Forever Him By Jeanne St. James- He Is Her Muse And Obsession #BDSM #RomanceNovel

This is not just a love story, it’s an obsession…

Blurb:

I can’t keep my eyes off the tall, dark, and confident man who stops in the coffee shop every morning. I want this stranger more than I’ve ever wanted anyone before, even though I only know his first name. As an author, my imagination is my ultimate writing tool, men like Kane my muse. And the minute he leaves, I’m overcome with fantasies I can’t control and my fingers fly across the keyboard… until one day, I almost snap. My embarrassing outburst has me running out the door when he catches me and takes me to his home.

Though it’s risky, I can’t resist him. And with one kiss, he now owns me. This man will capture my sanity and trap it forever. He’ll steal me one piece at a time until he possesses me completely. He’ll ruin me for any other man. But I don’t want anyone else, for it’ll always be forever him.

Note: All books in the Obsessed series are standalone novellas. It is intended for audiences over 18 years of age since it includes explicit sexual situations, including BDSM.


Excerpt:

He smells good. Dark spices, tangy. Right then, I know I need to taste him. Does he taste like he smells? Like an exotic dish that tantalizes my senses?

I inhale him deep into my lungs and say, “I want to take you into my mouth.”

Without a word, he straightens and steps back from me. If I thought his eyes appeared dark before, they’re even darker now. Dangerous and stormy.

He’s no longer looking like a satisfied kitten who drank a dish of milk. He’s back to that lion stalking his prey as he watches me carefully, cautiously.

Most men I know would have had their pants down and their cocks out before the offer was even finished. Not this man. He stands stock still and studies me, making me want to squirm.

Then suddenly one corner of his mouth lifts, and he offers me his hand. “We’ll skip the coffee.”

I ignore his hand and push myself off the stool and drop to my knees in front of him. Right on the kitchen floor. I reach for his belt buckle, and his hands fall to his sides as his stance widens. I glance up his body and see him watching me quietly. His expression unreadable.

I will see what I can do to change that. My fingers are trembling so I fumble a bit until I can unhook the buckle and unfasten his slacks. I slowly slide his zipper down and stare at the juncture of his open pants with anticipation. It’s like Christmas morning.

I’m ready to unwrap my gift.

Since his stance is wide and his thighs are muscular and thick, his pants fall only past his hips. His boxer briefs are blue like his eyes and, from what I can see, he certainly is going to be giving me a very, very nice gift.

I swallow hard and try to control my breathing as I run my fingers down the cotton covering his bulge. I want to see him. I want to hold him, but I’m enjoying the anticipation of the unknown.

He doesn’t move or make a sound as I cup him within my palm and feel the weight and heat of his balls tucked within his briefs. I glance up again. Still no reaction. I slide my fingers in and along the elastic waistband and slowly reveal what I’ve been waiting for.

My mouth waters at the sight of precum beading at the crown of his cock. I dart my tongue out to capture it. The salty goodness tastes like heaven, and my eyelids flutter shut. My pussy is wet and clenching, desperate to have his hard length, his thick girth within me.

He tucks a finger under my chin and lifts my face to him. “Look at me while you take me into your mouth.”

I do. My gaze never wavers as I wrap my lips around the head. The only sign on his face is a slight movement, a very tiny twitch near his right eye. Not the reaction I’m looking for. But I’ve only just begun.

I wrap my fingers around the root of his cock and squeeze. I can’t continue to look at him. I need to concentrate on making him break.

Deeper and deeper, I take as much of him as possible. My lips stretching, my tongue sliding, my mouth sucking. My eyes flick upward when I hear a noise. I didn’t imagine it, but he still isn’t showing me any reaction. He’s keeping himself together, his control solid.

Now more determined, I run my tongue up the thick vein, capture the head in my mouth, suck harder, before lightly scraping my teeth over the most sensitive area.

My own actions make me ache for him, wet for him. Instead of stretching my lips, I want him to stretch me inside, fill me completely.

I take another pass from the root to the tip and his hips jerk. No, not a jerk, only a slight twitch. The man seems to be made of steel. Immune to the wet heat of my mouth, the softness of my tongue.

Another twitch, another sound. He’s letting his façade slip. His hands dig into my hair, pulling it tight, making my scalp scream. I lift my gaze enough to see his eyes, now hooded, his lips slightly parted. His fingers clench and unclench in my hair following the same rhythm of my movement.

I slide my mouth up and down faster, and I finally hear his breathing become ragged, shallow. I want to smile my triumph, but I can’t since he remains hard and long and thick within my mouth.

