PICTURE PERFECT by Kate Watterson

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Victoria Lambeth has an orderly life, that is until a friend asks a special favor. Posing as a model for a book on sexuality is risky enough, but when instead of taking pictures with her boyfriend, his younger brother Wade steps in, and it all gets really interesting. In a good way. Or a wickedly bad way.

She's bright, she's beautiful, and despite his best efforts, Wade Preston can't stop fantasizing about his brother's girlfriend. He wants her, but he knows Ross is in love with her, and there are some boundaries that can't be crossed. Well, unless he's invited to cross them. Then the game changes and suddenly and those fantasies are about to come true.

Two men and a woman who is willing to break a few rules prove that unconventional love might still be picture perfect.

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Very arousing. What was up with that? Maybe it was the wicked exhilaration of how she already crossed a line she never dreamed she’d ever cross. The two naked men on either side of her were irrefutable evidence of her erotic journey into unchartered territory.

In one swift movement she rose to her knees, using her hands on his shoulders to urge Ross to his back. She’d never been big on giving blow jobs, and he hadn’t pressured her, either, but since this might garner an award as the most reckless evening of her life, why not?

His cock rose, hard and long, against his taut stomach, and he reclined against the pillows of the bed, his eyes heavy-lidded as he watched her take a fingertip and wipe a bead of semen from the shiny tip of his erection. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Wade watched them, his tall body relaxed and his arousal still impressive, even half-softened by his recent release.

She licked her finger in a long slow slide of tongue on flesh, tasting the salty essence of his sperm.

One of them gave a low groan. She wasn’t sure which.

Victoria leaned over and took the head of Ross’s cock in her mouth, circling her tongue on the smooth crest. His breath went out in a low hiss, and his fingers sank into her hair as she began to suck, her fingers curling around the base, gently squeezing.

This time the groan definitely came from Ross. “Oh…babe…”

She continued, her hair brushing his stomach as she slid her mouth up and down the hard length of flesh, her fingers working as her tongue teased and swirled, testing the slit at the crest, exploring the contours and shape of his cock until the sound of his respiration grew ragged and uneven.

“I think you’d better stop.” Long fingers tugged at her hair. “I’m going to come. Jesus, Tori.”

In response—to her own surprise—she stroked his balls and kept going until he made an inarticulate sound and the hot rush of his orgasmic release filled her mouth.

Count that as outrageous, never-done-it-before act two of the evening.

* * * *

Wade touched her…everywhere. He felt like a child with a new toy—like he’d been given a coveted gift and was filled with wonder.

He was filled with wonder, actually, and some measure of disbelief he’d gotten so damned lucky. He’d always been a breast man, and Victoria’s centerfold tits were the perfect combination of firm and soft, of full yet not heavy, with luscious rose-colored nipples. He lightly skimmed the tip of one, gratified when it tightened to a hard point.

“I could play with these all night.”

On her side next to him, her supple body relaxed, Victoria looked half asleep. “Hmm…it’s nice on this end, too.”

“I can do even better.”

That opened her eyes. “Is that so?”

“Yep.” Her sexuality fascinated him, no doubt about it. He’d never made love to a woman who enjoyed it with such unabashed enthusiasm.

Ross had fallen asleep, nude and tranquil, and who could blame him after the blow job of the century. Wade knew full well the male of the human species was a creature stimulated by visual images, but he hadn’t expected to enjoy watching the woman of his dreams suck someone else off, but it was undeniable he had. He was hard again, his dick throbbing and so rigid he ached, and unless the tantalizing woman lying next to him objected, he’d very much like to make passionate love to her again.

“Sounds promising,” she said in a light teasing voice, her midnight blue eyes holding his gaze. “I have this thing, you know, for hunky cowboys.”

He rolled in one lithe move on top of her slender body and did his best impression of a Western drawl. “If you’d oblige me by spreading your legs, ma’am, I’d like to take you on a little ride.”

Her pussy was warm, soft, and exquisitely tight, and as he sank in all the way to his balls, Wade told himself paradise did, in fact, exist.

He whispered, “This feels so fucking good.”

“I agree.” Her hands rubbed his shoulders, and her eyes drifted shut.

SEXUAL STUDIES 3
BEAUTIFUL TRIAD by Kate Watterson

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Drew Fletcher is one hot, young pilot with no roots and no rules. Toss in his best friend, Rob Hanson, and Lauren's vacation in the wooded beauty of the Smoky Mountains takes confusion to new heights. She finds Drew with his reckless smile devastatingly attractive. But Rob is all too close, and with his sensitivity and dark good looks, she isn't sure how to act. Nice girls can't be so attracted to two men...can they?

