Swing (29 page)

Melissa lifted her pelvis then shifted downward again, thrusting his rock-hard cock deep inside her. Suzanne

followed Melissa's rhythm. Melissa moved up and down, her pleasure riding higher. Suzanne moaned. Melissa

cried out. Ty's hard cock stroked her insides. His hands cupped her breasts, stroking her nipples. Pleasure

swel ed within her. He shifted one hand to her pussy, then tweaked her clit.

"Oh, Ty, I'm . . . Yes, I'm going to . . ." She wailed as a spike of sensation—thril ing and potent—erupted through her, wild in intensity.

"Come for me, Melissa. I love it when you come."

Ecstasy spiraled through her in dizzying waves of bliss. Ty thrust harder and faster, and the heat of his climax

flooding her womb sent her orgasm to a higher level. She clung to him, loving him, and loving his strength

flowing into her.

Beside her, Suzanne's orgasmic moan shuddered through Melissa, sending her over the edge again. Shane

groaned and Suzanne rode him hard, wailing the whole time. Ty swirled inside Melissa and she cried out, a third

orgasm claiming her.

Final y, she sucked in a deep breath and col apsed on top of Ty. His arms encircled her and he cradled her

against his firm chest, his cock still embedded inside her.

She had never felt so loved.

Maybe the swinging lifestyle wasn't so bad. She gazed at the faces of Ty, her husband-to-be, and her two very

special friends—and she realized it was better than not bad. It was sensational.

Read on for a preview of Opal Carew's upcoming erotic romance

Blush

Available from St. Martin's Griffin in July 2008

HANNA'S RELATIONSHIPS HAVE ALWAYS FIZZLED BECAUSE SHE'S never been able to shed her inhibitions and get

comfortable in the bedroom. But al that changes when she meets J. M., an instructor who teaches courses in

Tantra and Kama Sutra, and he offers to give her a hands-on lesson she won't soon forget. . ..

"I want an orgasm." Hanna's hands clenched into fists in her lap as she stared at her sister across the table.

Her sister, Grace, cleared her throat.

"I think the drink is called A Screaming Orgasm," Grace said loud enough for the people around them to hear.

They both knew that wasn't what Hanna had meant. She glanced around the restaurant and noticed people

staring at them and her cheeks flushed hotly. She lowered her voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a tad frustrated."

"I'll bet. Have you tried one of those vibrators with the thing—"

"Yes, it doesn't work," Hanna answered shortly, not real y wanting to talk sex toys with her big sister. "Nothing works."

She didn't real y want to have this conversation at al , but she didn't know what else to do.

Grace patted Hanna's hand. "You'll find someone soon. When you're in a relationship again—"

"No, it won't matter."

"Honey, I know what you and Grey had was very special, but you'll find someone special again and with him—"

"No, you don't understand. Grey and I never . . ." She stared into Grace's intense gaze. "I mean, I've never . . ."

"Ever?"

Hanna shook her head, her gaze fixed on the water glass in front of her and the condensation beading on the

crystal surface.

"Even with Grey? But he was so sexy. And considerate, and patient."

Hanna nodded. "I know. It wasn't his fault."

Grace nodded. "That's true. The only person who can give you an orgasm is you. You have to let it happen."

"You're not going to tell me just to relax, are you? If I hear that one more time, I'm going to scream."

She'd read every book she could find on the subject and they al insisted that the woman just had to relax and

allow it to come. But what if she couldn't relax?

Grace's lips pursed as she watched Hanna.

"Why haven't you told me about this before?"

"It isn't exactly the kind of thing you want to go running to your big sister about."

Grace squeezed Hanna's hand. "It is exactly the kind of thing you can come running to me about, honey." She

paused. "Is that why you broke up with Grey?"

Hanna had known her sister would ask that. After all, Hanna and Grey had seemed perfect for each other. But

Grace didn't know that in the year they'd been together, he'd never once told her he loved her.