His thrusts start small, shallow, as he pulls my head towards him. I fight my panic as he bumps the back of my throat over and over. I swallow and breathe through my nose, my eyes water. I relax my throat, and I still can’t take all of him. It’s uncomfortable, but I want to see him break. I want to be the one to bring a look of unadulterated pleasure to his face. I want to hear him cry out my name.

As a tear rolls from the corner of my eye, I peek up at him again. His eyes squeeze shut, his jaw tightens, his lips press together. When a low moan escapes him, his eyes pop open, and he catches me watching him. His eyes darken as he holds my gaze, his chest heaves as my name escapes his lips.

And as his body tenses against me, he’s about to fall apart. About to come undone.

“Lila… Lila… Lila,” he chants on each breath.

A raw sound escapes him, and then he grits his teeth and releases his hot, salty cum at the back of my throat. He still has a death grip on my head, holding me tightly as his cock pulsates on my tongue. And I accept all of him.

Because he’s mine.

He just doesn’t realize it yet.

--

Buy links-

Available on Amazon for only 99¢ or FREE on Kindle Unlimted for a limited time!

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JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.

She has a few new releases coming up in 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup


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Double Dare by Jeanne St. James-She Gives Up Men And Gets Two To Love- #MMF #Erotic #BDSM #Romance

What could be better than waking up next to a hot guy? Waking up sandwiched between two of them. 

Blurb:

Quinn Preston, a financial analyst, is not happy when her friends dare her to pick up a handsome stranger at a wedding reception. What better reason to give up men when her previous long-term relationship had not only been lackluster in the bedroom but he had cheated?

Logan Reed, a successful business owner, can’t believe that he’s attracted to the woman in the ugly, Pepto-Bismol pink bridesmaid dress. And to boot, she’s more than tipsy. After turning down her invitation for a one-night stand, he finds her in the parking lot too impaired to drive. He rescues her and takes her home. His home.

The next morning Quinn’s conservative life turns on its ear when Logan introduces her to pleasures she never even considered before. And to make things more complicated, Logan already has a lover.
Tyson White, ex-pro football player, is completely in love with Logan. He has mixed emotions when Logan brings home Quinn. But the dares keep coming...

--

Excerpt:

When Logan glanced up again, he saw a pink vision stalking toward him, and he sat up straighter. Shit, the cause of his earlier hard-on was coming his way.

She looked determined, and she still had a grip around her glass like it was a lifeline.

She stopped directly in front of him and put one hand on her hip.

“Are you Logan Reed?”

Oh shit. “Yes?”

“You don't know for sure?”

“Oh, I'm sure.”

“Are you fucking anybody right now?”

“Right this minute?”

He glanced around to see if anyone else was hearing this surreal conversation. Luckily no one was paying attention.

“No. Do you have anyone who is going to get mad if I ask you to dance?”

“Uh. No.” Well, hell, that was a unique way of asking someone to dance.

She placed her drink on the table, and he asked, “Is that still your second one?”

“No, third.”

“I was afraid of that.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled, but he was too heavy for her to lift, so he unfolded himself from the chair to accommodate her.

“Are you asking me to dance?”

“You have a problem with that?”

“Not at all.”

He interlaced his fingers with hers and led her to a corner of the dance floor. Luckily for him, the DJ had turned the lights down and was playing a series of slow tunes. Ones he could dance to. There was no way he was doing the chicken dance or line dancing. He had his limits.

As the slow, wailing tune blared through the large speakers, Logan slid his palms around her waist, his splayed fingers coming to rest at the small of her back. The fabric of her dress felt terrible, and he didn't know why women wore shit like that and suffered. The dress certainly wasn't flattering.

But it wasn't the outer package that mattered to Logan; it was the prize he found inside when it was unwrapped.

He stepped in a little closer and pulled her hips against his. He swore he heard a little gasp. He smiled into her overstyled, dark blonde hair and nuzzled it. Underneath all the hairspray, he caught a scent of wildflowers. It smelled nice.

“What's your name?” he murmured into her hair.

“What?” She turned her head a bit, and she ended up nuzzling his neck. Her lips, the shape of which reminded him of an archer's bow, were warm and soft, and he could detect the fruity scent of the slammers on her breath.

She was average height for a woman, which made her a bit shorter than him, so he had to lean down a bit to place his lips against her ear.

“What's your name?”

He felt the shiver of her body against him, so he traced the delicate shell of her ear with the tip of his tongue. The touch was light enough, but she unmistakably felt it. In response, she arched her back slightly, pressing her hips harder into his.

