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  “But none of that has to happen. All you have to do is sign this custody agreement, and you can continue on with your brilliant future.” She pulled the document from her tote bag and pushed it across the table to him.

  He quickly scanned it. “Full custody.”

  “Full legal and physical custody. You can see them at predetermined times, but no more than two days a month.”

  “Five.”

  Why did he bother? Maybe he didn’t want to make things too easy for her.

  “Two. This is not negotiable. You don’t want them anyway, Andrew. To you, they’re just a bargaining chip. You’re getting what you really want. Let’s put an end to this farce.”

  Watching him closely, she could see the exact moment he decided to concede. But it went against the grain for him to end up on the losing end of things. Especially to her.

  “I’d had my fill of you anyway,” he said. “I hope Dustin doesn’t mind getting spoiled goods. Does he know how many men have touched you? How many men have seen every inch of your body? You’ll always be my little slave doll. If I wanted, I could get you back right this second. I could make you pull your tits out, get up on this table, strip naked and touch yourself. I could make you get into the back seat of the limo, spread your legs, and charge tickets for every guy in Northampton to get their turn with you. I could…”

  Chloe plunked a pen on top of the custody agreement. Still spewing his nastiness, he signed. She placed the document back in her tote bag, took the pen, signed the confidentiality agreement, and pushed it toward him.

  “…make you serve that couple over there wearing nothing but an apron, I could bend you over this table and fuck you silly, I could…”

  “Goodbye, Andrew. You may not have noticed, but there’s a clause stipulating that any breach of the custody agreement voids the other one. So watch your step. ” She got to her feet. At the cash register, she saw the young waitress listening, openmouthed. “You know, there’s one more thing I’m going to pray for every night.”

  “What?”

  “That voters see you for what you really are, since I can’t tell them myself.”

  She shouldered her tote bag, and walked toward the door. As she passed the waitress, she stopped for a moment. “Take my advice, and stay very far away from that man.”

  The waitress snapped her jaw shut and nodded. Chloe stepped into the bright sunshine and headed for the cab waiting around the corner for her.

  Next stop—pick up her girls.

  Dustin kissed the inside of Chloe’s right ankle. It was the kind of detailed intimate caress with which he’d been tormenting her for the last two hours. He mouthed the little knob of her anklebone, pinning her thighs to the floor so she couldn’t wriggle away from the shimmering sensation. Not that she wanted to. She’d already come twice, and he still hadn’t even put his mouth on her sex, still hadn’t given in to her pleas to fill the empty space inside her. He dipped his thumb into her wetness then flicked it over her burning clitoris. She bucked under his touch. Throwing her head back, she saw the wooden dome above her slowly spin in a blissed-out blur. They were on the floor of the widow’s walk, nested on a pile of quilts. Dustin’s grandmother had no doubt never intended her work to be used for this purpose. Then again, maybe she had. Chloe couldn’t imagine a better one.

  She squirmed as Dustin’s tongue flickered over the back of her knee, across the inside of her thigh. The soft fabric of the quilt added to the feeling of being cocooned in pleasure. The first real warm breeze of summer drifted through the doors that led onto the balcony. It seemed to coo in her ear. Her own breath joined it in a rising rhythm that matched the swirling pace of Dustin’s tongue.

  “Jesus, Dustin. I need you inside me. Please.” Her voice was a croak of desire. His cock was so far away—if it couldn’t be inside her, she wanted it in her hand, or her mouth, somewhere. Instead, it stayed out of reach, bobbing against her shin as he crouched over her. Well, if all she had was her shin, so be it. She nudged her knee against that burning velvet pole, and had the satisfaction of hearing him groan.

  “You want me?” He nuzzled the words into her sex.

  “Yes!”

  “How much?”

  She showed him how much with a thwack on his head. The vibrations of his laughter sent little wavelets of sensation through her body.

  “You’re a mean man.”

  “Take that back.” He nipped at her swollen lips.