Hanna's heart had ached to hear the words, but although he'd been a hot, hungry lover, outside the bedroom

he'd seemed almost . . . distant.

She had wanted to ask him outright if he loved her, but she remembered when Grace had separated from her

husband and one long tearful evening her sister had confided to her that Derrick, Grace's ex-husband, had said

the words of love throughout their marriage, but had only been mouthing what he'd known she'd want to hear.

Hanna didn't want false words of love from Grey. If they weren't genuine, they were better left unsaid.

She had finally decided that if he still didn't love her after all that time, he probably never would. She

remembered Susan, her friend from school, who had stayed with a guy for over six years, longing for a

commitment from him, only to finally break up and see the guy marry someone else within two years. Hanna

didn't want to end up wasting that much time. She wanted marriage and a family, but she refused to push Grey

into it. That didn't make for a sound relationship.

So she had ended it.

Even though she stil loved him.

Pain lanced through her heart. She missed him every single day . . . and night. As distant as he seemed during

the day, she'd always felt loved and cherished snuggled in his arms in bed.

Tears welled in her eyes and she dashed them away.

"Oh, honey." Grace pul ed her into a warm embrace and patted her back.

Hanna accepted her big sister's hug, then slowly drew away, still thinking about Grey.

"We just weren't right for each other."

How could she settle for less? How could she ask Grey to settle for less?

Grace looked skeptical, but she let the subject drop.

"Okay, honey, what are you doing to solve the problem?"

Her sister, a holistic healer, was a firm believer that everyone was responsible for their own problems . . . and

solutions.

"I've been reading books." She gazed at Grace. "And I'm talking to you."

Grace's eyes glowed with warmth and she smiled.

"There's a ten-week course at the col ege, in the evenings. I believe it starts next week. I know the guy who's

teaching it and he's exceptional."

Hanna's eyes narrowed. "What kind of course?"

"It's called Kama Sutra for the Beginner, but he discusses different sexual issues and one of the things he talks

about is female orgasm and the fact that a lot of women have trouble achieving it. I know the instructor and I've

recommended a couple of my patients take the workshop."

"I'm already signed up."

"You are?" Grace's eyebrows rose. Obviously, she didn't believe her.

Grey had signed them up for that course, hoping it would help her with her problem. Now that they'd broken

up, though, she couldn't bear to take the course. Not that she would tel Grace that.

Taking the course would remind her that she wasn't with Grey. It would remind her of the frustration they'd

both shared. It would remind her how hard he had tried to make it work between them, despite her problem.

"Okay, so why don't you do something wild and different. Something you've never done before."

"Like what?"

"Well, maybe find some sexy guy—someone you don't even know—and make wild, passionate love. If you don't

know him, you can act differently. You don't have to be yourself. You can be wild and uninhibited. Maybe then

you can let go of what's holding you back."

Wild and uninhibited. Hanna's stomach tightened.

"Oh, no, I don't think so."

"Why not?"

"A complete stranger? That's crazy."

"Sometimes you need to let loose. Do something crazy. But it doesn't have to be a complete stranger. It could be

someone you've seen a few times. Maybe been attracted to. You could even form a relationship after . . . or not.

The point is not to worry about it. That's where the freedom lies."

Goose bumps shivered down her spine. The thought actual y excited her. How insane was that?

In fact, she thought about the tal , sexy man who'd started coming into the Hot Spot Caf´, the coffee shop she

owned, a couple of weeks ago. He had eyes the color of espresso and a deep, melodic voice that sent tingles

down her spine every time he spoke. And he was exceptional y good looking, with a strong, straight nose, a

square jaw softened by the waves of dark curls that caressed his collar. She had found herself making an excuse

to help out behind the counter whenever he came in so that she could serve him. Organic Earl Grey tea with

milk and natural cane sugar. He was always warm and friendly . . . and his masculine smile melted her insides.

Maybe her sister's suggestion wasn't so crazy after all.

