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Riptide Publishing

PO Box 6652

Hillsborough, NJ 08844

http://www.riptidepublishing.com

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of

the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or

dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Romeo Club #2: Rubbed the Right Way

Cover Art by Jordan Taylor, http://jordantaylorbooks.com

Editor: Aleksandr Voinov and Rachel Haimowitz

Layout: L.C. Chase

or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any

information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the publisher,

and where permitted by law. Reviewers may quote brief passages in a review. To request

permission and all other inquiries, contact Riptide Publishing at the mailing address above,

at Riptidepublishing.com, or at chris@riptidepublishing.com.

ISBN: 978-1-937551-14-8

Printed in the United States of America

First edition

December 2011

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Are you willing to put yourself into our hands?

After being stood up by his ex in Costa del Sol, Romeo Club member Brady
seeks a cure for rejectionitis among the welcoming and well-toned arms of a
number of other Club members. After a night of beachfront fantasy and erotic
massage, Brady needs no coaxing to put himself into the able hands of Kyle, the
Romeo Club’s master masseur.

To Kyle, “deep tissue massage” means much, much more than rubbing out tense
shoulders and backs. Beneath Kyle’s sure fingers and even surer cock, Brady
reaches heights of pleasure beyond his wildest imaginings. Just one problem
with what Kyle has to offer: after sampling his many skills, Brady knows he’ll
need to come back for a second taste, and a third, and a fourth . . .

Once you’ve been rubbed the right way, you’ll never think of erotic massage
quite the same again.

bout

ubbed

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rotic massage: sexual stimulation, arousal, and fantasy.”
Or so read the graphic brochure. I tore my gaze from
the promised pleasure, swallowed hard, and checked

my watch for the fifth time as I paced the massage room at Romeo’s.
The masseur was now

ten minutes late. Damn it, waiting was not my

forte.

Sensual Latin rhythms wafted in the background, taking me back

to the El Oceano Hotel in Costa del Sol, where I’d waited for three
days before accepting that

what’s-his-name wasn’t going to show. I

swayed to the beat, remembering the hotel’s balmy, open-air ballroom;
after I accepted the painful truth, I wasted no time getting into the
vacation mood again. I spotted Paolo, the impressively hung pool
boy, treated myself to an overabundance of mojitos, and indulged
in the best beach sex I’d ever had. Sure cure for rejectionitis. Before
the supposed honeymoon ended, there had been many Paolos, and
each and every one proved to be just what I’d needed to forget the
asshole.

Framed, sepia-toned photographs on the wall distracted me from

my heart-mending romp through Spain.

Mmm, the genital massage

looked inviting. Oily, strong hands sliding over Señor Cock, playing
with my balls, working me over until I was hard as stone . . . No help
needed there. The photos did a fine job, thank you very much.

Since Spain, I’d enjoyed living out my beachfront fantasy with

ubbed

the

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“E

several men in the rooms at Romeo Club. One pseudo-Paolo
heightened my interest when he massaged my ass—inside with his
ample prick and outside with strong hands—all while he had me
bent over a large piece of driftwood. My orgasm that night blew my
world apart, rocket’s red glare and all that.

Another glance at my watch fed my impatience. Fifteen minutes

late, and me cooling my heels with a boner the size of New Jersey.
Damn it!

I picked up a bottle of

Romeo Club Midnight Madness Aromatic

Massage Oil. Their own brand. Impressive. All natural, sweet almond
scented. Condom-safe. Hmm, good to know.

The white cloth covering an array of defined ridges and bumps

captured my attention, leading my imagination to the pleasurable
but perverse, firmly championing huge butt plugs and dildos. I do
love having my ass stretched, and when pseudo-Paolo had indicated
the use of anal toys during the mini-massage, seeking out the club’s
masseur had required

no further incentive.

I’d barely lifted the corner of the cloth when the door opened,

leaving me to wonder if I was right about what lay beneath. I jerked
my head up and salivated as a lean, muscular guy with legs that went
on for days strolled in and shut the door. My entire body took notice.
Damn, he was gorgeous! Not a blond hair out of place, and a strut
that exuded confidence. Bare-chested and six-pack solidly defined, he
filled out his track pants admirably. My knees turned to jelly, and we
hadn’t even been introduced.

He approached with an outstretched arm and a smile that lit his

eyes. “Hey, I’m Kyle. And you must be Brady.”

Kyle’s firm, vigorous handshake assured me my body would be

well tended in his hands.