  “No.” Her voice was shaky with desire.

  “What did you call me?”

  “Mean. No, worse. Cruel!”

  “Cruel, is it?”

  Chloe felt herself being flipped over onto her stomach. She cried out at the cushiony teasing of the worn fabric against her stiffened nipples. Then a strong body was on top of her, a determined hand under her sex. Fingers probed until they found her burning clitoris, then rubbed. At first she tried to twist away from the relentless arousal, but his hips kept her firmly in place. He rubbed and pinched her as she bucked her hips hard against his hand, and beyond it, the quilt.

  Then her ass was lifted slightly into the air, and finally the massive cock she’d been longing for sank into her. She ground her hips back into his, while his hand kept its teasing grip on her sex. Oh God, it was too much, too much. Moisture dripped down her thighs. The rhythms were different, his body thrusting against hers, his hand circling, and it was driving her crazy. She didn’t know which felt better, she wanted both, she wanted it to go on and on, she wanted to climb the peak…no, she wanted to draw it out…no, she wanted that finger to rub harder. But first she wanted his cock deeper, and now his other hand was under her breasts, gathering her nipples together in one work-roughened hand, and she couldn’t think anymore. She could only fly as the bliss exploded from every direction and her body spasmed around his, her inner muscles pulling at him until he too jerked and shouted and came, a jet roaring inside her.

  Long moments passed, the only sound their panting as it gradually slowed. It was the breeze that spoke first. It whispered of seagulls darting over incoming fishing boats, kelp washed up on the beach, the first wild roses setting their blooms. It roused Chloe, and she shifted under Dustin’s weight. Immediately, he rolled off her.

  “Are you okay, love?” he said anxiously.

  “For a dead woman, just fine.”

  “At least you died happy, I hope.”

  “Very happy.” She sighed. “I’m almost embarrassed to say how happy.”

  “Are you excited? Nervous? Chilly?” He pulled one of the quilts from under her, and draped it over her. She sat up, cross-legged, and wrapped it around her. This was one of the things she liked best about being with Dustin. After sex, he would lie, or recline on one elbow, while she sat and gabbed. Since she often spent the time telling him what an amazing lover he was, he didn’t seem to mind. But he also didn’t seem to mind when she talked about whatever else happened to be running through her head. Bits and pieces of her life with Andrew had come out. Someday he would know it all. And he talked too. She loved hearing him talk, even if it was just about Gary’s latest misadventure.

  “All three, I guess. I mean, I know the girls are going to love summer on Bellhaven. At least I think they will. I hope they don’t think it’s boring here. Compared to mainland life, it’s a little slow.”

  “Yeah, we move at a second-grade pace out here, and what are they, third-grade?”

  She laughed. “Third and fourth. And their school is so sophisticated. Their friends are all going to camp or Europe this summer.”

  “What’s Europe compared to Hook Point at low tide? You don’t find starfish like that just anywhere.”

  “Good point. I know they’ll love it here. Did I tell you about their rooms?”

  She had, but he let her tell him again. All spring, she and the girls had gone back and forth from their new apartment on the mainland to Bellhaven, spending Andrew’s alimony money freely to renovate the cottage. Now summer was here, a long, luxurio
us summer with Dustin. The girls were enjoying one last slumber party with their friends, and then they’d all be together on Bellhaven.

  The distant whistle of the ferryboat made her jump to her feet. “That’s it! That’s them! Help me, hurry.” She flew around the room collecting her clothes. But when she tried to put her shirt on, it seemed to be inside out and buttoned wrong. She couldn’t even tell the top from the bottom. Placing firm hands on her shoulders, Dustin made her stand still.

  “I’ll take care of it. Lift your arms.”

  For one horrified second, she heard the echo of Andrew’s voice. “Lift your arms, doll.” She froze. In Dustin’s midnight-dark eyes, she saw puzzlement, followed by realization. He took a step back, and dropped the shirt as if it were on fire.

  “Sorry. Sorry.”

