Saturday Sexcerpt – Prisoner of the Heart by Anny Cook

Prisoner of the Heart

Available at Resplendence Publishing!

This is an excerpt from Prisoner of the Heart:

When Rebecca Iversen graduated from college, she headed home with nothing on her mind but wedding plans. Less than a month later her plans were in ruins when she discovered she was pregnant the same week her fiancé was arrested for selling drugs. Anxious to provide legitimacy for her child, she married Tom while he was still in jail. Years later, Becky finally divorced him, resolved to make a peaceful life for her children and herself.

When the reunion invitation from Karen arrived in her e-mail, her Aunt Mary urged her to take the time to enjoy a little adult time at the reunion.

Young Joe Harris lived across the street from the old Victorian where Becky lived during college. He spent those years secretly yearning for the “older woman”. Now that Becky is back and single, Joe plans to do everything in his power to convince her that he’s exactly the man she needs.

Abruptly, she patted his arm. “Arnold, it was a great party, but you know what? Joe and I want to spend some time alone. And somehow, I don’t think we can do what we’re really interested in at a public party,” she confided with a little smile.

After a quick comprehensive survey of their expressions, Arnold backed away, smiling ruefully. “My mistake. Have a wonderful evening.”

Joe laughed. “Oh, we will. Goodnight, Arnie!” Taking Becky’s hand, he headed for the doors, anxious for them to be alone.

When he parked the car in the driveway and turned out the lights, he turned to her and asked, “You’re sure you’re good with this?”

She opened the door and got out. “I’ll meet you on the porch when you make up your mind.”

By the time her door slammed, he was out of the car so fast his door sounded like an echo of hers as he hustled to meet her in front of the car. “Sassy woman.” He swept her up in his arms, carried her up the steps to the porch and paused, stymied as he fumbled with the screen door. “Have you noticed the men in the movies never have to deal with screen doors, keys or door knobs?” he observed with a huff. “Why is that?”

Giggling, Becky tugged the screen door open. “There now. Where’s the key?”

“I have it.” Joe stuffed the key in the lock and turned it while she pushed. Once they were inside, he allowed her legs to slide down as he backed her up against the wall. “I thought I would never get you alone,” he murmured before capturing her mouth with his lips. Quiet murmurs and whimpers filled the dim hallway as they kissed, exploring with tongues, nipping with increasing abandon.

Tugging his tie loose, she struggled to unbutton his shirt, desperately wanting to touch him. Without releasing her mouth, he shrugged his jacket off before pressing closer. Wriggling her hips until she could rub her mound against his cock, she sighed and yanked his shirt open. A button winged off into the shadows, pinging when it hit the wall. Shoving the fabric out of the way, she smoothed her palms over his hard chest, enjoying the way the springy curls felt under her hands and the heady scents of soap and man.

“Naked. We need to be naked,” he muttered as he nibbled the tender spot under her ear.

“Working on it.” She wrestled with his buckle, cursing under her breath as he flinched when her knuckles brushed his cock under the fabric. She abandoned the buckle going for the hard flesh instead.

Joe groaned, backed away long enough to undo his buckle and the zipper on his slacks and then he was pressing her up to the wall again. Becky shoved his pants and boxers aside, clutching his hard hot length in her warm hand. He groaned again and groped for her dress zipper, failing to locate it. Finally, he lifted his head, staring down at her in frustration. “How the heck do I get this dress off?”

Without a word, she caught the hem, tugging the dress up and over her head. Then she was standing in front of him, in pearls, sexy underwear and stockings with high heels.

Joe gasped and muttered a curse before bending to shove off his shoes, socks and pants. Then he lifted her in his arms and headed down the hall.

“Where are we going?” she asked impatiently.

“Hell if I know.” He paused in the living room doorway, and shook his head. “The sofa’s too small.”

“The floor…”

“Too rough.” He shifted her in his arms and headed for the recliner in the far corner. “Perfect.” Plopping down, he helped her turn until she was straddling his lap and then he grabbed the release handle, and the chair tilted back.

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