(Yet another post copied off the International Heat Blog.)
The third new release I have coming up is the third book in the More Than series, More Than Words.
While writing the book, I knew it was gonna be sweeter than the first two. Yep, it’s definitely erotic romance, but not quite so steamy and graphic. In fact, I kind had it in my head to market it as a “Sweet romance.”
So a couple of days ago I sent it to reader friend to preview, warning her it was sweet, and she emailed back almost immediately saying:
“OMG, Jess! You call this a sweet book? It’s damn HOT! Only half way done but these naughty emails are burning up my iPad.”
I guess i was wrong.
So wanna know what naughty emails my friend was talking about?
Read on ahead for one.
MORE THAN WORDS
More Than…Bo0k 3
He’s just seen the one thing that was meant for her eyes only.
Careful to leave the TO: box blank—because she had no intention of ever sending this particular letter—she got straight to work on the content, knowing it would be deleted as soon as she finished writing it.
And just like that, Molly’s fingers were flying over her keyboard, the thoughts coming faster than she could type.
I think it’s time you knew how I really feel. Perhaps once you know, you’ll understand why I’m addressing you as Sam and not Dr. Sherman. Under the circumstances “doctor” sounds a little, well, formal.
Don’t get me wrong. I do think of you as a doctor. The best doctor in Sydney, as your patients and their parents will agree. And after what you did for Mickey, you should be awarded a Nobel Prize. But this letter isn’t about your ability as a medical expert. It’s a little more…intimate than that.
You may want to brace yourself, Sam. I’m about to get very personal.
The truth is, when I think about you, my body forgets you’re a doctor. It forgets I’m your receptionist too. When I think about you, work of any kind ceases to exist. What I imagine is way more personal, way more intimate and way more…erotic.
Thoughts of you make me all shivery inside. My stomach does these crazy flip-flops and my breasts begin to ache. Don’t worry. There’s no cause for concern. When I say ache, I mean it in the best way. As in my breasts become all tender and sensitive, and my nipples tighten into hard beads that need to be touched. And kissed. Licked too. And even nibbled. Tiny bites would always be appreciated.
The thought of you leaning over my chest, your tongue leaving silvery hot streaks of yumminess on my nipples as you lick them…
Phew. There are tons of shivers now, all of them racing up my spine.
Molly took a deep breath and looked up, checking to see the rooms were still empty. It would do her no good whatsoever if Sam or his first patient arrived without her noticing.
She needn’t have worried. All was quiet. It was still too early for Sam’s rounds to be over or for the first patient appointment.
Consumed by her words, she returned her attention to the letter. She wished she could say the writing was cathartic, wished it could ease her blatant jealousy of Sarah the surfer. But it wasn’t, and it didn’t. And to top it off, the writing was making her horny.
Oh, God. Now I’ve gone and done it. Gotten all turned on from writing to you.
Can you picture that, Sam? I’m sitting in the chair you bought me (because you said it was chiropractor-approved and good for my posture) and squirming because I’m getting excited.
You’re not surprised, are you? Haven’t you guessed how I feel about you? Don’t my huge puppy eyes give me away every time I look in your direction?
I try to hide it. Try to act professionally, but there are moments when you say something or you smile or you look at me in that intense way you sometimes look at me, and that’s all it takes to get the shivers going again.
I’m imagining you looking at me now. Your gaze makes me want you to touch me. You know how I mentioned you licking and kissing my breasts? Well, I’d hate for you to think I might not be interested in feeling your mouth anywhere else on my body. And by anywhere else, I mean down there! Between my legs.
I dream about you licking my pussy.
Are you shocked?
That word sounds so…dirty. So naughty. But that’s what happens when I think about you. All these dirty, naughty thoughts cram into my mind. They make my pussy tingle and then I get all wet.
That’s my fantasy, Sam, and it has been for a while now. Well, it’s one of my many fantasies anyway. You going down on me. Burying your face between my legs and licking my pussy until I scream—or cry—with relief.
I’d probably cry. Not because I’d be sad. (How could I possibly be sad with your head buried between my legs?) But because I’ve felt this way for so long, the reality of you kissing me there—or anywhere for that matter—would be overwhelming.
It would be like all my birthday wishes finally coming true.
Any chance of you fulfilling those wishes? I’d have to warn you though, my coming on your tongue is not the only wish I have where you’re involved. There are so many it would take a lifetime to act them all out.
But you know what I’d like the most? A kiss from you.
A sweet kiss, on my lips, so I finally get to taste your mouth and feel your tongue against mine. I would love to kiss you, Sam. Soft, sweet kisses to delight, and long, deep kisses to arouse. And all the other kisses in between. I want to try them all with you. Before you’ve kissed my pussy…and after.
I know these fantasies will never come true. Know you’ll never actually read this letter, so you’ll never l know how badly I want you to kiss me. How badly I want you, full stop. But that’s okay. Kinda.
I’m happy to sit here and imagine…
All my love and kisses,
P.S. It’s my birthday on Friday. I’ll be twenty-seven. Can you imagine how cool it would be if you made all my birthday wishes come true?
So, sweet? Or not so?