Hammer It Home: Powertools, Book 6 (17 page)

BOOK: Hammer It Home: Powertools, Book 6
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Nailed to the Wall

 

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Two to Tango

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Play Doctor

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The crew is back and they’re dirtier than ever.

 

Nailed to the Wall

© 2012 Jayne Rylon

 

Powertools, Book 5

Five sexy men with a penchant for love and lust in any variation have formed a crew. They work hard and play harder—together. Though their partnership began in construction, renovating houses and selling them for a mint, they’ve formed a bond around their shared goal to provide women, and each other, with the ultimate sexual experience.

 Over the past year, as each member discovered his soul mate—or two—they expanded the reach of their circle, lighting up their nights along with their souls. Monogamous relationships and the desire to start families threaten to put their libertine revelry on the back burner. Will the passion that bonded them fade away?  How will the new crew wives cope with the complex relationship the men will always cherish and crave?

 Determined to prove they stand by their men, the women decide it’s time to flex some muscle and give the crew a dose of girl power. They collude to take the guys as their horny hostages, using some big guns: boudoir photos, a pillow fight and a calculated foray into partner swapping. But will they have the guts to go through with their plans?

Warning: By Book Five in this series, fans will attest that anything goes in the crew. Be prepared for ménage in every flavor—m/f, f/f, mfm, fmf, and more—along with a slew of that's what he said jokes. No throwing tomatoes at the author, please!

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Nailed to the Wall:

Kayla, Morgan and Kate held congress in low tones from their perches on the rumpled duvet.

“No, nothing happened…” Kay bit her lip and hesitated when she caught sight of Devon returning. 

“What’s going on?” Dev asked.

“We’re waiting for you to get your act together so we can savor our feast.” Kate deflected genuine concern with sarcasm. “So hurry it up, punk.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll give you
punk
.” Devon sprinted the last few feet. She leaped and tucked her knees to her chest, cannonballing into the pile of plush covers between her friends. The mattress bounced, jostling them all.

“Very funny.” Kayla laughed as she whipped a pillow from the head of the bed. “But you left yourself unprotected.”

Whap.

Something puffy smashed into her face. “You did not just hit me with…”

Whap. Whap.

Kate and Morgan joined in the battle. They took turns pummeling her with the light bundles. Devon’s fit of giggles didn’t do much for her coordination. She lunged for the fourth pillow while unsuccessfully attempting to evade the incoming barrage.

Battling to her knees on the mattress allowed her to launch a counterstrike. Her one-against-three odds improved when her friends’ coalition deteriorated. They whacked each other as often as they did her. Every woman for herself.

They shrieked, chased, ducked, whooped, dove, tackled and smacked each other. Feathers flew through the air. They fell as thick as the flakes that had blanketed the mountain during the legendary blizzard that fused Dave and Kayla in an inseparable pair the previous winter. Busy daydreaming about what it would have been like to watch Dave, James and Neil ravaging Kay in front of the fireplace downstairs, Devon got caught off guard.

Whap. 

She leaned into the force of the blow, but it was no use. Her arms windmilled. Gravity pitched her inevitably toward the floor. She braced herself for impact, heart racing as she completed a split-second assessment of the minimalist railing that kept the space open to the cabin below. It would probably hold.

Instead of a slat of wood to the ribs, strong arms—too thick to belong to one of her female friends—banded around her.

Neil
. She would recognize his hold anywhere. A perfect blend of tender yet unbreakable.

“It’s all fun and games until someone cracks their skull open.” He rocked Devon against his chest. “Careful, baby. I have plans for today that don’t involve a trip to the emergency room.”

“Unless it’s because you’ve fucked yourself into complete exhaustion and dehydration, right?” Joe smacked Neil’s back, rattling both him and Devon. 

She hated that she nearly cried. Clawing at Neil’s shoulders, she encouraged him to squeeze her tighter. “You’re home early! Damn, I missed you.”

“Same goes. Couldn’t stay away any longer.” He buried his nose in her hair and breathed deep.

“What the hell is going on in here?” Mike asked as the rest of the crew piled in close on Neil’s heels.

The loft had never seemed cramped before. Hard bodies and testosterone overwhelmed Devon’s senses. She couldn’t speak so she indulged in the luxury of having them surround her.

“A pillow fight?” Dave groaned when he took in the four women, naked except for the feathers tangled in their hair and stuck to the light sheen of perspiration coating their flushed skin. They breathed hard where they’d collapsed onto the bed. “And here I thought you couldn’t get any sexier.”

“Why the hell did we need a vacation again? We’re living the dream.” Joe stared, licking his lips, while James sidled up beside Neil. He sandwiched Devon between their chests. Neil angled her so she faced their partner. Several inches shorter than Neil, he easily claimed her mouth in a scorching yet infinitely tender kiss. His fingertip traced the tattoo—similar to the one both he and Neil sported—on her ring finger.

“I missed you too,” Devon whispered when they finally broke apart.

“But not as much as Kay missed me. Right, babe?” Dave strutted to the side of the bed near his wife.

Morgan surprised them all when she whacked him hard in the gut with her pillow. “Ha! She’s got nothing on me. Without Joe, I almost died of loneliness. And horniness.”

The women’s ceasefire erupted into a second round of good-natured exchanges. Devon squirmed from Neil’s arms to join the fray. The crew cheered on their girls, calling out helpful tips. When Kate swung wide, her pillow caught the edge of the tray on the nightstand.

Mike dove for the tipping platter. The guys roared when he rescued it. Sort of like he’d done for Kate that fateful afternoon two summers ago.

