One man. One woman. Forever bound in matrimony.
Mollie is the only woman for Declan, and he knows he’s the only man for her. So when he finds out she wishes she had more experience—and that she regrets never having a threesome before settling down—it’s a blow to his ego. And an inspiration.
He’s never wanted to push Mollie, but if she wants to try something new, he’s more than on board. As long as he’s in charge.
He’ll give the woman he loves a night to remember. With a little help.
For those times when size does matter. The Dirty Bits from Carina Press: Quick and dirty, just the way we like it.
This book is approximately 17,000 words
One-click with confidence. This title is part of the Carina Press Romance Promise: all the romance you’re looking for with an HEA/HFN. It’s a promise!
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About the Author
beloved, ridiculously spoiled Golden Retriever. She worked as cabin crew, detoured
into property development, public relations, court reporting, and education before
finally finding her passion: writing steamy romance.
Between writing, practicing yoga, and keeping the keyboard free of dog hair, Faye can be found checking out Pinterest for hero inspiration.
Visit her at www.fayeavalon.com
Read an Excerpt
"I want you to fuck my fiancée."
Declan Gerraghty couldn't quite believe the words that left his mouth, but he didn't regret them. He couldn't. There was too much at stake.
The man sitting beside him at the bar raised both his glass and his eyebrows. "You know my rates?"
Declan's gut tightened. To reduce something as weighty as this to its monetary worth stuck in his craw, but it still beat the alternative. No way could he ask one of his friends to oblige. He was having enough trouble resisting the urge to fix the stranger beside him with a fist to the nose, which meant roping in one of his friends was out of the question. He had to do things this way, or not at all.
And not at all was unacceptable.
"Yeah. I know your rates."
Since he'd chosen the Talbot Agency after considering a word-of-mouth recommendation and excellent credentials, he knew pretty much all there was to know about them.
"What format do you want the evening to take?" The man spoke conversationally, as if they were discussing the latest game result or the cold blast of late April weather. "Would you like me to wine and dine the lady first, or get straight to the evening's objective?"
What I'd like, asshole, is for us not to be having this conversation.
And what he'd really like, Declan thought, taking a swig of his beer, was not to have eavesdropped on Mollie's conversation last night.
Declan took another pull of drink. Shit. If he was really going through with this, why couldn't the agency have sent someone less like a freaking model from the pages of a men's magazine? Suave, sophisticated and ... cold as ice. It was in the guy's demeanor, in the tone of his voice, the arctic gaze. Didn't he wish for someone less glacial for his girl than the man sitting beside him at the unfamiliar bar, coolly discussing terms?
"I'll be the one wining and dining her," Declan stated. "And I'll let you know how I want things to go from there."
The man took a sip of his whisky. "I can assure you that the client always controls events." He tilted his head, eyeing Declan with a hint of curiosity. "Forgive my frankness, but you don't seem especially happy with this arrangement. We always like to ensure our clients are one hundred percent on board with whatever assignment we agree to undertake."
Fuck. What the hell was he doing?
The only thing he could do if he wanted any kind of future with Mollie. It was the only path open to him. He'd argued it to himself for the past twenty-four hours. Back and forth. East and West. Until his damn brain hurt.
"I'm on board," he confirmed tightly, pushing aside the ache in his gut and the niggling fear that this could all go belly up and bite him in the ass. "Let's get down to business."
The evening before ...
Mollie Dewar sank down into a chair and toed the kitchen door. It swung just short of closing, but at least it drowned out the noise from the living room, where a dozen or so of her girlfriends were still in full party mode.
"I've drunk a little too much," Mollie complained, stroking her fingers lightly across her forehead. "I promised myself I wouldn't, seeing as I've got the final fitting for my dress tomorrow."
"No worries," Lisa assured her, plunking a glass of water on the table next to Mollie. "I've got your back, hon. I'll make sure to ply you with aspirin and fluids."
