Title: Incognito

Author: Anthology

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: October 15

Ten secret authors...ten sexy secret stories... Incognito... we invite you to enter the world of the unknown... because the unknown makes it so much better.

NOT MINE TO HAVE

DIRTY SECRET

YOURS TO TAKE

UNDERGROUND ATTRACTION

JUST ONE NIGHT

PROMISES, SECRETS AND LIES

RUN AGROUND

HAREM NIGHT

SOUTHERN BELLE

THE LOUNGE

NOT MINE TO HAVE

“Here’s to your past becoming your present and having her be everything you never knew you wanted.”

We clink our glasses together and drink. Rebel takes them and puts them back in the basket. He stares at me for a moment before his lips are on me. There’s no gentle this time. Only hunger. He pushes me back on the blanket and I don’t fight. I want him just as bad. Our tongues war as he works my dress up my body. Sitting slightly, he frees my body from the fabric. A comment of how beautiful my body is passes his lips before he is devouring my neck.

I grab for his shirt, fumbling with the buttons. Consumed with the need to have him naked, I rip with all my strength and feel some satisfaction when buttons fly. He growls his approval and I go for his pants. The rest of our clothes come off in a frenzy. I lick my lips and Rebel does the same, sending a wave of need through my core.

I don’t get to say a word. He drops to his knees and plants his face in my pussy. “Rebel!” He has no idea I’ve never had oral sex before. As his tongue swipes up my middle I arch off the ground. Oh, holy hell. Why the fuck have I never done this before? His plunges and licks all around before entering his fingers too. I buck like a maniac. “It’s too much. I can’t. Fuck, I can’t.”

But he doesn’t stop. He keeps licking and sucking until my breath stops and I drop of the edge of the Earth.

I hear ripping and then he’s inside me, filling me. Oh, God, he feels so good. I push until he touches every part of me, wrapping my legs around him and trapping him there.

“Like it deep, Princess?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He pulls out and flips me over, one arm under my belly holding me up, and slams into me.

“Oh, fuck. Rebel. Don’t stop!”

He pounds into me as the spray from the ocean mists our skin. My elbows chafe on the blanket, but all I can think is I want more. Deeper. Harder. I want this man to fucking own me.

“Fuck, Starr!” My name roars from his chest and we both collapse to the blanket.

I lie there staring at the stars, but my eyes start to feel heavy. Rebel hasn’t stopped looking at me.

“You can sleep. I’ll watch over you.”

DIRTY SECRET

I drink all of her in as she walks by. Like wine, she’s better with time. Her tits sit full in her dress, ass toned and delicious looking while everything else is my Abby.

My Abby?

I let out an evil laugh.

“Are you okay?” she asks, ducking her head and weaving between the tables.

“I don’t think you want me to answer that.” My voice is harsh and I see her spine stiffen.

“I’m out, man.”

I look up to the Deejay and wave to him.

“Everything is locked up. Make sure to check the door you go out,” he adds, throwing on a jean jacket.

“Got it.”

The heavy door slams. The silence is deafening, making the club damn near claustrophobic. I can’t pull my stare from her as she bends over and picks up a black wallet from the seat of a chair.

“Did you leave that on purpose?” I growl.

She only shrugs.

“Abby, fucking talk to me.” I scrub both of my hands over my beard.

“I want to see you.”

“You’re fucking getting married.” I gesture to where her sash used to sit across her perfect tits was.

“I know. But seeing you…” she trails off.

“Seeing me did what, Abby?” I need to control the rage floating from my voice, but can’t seem to find the power to do so.

“Reminded me how much I still love you.” Her voice shakes and only enrages me further.

“Does your fiancé know this?”

“Quit being an asshole.” She throws her wallet back down on the chair. “You’re the one who just had your fingers inside me and no, Jason doesn’t know.”

I raise an eyebrow. “Jason Cordell?”

She nods. It seems to be her easy way of answering my questions.

“The man you left me for?”

She nods again.

“And you have the fucking nerve to tell me you still love me after nearly eight years.”

She doesn’t respond with a nod this time, but leaps into me. Her arms wrap around my chest, her tits pressed against my still bare chest, her lips are on mine kissing the fuck out of me. The anger slowly fades with each nip of her mouth on my sensitive lips and then the only thing left in me is the need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of the woman who still owns my heart.