  The worry on Dustin’s beautiful face brought her back to her senses. “No. I’m sorry.” She stepped forward, and lifted her arms. Gently, respectfully, he pulled the sleeves of her shirt onto one arm, then the other, then buttoned the front.

  “Thank you,” she said, and leaned in to give him a tender kiss.

  Outside, Dustin emptied his truck in order to load it up with all the stuff two girls would need for the summer. With an embarrassed look, he tossed a stray bottle of rum into the trash. He’d given up rum the same day he’d told Gary to dry out or get a new job. Sober, Gary seemed to spend a lot of time apologizing.

  Dustin and Chloe drove the truck to the wharf and ran down to wait with the others. The ferryboat was just rounding the tip of Hope Island. Halley and Merry were on that boat. Chloe knew what they were seeing right now. The two arms of Bellhaven spread open to welcome all visitors. The high cliffs on one end, the blanket of pine trees, the white curls of waves foaming against gray rock. The homey little wharf nestled in the middle. She could imagine the excitement coursing through them at the thought of everything to be discovered during a summer on Bellhaven, all the adventures to be had. And she thought of all the dangers they didn’t know about, that they didn’t have to know about yet. When the time came, she would prepare them. Warn them, arm them with knowledge. But for now, let their innocence shine.

  When she was their age, she’d known absolutely, one hundred percent, that Bellhaven was a magical place where fairies watched over her. Now, at this moment, with this man beside her and her beautiful daughters sailing toward her, she knew absolutely, one hundred percent, that she’d been right.

  About the Author

  To learn more about Juniper Bell, please visit www.juniperbell.com. Or, you can send an email to Juniper at [email protected].

  Look for these titles by Juniper Bell

  Coming Soon:

  Training the Receptionist

  With her life on the line, can she protect her heart?

  Protecting Phoebe

  © 2009 Shelli Stevens

  A Chances Are Story

  Phoebe’s work at Second Chances, a women’s shelter, has gone a long way toward her own healing after surviving an abusive relationship in college. She’s moved on in every sense—except when it comes to dating.

  Everything changes when Craig visits the shelter. The hot, young cop sets her pulse racing in a way that makes her consider making a move—and moving him into her bed for a casual fling. The first step: ask him out. Subtly, of course.

  Craig has been attracted to Phoebe for months, so he’s more than happy for the chance to get to know her better, in bed and out. His interest goes way beyond casual, but convincing her to think long term is going to take some time.

  When it becomes clear her violent ex has come out of the woodwork, though, time is the one thing they don’t have…

  Warning: This book contains hot lovin’ between an older woman and younger man, the threat of a violent ex, and a woman learning to trust a cop whose desire to serve and protect goes way beyond the badge!

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Protecting Phoebe:

  Damn but if he didn’t want to just cup her face and run his thumbs over the cheeks, before taking her lips in a hard kiss.

  What would she taste like? What kinds of sweet sounds would she make when he sank his tongue deep into her mouth?

  Phoebe shifted next to him, as if sensing his sensual thoughts. Her thigh scratched against his.

  A hint of desire flashed in her eyes, pushing his primitive side further to the surface.

  Wanting to test her limits, he gave a slight smile, still holding her gaze, and let his right hand rest on her knee.

  A small, visible tremble ran through her and he heard the shift in her breathing.

  Never mind if the band sucked, the idea of getting her on the dance floor and pressing those sweet female curves against his body held entirely too much appeal.

  “Dance with me?” His words were soft, and though he’d meant it to be a question, it sounded far more like a command.

  He half expected her to turn him down, instead she tilted her head and gave a slight nod.

  “Why not?”

  Setting his beer on the table, he slid out of the booth and held out his hand to her.

  She took it and he curled his fingers around hers, tugging her to her feet and onto the dance floor.

  Finding a space in the crowd of dancers, Craig slipped his hand low on her hip and pulled her close.

  God, she was so completely in over her head. Phoebe swallowed hard, but didn’t protest when he pulled her body snug against his.

