Authors: H.D. March
Passion in Print Press
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2014 by H.D. March
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Passion in Print Press, LLC
3052 Gaines Waterport Rd.
Albion, NY 14411
Visit Passion in Print Press, LLC on the Internet:
Cover Art by Michelle Cary
Editing by Gail Martin
This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. This eBook cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this eBook can be shared or reproduced without the express permission of the publisher.
As always my thanks go to my fantastic CE who has the patience of a saint and the tenacity of a bulldog to make me shift my butt and work. Seriously Gail I love you, I couldn’t wish for anyone better to work with. I’d also like to thank the team at Passion in Print, the editors that have trawled over my work in their various capacity and also the creativity of Winterheart Design artists the covers are truly amazing better than I could ever have dreamed of.
And again not forgetting my rock Leanne Holt.
Diolch yn fawr.
Jessalyn sipped from the chilled beer; her lusty gaze poured over the catalogue with an avid interest. One long fingernail pointed to the page; it slid on a long slow scrawl. “Wow, how do you choose?” Her wide lips broke into a ready smile, and her eyes sparkled with excitement. They rippled with the intensity of a pacific storm. “These guys are to die for; are you sure there’s been no air brushing?”
“Hey, when you see them in real life, it’s an amazing sight,” assured the petite blonde, a wicked smirk playing around her lips.
“Yea, chance would be a fine thing.” Jessalyn released one long-pained whoosh of air. Because that’s all it would be, a dream. “You’re so lucky to have had the pleasure.” She knew it was a select club with the elite service it provided; it was also one that was difficult to get into. Heck, even if it were easy, at their prices, she could never afford it.
At once, her friend’s eyes dimmed. “Yeah, wasn’t I.” Her green eyes moistened, giving the appearance of damp moss.
At once, Jessalyn reached out and touched her hand, linking her fingers. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring it back up.”
Kitty gave a quiver of a laugh, one that burned with the pain that invaded her body. “I know I paid for his services, but, I, but—” Her words fluttered to a halt.
“Jesus, just give me one moment with that bastard, and Kit, I swear I’ll kick ass.” Jessalyn finished her beer and tossed the bottle into the nearby bin, where it landed judging by the sound of broken glass.
Kitty’s crack of sudden laughter burst around the large kitchen they sat in. “Hey, Jess, I’ve never met such a pacifist in all my life, not being funny, hun, but you’re the biggest wimp on Earth.”
Jess raised one dark brow and stomped to the fridge. She didn’t answer because it was true. “Want one?” Without waiting for a reply, she kicked the door shut and plonked the bottles on the battered table that took centre stage of the room. It was a huge kitchen, complete with a dated stove which was as temperamental as Doreen, her mother. And that was an achievement because nothing on earth matched that woman for sheer moodiness.
With an easy expertise, Jess flicked the tops off, watching with a detached interest as they bounced on the wooden surface. She studied her friend and was so glad she didn’t do relationships. Instead stayed away from that institution, Doreen had made sure of that. “Do you wish you hadn’t gone there?”
Kitty gripped her beer and paused, a frown scrambled over her forehead, whilst she chewed on her lip. “No,” she eventually replied. “Because if all I have is one week of memories with LeBron, then it’s an experience I’ll take to my grave with me.”
Jess tried not to roll her eyes at her friends’ dramatic outburst. “Come on, Kitty, you can’t fall in love in a week for God’s sake.”
“How would you know, Miss I’m-the-experienced-fuck-on-the-block-bitch?” sniped Kitty.
“Shut the hell up, at least I’m not crying over a man I hardly know.” She swigged from her bottle. Then happened to glance up out of the window; speeding towards the house raced a tiny red sports car. It careened haphazardly across the drive before coming to a screeching halt in a swirl of gravel. “Fuck, hide the catalogue, she’s here,” muttered Jess.
Kitty didn’t need to ask who but hastily grabbed said catalogue and stuffed it into the drawer. She sat back, perching on the stool, and almost overbalanced. Seconds later, Doreen sailed into the room unannounced.
Jessalyn paused, bottle mid-way to mouth. This was her mother? What the frigging hell had she done?
Kitty found her voice and choked down the laughter. “Hi, Doris, had a makeover, I see.” Her lips curved into a wicked grin.
“The name is Doreen, please try and remember it.” She shot Kitty a rabid glare, and the bitch in her made its entrance. “But as you’re a blonde bimbo with a single brain cell, I suppose that’s too much to ask, isn’t it?” She finished it with a syrupy smile, dismissing her, and then turned to her daughter. “Jessalyn, why do you insist on living with a retard?”
Jess swiftly snatched the raised bottle out of Kitty’s hand but couldn’t stop the smirk. “It’s hard mother, but someone has to do it.”
“I’m going to kill that vicious tongued cow one day,” muttered Kitty.
“Join the queue, and trust me it’s a long one.” Jessalyn crossed the kitchen. “Coffee, Mother?”
“Good grief no, I’ve recently had my teeth whitened.” She flicked her fingers through her cropped hair; the stark black framed a pale face. Her long slender fingers weighted with rings of gold smoothed over her forehead. “I need some advice, some moral support.”
