boyfriend.
“What do you mean?”
“My
relationships, they never work out.” She shrugged her shoulders. “For
whatever reason, they seem to choose my friends over me. Or it ends up
that way once we get together.”
He
shook his head. “Nah. They were bad blokes from the start. Believe me. I
know. I’ve been around those types my entire life. The randier they
are, the worse they will be. If a man wants you, he’ll stay.” His tone
was soft, almost vulnerable.
Author Bio:
Clare Dargin is an author of Science
Fiction and Romance and has been writing stories all of her life
before being published in 2007. She’s a great fan of the two genres
and loves promoting them.
An educator by profession, she
possesses a Bachelor’s Degree in English from a major mid-western
university. She presently resides in the Midwest and she hopes to
expand her writings to include non-fiction, historical romance, and
contemporary novels.
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