“That I am.”
“Sorry I’m a few minutes late.” With a palm to his crotch, Kyle

adjusted his dick. “Some things can’t be hurried; you know what I
mean?”

Yesterday, I could’ve answered his question with a resounding yes.

But right now, every nerve-ending snapped and zinged at the thought
of this man touching me all over. Cogent thought was impossible.

“S-sure,” I said, struggling to focus on anything but the hands

that would soon be massaging my aching cock and balls.

“Aaron tells me you’re here for my specialty.”
“Y-yeah, the, er, erotic massage. Yes, I am.” I tried to swallow past

my sudden bout of nervousness.

“Did he tell you how

this massage differs from deep tissue, for

example?”

I nodded and smiled, wanting the questions to end and the

rubbing to begin. “He filled me in pretty well, and I’ve read the
brochure.”

“Good, I don’t want anything to surprise you. Now, all you need

to do is relax and enjoy.”

I liked the way he looked at me, as though I wasn’t just his next

appointment. “That works for me.”

With an outstretched arm, he indicated a door on the other side

of the room. “Great. You can go right through there and undress.
Leave your underwear on for now, and when you’re finished, come
on out. I’ll be waiting.”

He winked and my heart beat faster. I went into a small dressing

room, took off my suit, and hung it up. I studied myself in the mirror

as I removed my shirt. Not bad, but I really shouldn’t have skipped
the gym last week.

“Are you all right in there?”
Startled, I looked at my watch and realized five minutes had

passed.

Damn! Five less minutes with the hunk. “Yeah, be right out.”

I sucked in my nearly flat gut and took one last look in the full-

length mirror.

Not so bad for thirty.

I found Kyle leaning languidly against the massage table. I hoped

his smile meant he found my body pleasing, and not just that he’d
mastered Diplomacy 101.

He pushed off and patted the table. “Rest your elbows here and

we’ll get started.”

Just before I bent over the end of the table, Kyle dimmed the

lights. “I like to set the mood,” he said with another wink.

He slicked his hands with the Romeo-brand massage oil,

then came up behind me and leaned over my back. Starting at my
shoulders, he kneaded and rubbed, digging his thumbs dug into the
muscles with increased pressure. “You store your tension up here.”

“Yeah, my neck is pretty tight most of the time.” To give him

better access, I lowered my head.

For a couple of minutes, he concentrated on the stiffness, and

though it hurt like a son of a bitch, the stress melted away under the
heat of his capable hands.

He eased his way down my back, dribbling oil every so often, then

working it in with his palm. Slow circles, first around one shoulder
blade and then the other, down my spine, his fingers covering every
inch with a control that made me quiver.

He slipped both his hands over my cotton mesh–encased dick

and balls, jerked his hips against my backside and ground into me. I
didn’t think my dick could get harder, but it did with the friction and
I nearly lost my footing.

“Unless you say places or activities are off limits, I’ll assume your

permission.” He paused for a moment, giving me a chance to speak,
then squeezed my cock.

“No, I-I can’t think of a thing I’d say is off limits.”

Damn if that

didn’t sound hitched.

He chuckled on a whispered breath against my neck. “Good

then.”

Kyle hooked his oily hands into my waistband. “I can tell a lot

about a man who wears a thong underneath his suit.”

When he knelt behind me and slid my underwear down my

legs, all thoughts of asking what he could tell about me went out of
my head. He worked his warm, slippery hands back up to my ass,
never leaving my skin. I moaned as he traced my crevice, his fingers
squeezing my cheeks, digging in, as though he couldn’t get enough.

“Have you ever worn a cock and ball ring?” He dipped a hand

between my legs and rolled my balls with a light touch.

“Sure.” My dick bobbed and dripped its own response.
He stood and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Stand up and turn

around.”

My wobbly legs made that questionable, but I was determined to

give it my best shot.

I turned, leaned heavily on the table, and jutted my hips.
When Kyle held up a double, metal cock ring, my stomach

fluttered. “Ever used one like this?”

I licked my lips. “Yeah, it’s my favorite.”

“Mine too.”
He grabbed my junk, and my shameless cock bobbed and grew

harder. The more he tugged and tucked my stuff into the confining
rings, the more I wanted to fuck him senseless, or be fucked. At this
point, I’d take anything I could get.

When he finished, he rubbed a finger over my stretched ball sac.

“There, is that comfortable?”