  Their bodies ground together, moving to the snapping bass of the funk song. She felt the thick curl of his cock—which had to be semi-erect—just above her pelvis.

  He moved his hand behind her hip, almost cupping her ass cheek, his other hand on her upper back, pressing her close.

  She bit back a groan as moisture gathered heavily between her legs, her nipples tightening under her shirt.

  The way they danced wasn’t particularly dirty, almost every couple on the floor danced in a similar fashion. But the way he moved against her had to be a promise of what he’d be like in bed.

  And she wanted him there. All too much. This was crazy. She closed her eyes when he nuzzled her ear. Absolute insanity.

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to him, grinding her hips against his.

  His breathing grew heavier and his cock stirred against her, grew harder.

  He caught her chin with firm fingers, lifting her head. He gave her no warning before his mouth slanted softly across hers.

  Heat exploded in her belly at the first light caress. The second pass of his mouth over hers came firmer, his tongue sliding easily between her lips to flick against hers.

  Phoebe’s head swam, the room tilted and she had to tighten her grip on him to stay grounded.

  He lifted his head with a groan and pressed her head back against his shoulder.

  “Sorry,” he muttered.

  “Don’t you dare apologize.”

  He laughed and the hot rush of air from his mouth against her ear almost made her legs weak.

  “Okay. Then I won’t.”

  His tongue slid along the curve of her ear and she stumbled with a gasp.

  He gave a husky laugh and she flushed. He knew exactly what he’d done to her with that little tongue trick.

  “Easy, baby,” he murmured and then lifted his head a bit.

  Disappointment stabbed that he’d put another inch between them. Just when things were getting good.

  She was at the point where she didn’t care. She’d gone far too long without a man, and here was Craig, ready to make her feel like a woman again. Make her feel alive.

  Maybe it was because he was a cop, and it made her more inclined to trust him. That he wouldn’t hurt her and he’d never be the type to abuse a woman—even as her logical side knew that theory was crap. Statistics had long proven that police officers had a high rate of abusive behavior. But somehow, on a gut level, she knew she had nothing to worry about with Craig.

  She trusted him. Ev
en if she had no reason to, she did. And it scared the hell out of her. But at the same time, she wanted him. Wanted to do spontaneous, crazy things she’d never done in her life. Had been afraid to do after Rick.

  Or maybe it had something to do with the fact that Craig was younger. He was sexy, confident, and endearing. Plain and simple, he made all the bells and whistles in her body come to life. So why the hell shouldn’t she take this step? It didn’t have to be serious. It didn’t even have to be a relationship. It could just be one night of sex if she wanted. And right now? She wanted.

  She lifted her head from the curve of his neck and leaned back a bit, meeting his heated gaze.

  “Come home with me tonight.”

  Surprise flickered in his eyes before they burned even hotter and his nostrils flared.

  “You sure you know what you’re asking, Phoebe?”

  “I know damn well what I’m asking,” she fired back and gave him a slow smile. “Do you know what your answer will be?”

  His gaze lowered to her mouth. “My answer would be…whose place is closer?”

  Pushing the sensual limits can set off all kinds of alarms…

  Turn It On

  © 2010 Vivian Arend

  Turner Twins, Book 1

  Inheriting her grandmother’s home is a dream come true for web designer Maxine Turner. She’s looking forward to a little freedom from the constant demands of her beloved, crazy mob of a family. When vandals expose just how vulnerable she is living alone, she seeks help.

  Ryan Claymore’s well-thought-out life was wrenched out from under him when responsibility for his special-needs stepbrother landed on his shoulders. Going from military man to business man hasn’t been easy. He counts himself lucky he’s found Maxine to trade his security-system knowledge for her website expertise.

  The red-hot chemistry that sizzles between them comes from out of the blue, and they both fight a losing battle to resist. Even the secret Ryan hides isn’t enough to keep Maxine from working her way into his heart—and his bed.