Read Online Four Temptations by PJ Adams - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: PJ Adams
Tags: steamy, sexy romance, Love Stories, divorce, Erotic Romance, best friend, anal sex, stranger sex, explicit romance, sexy love stories, confessional, explicit love stories, erotic love, pick-up lines, chat-up lines
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swollen head of his cock was shiny with his juices, and as I watched more clear fluid pulsed out of that dark opening and hung like a silver thread from the head of a shaft that was... oh my... long and broad and–
I reached for him, took him in my hand, felt that hardness, that throbbing and pulsing.
It was his turn to moan, as my hand, lubricated by his juices and mine, started to pull on his manhood. Sliding along his length, turning my fist with a twist of the wrist.
His head was tipped back, his breathing ragged. I tightened my grip, pulling him towards me, pressing that swollen head of his cock against myself. I slipped it between my labia and rubbed it against me, barely dipping inside and then up to my clit and back down again, hard and fast.
Ask me then what I liked most about his body. His strength... he was a man who could easily overpower me. His slim physique, the tightly-packed muscles of his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders. The precision of his movements. That wonderfully impressive cock of his.
Ask me then and I’d tell you it was his eyes.
Those dark eyes, beneath thick eyebrows. Eyes that expressed so much when contact was made and held, when that shy awkwardness had gone, and been taken over by the intensity of his passion.
Those dark eyes, locked on mine, communicating his every response.
The slight widening as he approached his peak.
The muscles in his jaw tightening, his lips parting just a little.
Just before climax, his eyes rolled up, and then back down, fixing me again, and that was the trigger that took me over the edge, too.
The eye contact, the sudden wet heat between us as he came, the throbbing in his shaft as I held it. The hardness suddenly easing, but not going altogether, so that as his climax tailed off I was able to change position a little, press him against my wet opening, and let him push inside.
That pulsing, deep inside me now, filling me... it was as if it caught onto the dying pulses of my own climax and dragged them out, making me clamp around him again and again, until finally we slumped, our breathing ragged, our hearts pounding in unison as we held each other tight.
§
I don’t know how long we stayed like that.
I don’t know what little signal it was that made us untangle ourselves, stand, and walk hand in hand upstairs to my bedroom where we would lose ourselves again in the nervous, beautiful magic of discovering and exploring each other for the first time.
I don’t know how we’d reached this point, or how it had taken us so long to get there.
You’d think I would understand this kind of thing a little better. Unexpected passion, hidden love, the twists and tangles of relationships, temptations that really should be ignored.
Tell me about it.
I’ve been there, seen it all. Written the book and sold the movie.
And maybe that’s the problem.
The Other Woman
Ellie
I never saw myself as the other woman. I always wanted to be the woman.
The other woman made secret trips away. She arranged discreet rendezvous. She had seen the insides of far too many of those shabby little hotels in towns nobody would ever really want to visit, which is exactly why they were perfect. All too well, she knew those parties where they couldn’t be seen together, where all she could hope for was a glance across the room, maybe a discreet touch as they brushed past each other.
My old friend Maggie Nolan’s book launch was the first time we’d been out together, fully in the public eye: me and Porter Swaine. The first time I had been the woman, and not just the other woman. It should have been more significant. It should have been a rite of passage. It should have felt as if I was growing up.
But, if anything, it felt even more seedy than how things had been up until then.
§
Allow me to backtrack a little...
Porter Swaine. Always the flash guy, the boy with the toys, the self-made man who liked to ruffle feathers. He was full of himself, distracted by his
I reached for him, took him in my hand, felt that hardness, that throbbing and pulsing.
It was his turn to moan, as my hand, lubricated by his juices and mine, started to pull on his manhood. Sliding along his length, turning my fist with a twist of the wrist.
His head was tipped back, his breathing ragged. I tightened my grip, pulling him towards me, pressing that swollen head of his cock against myself. I slipped it between my labia and rubbed it against me, barely dipping inside and then up to my clit and back down again, hard and fast.
Ask me then what I liked most about his body. His strength... he was a man who could easily overpower me. His slim physique, the tightly-packed muscles of his abdomen, his chest, his shoulders. The precision of his movements. That wonderfully impressive cock of his.
Ask me then and I’d tell you it was his eyes.
Those dark eyes, beneath thick eyebrows. Eyes that expressed so much when contact was made and held, when that shy awkwardness had gone, and been taken over by the intensity of his passion.
Those dark eyes, locked on mine, communicating his every response.
The slight widening as he approached his peak.
The muscles in his jaw tightening, his lips parting just a little.
Just before climax, his eyes rolled up, and then back down, fixing me again, and that was the trigger that took me over the edge, too.
The eye contact, the sudden wet heat between us as he came, the throbbing in his shaft as I held it. The hardness suddenly easing, but not going altogether, so that as his climax tailed off I was able to change position a little, press him against my wet opening, and let him push inside.
That pulsing, deep inside me now, filling me... it was as if it caught onto the dying pulses of my own climax and dragged them out, making me clamp around him again and again, until finally we slumped, our breathing ragged, our hearts pounding in unison as we held each other tight.
§
I don’t know how long we stayed like that.
I don’t know what little signal it was that made us untangle ourselves, stand, and walk hand in hand upstairs to my bedroom where we would lose ourselves again in the nervous, beautiful magic of discovering and exploring each other for the first time.
I don’t know how we’d reached this point, or how it had taken us so long to get there.
You’d think I would understand this kind of thing a little better. Unexpected passion, hidden love, the twists and tangles of relationships, temptations that really should be ignored.
Tell me about it.
I’ve been there, seen it all. Written the book and sold the movie.
And maybe that’s the problem.
The Other Woman
Ellie
I never saw myself as the other woman. I always wanted to be the woman.
The other woman made secret trips away. She arranged discreet rendezvous. She had seen the insides of far too many of those shabby little hotels in towns nobody would ever really want to visit, which is exactly why they were perfect. All too well, she knew those parties where they couldn’t be seen together, where all she could hope for was a glance across the room, maybe a discreet touch as they brushed past each other.
My old friend Maggie Nolan’s book launch was the first time we’d been out together, fully in the public eye: me and Porter Swaine. The first time I had been the woman, and not just the other woman. It should have been more significant. It should have been a rite of passage. It should have felt as if I was growing up.
But, if anything, it felt even more seedy than how things had been up until then.
§
Allow me to backtrack a little...
Porter Swaine. Always the flash guy, the boy with the toys, the self-made man who liked to ruffle feathers. He was full of himself, distracted by his
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