I’ll give you three hours to stop doing that. “Yeah, no problem.” I

held my breath as he stroked my dick twice.

“Terrific. We’ll be doing things that’ll excite you, and I wouldn’t

want you to come too soon.”

The weight of the ring focused all my attention on my groin.

That’s what had made it a favorite, particularly when I wore it to the
Club. My cock throbbed steadily, and with Kyle’s continued attention
to my balls, I was afraid I’d explode.

He patted my hip. “Okay, you can get up on the table and lie on

your stomach.”

I laid on the cool, buttery, faux leather covering, the heavy table

creaking beneath me as I adjusted my body.

Kyle stood at my head and rubbed his re-oiled hands together.

He stretched his upper body over mine, his stiff, albeit clothed cock
sliding over the top of my head. He moaned deep in his throat, and I
suspected he was getting the relief I so desperately wanted.

He slid his hands down my arms in long, oily glides, stopping

at my wrists. Then he retraced his path, back up to my shoulders,
where he dug in, using the heels of his hands to deliver the requisite
pressure. He smelled of the almond-scented oil he so liberally spread
over my skin.

While he hummed to the sultry jazz music, his firm rubbing

drove away every care, save for the growing demands of my cock. His
touch invigorated yet relaxed me at the same time.

After he moved to my side, he worked his way down to my feet.

The trail of oil Kyle left over the length of my body cooled as the air
conditioning blew over me. I chuckled inwardly at how decadent it
felt to be coated in oil and massaged by a man as beautiful and skilled
as Kyle. Those hands should one day be bronzed, but not before I
enjoyed their magic—often.

Though ticklish as hell, the pressure Kyle exerted on my arch and

toes didn’t affect me that way at all. Systematically, he worked his way
over each toe, across the top of my foot, back to my ankle, and up my
other leg. My strength drained away with his slow, persistent pressure
on my calves and behind my knees.

My dick strained against the confines of the cock ring when he

worked my inner thighs. His hand grazed my balls when he massaged
where my leg met my ass.

I groaned, and he lingered for an indeterminate time before taking

each cheek in turn, rubbing, kneading, squeezing with unmerciful
but delicious pressure.

He climbed onto the table and I realized he’d stripped out of his

pants. His bare legs straddled my hips when he stretched out over
me. I inhaled deeply as his cock slid along the crevice of my ass. We
were skin-to-skin from groin to upper back. Long moments passed,
his breathing not as smooth as before, mine held as I waited to see
what he’d do next.

He flexed his hips, his cock sliding over my crease, while mine

oozed pre-cum onto the table beneath me.

“You don’t mind, do you, Brady?”
His voice was flirtatious, sexy in a deep, velvety way. I expelled a

“no” on a hard-won breath.

“I’m glad,” he said, then he slowly licked the shell of my ear.
My neck muscles got a workout while he gently rocked his hips.

I moaned and ached to feel that cock more intimately. I gripped the
table above my head to keep from flipping over and demanding more
attention be paid to my own aching dick.

Kyle grabbed my arms and tugged. “Relax. Arousal

is the point

of all this.”

I let him position my arms at my sides, but the sexual tension was

so palpable, relaxation was but a myth.

Kyle rocked for a few more moments, then gradually pulled away.

He dug his thumbs in at the crest of my buttocks, his fingers wrapped
firmly around my hips. Though it was painful as he circled over the
tense muscles, I wanted more—of that and of his heat. Between my
widespread legs, his hands brushed my balls as he went to work on
my upper thighs. When I pushed my ass up to encourage more, he
chuckled, then moved lower. I took it as a silent admonishment not
to be so eager.

With touches meant to tease, he skimmed his hands over one leg

and then the other. In his continuous, long strokes, he brushed over
my balls again and again, leaving a profound ache.

Holding me open with a firm hand, he toyed with my hole,

then dipped a slicked finger inside. “Yes,” I said silently, as the newly
stretched muscle slammed want into my cock. This wasn’t nearly all I
wanted, but certainly better than nothing.

Kyle bent low and blew warm air over the moisture he’d applied,

then moved his finger in and out.

“Ohh, fuck, yeah,” I groaned.
“I have something special for you, Brady, if you’re willing to try

it.”

“If it involves anything like what you’re doing right now—uh,

I’m in.”

“I think you’ll find it infinitely better.” He removed the finger,

poured more oil over my hole and easily slipped two fingers in. My
toes curled at the burn; God, how I loved that. I poked my ass up and
he fucked me even more vigorously than before.