J.M. walked along the stone path through the campus, which was lit by the streetlights and the soft glow of an

almost full moon. A light, warm breeze rustled through the trees as he stepped toward the traffic light on the

corner of Stevens Street and Main, the col ege campus behind him.

Ordinarily, he would head straight home this late, but he had a craving for an Earl Grey tea with Bergamot oil. Or

more, a craving to see the attractive woman who frequently served him his tea in the coffee shop across from

the campus.

The light changed and he crossed the street. It was unlikely she'd be on duty now, since he usual y saw her there

in the late afternoon, but it didn't really matter. All they'd ever done was exchange a few friendly words while

he'd waited for his tea, then he'd been on his way. Of course, if the shop was stil open—which he doubted on a

Thursday night at nine thirty—and if she was there . . . and if the opportunity presented itself . . . then maybe

he'd ask her out.

His intuition told him this could be his lucky night.

The bel over the door rang and Hanna hurried to finish clearing the tray of dishes, wishing she'd locked the door

after the last customer had left a few moments ago.

"I'll be with you in a moment," she said over her shoulder as she wiped the tray and placed it on the stack of clean ones.

She was already here twenty minutes after closing. There had been a rush of people about a quarter to nine,

and they'd kept coming in. Someone had mentioned there'd been a special speaker at the psychology building

tonight and the talk had ended at eight thirty.

She turned around and stopped cold as she found herself facing the tal , dark-haired man she'd been dreaming

about ever since her sister suggested she jump a stranger. Her cheeks flushed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." He smiled. "I'm glad you're still open."

"Wel , actual y, we aren't." Oh, damn, why had she said that? "I mean, I can stil get you something, but . . . I'm just closing up now."

"You're sure?"

"Of course. I haven't turned off the machine yet, and there's stil plenty of hot water." She smiled, but glanced toward the door, hoping no one else would come in. "An Earl Grey? I have decaf if you'd like. Naturally

decaffeinated."

"That would be great."

Her gaze strayed to the large front window and a couple walking by, gazing into the shop. She grabbed the key

from the drawer under the till.

"Look, would you mind locking the door for me?" She placed the key with the brass cup and saucer key holder

on the counter. "It's actually past closing time and I don't want any more customers tonight."

"Absolutely."

She grabbed a tal mug from the shelf and fil ed it with hot water, then ripped open the foil pouch on the tea bag

as he walked across the store. When she heard the click of the lock, she realized she was in the shop all alone at

night with a sexy, attractive man. One she'd been having hot dreams about.

She dipped the bag in the steaming water until it reached the darkness she knew he liked and she fil ed it with

milk and one packet of cane sugar, then placed the cup on the maple counter. He placed the key beside it, along

with a couple of bills to pay for the tea.

"I was going to take it to go so I wouldn't keep you."

She stared at the ceramic cup she'd given him.

"Oh, sorry. I can put it in a take-out cup . . . or . . . you're welcome to enjoy it here, if you like. I've, uh, got some leftover banana walnut muffins I can't serve tomorrow." Great, she'd just offered him what sounded like stale

muffins. "On the house."

She lifted the glass cover from the decorative plate containing three muffins, picked up the tongs and placed the

biggest, fattest muffin on a plate and handed it to him.

He smiled. "Thank you. These are my favorite."

She knew that. He ordered them every time they had some. So she'd added them to the menu more often just

in case he came by.

She dropped the rest in a paper bag and curled the top.

"Actual y, take the rest, too. I'd just wind up taking them home and I don't need any more muffins."

He took the bag. "Are you this generous with all your customers?"

"No, not real y, I uh . . ." She paused, worried he would think she was flirting with him, then realized that's exactly what she was doing. She just wasn't very good at it.

"I just hate to see them go to waste."

She really wasn't good at this!

"Here's to finding myself locked in a coffee shop with a cup of tea, a muffin . . . and a beautiful woman." He held up his cup. "Would you join me?"

His warm, inviting smile chased away any thoughts of refusal.