Mollie swigged water, hoping to heaven it would quell the effect of the booze. She looked up to see Lisa's grin. "Some chief bridesmaid you've turned out to be. Getting me drunk on my ... What did you call it?"
"Your last whack at freedom party. Getting drunk is what it's all about, and it's a chief bridesmaid's duty to prepare the bride for any eventuality."
"What does that mean?" Mollie screwed up her eyes and shook her head. "I'm so plowed I can't even make sense of that."
"It means I'm there for you. Whatever you need is what I'll provide. Unless it's something I can't provide, of course. Something that only your hunky fiancé can supply."
Mollie grinned, enjoying the squidgy feeling that accompanied the mention of Declan, the man who in two short weeks would become her husband.
"I wish Declan was here now," she said with a wistful sigh. "But he's not due back until tomorrow night. Contract negotiation that needs fine-tuning. Has to stay in London to make sure it's watertight for his client."
"The joys of marrying a lawyer." Lisa nudged Mollie's foot. "Lucky you."
"I love him so much. I still can't believe someone like him wants to marry me."
"Why shouldn't he? You're a prize catch. Okay, so he and his family are high- rollers, but you're not exactly in the poor house."
True enough. Her florist business was doing okay, helped by the fact she'd recently won three corporate tenders, one of which was with Declan's law firm.
"I hope I'm enough for him," Mollie said almost to herself, voicing the fear that was never far away. "I hope he never regrets marrying me."
"Why would he?"
Mollie held the water glass to her temple. "I'm not exactly the kind of woman he's used to dating, am I? I mean, look at me." She gestured down her body: past the rounded breasts, the not exactly flat stomach, the too heavy thighs. The black off-the-shoulder shift dress she'd chosen for her hen night did little to disguise her far from perfect figure. "Even you have to admit I'm far from Declan's norm."
"So? He finally woke up to the attributes of a real woman, not some size-zero stick with the brain power to match."
"Maybe. But I've spent the last few years so focused on building my business, that perhaps I've become a bit tunnel-visioned. I don't think any of his other girlfriends were into their careers in the same way I am."
"Excuse me, but I don't see Declan's ring on any of his outwardly perfect exes' fingers."
"We haven't been dating long," Mollie felt compelled to remind her friend. "It could be he's simply trying someone like me on for size, got swept up in the novelty of it all, and —"
"Stop right there. You're a damn good catch. You've got a brain, a curvaceous body, a fantastic business sense and, as far as I know, still have all your own teeth. The simple fact is, you swept Declan off his feet, he fell in love with you, and wants to spend the rest of his life with you. You even managed to charm his family. They're probably thrilled he's not hooking up with a vacuous pin doll for all eternity."
She thought of Declan's parents, and how they had welcomed her, especially since she was marrying their only child. She wouldn't have blamed them if they'd been wary of her, or seen her as a gold-digger of sorts. Her own pedigree wasn't exactly stellar. But Declan's eminent father had taken an interest in her fledgling florist business, while his mother had taken her shopping and to charity lunches. When Declan announced their engagement, his parents had seemed delighted.
Despite all of that, and Lisa's continued support, Mollie found it hard to ditch the fear that things couldn't remain this perfect for long.
And there was one issue which just refused to go away.
"Maybe if I'd made time for relationships, I wouldn't be this unsure of myself."
Lisa clicked right into the implication. "Just because you haven't slept around doesn't make you a poor bet in the forever-after stakes, and Declan doesn't seem to be complaining."
Well no, he wasn't. In fact, he didn't seem to be able to get enough of her. Whenever they were alone they invariably ended up in bed. But still ...
"I don't want him getting bored somewhere along the line, Lisa. Everything seems okay, but I know he'd like more adventurous sex because he's tried a couple of times. I just clam up." She ran the glass over her damp forehead. "I don't know that straightforward sex will always be enough."
"You go down on him, right?"