“Have you ever had your prostate massaged?”
Even pseudo-Paolo hadn’t done that. “No. Never,” I said between

labored breaths.

Fuck, this was good.

He slowed his hand, though he didn’t stop completely “Seriously?

You’ve really missed out. Would you like to try it?” His voice was as
reassuring as a lover’s.

“I’m in

your hands. Sounds good.”

He slid his fingers out and I groaned.
“Great. Come up onto your knees and elbows for me, and I’ll

show you what you’ve been missing.”

Kyle backed up and helped me by snaking his arm just below my

waist. I spread my legs wide and braced myself on my elbows—my
favorite position of choice.

He massaged my buttocks, squeezed each cheek, then ran his

thumbs deep inside the crevice, just grazing over my sensitive hole.

Kyle parted my cheeks with one hand and dribbled warmed

massage oil between them. The gradual, luxurious heat of the oil,
and his fingers toying with my hole, worked me into an even more

libidinous state. Each touch was a bridge to the next, ramping up my
need for more.

“How’s that feel?”
My cock continued to drip. “I can’t even describe what’s going

through my mind.”

“Hold those thoughts.”
He slid a cool object across my oil-warmed ass. “This is a glass

anal probe,” he said as he dragged it down below the cheeks, teased
my balls and dick, then poised it at my entrance. “It’s a little bigger
than my finger.”

I relaxed against the insistent push as the glass bulb slid inside me.

It cleared the first muscle easily, but my greedy ass wanted something
bigger, longer, warmer.

He drew the probe over my sensitive gland, awakening me to

sensations like no others I’d ever felt. He knew how to apply just
the right amount of pressure in the correct spot. At his sure touch,
the pleasure grabbed me like tentacles. Tiny flickers of lightning
tickled the head of my dick as he brought me closer. The slow build
of tension—not enough to get off, but enough so I needed to give my
dick a few jerks to slightly dull the edge. I rocked against his hand
with the same rhythm, the probe massaging me from the inside.

Kyle gradually increased his speed and pressure. “Oh, fuck!” I

shouted as I reared my head up high.

Kyle dropped a hand to my dick, replacing mine with his. He

didn’t miss a beat while he continued to kiss my prostate with the
glass bulb. Nothing he did was meant to make me come, and as much
as I needed relief, I didn’t want this to end. The pleasure built, sending
heat through my limbs.

I chanted a rhythmic, “Uh, uh, uh,” to his strokes, wanting

nothing more than to just

feel.

“Are you game for something larger, Brady?”
Panting, I managed, “Oh, fuck, yes.”
He stroked for a moment or two longer before easing the probe

out with slow, teasing tugs. After applying more lube, he slid a bigger
bulb past my entrance. I welcomed the burn and focused on each
expansion of muscle. There was no mistaking when the probe hit
home. Kyle coaxed a slow, steady pleasure up my legs with glides of
the probe across my over-sensitized prostate. The tingle of orgasm
settled in my balls as Kyle trailed the glass bulb over my much-
underestimated gland.

The exquisite sensations delivered by Kyle’s deft hand stalled

my impatience. I tensed, fighting what I wanted, greedy for more
stimulation.

“You feel it building, don’t you?” he said on a whispered breath.
“Oh, Christ, yes.” The heat radiated through me; limbs on fire,

chest heaving to keep pace. My toes curled while my knees rocked
seemingly on their own. Thoughts splintered, and with closed eyes,
I gladly tumbled headlong into the intensity, waltzing around it, as
Kyle encouraged more than I thought I had to give with the ceaseless
massages from within. My brain short-circuited as endless tremors
rocked my body.

“Holy fuck!” I trembled as the last waves of pleasure coursed

through me. As they lessened, Kyle stilled his hand. He kissed me and
rubbed everywhere he could reach, further reducing me to a boneless
heap.

I inhaled several deep, calming breaths and looked down at my

still-hard dick. “Damn, that was fucking amazing, but why is there
no cum?”

Kyle chuckled as he toyed with the probe. “Some men come

during prostate massage without the semen. Powerful, isn’t it?”

“Forceful. Son of a bitch, that was fucking magic.”
“You rest for a minute.” He held the probe in place while pressing

down lightly on my back. “Put your cock and balls behind you.”

