Jillian Hallowell
Saucy women, packing heat and the men who love them
Writings
Jillian's Backlist
"Flashbangs and Nightsticks" www.carnalpassions.com
"Lace, Lust and Liars" www.carnalpassions.com
"Lace, Lust and Liars" (excerpt)
“Stop, Nina.”
She gazed up at him, her hair falling out of its carefully coifed style. It dropped and curled down over her shoulders, stopping at the tips of her perky breasts. He didn’t like her being covered by hair or anything else. It was a crime to cover such a wonderful body. She shook her head again and more hair fell out of the style.
“Something wrong?” she asked, a glazed look in her eyes.
“No, you just need to give me a minute.” He glanced around the room. “Come with me.”
He led her behind the last rack of lingerie. Pushing apart a curtain, he smiled at the scene in front of him. A couch sat in front of a huge bay window. Trees stood against the side walls and sound was muffled back here. Even if someone came up the spiral staircase, they wouldn’t find them.
“I don’t remember seeing that window from the back yard." She walked up to the glass and looked down over the frolicking guests.
“The seamstress used to do fittings back here and then she took her clients for a more personal consultation, if you get my meaning.”
She nodded before sitting on the white couch in her white bra and black pants. She ran her hand across the material, savoring the feeling.
“It’s luxurious,” she said.
He stood naked in front of her, his erection jutting away from his body. He wished she would run her hands across his chest again. The look of pleasure on her face from just the feel of the couch material made him ache for her.
“Can they see us?” she nodded toward the window.
“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Why? Do you want them to?” He leaned toward her with one hand on either side of her hips. She leaned back into the plush couch. He saw the excitement in her eyes.
“What would they see?”
“You, me, us...naked.”
She looked down his body and back up to his face.
He smirked. “You have on too many clothes.”
“Take them off then.” She grinned.
She gazed up at him, her hair falling out of its carefully coifed style. It dropped and curled down over her shoulders, stopping at the tips of her perky breasts. He didn’t like her being covered by hair or anything else. It was a crime to cover such a wonderful body. She shook her head again and more hair fell out of the style.
“Something wrong?” she asked, a glazed look in her eyes.
“No, you just need to give me a minute.” He glanced around the room. “Come with me.”
He led her behind the last rack of lingerie. Pushing apart a curtain, he smiled at the scene in front of him. A couch sat in front of a huge bay window. Trees stood against the side walls and sound was muffled back here. Even if someone came up the spiral staircase, they wouldn’t find them.
“I don’t remember seeing that window from the back yard." She walked up to the glass and looked down over the frolicking guests.
“The seamstress used to do fittings back here and then she took her clients for a more personal consultation, if you get my meaning.”
She nodded before sitting on the white couch in her white bra and black pants. She ran her hand across the material, savoring the feeling.
“It’s luxurious,” she said.
He stood naked in front of her, his erection jutting away from his body. He wished she would run her hands across his chest again. The look of pleasure on her face from just the feel of the couch material made him ache for her.
“Can they see us?” she nodded toward the window.
“I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. Why? Do you want them to?” He leaned toward her with one hand on either side of her hips. She leaned back into the plush couch. He saw the excitement in her eyes.
“What would they see?”
“You, me, us...naked.”
She looked down his body and back up to his face.
He smirked. “You have on too many clothes.”
“Take them off then.” She grinned.
"Flashbangs and Nightsticks" (excerpt)
“Is he watching us?”
“Yes.”
He nipped at her shoulder. “Let’s get to it then, only to protect your cover.”
“Only?” She smiled down at him from where she hung as he spanned her waist with his hands.
He nuzzled her stomach. “I’ve been day dreaming about you since you left. I want you so bad it hurts.” The last part he said loud enough for Stan to hear in the other room.
Her heart pounded. She was thrilled that he still wanted her. That he’d been thinking about her. Relief mixed with anticipation of being with Dusty almost had her forgetting their unique situation and Stan watching from the other room. Had he set her up because they had the same last name? Had he thought they were brother and sister? Sick bastard.
“You like what you see?”
“You’re pretty hot,” Dusty said, running his hand over her chest. “I want to take this slow, to make it last, but I’m so hard it aches.”
“I’m ready.”
Dusty reeled from her words. She was ready for him. He hadn’t been sure what her reception would be when she saw him for the first time. They’d ended it so suddenly. When he’d spoken to the captain, he hadn’t expected to be asked to meet with Kasey. Last he knew, no one wanted him near her while she was on assignment. His surprise at seeing her had been genuine.
He hadn’t expected to see Kasey looking like a virginal bride, hanging from a cement wall, her curly brown hair sticking to the wall making her look like Diana Ross.
A very delicious sight which made him want to kill the man who did this to her. What if he hadn’t been able to keep the appointment? Would Stan have still set her up like a trout on a platter for anyone?
Had Stan suspected something was off when he called using Detroit? Maybe he thought they were siblings. Sick bastard. Of course, that would be one way to out Kasey if she was a cop. Smart man.
Dusty wanted to kill him and thank him all at the same time. The desire he read in her eyes was like a punch to the gut. She trusted him. He knew it. He ran his hands over her flimsy white top. He stopped under her breasts, feeling her lungs expand and contract with little pants of air.
“Touch me.”
“Is he watching us?”
“Yes.”
He nipped at her shoulder. “Let’s get to it then, only to protect your cover.”
“Only?” She smiled down at him from where she hung as he spanned her waist with his hands.
He nuzzled her stomach. “I’ve been day dreaming about you since you left. I want you so bad it hurts.” The last part he said loud enough for Stan to hear in the other room.
Her heart pounded. She was thrilled that he still wanted her. That he’d been thinking about her. Relief mixed with anticipation of being with Dusty almost had her forgetting their unique situation and Stan watching from the other room. Had he set her up because they had the same last name? Had he thought they were brother and sister? Sick bastard.
“You like what you see?”
“You’re pretty hot,” Dusty said, running his hand over her chest. “I want to take this slow, to make it last, but I’m so hard it aches.”
“I’m ready.”
~ * ~
Dusty reeled from her words. She was ready for him. He hadn’t been sure what her reception would be when she saw him for the first time. They’d ended it so suddenly. When he’d spoken to the captain, he hadn’t expected to be asked to meet with Kasey. Last he knew, no one wanted him near her while she was on assignment. His surprise at seeing her had been genuine.
He hadn’t expected to see Kasey looking like a virginal bride, hanging from a cement wall, her curly brown hair sticking to the wall making her look like Diana Ross.
A very delicious sight which made him want to kill the man who did this to her. What if he hadn’t been able to keep the appointment? Would Stan have still set her up like a trout on a platter for anyone?
Had Stan suspected something was off when he called using Detroit? Maybe he thought they were siblings. Sick bastard. Of course, that would be one way to out Kasey if she was a cop. Smart man.
Dusty wanted to kill him and thank him all at the same time. The desire he read in her eyes was like a punch to the gut. She trusted him. He knew it. He ran his hands over her flimsy white top. He stopped under her breasts, feeling her lungs expand and contract with little pants of air.
“Touch me.”