Lauren Hanes is intelligent, gorgeous, and everything else a man could want. For months Rob and Drew have pretended nothing is wrong, but neither of them is fooling the other one. As if tensions weren't high enough, a woman has disappeared from the area and local authorities are afraid she might be a murder victim.

Two friends, the woman they both desire, and a possible serial killer cross paths, and someone might just end up dead...

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The images flickered across the screen and thankfully the credits began to roll. He and Drew had lost the toss of the coin and instead of the action adventure flick they'd opted for, Lauren had chosen a romantic comedy that was definitely geared toward a female audience.

Not that it mattered to him, Rob thought, so aware of her it was like a physical touch. He'd watch cartoons if she wanted.

Drew snorted and pressed a button on the remote, shutting off the television. The small media room was just off the main part of the house, comfortably furnished with a leather sectional and a couple low glass coffee tables, the sole focus a vast, expensive entertainment center with a massive theater system. The three of them were seated the couch, and Lauren, in a thin tank top and light shorts, looked enticingly pretty with her slender legs curled under her, an after dinner glass of wine in her hand.

Arched brows lifted as she gave Drew a mock glare. "What was that sound for?"

"Sorry, babe, but these chick movies all end the same."

"Chick movies? Better watch yourself, Drew, you sound like a misogynist with a comment like that. Why was it a chick flick? Because there weren't a bunch of bad guys with guns being foiled by a bunch of good guys with guns?"

Drew looked at him. "Did you hear that? Misogynist? Back me up, Hanson. Don't these movies all end with the same sappy kiss? That one wasn't even a good kiss." He gestured at the now blank screen with the remote.

Rob grinned and shrugged. "From a male perspective, I have to admit it looked like a substandard kiss to me. She probably yawned afterwards."

"I thought it was romantic." Lauren took a sip of wine and then made a gurgle of protest as Drew plucked the glass from her hand and set it on the table. "Hey."

He turned toward her and gave her a slow smile. "I'll be more than happy to show you how it should be done."

She laughed. "Really, Drew, that isn't necessary at the moment."

He ignored the protest, his hand lifting to brush her hair back from her shoulder in a familiar gesture. One finger traced the line of her collarbone and he looked into her eyes. "You see, what we just saw was not an I-want-to-fuck-you kiss."

"Drew." There was outraged protest in her voice. "That is the least romantic word in the world, by the way."

"Fuck? Probably. But it can be sexy." His gaze dropped her mouth.

"I'm not going to comment."

"Well, shouldn't it have been?"

"What?"

"An I-want-to-fuck-you kiss. The director left us at the bedroom door. If so, the way it was done was all wrong."

"Oh, you're an expert, is that it?" Lauren's tone was teasing, but her lush lashes lowered a fraction as Drew leaned in, pinning her to the back of the couch with his body as his mouth descended to capture hers.

Rob didn't move, just watching. His friend kissed her with slow deliberation, angling his head, his hands moving slowly. At first she stiffened, probably in objection to someone right next to them, and then the gradual relaxation was apparent as she began to respond. It was a very intimate kiss, and Rob was surprised at himself to find the sight was actually arousing rather than sparking the jealous reaction a man might usually feel to see the woman he wants in the arms of another man. Drew loved her, he knew that, and it was evident in the light movement of his fingers across her upper arms, and the way he melded their mouths together.

Lauren sounded a little breathless when they broke apart, her breasts lifting quickly under the material of her thin shirt. She was also blushing.

With a smug smile, Drew asked, "Well?"

In answer she gave an exaggerated shrug, her cheeks a vivid pink. "That was okay, I suppose, but—"

"Okay?" Drew caught her shoulders to turn her to face away from him, toward where Rob sat. "That's a challenge if I ever heard one, Hanson. Let's see how you do."

For a moment their gazes locked over the top of her head.

This is it.

Lauren's eyes widened and her lips parted in alarm as she stared at him, obviously off balance. "I…I don't think we need to take this too far here."

"I don't get an opportunity at the best kiss title?" Rob felt his heart begin a slow pound, knowing he had this chance—and this chance only maybe—to convince her to at least consider the idea of two lovers. Drew had more than done his part and the ball was definitely in his court.

She didn't answer and he guessed from the expression on her face she realized Drew had essentially just given them permission to do what he hoped like hell she wanted to do as much as he did.

He didn't wait for her to think about it. Instead he slid closer, his gaze riveted on the tempting curve of her lips, his hands closing over her slim waist as he lowered his head. With the first touch of his lips she gave a betraying tremble. Then her mouth parted for the brush of his tongue.