Mollie almost choked. "God, Lisa."
Undeterred, Lisa tilted her head. "Right?"
Her cheeks heated, but Mollie nodded.
"Then you're doing fine. If a woman goes down on a man, his puerile needs are basically met."
Mollie laughed, but remained unconvinced. "I'm sure it's not that simple." She hesitated for only a second. "I've been on a few internet sites. Looking up ... you know ... kinky stuff."
Lisa's eyes went wide. "You little pervert. Planning a little extra for the wedding night? Declan will love that."
"That's just it. I'm sure he would. But I don't ... I'm not sure I could pull off any of that stuff." Despite the fact that she found some of what she'd discovered an incredible turn-on, especially when she considered doing it with Declan. Just looking at the array of vibrators she'd found online had gotten her all hot under the collar. Then there were the cock rings ... how she would love to try one of those on Declan.
If only she could let go of her fears and insecurities, but they ran so deep.
"You're still letting your mother's brainwashing influence you," Lisa said, in that spooky way she had of keying into Mollie's thoughts. "Declan loves you, and the two of you can work things out together. You said he was amazing that first time when he knew you were a virgin."
"He was." She smiled at the tender memory. "But I hate that I'm so repressed. I want him to see me as a sexually mature, adventurous woman. I just can't seem to be that."
"Hmm," Lisa said thoughtfully. "I sort of understand where you're coming from. We learn any skill from practicing it, and good sex isn't any different. Next time he tries something different, more adventurous, why not just go with it?"
"I've tried ..." She had, on several occasions, but had always called a halt to proceedings before they got really interesting. It left her feeling irritated with herself, and concerned that Declan would eventually lose his patience with her. He never had, of course, and that made her feel guilty for leading him on. But while she'd freaked out at actually engaging in adventurous sex, it hadn't stopped her wondering. How would it feel to be dominated? To completely submit to a man. What would it feel like to be tied up? A helpless participant to her own desires and needs. What sort of experiences was she missing out on because she was too chicken to go with the flow?
If she didn't up her game, she'd never know.
"You trust him, don't you?" Lisa held out her hands when Mollie nodded. "Well, there you are then. Go with the flow, let Declan show you how. You're a quick learner and you'll catch on fast."
"Heck. I can't believe we're having this conversation. I'm such a dork."
"You're not a dork, you're just a victim of a puritanical mother who made you think sex was bad. But you can get over that. Just trust Declan. Something tells me he'll be an excellent teacher."
At Lisa's wink, Mollie smiled, but she couldn't erase the doubt. Would he become bored with her? Regret slipping a ring on her finger?
"Do you remember that mechanic I dated?" Lisa asked, pulling Mollie from her musings. "Hell, did that man know his way around a woman's body. He was the one who said sex was a skill, and boy, did he ever like to practice."
"So did you, if that smug look is any indication."
Lisa made a sound low in her throat. "The best time was when he brought his friend into the mix."
"What?" Mollie's attention shot to full alert. "His friend?"
Lisa laughed. "Yeah. A threesome. It was sensational."
An illicit thrill trembled through Mollie. "Bloody hell. I could never do anything like that."
"It's never too late to try."
"I'm marrying Declan. Which means sex with any other man is out of the question, let alone two men." She sighed, still worrying about being enough for her fiancé. "I just wish I'd taken the opportunity to get more experience before I met Declan. If I'd slept with other men, had that threesome, maybe I wouldn't be having these doubts."
"I think you're worrying too much," Lisa said. "Put it out of your mind, and help me make some coffee for those drunken degenerates in the living room."
Declan didn't hear anything else. The buzzing in his ears was too loud. His knees felt weak and his gut churned.
She was sorry she hadn't slept around? Sorry she hadn't had a threesome?
She was having doubts about their future together?
He stepped back from where he'd been about to walk into the kitchen, intent on surprising her with his early arrival home.
He leaned back against the wall, trying to quell the edge of panic that tightened his gut even more.