I laid on my belly, my head to the side, and closed my eyes.
He got off the table and feathered his hands over my body from

head to toe. His touch was continuous, though he never lingered in
one place long. When he reached my head, I opened my eyes and saw
his erect cock for the first time.

Hard as granite, decent girth . . . mmm, impressive length with a

slight curve to the left. Damn, I wanted him in every orifice I owned.
His musk surrounded me, made my mouth water, and my hands
itched to touch him.

Not knowing if reciprocal touch was welcome, I turned my head

to relieve the temptation.

While his magical hands worked my muscles into relaxation once

again, I calculated future massage sessions into my necessary monthly
expenditures. Five times a week fit the bill. They were pricey, but hell,
I’d forego food if I had this to look forward to every day.

With a mesmerizingly light touch, he skimmed over my sides,

down and between my legs, massaging territory he’d covered earlier
with surer hands. The man knew where the tension lived and where
the pleasure waited.

Kyle firmly grasped my upper thighs, his thumbs circling,

deepening the pressure as he went along. His fingers played my inner

thighs, drawing out the sensitivity there, along with my hopes for
something more.

“Roll over onto your back and spread your legs.”
I groaned as I forced my body to obey. Once settled, I lazily

bowed my knees and widened my legs as far apart as the table allowed.
Kyle stood at my side and covered my genitals with a warm hand. He
dribbled massage oil between his fingers and spread it over my groin.
In a most delicious hand-over-slippery-hand action, he stroked the
length of my dick. He palmed my bound balls with his next caress,
the skin so sensitive I groaned.

“Please, Kyle.” Though I’d come just minutes earlier, I’d not come

as far as my jewels were concerned, and they ached for their turn.

“I know what you want. Just relax. I guarantee you won’t be

disappointed.”

Between his fingers, he loosely stroked my cock, starting at the

base and drawing up over its length. Jerking me off was clearly not
his purpose, but the ever-so-slight friction kept the spark of heat and
desire alive.

Kyle placed his hands on either side of my genitals and used his

thumbs to massage my scrotum. My body warmed the oil while his
hands incited my passion.

The oil left a path of warmth and tingling nerve endings in its

wake as Kyle moved from my groin to my stomach and then my chest.
He worked my pecs, his erection so close I could smell the musk on
him. On an impulse, I reached over and slid a finger over his length,
my gaze never leaving his face. His smile and momentary eye closure
told me the touch was more than welcome.

I squeezed and jerked to the pulsating Caribbean rhythms of the

music as Kyle concentrated on my nipples, pinching and distending
them. I worked him, his deep inhalations saying more than words
could.

When he slid his hands to my neck, I used the oil on my chest to

slick my hand, then drew long pulls on his cock. He tormented my
nipples, pulling, squeezing, rolling them between slippery fingers.
The needle-like sensation shot to my toes and sped through my
groin.

I lifted a shoulder, my mouth aiming for his dick, but he pressed

me back to the table.

“Let me make this easier for you.” He leaned over me and bit my

nipple gently, then climbed onto the table. My mouth watered as he
straddled me, his beautiful prick but a lick away. I reached around
him, grabbed his ass cheeks, and pulled him closer.

I glanced up and reveled at the sight of his closed eyes and slack

mouth. “Oh, yeah, suck it down,” he said on a gasp, his hips rocking.

A smile sprang from the corners of his mouth when I concentrated

my efforts just under the head. His hips jerked as I scraped his cock
lightly between my teeth, over my tongue, and to the back of my
throat.

Kyle growled low in his chest and again grabbed my nipples,

squeezing  hard.  He  sped  up  the  rocking  of  his  hips,  giving  me  a
vigorous  face  fucking.  Kyle’s  cheeks  flushed,  and  I  recognized  the
lusty  haze  in  his  eyes.  He  pulled  away,  his  dick  falling  from  my
mouth.

“Raise your legs.”
Though heavy, I pulled them to my chest and wrapped my arms

behind my knees. Kyle rolled on a condom, lubed it up with his slick

hands, then teased my hole with the tip of his cock as if to say,

You

want this?

His eyes fluttered half-closed as he rocked his hips, nudging

against my wanting hole. He pressed hard once, twice. I relaxed, while
wanting nothing more than to pull him inside me. Kyle chuckled,
rubbed my legs, then slipped the head in. His dick stretched me to
the limit, and I needed all of him.

“Fuck me,” I growled.
His hands covered mine behind my knees, his grip firm. He must

have tasted blood as his top teeth dug into his bottom lip, and with
a furrowed brow, he plunged into me, again and again, jarring the
sturdy but groaning table beneath us.