Heaven.

She tasted like wine and warm woman, and he felt the reaction in his cock, which was already at half mast just from watching them. His erection surged as he tugged her closer, the roundness of her hip pressing his thigh, his exploration of her mouth gentle but urgent. Lauren's hands came up to clasp his upper arms and he noted the lack of resistance with a surge of triumph.

It was definitely an I-want-to-fuck-you kiss as he teased and tasted. It might have even qualified for an I-want-to-make-wild, passionate-love-to-you-all-night-long kiss. He broke away, captured her mouth again, and she made a small sound that he easily interpreted as pleasure, because it was clear she was kissing him right back with encouraging enthusiasm.
Finally he lifted his head and stared into her eyes. He saw her consternation over what had just happened, and she seemed at a loss for words and more than a little shaken. In a not quite steady voice, Rob asked, "Well, how'd I do?"

SEXUAL STUDIES 2
BLINDSIDED by Kate Watterson

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The inhospitable weather of Northern Wisconsin can be a welcome sanctuary...

Dr. Kerin Burke is in a full panic. She's run, and in the process, made a very bad judgment call. Still, the storm blowing in is the least of her problems. Help arrives, and it is the last thing she needs because instead of concentrating on how to solve her current problems, she's instantly involved with a man she barely knows. Tall, dark, and sexy is fine, but it doesn't do anything to stop her life unraveling like a loose thread.

Jesse McCutcheon isn't interested in unwanted company. He comes to the woods to get away from life, not to see the darker side of it. But when he rescues a woman in a stranded car, his life takes a turn that makes him wonder why he's always been so afraid of commitment. She's what he has always wanted, but there is something else there, something dark and mysterious and she doesn't want to talk about it.

Fine. He can be patient, but he knows this isn't going to go away. Whether she'll admit it or not, they've both been blindsided...

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5 STARS: "Blindsided is one of those books which reads a notch above the usual great book. The story centers on Kerin and Jesse falling fast and hard for each other, escalated by their smokin' chemistry in bed, while trying to make sense of 'the why' and 'the who' of all the danger and intrigue inexplicably surrounding her...The intrigue not only makes sense, but it isn't force-fed to us in the last three pages of the book. I enjoyed as a reader being a part of working out the solution. I fell in love with Jesse because instead of backing away once he learned of the danger Kerin might even be imagining, he needed to protect and support her through it. I related to Kerin's strength and yet feeling the instinct to lean on Jesse even though it was out of character for her. I could tell you about the other characters in the story, but…then I'd have to kill you, so I'll just tell you that Blindsided is an exciting story you'll enjoy reading." -- Karen Haas, Just Erotic Romance Reviews

4.5 CHERRIES: "If you're looking for a hot read for a lazy spring afternoon, then grab a copy of Sexual Studies 2: Blindsided and cuddle up. You're in for a treat." -- Tiger Lily, Whipped Cream Reviews

Surely a deranged killer wouldn't keep such a neat house, would he?

The place was gorgeous and elicited only one response. She said it almost involuntarily. "Wow."

"Thanks." Her host nonchalantly pointed to where a phone hung on the wall just to the right of the kitchen. "Phone book is in the drawer beneath. Since I don't think you're from around here, I want to tell you that Tomahawk is closer, but Rhinelander is bigger. More tow companies. You might try both."

Her own clothes were fairly wet, and her hair clung to her face and neck in cold, clammy clumps. Rather self-consciously, Kerin smoothed it back as best as possible. The phone book was a sliver compared to the Indianapolis directory, but she did find three towing companies. While she made her calls, Mr. McCutcheon disappeared up the stairs to what was presumably a bedroom. Just as she was hanging up the phone, he came back down, his tousled hair much drier, and another shirt and set of jeans replacing his wet ones. "Any luck?"

Carefully cradling the receiver, she admitted, "Well, sort of. There's a snow emergency, which I think is what you tried to tell me back on the road. I guess the police will ticket you if you're out right now. They said as soon as they could get out there, they would tow it to a garage and look at it."

"Kind of what I thought they'd say."

"The snow isn't supposed to stop for at least twenty-four hours."

"Is that so?" His face wore nothing but a neutral expression. Arms crossed over his broad chest, he leaned casually against the kitchen counter. His hair must be naturally wavy for it had begun to curl as it dried dark against the strong column of his neck. His mouth was a firm, even line.

"And," she added with gloom, "the wind is supposed to stay like this for even longer than that."

