Her Little Black Book by Brenda Jackson Read Free Book Online Page A

given you a blow job, has never let you get her from the back, never let you share her with a good friend. Every man needs a little kinky stuff once in a while. A good wife would know that and indulge her man. There’s a reason you seek others out. There’s something you’re not getting at home.”
    He would not agree with her aloud, although everything she’d said was true. He did enjoy the kinky once in a while and would never ask Barbara to indulge him. His wife was born and bred to be a lady, not a luscious pecker-loving man-eater. Hell, he would admit his lovemaking sessions with Barbara lacked creativity. He came. She came. But they had to put a lot of work into it. But still, he knew what side of his bread was buttered … and by whom. “My wife is all the woman I need.”
    â€œSince when?” she asked with a smirk on her face. “If that was true, why were you screwing my brains out until a few months ago?”
    â€œYou were available.”
    Her smile meant she took that as a compliment. “Yes, and I’m still available. I’m also hot and wet tonight.”
    He shook his head. In his pockets, his hands were shaking. His erection was throbbing and aching. He could pick up her scent. He could almost taste it on his tongue. She liked to smear some of that fruity stuff inside her, and he enjoyed licking it away.
    The next thing he knew, she had moved and was standing right in front of him, deliberately pressing up
against him. He could feel her hot naked flesh through his clothes. “Do you really want me to believe that you don’t want me, Ronnie?”
    He knew he needed to step back, put some distance between them, get out of the range of her heat. But he couldn’t do it. Her hot sex could home in on his shaft like radar. This woman above all others was destined to be his downfall. At times she could be overbearing, demanding, excessively jealous, and more often than not, she towed an uncivilized line, especially when she got her freak on. And he hated admitting that those were the times he enjoyed her the most because she would do just about anything to please him, excite him.
    â€œDo you, Ronnie?” Her hand had slid down to his crotch and was cupping him, holding firm to his hard erection that was still growing under her hand. “Do you really not want me? Let me prove you’re wrong by freeing this. I’ll wrap my tongue around it, take it into my mouth, and give you the relief you need, that I know you want.”
    Her erotic words, the heat of her touch—even through his pants—had him not thinking straight. Hell, he couldn’t think at all. With a mind of their own, his hands wrapped around her waist. She let go of him and ground her body against his. “When you leave here tonight, you’ll know just where I stand … just where I lay. And just who Pretty Boy prefers. Who makes him the most happy.”
    Pretty Boy—that was the name she’d given his pecker the first time she saw it. Said it was pretty, big, and could definitely handle a man-size job every time. At fifty-three,
he’d never had a problem getting Pretty Boy up and keeping it there. Its staying power amazed him at times. He was proud of that, since some of the guys he knew his age were dependent on Viagra. But not him. Ashira was twenty-three, thirty years his junior, and she could have any young buck out there, but instead she wanted him. She had explained that older men turned her on and that age was nothing but a number. He’d loved proving her right.
    She suddenly dropped to her knees in front of him, began tearing off his belt, unzipping his pants, working her way inside his briefs. Then she pulled out his engorged shaft, and her mouth immediately and greedily latched on to it. He shut his eyes, held his breath as his body came alive underneath her mouth. Sensations beginning at his groin rammed through every part of him. His heart