Without Restraint Facebook Party Pt. 4

Here's the fourth section of my contest to win prizes I'll be giving away on my Facebook Launch Party:

This is the grand prize question. First place is a Kindle Fire, 2nd Place is a $25 gift certificate to the online bookstore of your choice, and 3rd place is a signed copy of WITHOUT RESTRAINT.

Please note that you can't participate if you're under 18, because this content is strictly adult. 

You can buy Without Restraint on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, among others.

Alex gasped, imagining being tied and helpless while that whip bit her ass and straining thighs. Frank’s feral gaze on her, hungry as the hard jut of his cock behind his blue-jeaned fly, accompanied by the click of riding boots. Building her heat until she thought she’d burst into flame from sheer lust. Until even he couldn’t take it anymore, and his zipper hissed, loud in the gasping quiet, and he thrust deep, so deep, seeming to fill her all the way to her back teeth.

Her hips pumped helplessly, her mind leaped to the memory of the way he’d stalked her, that gorgeous cock swaying . . .

The first notes of the Beatles’ “Let it Be” rose above Thumper’s delicious hum.

“Oh, you have got to be kidding me!” Alex panted in frustration. She was so close . . .

And her mother would be so pissed if she let the call go to voice mail. Mary Rogers knew her schedule as well as she did. Jerking Thumper out of her frustrated sex, Alex switched the vibe off and tossed it aside. Scooping up her cell, she swiped a thumb across its screen, cutting off Paul McCartney in mid-be. “Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, baby!” Mary said, her voice sounding so loving it was hard to be pissed even under the circumstances. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Alex managed not to grind her teeth. Her mother could detect emotional nuances better than a homicide cop grilling a suspect. “Nah, just killing time. What’s up?”

“Nothing, dear. I couldn’t help noticing you weren’t in church yesterday. Remember, I told you I wanted to introduce you to that nice boy I told you about. The electrician?” Anybody under forty was a boy to her mother.

“Yeah, sorry. Rough night.”

“I really think you’d like him. He’s so cute, and such a nice man!”

I don’t want a nice man, Ma. I want a man who will beat my ass with a riding crop. Which was not something she could say to her mother. Ever. “I’m not looking for anything serious right now, Mom. I don’t think it’s fair to start a relationship I don’t intend to pursue.”

“You need to get back on the horse, honey. I know Gary hurt you . . .”

You have no idea. She hadn’t told her mother what her ex-lover had done that last brutal night, explaining the bruises away as being the result of a fight with a drunk. Which had been perfectly true. She just hadn’t told her mother who the drunk was. If she had, the sheriff would have had to charge her dad, her three brothers—and probably Mary herself—with first-degree lynching.

Hell, it had been all Alex could do to keep Cap and Ted from beating the fuck out of Gary, not that she hadn’t been tempted to let them go to it.

Apparently he’d had that effect on somebody else. Someone who’d actually done it.

So now she said only, with perfect honesty, “I’m over Gary. I’ve been over Gary.” Since he stopped using a flogger and started using his fists.

Though he still didn’t deserve to die that way. She didn’t grieve for Gary, but she did pity him.

“Good. You should be. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but your father and I never liked that man. I do not understand what you saw in him.”

“In retrospect, neither do I.”

Her mother, of course, pounced on the opening like SIG on a catnip mouse. “That’s why I think you’ll really like Jimmy. He really is a perfect gentleman. Why don’t you come to prayer meeting Wednesday, and I’ll introduce you?”

Oh, God, no. Trouble was, she hated disappointing her mother.

A flamethrower blast of guilt made Alex mentally writhe. If her mom knew what she’d done last night, where she’d been, what she’d been doing for years . . . Imaging the shock and horror on her parents’ faces, she shuddered.

“Alexis?” Mary prompted. “Do you think you can make it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve got work that night.”

“Alexis Eleanor Rogers, your shift starts at midnight,” her mother said, exasperated. “You could be home from church in plenty of time to get ready, even if you and Jimmy go out for coffee afterward.”

“I’ll see, Mom. Look, I’ve got to go. If I don’t get in my five miles now, I’m not going to get them in at all.”

Her mother had been married to a high school coach too long not to understand the importance of working out. “Well, all right, dear. Love you!”

“Love you, too, Mom.” Alex swiped her thumb over the screen’s end button and slumped back against the pile of pillows, flinging one arm over her eyes.

Facebook Launch Party Pt. 3

Here's the third section of my contest to win prizes I'll be giving away on my Facebook Launch Party:

There will be two questions based on this section. For each question, the first two people to respond with the correct answer will win a prize. So there are a total of four winners for this scene.

Please note that you can't participate if you're under 18, because this content is strictly adult. 

You can buy Without Restraint on Amazon and Barnes and Noble, among others.

 

She dreamed of hard male hands and a rough voice crooning erotic orders.

Which was why waking up with a cat’s ass in her face was so disconcerting. “Meow!” the ass said in a distinctly demanding tone.

“Jesus, SIG, get your butt out of my face.” Alex batted the Siamese’s chocolate-tipped tail away from her nose.

“Meow.” SIG Sauer turned and rolled his fuzzy head against her chin.

“All right, all right, I’m up. Way to ruin a perfectly good wet dream, furball.”

Tumbling reluctantly out of bed, Alex bent to pick up last night’s dress and hang it up in the closet, as she’d been too pleasure-drunk to do the night before. Scratching her ribs through the black Morgan County Sheriff’s Office T-shirt she’d worn to bed, she wandered into the bathroom, SIG bitching at her heels. She took care of business to the sounds of the cat’s increasingly irate Siamese curses.

“Keep your fur coat on. I’ll feed you in a minute.”

There were only four rooms in the old house, not counting the bathroom her great-grandparents had built onto the back porch five decades before. Alex padded out of the main bedroom, through the den, and into the kitchen, avoiding SIG’s affectionate attempts to trip her on the way.

In the kitchen, an elderly white refrigerator hummed and rattled across from an equally ancient electric stove. A rubber dish drainer sat on the counter beside the stainless steel sink, dark brown to match the wallpaper’s crowing roosters. Yellowing lace curtains hung at the tiny window. The morning sunlight shone through them, casting golden light and lacy shadows on worn, brown-speckled linoleum.

But old though the house was, she didn’t have to pay rent. She’d inherited it from her grandmother, and had been damned glad to get it. Besides, she was doing good to afford cat food on a deputy’s salary. Renovations were out of the question.

Worn linoleum felt cool underfoot as she got SIG a can of cat food from one of the cabinets. The can opener ground over the sound of his increasingly frantic meows. “Oh, for God’s sake, you’d think you hadn’t been fed in a week.” Alex dumped the can into his bowl, and watched him plunge his head into it with a satisfied feline growl.

Which reminded her of the much deeper growl Frank had produced while plunging his cock into her helpless cunt. God, what an arousing scene. As she filled SIG’s water dish, she tried to remember the last time she’d burned that hot for a man. And came up blank.

No surprise. If she’d special ordered her ideal Dom, Frank would have been it: towering, chiseled, and just sadistic enough to be interesting. The mere thought of him made cream flood her pussy until she gave serious thought to going in search of her vibrator.