He said nothing. Probably, Kerin thought morosely, wondering how he'd ended up with an unwanted houseguest when they were likely to be snowed-in for several days. If she was uncomfortable and uneasy about being trapped with a total stranger, how must he feel about having some unknown female in his house for what looked like a long time? Taking deep breath, she said swiftly, "Mr. McCutcheon, I haven't thanked you yet for stopping to help me. I really have no desire to impose on you but there doesn't seem to be much—"

"Jesse." The interruption was smooth.

Kerin blinked. "I beg your pardon?"

His fine dark eyes looked amused. "My first name is Jesse. Mr. McCutcheon is a little formal."

Disconcerted, Kerin mumbled, "All right then, Jesse.

Dark brows lifted a fraction. "And you are?"

Had she not even told him her name? She paused a moment before she said quietly, "Kerin. Kerin Smith."

It was better for the both of them if he didn't know her real name.

Wasn't it?

She had no idea.

Jesse McCutcheon didn't even blink at her unoriginal deception. He just scanned her up and down with a quick look. "I'll see if I can come up with something dry for you to put on."

Staying with some unknown man, wearing his clothes...the situation was crazy, almost as crazy as the situation she was running from. Kerin quickly shook her head. "Don't go to any more trouble, I'm fine."

A violent gust shrieked past the house, rattling the kitchen window and sighing uncannily like a wounded animal. Her host asked politely, "You really want to spend the rest of the evening in soaking wet clothes?"

"Well, no."

"I'll see what I can do."

"Okay." Her reply sounded a little ungracious, even to herself. She modified it by adding, "You've already done too much."

He tilted his head slightly and looked at her with a disconcerting, intelligent gaze. "Would you drive past a stranded motorist, and leave them there in the middle of a storm?"

Even though the house was warm, Kerin felt cold from the sodden fabric sticking to her legs and upper body. He was right about her needing to change clothes. She shook her head.

"Of course not."

There was an undercurrent of amused exasperation in his voice. "So then, relax a little, Kerin Smith. I wasn't out prowling for my next victim, I was just driving home. And I didn't stop because I wanted to lure you to your doom. I just did what you would have done yourself. I'm a nice guy, I promise."

At that moment, the entire house went pitch dark.

And irrationally excited in the way a woman reacts to an attractive man. It stirred in her stomach, a coil of sensation she hadn’t experienced in a very long time.

No. He was a student. He was too young. She barely knew him other than in a strictly professional sense.

She must be intoxicated, or the wayward notion wouldn’t even have popped in to her head.

It was prudent to try to edge away, put some distance between them. “This isn’t bad for being so close to campus. In fact, nice.”

“Thanks.” His hold tightened, just a fraction, keeping her close. “The couch is about to fall apart, but the bed is comfortable at least.”

Why in the hell had he said that?

Her gaze collided with his when she looked upward. There was a mesmerizing intensity in his eyes that literally made her speechless for a moment. He said softly, “I’d really like it if you stayed for a little while. I could make some coffee.”

Considering her sudden heightened awareness of him, that really wasn’t a good idea. She shook her head. “I’d better get home and make myself something to eat or else I’ll feel those three drinks in the morning.”

“I could make us something, or we could order in.”

He still hadn’t let her go. Shit. His mouth, curved in a small very attractive smile, was all too close. For a moment, Jana stared his lips and wondered what it would feel like if he kissed her.

Wonderful probably, and she had the unsettling feeling he was thinking the exact same thing. In fact, considering the expression on his face at the moment, he was thinking about much more than a simple kiss.

She was used to men hitting on her, but she certainly was not used to reciprocating the interest and it shook her normal poise. When he very lightly caressed her waist, she felt an almost dizzying flash of reaction.

The Incredible Quinn was definitely trying to get her into bed.

“Chinese or pizza?” he asked, and there was the smallest flicker of triumph in the question that told her he knew just how he affected her.

It made common sense come back, even if it was temporary.

“I don’t do things like that,” she said flatly, proud of the fact her voice only cracked slightly.

“Eat take out?” His voice held a hint of laughter, but the focused expression on his face didn’t change.

Jana took a deep shuddering breath, still locked in the circle of his arm. “Come on, you know exactly what I meant, Jake. I don’t date students, and I certainly don’t go to their apartments. I had a feeling that third drink was for a purpose and I think I’ve just figured it out.”

“Cut me some slack. I’ve been trying for months to figure out just exactly how to approach you.” He leaned down so his breath fanned her temple and turned a little to press her close against him. They were now front to front, her breasts touching his chest. “Can you blame me that now that you are here, I don’t want you to go? Help me out, please, and give me a hint at what would work. If honesty stands a chance, I’ll be happy to tell you bluntly that I get a hard on every time I even look at you.”