“Quinn,” she finally answered him, her voice breathless.

“Quinn,” he repeated while moving one hand up her back to the bare skin rising out of her dress. He drew the pad of his thumb along the smooth expanse of flesh, along her exposed spine, moving up to her neck to cradle it in his palm. His thumb continued to stroke her skin along the vein in her neck.

He pulled away a little and looked down into her face. Her eyes were heavy, and her lips were parted. Her breaths were short and quick.

He struggled to keep from thrusting against her. If she looked this good in that god-awful dress, he wondered what she looked like in normal clothes. Or no clothes at all.

Or just a pair of handcuffs.

His balls tightened, and he released a long breath out of his nose to steady his pulse.

“Quinn, do you like sex?” He placed his cheek against hers, and they swayed to the music, their hips, their thighs brushing against each other.

Her eyelids fluttered a bit before she answered, “Sometimes.”

“Why only sometimes?” he whispered against her ear.

She shrugged slightly, and one of her off-the-shoulder sleeves slid down a bit, exposing more creamy flesh.

Logan brushed his lips along her collarbone. It was delicate and covered with smooth skin. When he got to her shoulder, he worked his way back, and in the hollow of her neck, he placed a kiss.

There was a groan. He didn't know whom it came from. Her? Him? He didn't care. His hand at the small of her back slipped lower, to just where the rise of her ass was. The fabric of the dress kept him from feeling details, but his imagination took over.

One song transitioned into another, and they weren't even aware of the other couples dancing nearby.

His hips kept a steady side-to-side rhythm, while his hand on her back kept her close and in perfect time with him.

He was hard. There was no doubt she could feel it. Even with the yards of fabric around her midsection, her belly brushed against his length, teasing his cock.

“What kind of sex do you like?” His voice sounded low and gruff to his own ears.

“The kind when I get to come.”

Logan chuckled against her temple and slipped the hand he had around her neck to her shoulder. His fingers brushed her skin lightly. He couldn't help but notice goose bumps suddenly appearing everywhere he touched her. Which meant her nipples were probably hard and aching for his fingers and mouth.

Her dress had slipped down a bit, and the neckline rode low on her chest. The fabric rested just on the crest of her breasts; he could see she wasn't wearing a bra. In fact, he thought he could see the crescent edge of one nipple, even in the dim light.

He wanted to dip his tongue between her breasts.

“Quinn?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you ask me to dance?”

“Because my friends…” Her soft voice faded off.

“Your friends?” He prodded.

“My friends dared me to. They think I am such a loser when it comes to men.”

“Ah.”

“I always pick Mr. Wrong.”

“Am I supposed to be Mr. Right?” He brushed the backs of his knuckles over the rise of her breasts.

“No. Just Mr. Right Now.”

She was direct. He wondered if it was just the alcohol talking. “So you just want to use me.”

“Basically.”

Her boldness wavered, disappointing him a bit.

He raised his eyebrows. “Huh. And you don't think I'd care?” He leaned back a bit and looked down at her, her skin a canvas for the colorful light bouncing off the mirrored disco ball above the dance floor.

She wouldn't meet his gaze. “Do you?”

--

Buy Links:

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/double-dare.html

Amazon: (Kindle) https://www.amazon.com/Double-Dare-Jeanne-St-James-ebook/dp/B003CT387S/ref=asap_bc?ie=UTF8

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aRe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-doubledare-418163-146.html

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Please Note: Daring Proposal, book 2 of the series will be released 1/3/17. All can be read as stand-alones

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Author Bio:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.

She has a few new releases coming up in 2016 and 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: https://www.MyAuthorBiz.com/ENewsletter.php?acct=JJ4625816541890

Author Links:

Website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
Blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jeannestjames
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jeannestjames/
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The Ever After by Jeanne St. James- He Is Ready To Admit His Love For Gil But Will Gil Take Him Back? #MM #Erotic #Romance #Football

Meet Rip and Gil…

Blurb:

Rip Cord, the infamous Bad Boy of the NFL, ends up on Gil Davis’ front porch drunk as a skunk. Not only has he been fired by his franchise, but also his sports agent. His last brawl on the football field during a prime time game was the final straw.

Accounting geek Gil Davis hasn’t seen his on-again, off-again lover since the summer when the professional football player whisked him away for a kinky sex-filled getaway weekend. But immediately after, Rip returned to the NFL and was on the road leaving no time for Gil.
 Now Rip wants to come back into Gil’s life one more time, this time to not only make a future with him, but to finally admit who he really is deep down inside. After hiding his sexual preference since he was a teen, Rip realizes he’s made too many bad choices along the way. It’s time to make the right choice with Gil.