A grunt meeting each thrust as his body slapped against mine.
I slid my hands from beneath Kyle’s, and with some fumbled

effort, I slipped the complicated cock ring off. My world narrowed
behind closed eyes. Kyle held my legs wide and fucked me brainless
while I pumped my cock.

Kyle withdrew, then plunged in deeper, past the relaxed muscles.

When he relaxed his grip, I wrapped my legs around his waist and
pulled him close. He braced himself on his arms, his pubes tickling
my ass. His exhalations were warm on my neck every time he thrust
in, his inhalations gasped as he drew himself out.

“Yeah, you’re nice and tight,” he said. My balls tightened; the

heat of my orgasm crawled down my spine. I met it with increased
speed, my need intensified by Kyle’s reddened face and bulging veins
in his neck.

He threw his head back, gritted his teeth, and slammed into me.

His body stiffened and his thrusts grew shorter. “Oh, fuuck.”

Seeing Kyle’s orgasm take him tipped me over the edge. I spilled

over my chest and hand, the aftershocks racking me for long moments.
I didn’t want to let go of the connection Kyle had built between us.

Kyle’s chest heaved as he used his arm to wipe the sweat from his

face and gave me a weak, almost embarrassed smile. He tipped his
head and raised his eyebrows as though to say,

Well, how was it? then

backed away. I was more than disappointed when he climbed off the
table.

He washed himself off, then returned with a warm washcloth to

clean me up as well.

“We’ll cool you down now,” he said, as he worked on my much

less sensitive scalp.

I replayed each touch and how they’d made me feel. Relaxed, sexy,

even confident that I was still attractive to another man—something
I hadn’t felt since being stood up in Spain.

Kyle’s magical fingers danced in my hair, but he said nothing

about the fucking and neither did I. I wasn’t sure of much after that
ride, but no sacrifice was too much and I’d forgo most anything for
a steady diet of Kyle’s massages. I made a respectable living, but this
new necessity would most certainly eliminate thoughts of that new
car I’d been eyeing.

Kyle stepped to my side, leaving every nerve in my head tingling.

He washed his hands in a nearby basin, then pulled on his track
pants.

When he turned to face me, his smile was so wide I noticed he

had the whitest teeth I’d ever seen. Seemingly without thinking, he
patted my shoulder, getting massage oil on his hands again.

“There’s a shower just beyond where you left your clothes.” With

a wink, he said, “It’s been nice getting to know you, and I hope you’ll
come back again real soon.”

My choices of words were limited, unless I wanted to appear

completely desperate, or worse, foolish. He’d winked, still flirtatious
even after he’d fucked my brains out.

Words formed in my head, yet I was tongue-tied. I sat up and

dangled my legs over the edge of the table.

“Stay as long as you want, but when you go, leave the door open.”

He grabbed a towel and wiped his oily hand on it.

I nodded, intending to say, “Yeah, sure, I will,” but I couldn’t get

the words past my lips.

He opened the door, then lingered in the doorway for a moment

as our eyes met.

“A-are you free next week, same time?” The words tumbled out,

draining away what little strength I had left.

Kyle’s smile forced one from me. “Yeah, man, I think so. You

might want to check with Aaron on your way out though.”

“Great. I’ll do that. See you then.”
With a mock salute, Kyle left the room.
I looked around and spotted the anal probe on the small table.

My ass clenched at the memory of how awesome that semen-free
orgasm had felt.

I jumped off the table with a chuckle and headed for the shower.

Yeah, I’d be back, again and again. Who the fuck needs cable
anyway?

lso

Rita

ddams

Sapphire Club Series

Serenity’s Dream

Lord Decadent’s Obsession

Chocolate, Tea, and the Duchess

The Rogue’s Salvation

Love Immortal

Splendid Captivity

Freedom in His Arms Collection

Free Me

In His Arms

A Minute After Midnight

An Evening at the Starlight

Romeo Club Collection

#1: Surprises

#2: Rubbed the Right Way

Written as Tina Ordone
Her Timeless Obsession

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Brita Addams was born in Upstate New York in a small farm town,
though she’s lived in the sultry south for many years. She shares her
home with her husband and real life hero, their youngest daughter, a
fat cat named Stormee, and Fiona, a puppy who doubles often as her
muse.

Brita loves visitors at her internet home – www.britaaddams.com.
She can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.