“Hey, now. Truce. That’s not funny. Bacon almost became an innocent casualty. Wasting it would be a cardinal sin. Straight to hell, do not pass go.” Joe snapped up a slice and devoured it in one bite. If he were a cartoon, they would have heard the
galoomp
of him swallowing it whole.

“Did you even chew that?” James shook his head, whether in awe or disgust it was hard to tell.

“There’s nothing better than salty breakfast meat.”

“That’s what
he
said.”

When you’re down on the farm, things are bound to get dirty!

 

Carnal Compromise

© 2011 Robin L. Rotham

 

Joe Remke has just one qualification for his lovers—he wants them gone before sunrise, which makes his new bunkmate AJ about as safe as a woman can be around him. It also makes his determination to sleep with his boss downright stupid, because if Brent ever gives in, he’ll be looking for a new job.

Ladies’ man Brent Andersen knows sex with his right-hand man Joe is inevitable, but he’s not going down without a fight. Putting the new female hired hand in their cramped RV was a stroke of genius, taking the heat off him while protecting her from the horny guys on his custom farming crew.

AJ Pender’s hard-bodied roomies may hide their feelings for each other from the rest of the crew, but they aren’t fooling her—Brent and Joe are hot for each other, and it’s all she can do not to cry at the thought. If they ever found out she fantasizes about being the meat in their farmer sandwich, they’d probably die laughing. 

Fortunately for Brent and Joe, fantasies have a way of revealing themselves and AJ’s are right up their alley.  But even threesomes have their risks, and AJ can serve as a buffer for only so long before the tension between them explodes.

Warning: Flying BOBs ahead—and that’s just the warm-up! Strap yourself in for a wild ride complete with ménage, m/m, and a voyeuristic f/f scene hot enough to make three grown men beg for mercy.

 

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Carnal Compromise:

“She’s giving me that starved puppy look again.”

Joe’s murmur made Brent look up from his laptop. They sat across from each other at the dinette, and if his back weren’t to AJ, he might have checked her out covertly. But he didn’t really need to—she’d directed a similar look his way several times in the last few weeks.

“Is that a problem?” he asked in a low voice. The RV wasn’t the best place for this conversation, especially with AJ sitting right behind them, but she had the TV turned up loud enough to drown them out.

Joe rubbed his knuckles on his unshaven cheek. “It might be if you don’t find someplace else for her to bunk.”

Brent studied the man who’d been his right hand and best friend for over six years. He’d never seen Joe this on edge. His jaw was tense, his blue eyes furtive, and his dark brown hair stood on end as if he’d been shoving his hands through it for the last hour while Brent was absorbed in his bookwork. When had he gone so salt-and-pepper? Even his moustache and beard stubble glinted with a considerable helping of silver.

Actually, it was kind of surprising that AJ would be so attracted to a man showing as much wear as Joe did. Big, gruff and work-hardened, he looked older than his forty-seven years. Her attraction to Brent made more sense—he was younger, fairly laid-back and had the kind of lean blond looks that had attracted a lot of ladies over the years.

“You think so?” he asked doubtfully. “She seems more like the type to just lust from afar rather than put the moves on a guy she works with.”

“It’s not her moves I’m worried about.”

Brent narrowed his eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re interested.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re way out of her league.”

He hadn’t intended it to be a warning, but that was how it came out. At thirty-four, AJ Pender might not be in the first blush of womanhood, but she was quiet, reserved and obviously still young and innocent in all the ways that counted. She wouldn’t have the least idea what to do if guys like them took her up on the unconscious offer in her eyes, and he’d just as soon it stayed that way.

“Tell me about it,” Joe said impatiently. After another quick glance at AJ, he said, “Let’s get out of here. I need a drink.”

Brent shut down his laptop without hesitation. Shoving the receipts back into their file folder, he stood up and unbuckled his belt to take off his pliers holster while Joe did the same. After he’d tucked the tail of his flannel shirt back into his jeans, he turned to look at AJ. The lanky blonde farmhand was curled up on one end of the couch in a baggy sweatshirt and faded jeans, dividing her attention between her own laptop and some medical drama on TV. Judging by the lack of keyboarding sounds, she’d been mostly reading rather than writing.

If he were polite, he’d ask her to go along with them. Instead he asked, “Whatcha readin’, AJ?”

Red flags appeared on her cheeks as she looked up, and she put on hand on the laptop’s lid as if she intended to slam it down if anyone came near enough to see what was on the screen. “Um, nothing. I mean, nothing much. Just an e-book. They’re a lot easier to carry around than a stack of paperbacks,” she hurried to explain.

“An e-book, huh?” He tried not to grin. “We know someone who writes e-books, don’t we, Joe?”

“We sure do,” Joe drawled, shrugging into his jacket. “Ever read anything by Amanda Garrity?”

AJ’s blue eyes widened. “You know Amanda Garrity?”

“Yup,” Brent said. “So you’ve read her books?”

He wouldn’t have thought it possible, but she turned even redder. “Well, um, I think I, uh—”

“That’s okay, honey.” Brent winked at her. “We won’t tell anyone if you don’t.”

Instead of protesting her innocence, AJ just let her eyes slide to the TV and chewed on her lower lip. The confirmation that she read dirty books drew his balls up tight.

Ignoring the reaction, he said, “So we’re headed to town. Need anything?”

“Not unless you can get me a new pair of boots at the bar,” she said without looking at him. She was obviously uncomfortable with their knowing about her choice of reading material. It made him think, though. If AJ read the kind of books Mandy wrote, maybe she would know what to do if one of them—or both of them—put the moves on her.

Don’t go there. You don’t fuck the hired hands, remember?

But Joe had been known to once in a great while. It wasn’t a comforting thought.

Her words finally registered and he asked, “You need boots?”

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