Jessalyn merely looked on, unmoved. “And?” She wondered about the morals bit because her mother had none, she was a bottomless pit of self-centredness, and nothing mattered apart from her own opinion and her own needs.
“Well, Samantha Gerard has taken over the presidency of the tennis club, and, as you know, we don’t really see eye to eye.”
“Mother, everyone knows you hate each other. And the problem?” She leaned against the worktop and sipped from her beer. Jess knew they were both egotistical bitches, full of Botox and tummy tucks. Doreen’s refusal to age made her resemble a waxwork at Madame Tussauds.
Jess studied her and waited. She’d been through all this before, why the hell she couldn’t phone and discuss it she didn’t know. Instead, her mother had to descend and make their lives a misery.
“She’s trying to worm her way into Bernard, to tempt him with offers of sex.” Doreen slid a bony ass onto the seat and peeled out a cigarette from her slim gold case, then, without asking, lit it. The smoke spiralled into the air.
Jess gave a delicate cough; Kit croaked and sounded as if she needed an iron lung. She threw her friend a warning glare. “Mother, he’s an octogenarian in a wheelchair for Christ’s sake, who would want him?” She shook her head in amazement. “Come on, if you were talking about a sexy piece of ass then—”
Doreen shot her a ‘
do not go there type of look
’. “And since when have you become so experienced? Probably from living with your, er, friend.” She centred a freezing smile on Kitty. “I’m sure she’s an expert on the subject of sex.”
“Aw, Jess, can I say something?” Kitty’s soft gaze at once hardened to flint.
“Naw, it’s not worth it; she’s on a tangent, won’t even listen. I mean, look at her.” Jess hitched her head because Doreen had already moved on; she continued moaning, one long wail of lament.
Kitty nodded and slurped at her drink, discovering it empty. “Yeah, guess you’re right, want another? I mean, we are supposed to be celebrating.”
Jess gulped the cold beer. Its chill exploded in her guts. “Yep, go ahead.” Then returned to her mother’s rant. “So, what are you going to do?”
Doreen pulled out her compact, checked her lips and smeared them with a deep red; she smudged them together. “Maybe you’re right, the fact he’s got a multimillion dollar bank account isn’t everything, is it?” Her sharp laugh rang out. “God but you’re so stupid, you follow George all right.”
Jess didn’t bother responding, she’d had this argument too many times. How her father was responsible for all her shortcomings. Her entire life had been witness to a continuous vicious assault between the two of them. Witnessing her mother’s constant bullying against her sweet-natured father. Which was why she had an aversion to relationships.
Never would she put herself in that position. Not once had she dabbled with a man’s cock, yet Jess had played plenty of times with her sex toys, and she’d taught herself many a way of teasing her clit to an explosive orgasm. Her dating efforts had been kept to a minimum, and eventually she had stopped. She’d frozen any offers and dismissed them. In the beginning, she’d attempted a kiss and grope, but aware her toys could satisfy her needs and it wasn’t going any further had brought dating to a halt.
Jess had decided to give in.
To live life with her vibrators, where nothing could argue back or hurt her.
For the last twenty-nine years, she’d succeeded, yet now something had shifted. And for the first time ever, she wanted to experience a full-on fuck, a dream she’d never had fulfilled. Jess craved sex with a man instead of a piece of plastic or her own hand.
Because technically she was a rare commodity, a virgin.
Not once had she enjoyed the pleasure of a hard erection thrusting into her. She rubbed her thighs together, a delicious tingle buzzed through her fanny, her panties dampened. One thing she couldn’t stop was her insatiable need for sex. If it wasn’t so serious, it would be laughable because she had to be the horniest virgin on earth.
Doreen rose with the speed of a jet taking off. “Well, it was a waste of time visiting you. I should have known you’d be absolutely no help.” She collected her Ted Baker bag and picked up her car keys that jingled in her fingers. In a swirl of Prada and cloying scent, she left. The door slammed, and then bounced back open.
“Oh, forgot to say happy birthday.” Again, the door closed with a resounding bang, the rumble of the car chugged into life and the tyres screamed as she skidded down the drive.
Jessalyn shook her head. “How the hell she passed her test I’ll never know because I’d have to be desperate to get in the car with her.”
“Probably fucked the driving examiner,” said Kitty and settled back on her perch.
Kitty sympathised with her friend, she felt for her. That she was cursed with a bitch of a mother. And yet, even starved of love, she was the sweetest person she’d ever met. Despite the brave front she put on, she hadn’t missed the glaze of tears smear her eyes. How she gave little swipes to them with the back of her hand when she thought Kitty wasn’t looking.
Kitty loved her to pieces, yet the guilt slammed into her that she hadn’t told her who, or to be more exact, what she was. Hundreds of times she’d started to tell her, the words swirling in her head, but how to explain? But she couldn’t. Kitty was too scared that Jess would no longer want anything to do with her.
She knew that Jess wasn’t condemning, so why didn’t she say the words, show her? Because she was a coward, decided Kitty, burying her head in the sand like an ostrich. For years, she’d coped, kept it secret, so why couldn’t it go on? A glimmer of remorse crept over her, but it was pushed back by the fear she’d lose her friend.