It is A Taste of Thursday and so with that, here is a little taste of Cheerleaders in Heat. Be sure to visit all the authors today. Have fun and above all else, enjoy ~ ☼ღஜ ﾚo√乇 ¸.☆¨¯`*.✿.*˜"*° ♥
First Installment Second Installment
Live ~ Laugh ~ Love
First Installment Second Installment
Juan lived on the 28th floor of the very exclusive Murano on South Beach. The Concierge was expecting Cherie and told her to go right up. She was feeling a little warm all over thinking about what was ahead for the night. On the off-chance that things didn’t go as she hoped, she brought her finger vibrator. It didn’t have all the fun stuff her Purple Rabbit had, but it would do in a pinch. Pinch! She giggled under her breath nervously. Hell, it was even fun, and great inspiration, to have along to liven up a second or third round. She watched the floors on the elevator monitor as they lit one-by-one, mentally checking them off as the elevator ascended with speed. When the car stopped and the door opened, she took a quick look in the polished reflective panels, straightened her tight ‘little black dress,’ and tossed her flaming hair for final effect. Presuming the doorman was watching on the security monitors in the lobby, they always did, Cherie waved her elegant scarlet-tipped fingers at the doorman and flashed him a sensuous smile. She had to admit, it had been a long time and she was nervous. She had trouble stopping herself from running to Juan Allegro’s door. Her heart was fluttering with the wings of a thousand doves, pounding in her temples. Her palms were damp and clammy. She mentally slapped herself: What are you, in high school? When she arrived, she tapped lightly, rather than ring the bell. Juan Allegro, Juan Allegro…. his name nearly floated off her tongue whenever she said it. Oh, God. With all her anticipation, all her preparation, all her pep talks, she was not prepared for the Adonis that answered her knock.
He was at least six-foot-three—perfect for Cherie’s five-eleven in heels. His jeans were carefully pressed and just tight enough so she could see the bulge between his legs and the stretch to his shirt across his broad chest and pumped arms gave her a pre-peek at his upper body. Juan had not undressed for her on camera; he didn’t have to because she had gotten a close look at him the night before at Palme d’Or. She had seen firsthand how he filled out his clothes. It was a relief to see that he was proud of his physique and took good care of himself. There certainly was nothing evident to be ashamed of with his body. The black polo shirt hung sexy and snug over the perfect set of muscles (by her way of thinking). He was buff, but not bulging. She shifted in anticipation as she followed him across the expanse of his apartment.
Juan escorted Cherie into a living room that was solidly masculine, yet warm and inviting. Hardly ‘Miami Riche’ in décor, the planked hardwood floors complimented the deep pile area rugs that created conversation and activity grouping throughout the room. The culturally obligatory big screen television covered almost an entire wall and settings of cozy, inviting chairs and recliners, as well as a couple of sofas, were strategically arranged carefully throughout the room for comfort and convenience to the bar, the kitchen and the sound/lighting systems. It crossed her mind—and she paused for effect—that the room, the furnishings, the lighting, deep pile carpet and manly leather aroma were all conducive to a fuckfest of monumental proportions. She was hoping he had planned that they would have one, and it appeared he wasn’t going to disappoint.
Sitting in an ice bucket on one of the marble coffee tables was a bottle of Cristal and two exquisitely carved Swarovski champagne flutes. There was a small silver bowl of plump, ripe deep red strawberries and a smaller silver one containing powdered cinnamon sugar. Next to the sugar was a miniature chafing dish that had a small candle under it warming chocolate. Gesturing to one of the leather sectionals after a sweet kiss on the cheek, Juan walked over and uncorked the bottle, filled the two flutes then handed one to Cherie.To say she was impressed was an understatement. The elegant masculine appointments throughout the apartment, or at least what she could see at the moment, were expensive, thoughtfully selected and artfully placed for maximum architectural impact. The chocolate brown and white coordinates were carefully accented by calming sea turquoise and cool iced teal cushions with rich accessories clearly paying homage to the lush SoMa view of the Beach.
Too hot for any other place than South MiamiThe disclaimer above should be fair warning about this book. One of the reasons many of us are drawn to erotica is that it allows us to vicariously live out our fantasies without injury or jail time.
The story of a promiscuous woman's sexual adventures is a staple in male fantasy.
In reality, when a woman is promiscuous she risks unintended pregnancy,
STD's injury or even death. Don't let the title of this book fool you, "Cheerleaders in Heat" is not a featherweight installment of Girls Gone Wild. It's about the erotic odyssey of Cherie, who's bored with her dating life and goes on-line to find more action. And she does.
If you are a reader searching for an unflinching look at the joys, sorrows, fears
and terrors of an adventurous woman's life, this will be a five star book for you.
It's hot, dangerous, funny and yes violent.
~ Max Lemberger
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