Part 13 (1/2)

When Marti turns him down again, Jackson insists on knowing why. That's when she shows him her list. He takes it, thinks about it-and calls on the only men he can trust: four buddies from his academy graduating cla.s.s.

Between the five of them, he's sure they can come up with a plan to check off every item on her list in one wild, wicked weekend. That is, if she has the nerve to follow through-and if he can bear to share her.

Warning: Contains five men on a mission to break down the resistance of one determined woman, using everything in their a.r.s.enal from BDSM accoutrements to roleplay of non-consensual situations.

Enjoy the following excerpt for Five Ways 'Til Sunday: Marti Kowalski waved a hand blindly behind her at her desk, swiping the inventory sheets she'd slaved over for two days, and her telephone, to the floor. She didn't care about the mess-or by the crunch-the loss of her phone. Right this moment, she had Jackson where she wanted him-too far gone with want to worry what damage he might cause.

His body was hard; his expression carved to a l.u.s.tful edge, which promised the kind of s.e.xy interlude she preferred-something spontaneous and surprising.

Even after all the months they'd been seeing each other, he managed to surprise her. Like now. He'd pulled her from the door of the ladies' restroom and goose-stepped her with her arm bent behind her back to the manager's office, growling menacingly into her ear about the wicked things he'd do to her.

Ma'am, keep quiet and I won't hurt you.

She'd s.h.i.+vered at the menace in his voice, but he'd rubbed her hip gently to remind her this was just a game.

She had to hand it to him. He knew what made her hot.

Jackson bent her over her desk and shoved up her blouse. His head ducked to pluck a nipple with his lips, and then he bit it.

”I wasn't expecting you,” she gasped, her fingers digging into the rigid Kevlar armor he wore beneath his dark s.h.i.+rt. ”You're on duty. Thought you didn't cross that line when you're wearing the uniform.”

His head reared back. His dark eyes flashed. ”Shut up, ma'am. You draw any attention, and I might have to get rough.”

So he was still playing the role. She widened her eyes. ”Please, sir, I'll do anything.” She tried to infuse a little angst into her voice, but inside she was laughing uproariously.

A glint of humor in his gaze might have just been the reflection of the overhead light because it quickly extinguished. He bared his teeth. A hand snuck between her thighs. A finger tucked beneath one side of the crotch of her panties and tugged. Elastic stretched and gave. His palm crammed against her bare p.u.s.s.y.

There was no hiding how turned on she was. Not when cream smeared his hand.

”f.u.c.k, you're hot.” He drew back, gripped her by the waist and gave her a little shake-just to remind her who was in charge here.

Her head bobbed backward. Her heart skittered at the strength in those large, hard hands. He could so easily hurt her, but was careful to give her just the right kind of pain.

Nostrils flaring, he did a good impression of a criminal intent on doing her bodily harm. She guessed he saw enough of them in his line of work to mimic the look.

He leaned in and whispered in her ear, ”Sure this is the way you wanna play it?”

”Baby, don't stop now,” Marti moaned.

His grunt accompanied the tightening of his hands on the corners of her hips. He gave no warning and whirled her around, then pushed gently on the back of her neck until she folded over her desk.

Her short leather skirt lifted. Hands gripped her cheeks and squeezed. His mouth pressed against her skin.