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Scarlet Pierce

By Scarlet Pierce

2016 Scarlet Pierce

All Rights Reserved Worldwide

o part
of this book may be copied, downloaded to the Internet, reproduced, or transmitted in any way without prior written permission from the author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, incidents, etc., are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously.

2016 Scarlet Pierce

ISBN: 978-1-5238-6537-6


To everyone who made my first novel possible—you know who you are

Author’s Note

you so much for reading! I hope you enjoy the following story as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is my first novel, so if you loved it please review it and share it with others! Thanks again!


If you would like to sign up to my mailing list or be an ARC reviewer, please sign up here:

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Clif Jackson


Oh shit. This is a situation I definitely want to avoid.

By situation, I mean Taylor Dell. She's hot, conceited and married to Texas oil money. And like half the people in this room she's wasted out of her mind.

But worst of all, she’s crazy—and I don’t mean that in a good way, like between the sheets. No, she’s crazy in the head, literally. I can see her bright pink and purple headdress weaving through the scrum of professional skiers, wealthy venture capitalists, and trust-fund-baby ski bums packed into this expansive hilltop mansion in Jackson, Wyoming.

The main problem is I had Taylor last week in the hot tub of her husband's million-dollar ski condo. Yeah, she was good and all, but I got a rule: I only sleep with a girl once. Been that way ever since I was 19 and left Wyoming for the west coast. My rule's kept me out of trouble, and relationships, ever since.

The other problem: Taylor's bad for business. Being seen publicly with a nut job like her isn’t advantageous for my company’s image. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not squeaky clean, far from it. In fact, Vice Magazine just labeled me 'Most Hated Millionaire Bachelor' this side of the Rockies. Nevertheless, even I have standards, and Taylor doesn’t fit them. Of course, I make sure to smile and nod; I am a gentleman after all, even if my repute among women is less than stellar.

Just a little upward tilt of my chin is all Taylor gets before I make my escape. Fingers crossed, she's too drunk to even notice.

Clif! Come here!
" she positively shouts.

Or not.

Faces turn and look in my direction. One ski bro with a weathered face glares at me. A cougar in the corner touches her hair back and points her tits my way. The usual scene. If you say ‘Clif’ around these parts everyone will know who you’re talking about: yours truly. I pour some liquor down my throat and get ready to deal with Taylor.

"Oh my God, Clif!" She rushes over and pushes up against me, glowing. "You ran out so fast the other week I never got to say goodbye!" Her lips linger on the salty rim of her cocktail glass, as she looks up with big brown eyes. It brings me back to the other night in the hot tub.


Taylor's dressed
too scantily in a colorful sequin wrap and knee-high teal cowboy boots with sparkles. Especially for a girl who's married. You'd think her husband, the third-richest man in Texas, would keep a closer eye on her...even if he's 80 and dying in a Mayo Clinic hospital room.

Her outfit looks like it could blow away in one of his emphysema-rattled coughs. It's unfortunate about her partying while he's dying and all. But seeing a smoking tight body like that...flawless porcelain skin, yoga-toned ass...damn.

I remember she was a little small for my nine inches. And I remember how her pale body flushed all over when I finally brought her inside and fucked her hard on the bed. The things we did that night were so dirty even
was ashamed, and that's saying something.

But a rule's a rule.

"Sorry, Taylor," I whisper into her ear as I lean in for a quick hug.

She's thinking about that night. Hell, I bet she's been thinking about it ever since. I pull away quickly before anyone has a chance to capture a photo of us and put it on their Facebook page.

"You can say ‘goodbye’ to me now. Gotta hit another party."


I shrug.

"You're an asshole."

Guilty as charged.

I turn to leave, but not before a big hand claps me on the back.

Hey Clif!
Bro, we had no idea you were here," a vaguely familiar face shakes my hand.

His partner saves my ass and is next to shake. "Ryan Waters and associates. Didn't know you were in town, Mr. Jackson."

So much for a dignified exit.

The company I help run, the Seven Group, has been doing business with Ryan's national landscaping chain for years. Schmoozing is ninety percent of my job, so there's no way I can leave now. Especially since I haven't seen Ryan in over a year.

"What brings you gentlemen to Jackson?"

"Same old. Some rich debutante wants eco-friendly landscaping on her property, you know, combating climate change and stuff. Bro, it's been too long! Let's rage."

I shake hands, bump fists, give bro hugs. I'm used to this routine. It would be just another epic Saturday night in Jackson if it weren't for Taylor clinging to me like a parasite.

She's tugging at my elbow now, demanding attention. "I thought you were leaving, cowboy?” She couldn't look happier.

Rubbing her gorgeous tits against me makes the other guys in the room gawk. She's free to tease me all she wants just as long as she doesn't expect anything.

Besides, something else has caught my eye: the brunette who came with Ryan. Cute, slender, looks young enough to be in college. She's got a charming, slightly upturned little nose and just a splash of freckles...and tits too perfect to be real. Gotta be a rich sorority girl or something, spending daddy's money on winter break.

