Book one in the Men of Passion Series: A contemporary erotic series about the passions and devotion of five men to the one woman who loves them all...
Kayla Saradon is a beautiful, respected psychiatrist who her friends claim has discovered the fountain of youth. Kayla wonders what her friends would say if they knew her secret is the polyandry lifestyle she shares with her four, studly "husbands" â each skilled in his own sexual specialty?
Then PI, Trey Sean Cameron, who is secretly investigating her lifestyle, explodes into her life. The ex-Army Special Forces operative raises emotions Kayla can neither control nor contain. Can Trey â a demanding and possessive lover â ever share in her lifestyle? If not, how far will she go to keep him?
Pretending to be a reporter getting the inside scoop on Dr. Kayla Saradonâs life was turning out to be very enjoyable for Trey. They had finished the meal. Kayla declined dessert, so Trey ordered coffees, reluctant for their time together to end and sure it would when they left the restaurant.
They had settled into a silence that Trey was unsure how to break. He was thankful when Kayla took the initiative.
âWhy donât we continue the interview in your room, Devon? We could talk more privately there.â
He was both surprised and pleased as he met those extraordinary green eyes.
âThat would be perfect. I would have suggested that, but I didnât know what you would think. I wouldnât want to compromise yourâahâreputation.â
Kayla laughed. âI donât care what people say, Devon. I deal in truths, not innuendoes or rumors, and I have no patience with those who cater to that kind of subtle slander.â
Damn, sheâs a woman after my own heart! âGood to know.â
He paid the check and they left the dining area. Kayla excused herself briefly in the lobby, walking away to make a quick phone call before rejoining him at the elevator.
Once in his room, Kayla immediately kicked off her shoes. She curled comfortably on the two-seater couch while Trey watched in utter fascination.
âNow, why don't you sit down beside me and get comfortable, as well, and letâs really talk,â she suggested, patting the place next to her.
Trey sat down but was far from feeling comfortable. Having her this close, he couldnât help but visualize her on the bed, naked and inviting. He hoped his thoughts, growing warmer by the minute as he inhaled her enticing flowery perfume, wouldnât become an embarrassment he couldnât hide.
âI take it you had the proverbial perfect childhood, Kayla. All the luxuries, the right schools and so forth?â
âIt wasnât perfect by any means. But yes, I did have the opportunity for the best education. So it was probably better than a lot of others. My parents expected me to do well in school, and I did because I didnât want to disappoint them. And actually I always strove for academic perfection for my own sake, as well, because I wanted to accomplish things and knew the proper education was the way to do that.â
Trey inwardly flinched, remembering those years when he had determinedly stayed in school, regardless of his hand-me-down clothes and the way some of the kids made fun of him in his younger years and then later, regardless of the times he had to go with his back and butt raw and sore from a beating. He had, however, managed to live through it and get that diploma that he, too, had felt was important, before he left to join the army.
âTell me about your parents,â he said, to cover up his own bitter memory flashes.
âThey were very socially conscious and expected me to be ever aware of how my actions reflected on our good name. If I could fault them for anything, it might be their overzealous desire for me to walk a social-acceptance line. Thatâs hard to do when you really want to ârun with the bulls,â if you know what I mean. But I was a dutiful daughter.
âI believe I read that they were killed in a car accident.â
âThatâs right. Right after I graduated from university. You know, Devon, Iâve noticed that you arenât taking notes. Do you have a photographic memory, by any chance?
Trey silently cursed his lack of judgment and decided to add yet another lie to the pile. âYes, I do.â
âHow interesting. We share that trait and I know that, at times, it becomes a nuisance, doesnât it?â
Add to the pile! âSo you are blessed, or maybe I should say cursed, the same way? And yes, it does sometimes.â
âFrom experience I know that those of us with photographic memories usually have total recall, yet in some instances not. So, tell me, do you recall every detail of practically everything said to you?â
God, itâs getting deep. âNot really. Iâve learned to block some things out, as Iâm sure you have. But I assure you I will recall your every word, Kayla,â he said it in a soft, inviting tone that he hoped said more than just those words. He held her eyes as he smiled. She returned the smile and for a minute, they didnât speak. There was no need for words. That electric current was vibrating between them again. Feeling drawn to her, overwhelmed by her nearness, Trey leaned toward her, his eyes holding fast on those inviting, luscious lips. Simultaneously, she leaned toward him and their lips touched, lightly at first. Then he pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, his tongue seeking hers, delving into her open and receptive mouth.
When their lips parted, he expected her to pull away, but she didnât. He stood, pulling her up, and melded her against his rock-hard shaft wedged against her yielding body.
âI know this is unprofessional, but damn, Kayla, I want you.â
âI can tell,â she said bluntly, her green eyes alight with a mischievous gleam as her hand reached to touch him, to fondle and explore his turgid length.
âMy heavens, youâre impressive.â she chuckled.
âGod! You know what youâre doing to me? But since Iâm not sure what Iâm doing to you, I guess the ball is in your hands,â he said as he kissed her again, hungrily and imploringly.
Trey could feel her trembling, with what he hoped was desire as they parted. âYou could write a very revealing story about me if I gave in to what I really wanted to do right now. You donât write exposÃ©s, do you, Devon?â
âStory be damned! This is a private time, between the two of us and nobody else,â he assured her.
âSo what happens from here on is off the record?â
âAbsolutely.âBobbi Cole Meyer is the pen name for Barbara Meyer, who relocated from her hometown of Jackson, Mississippi, to Nashville, Tennessee to pursue a career as a lyricist. Over the years Barbara has had numerous songs she co-wrote cut by major artists such as Tom Jones, Loretta Lynn, Barbara Mandrell, Barbi Benton, Stella Parton, The Soul Shakers, the Poppies, Bandana, Mason Dixon, the Wright Brothers and several others. She also co-wrote the theme song for the Italian movie, Summer Affair, with well-known guitarist and composer, Bucky Barrett.
Now residing in Tennessee, with new hubby, Hank, Barbara is busy pursuing a second career, writing fiction, which she claims is her first love.
Barbara's slogan is, "grab them with the first paragraph and don't turn loose until the last period." Barbara's previous books, written under the pen name, Cole Meyer, have been in several genres: drama, historical romance, sci-fi fantasy, and conspiracy thriller.