Whipped Cream & Handcuffs #2
Marc has a secret admirer…or maybe not so secret.
The black and white photographs were the first clue. The silk scarf was the second. Marc didn’t need any other hints.
The sensual, secretive gifts were all Blush Taylor. Blush-the girl who had driven him crazy since high school.
The question is…why is she taunting him with these sexy gifts? And why now?
includes a bonus story, One Night With You
There was little that was worse than working in an office full of females on your birthday. Of course, there was also little that was better. They were so damn funny. So damn cute.
Marc couldn’t make up his mind whether to be outraged with half their comments or just outright amused. He accepted the package from Tessa and escaped to his office with relief.
They had all shown up to work wearing black.
There were dinosaurs all over the front of the medical arts building’s lawn—thirty- five damned dinosaurs. He couldn’t stop scowling over that one.
Thirty-five did not make him a damned dinosaur.
He still had to go to lunch with those insane ladies.
Had to listen to more of their teasing jokes, more of their subtle pokes at his persistent single status, more bad jokes at his age…but then again, they always bought very good presents.
Heaven help him. A low, husky laugh drifted to him and he had to fight the urge to whimper as he slit the box open. Damn it. Of course, Valery Taylor was going to show up to torment him on his birthday. The day just wouldn’t be complete without Blush around to give him grief.
The knock at the door distracted him for just a second.
But only a second.
He wasn’t even able to respond.
What in the hell…
His mouth was dry.
His cock was throbbing.
And his eyes were locked on the most erotic pictures he had ever seen in his life. Black and white pictures of a woman, but only parts of her, one breast, the puckered nipple framed by the ends of a scarf. The color of the scarf had been added back in, in every single picture. The dip of her waist, and the roundness of her hip. The taut, curvy muscle of her calf.
Something silky brushed his hand and he stared as the scarf from the picture fluttered out of the box to puddle in his lap.
“So what’s it like to be almost old, Doc?”
He lifted his eyes and stared into Blush’s merry brown eyes.
“You’re thirty-five now…few more years, you’ll be forty. We used to think that was ancient,” she teased him lightly, propping her shoulder against the door. “How does it feel?”
He clutched the scarf in his hand, crushing it. A scent, soft, seductive…familiar …drifted up to tease him and his eyes widened, his nostrils flaring as he dragged more of it into his lungs, all the while staring at Blush.
Her scent was on that scarf.
He had to force a slight smile, and he knew that his voice sounded like rusty nails as he responded, “Can’t say just yet, Blush.” Then he couldn’t resist as he added, “Why don’t you come and give me a spin?”
Her eyes widened. The tip of a pink tongue darted out to wet her lips—if he didn’t know better, he’d say she was speechless.
Her eyes fell to the pile on his desk and she asked softly, “Birthday present?”
He grinned wickedly, “I’d say. Wanna take a look?”
She blushed. Her trademark.
And he knew.
“I’ve got stuff to do. I’ll have to take a rain check.”