During my first term at college, Naomi Kurtz was my fuck-of-the-month. Actually, the fuck of several months. A spoiled, girlie brat in designer labels, Naomi was allergic to studying and hard work. But she had the face and body of a straight A pole dancer...
The silky tick of a Regency mantle clock and the drifting calls from a nearby rookery are the only sounds to break the opulent silence of the panelled library.You breathe in the atmosphere of a carefully created man cave.There's the smell of freshly cut...
Charlotte crumpled up the letter with both hands. “He's such a gutless, fuckwit,” she groaned. I laughed and said nothing. “ Get this crap,” she snapped, “Liam, my hot shit, wannabe lover dreams of my warm lips and fragrant hair.” She didn't pause for bre...
Friday, I was a dirty bitch. A panting, squirming, after office- hours, cum slut. And, by the way, I loved every fucking minute of it. And I'd do it all again tomorrow.Mike and Jed are the star stud muffins from Accounts. I really should know better than...
Edward read Emily's text during a hold-up in the late afternoon London traffic, but he didn't reply. He'd wait until he arrived at the airport hotel. And he wanted to decide if he should mention Paul Henderson's wife.He could have jumped Lisa Henderson -...
From her fourth floor office, Miranda watched the street below. Hard sunlight created deep shadows and a breeze half-heartedly stirred leaves on the trees. A black London cab stopped at the opposite kerb. The lone passenger was a tall blonde in a summer d...