She's from out of town, always a plus.

A chorus of screams goes up as a guy comes flying down the handrail of the big spiral staircase in his stocking feet, like he's grinding a skateboard. A pack of girls flashes their tits in approval, and the crowd gets even louder. I catch the bros staring. Taylor's nails dig into my back.

My eyes search out the brunette's. She smiles when our eyes meet. Taylor is hanging on for dear life.

Yeah, this is going to be easy.

Ryan pulls his girl in tighter.

"I'll be back, boys,” I say to Ryan and his companion. “Gotta make the rounds." I pull Taylor in by the waist, giving her some love. Oh well, probably fifty pics of us were snapped already, what’s the use trying to avoid her now? She’s ecstatic, might as well give her five minutes of fame. Too bad the poor thing will be in tears shortly when I drop her faster than Ryan's pants after one beer too many.

I grab a handful of the brunette's ass when I walk past her, a spur of the moment thing. Just can’t help myself. I must have read the moment right because the next time I see her she is staring at me and literally licking her lips.

Like I said: easy.

I watch as another drunk rider careens down the rail, this time upping the ante on an actual snowboard. He sticks it, the crowd goes absolutely wild. When he reappears, it's upside-down over a keg.

"Let's go upstairs," Taylor keeps insisting, pulling at my shirt. Temptation is groaning in my gut. If she keeps this up she’s going to learn about the amendment to my rule. Some girls do get a second ride, but on one strict condition.

A waitress in a slutty elf costume floats through carrying a tray of shots. I take a refreshment for myself, plus one for the lady.

I inch my way through the crowd with Taylor, glad-handing everyone I know and looking for someone I can use to make her jealous. I find her sitting at the end of the bar by herself, nursing a cocktail. She's bored, flipping through something on her phone.

"Hi, Clif."

I rack my brain for a name. "Hey Vanessa. What's up?" I hope that’s it. A beautifully preserved woman in her early thirties; I've never had the honor of doing her, and I've got a thing for older women. Mmm yeah: Vanessa and Taylor together: that's what's on my mind.

"Victoria,” she corrects me. "Not much. Just looking at your Instagram and hoping you'll fuck me."

"No you're not."

She gives me a Mona Lisa smile and pockets her phone.

Taylor's nails sink in again. This time it's urgent. If she can't convince me to break my rule and fuck her, I guess she'll just permanently attach herself instead. I pluck her off like an irritated housecat and cup her tits to keep her calm.

"Hey! You girls play nice." I press Taylor close to make sure she hears every word. I want my intentions to be clear. "You'll get to know each other really well tonight. Or no round two." I can feel Taylor’s burst of anxiety before she rolls her eyes and shoots Victoria another glare.

But I bet she'll come around. Hell, I know she will.

"I said ‘nice.’ Victoria. Drink." I hand her a shot.

Taylor holds still as Victoria pours the draught down her throat. I feel my cock begin to throb, shoved against that soft ass. Damn. This is going to happen.

We all move towards the door.

I let Ryan’s sorority girl know where I live on the way out, just in case she wants to stop by for cheese and crackers later. “Just let yourself in; the ladies and me will be in the back.”

Moonshot. A cowboy can dream.

Then it's just a short drive to my pad. I insist we enjoy the January sunset from the hot tub. It's lightly snowing, and with the purple-golden mountains as a backdrop this place couldn't look any more unreal.

Victoria changes into a bikini that someone left last week, and Taylor makes do with bra and panties. Light blue lace with little rainbows, perfect against that porcelain skin. We head out back, drinks in hand. Taylor's still hanging all over me, but Victoria's keeping her distance. She runs a finger up my spine when I lower myself in the water. Yeah, older women—they know what’s up.

This night is just getting started.

I lean back against the rim of the hot tub and let my body float. I know Taylor wants my cock already, and it's driving her crazy. She's got that look.

"Taylor, darling. Could you take your new friend's top off?"

I watch her untie it. Damn, Victoria. Then I watch them make out, tits pressed together and everything. The girls don't notice the sunset: I guess they're not into nature stuff.

Five minutes later and it's my trunks that are being untied. I hope Taylor's ready for a lesson in advanced oral from Victoria. Too bad Sorority Girl is late to class.

But the moment I think about her she appears on deck. She's in bra and panties, like Taylor.
Couldn't stay away, huh?
I think to myself.

I say to her: "The water's perfect. And I left a space for you right here. Taylor, move in a little."

"Aren't you a perfect gentleman," Sorority Girl teases.

She wades in and flashes a smile, excited. Yeah, you should be...I'm about to give you the night of your life, and you don't even know it yet. You and your two new friends.

My cock is in her mouth when I finally get around to introductions. Turns out her name is India—guess mom and dad were hippies.

"Hey! Taylor, calm down," I scold. She's way too out-of-control for her own good. I knew it from the minute I saw her last week.

Maybe I shouldn’t have brought her here after all—trouble with a capital ‘T’.

But whatever. Trouble is what I'm good at.

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