By Celia Stuart
Take one older girl with the fitting brownie recipe, upload one chocoholic more youthful guy, combine good with red-hot hope. What you get is Celia Stuart’s fascinating romance Dancehall Diaries: Lynette.
Lynette Peters is a shy Georgia Peach with a unusual humorousness and a brownie recipe to die for. Jon Lindsay is an erotica writing chocoholic with a weak point for older ladies. whilst the 2 join up, a steamy stumble upon within the beer backyard and a mishap with a few tarts begins them on trip as transitority enthusiasts. the foundations? His fantasies, her fantasies and no strings.
But the place issues of the guts are involved, not anything is ever fairly basic, is it?
The Bluebonnet Dancehall is legendary (or notorious) for its beer gardens--and the rendezvous that ensue there. The adventures commence with Dancehall Diaries: Lynette.
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Extra resources for Dancehall Diaries: Lynette
The erotic image he painted made her need for release even more urgent, and she locked her arms around his neck as she climaxed with long hoarse moan. * They stood forehead to forehead for the longest time until he leaned back and looked down at her while he licked his fingers clean. She watched him, her eyes hot, and his cock throbbed in response to the picture she made standing there with her lips swollen, to the musky scent and taste of her sex, to her uninhibited display and the wildness that lurked just beneath the surface.
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hold back a smile of pleasure. With a smile of his own, Jon refilled her wineglass. ” “I’m jealous. ” He forked up a bite of his pork chop and chewed thoughtfully. From the hangdog expression on his face, he obviously wasn’t looking forward to it. ” “I know. I love her but…” He just grinned and shrugged. “I’ll be back in time for dinner, though. How about we hit the Scenic Loop Café, then a movie. ” “I suppose,” she teased, lips twitching. He pushed his half-eaten dinner away and gave her a mysterious smile.
She shook her head as her nerves returned in full force. To some people, it might not seem like much of a fantasy but to her it was. And good Southern girls didn’t talk about sex. She’d have to work on that. He smelled so damn good and she loved the feel of him near her. “You promised to take a shower with me after we have sex,” he reminded her. His voice slid across her skin like raw silk. She nodded again and stood her ground as he moved closer. Lynette knew what was coming and she welcomed it.