Okay. Mollie had been sexually inexperienced when they'd first hooked up, but he'd been secretly pleased he was the only man she'd been with. He knew it was a problem for her, and on the few occasions he'd attempted to heat things up with a little bondage play, sex games, or some dirty talk, she'd tensed up so fast he'd put a stop to things.
Not that he felt too hard done by, seeing as sex with Mollie was far better than it had been with any of his more adventurous partners. Every time they were together she made his head spin. If she felt more comfortable with vanilla, he could live with it.
Yet here she was having doubts about their future because she had never taken the time to enjoy other men? And now it was too late?
It was too fucking late?
He paced the small hallway, anger pumping through his veins, hot and feral. He'd never so much as freaking looked at another woman since Mollie — okay, maybe he'd looked, but no way would he ever want to take things further. He loved Mollie. She was the only woman he wanted.
But his tentative fiancée, who balked at dirty talk and sex toys, was fantasizing about sex with other men.
Shit. He couldn't deny the bruise to his ego. Before Mollie, he'd never lacked female companionship, and he saw to it that his lovers always left satisfied. Yet Mollie was wishing for more experience, for a yardstick by which to measure his prowess.
It was frigging ridiculous. He was damn good in bed. At least he'd always thought so. It wasn't as if Mollie had ever complained. Far from it. In fact, she'd always backed off from anything more adventurous, assuring him that what they did together was everything she'd ever wanted, and more. Hardly the sort of assurances he'd expect from a woman desperate to expand her quotient of sexual pleasure.
It was a fucking conundrum.
But shit. He didn't want her marrying him with a gigantic question mark hanging over her head. And his too.
He shoved a hand through his hair. What the hell did he do now? Confront her? Ask her to explain those doubts of hers? He could imagine what the outcome would be. She'd do what she always did whenever he confronted her about anything. She'd go to great lengths to reassure him. That caring side of her would come to the fore and allay his concerns. It was part of why he loved her.
The world in which he existed was aggressive and cutthroat. There was no room for emotion in corporate law, or for giving a fuck whether someone's delicate sensibilities were hurt. He knew he'd hurt people — both professionally and emotionally — but there was no place for sentiment either. He'd learned that well, from his illustrious father's knee.
Since Mollie he'd found himself softening, questioning his tactics. She'd made him look at himself more deeply. He'd soon realized that he wanted to be the type of man Mollie would be proud of. Slowly, he'd begun changing his modus operandi and had been happier in the process.
She was responsible for that. For making him a better man.
Unseen by the partying women in the living room, he snuck back out of the house. In his car, he took a moment to breathe. His damn chest ached and his head was starting to pound. His priority was to allay Mollie's doubts. To make her see that they were in it for the long haul.
But for the life of him, he didn't quite know how the fuck he was supposed to solve this. First, he needed to get his head straight, because he sure as hell wasn't going to lose the woman he loved without a fight.
Mollie paid the taxi and hurried up the steps to her top-floor apartment. Declan was due home tonight, so she'd finished work a little earlier and stopped off at the market to get ingredients for his favorite supper — beef lasagna followed by homemade apple pie.
Her reflective mood had lasted throughout the day. She loved Declan with all her heart, but couldn't shake the fear that he would become bored with her. Intellectually, they were a match. She loved their conversations about business, about art and music, and knew she often surprised him with her insights. But sexually? She knew of his previous exploits with women, and he'd never once made her feel bad about herself, quite the opposite. But that niggling doubt regarding her bedroom skills was never far away.
She'd been thinking about Lisa's instruction to go with the flow, to let Declan show her, teach her. Maybe next time he tried to take things further she would let him.
Real ladies act like ladies, my girl. In and out of the bedroom. Only whores enjoy sex.
Excerpted from "Sharing His Bride"
Copyright © 2018 Faye Avalon.
Excerpted by permission of Carina Press.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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