But is Gil ready to forgive Rip for keeping him at a distance? And more importantly, after two false starts, can they finally live happily ever after?

--

Excerpt:

“Is the coffee helping?”

On the surface her question sounded caring, but the pointed gaze and the tightly crossed arms told him otherwise.

“Yeah. I’m drunk and awake now.”

“Good. So…why are you here?” She pursed her lips stubbornly. She wasn’t leaving without some answers. The sooner he answered, the sooner she would skedaddle.

He blew across the hot liquid before taking another sip. “For Gil.”

“For Gil, or for you?” Her gaze was unwavering as she waited for his answer. Her left index finger was beating a pattern into her right bicep. Tap, tap, tap. Tick tock. Tick tock. Ding. Time’s up.

“I just told you.”

“Well, I think you’re here for yourself because you’re a selfish shit. You need to stop playing with his emotions. You hear me?”

Rip winced. Holy hellion. “I’m not.”

“Oh, you are. You need to man up and either be with Gil or leave him the hell alone. He’s not your boy toy. You can’t just take him out to play when you want to.”

Is that what she thought he was doing? Shit. Did Gil see it like that? “I don’t mean to—”

“Bullshit. I wish I’d never talked him into going to his class reunion. He didn’t want to go, you know. I made him.”

Rip grimaced. “I know.”

“He had a crush on you, and you opened the door to more. Between that night and the weekend at the cabin—”

“I never meant—”

“Listen Mister I’m-a-famous-wide-receiver-for-the-NFL, you knew exactly what you were doing.”

“For your information, I feel the same way about him as he does me.”

“Right.” Katie laughed bitterly. “You do know Gil loves you, right?”

Rip glanced at her, eyes wide. “He… does?”

Sure. Gil has feelings for him. Hell, he has feelings for Gil. But love?

“Of course he does, you shit. How could you not notice? Oh, that’s right, you’re a thick-headed football player that only cares about himself.”

“I care about Gil.”

“Then why don’t you act like it?”

Rip turned away from her and put an arm over his face. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

He was sick to his stomach. Not only from the over-indulging but from what Katie said.

He’d never cared for anyone before. Never. His mom had died when he was young, and his pop had been a complete asshole. And, fuck, he did not want to end up like him. Unfortunately, he seemed to be headed down that same path.

First as being deemed The Bad Boy of the NFL—not without good reason—and now with Gil. He never meant to hurt Gil. He liked Gil. He always had. Even in high school. Yeah, so they hadn’t been actual “friends” because they ran in different circles. Gil with the geek squad and Rip with the jocks. But that was normal high school shit. Right?

He had never picked on Gil in high school like the other students had. No, it wasn’t just being picked on. It was downright bullying. The night of their tenth-year class reunion, Gil had asked Rip why he hadn’t ever come to his rescue. Rip’s lame answer was that he’d had a reputation to uphold. He was the captain of the varsity team. He was a jock. It was a bullshit excuse and he had apologized, of course. But it came too late for high school. However, here he was again…trying to live up to his reputation of being a badass pro football player.

And look where that got him…

Sobering up in his gay lover’s house. The lover whom he’d been ignoring because Rip was too much of a damn coward to come out of the closet and be his true self.

That’s because he always had to hide who he really was. Always.

All he’d known most of his life was how to be a good football player.

And now he didn’t even have that.

He emptied the mug and handed it back to Katie. “Thanks…and sorry.”

Katie pushed to her feet. “You’re apologizing to the wrong person.”

She beat feet out of the bedroom and slammed the door shut behind her.

Fuck.

The Bad Boy of NFL was no longer.

Now he was just a fuck up.

--

Buy Links:

Loose Id: http://www.loose-id.com/rip-cord-ever-after.html

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Add to GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32993072-rip-cord

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Author Bio:

JEANNE ST. JAMES is an erotic romance author who loves an Alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing since it gave her an escape from teenage angst! Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages.

She has a few new releases coming up in 2016 and 2017. So keep an eye on her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: https://www.MyAuthorBiz.com/ENewsletter.php?acct=JJ4625816541890

Author Links:

Website: http://www.jeannestjames.com
Blog: http://jeannestjames.blogspot.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/jeannestjamesAuthor
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jeannestjames/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JeanneStJames
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/jeannestjames
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