YOURS TO TAKE

She begged. She actually fucking begged.

My whole entire life, I had waited for this moment. To have Aster in my arms, begging for me to kiss her. Pleading for me to give her the greatest pleasure I knew she deserved.

Brushing my thumb over her full bottom lip, I inched my mouth closer but I still didn’t kiss her. I wanted to. Fuck did I ever. But it wasn’t right. Even though Killian had left her and she was now single, she was hurting. I refused to take advantage of her.

As much as it would kill me and cause me to have the biggest fucking blue balls of my life, I stepped away. Rubbing the back of my neck, I let out an aggravated puff of air.

“Roux.” Aster closed the distance between us, placing her hand on my arm.

That tiny touch sent shivers straight to my dick.

I jumped out of her reach. “I can’t. I can be an asshole but I refuse to take advantage of you, Aster.”

“But I want you to kiss me,” she pleaded, chewing her bottom lip.

“You say that now,” I shook my head. “It’s too soon. Your wounds are too fresh.”

“Roux, I’m telling you that I want you to kiss me,” she repeated, her voice firm. “I know you’re not the type of man to turn down an offer.”

Fuck. “Thanks for that not so gentle reminder of how much of a dick I can be,” I grumbled.

“That’s not…” she huffed. “You know that’s not what I meant. I just…I want to feel something. Killian hurt me. He destroyed that part of myself that thought I could have it all. I need something. I need to feel a warm body against mine. He left me feeling cold, Roux. Please.” She came up behind me, leaning her head against my back and cupped my arms.

I couldn’t do this. Everything in me pleaded that I throw her in my car and fuck her senseless but I couldn’t. Not yet. If ever at all. She would regret it. She may not think it now but Aster was a good girl. She deserved to be loved and savored. Not fucked like an animal.

“Let’s go inside and have a drink,” I looked down at her over my shoulder. “Please.”

She met my stare. Knowing I wouldn’t budge, she grumbled to herself but released me from her tender hold.

Aster trudged past me, crossing her arms under her ample chest. The small movement pushed up her tits, making my mouth water.

Fuck my life. I should not be having these thoughts about my best friend. And definitely not on the day she should be getting married. But she wasn’t married. Killian made sure of that.

“Are you coming?” Aster asked, her voice husky. There was an extra sway in her hips with each step she took.

Shit. She was teasing me. And God, did she ever do a good job.

I wasn’t coming. Not yet at least.

UNDERGROUND ATTRACTION

I turn around to face him and his hands drop from the curve of my waist. I instantly miss the connection. Ignoring the ridiculous way I already crave his touch, I rest my hands on my hips and argue, "I know what I'm doing. I've been hitting a speed bag for years."

He laughs while wiping a single drop of sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. "Some people would say I know what I'm doing a little better than you, Rocky."

"Rocky?" I ask and then add, "Real original. It's not every day an overrated boxer references the most famous boxing movie of all time, Jase."

"It's flattering that you know who I am," he replies cockily. I want to wipe that annoyingly beautiful smirk off his face.

"It's pretty hard not to recognize you when your face is splashed all over this hotel, pretty boy."

Crossing his arms over his bare chest, Jase ignores my pretty boy dig and asks, "Are you a fan of mine?"

I hesitate before answering truthfully, "You could say that." It's hard not to be a fan of Jase Rudy when he's close to flawless in his fights. I'm usually not vocal about my admiration because my father would kill me if he found out. To him, Jase is the devil reincarnated.

"Have you ever had proper training? You're tiny but I bet you'd be unbeatable with the right coach." His observation is genuine and I smile at what I think is a compliment.

"I only hit the bag to release stress. I have no desire to be a professional, but I've had some professional training."

"Oh yeah? Who was your coach?"

Shit. I don't want our easy banter to go away. This unexplainable draw I have toward him will be broken. He'll no longer look at me like the cute girl giving the speed bag an unfair fight, but the daughter of the man who trains his enemy. The man he plans on defeating tomorrow.

The thought of risking all of this sucks but I have to tell him the truth about who I am. "John Christen."

He takes a step back, squinting skeptically before responding, "No shit..." he trails off, shock written all over his face. “John Christen was your coach?"

"Coach and father. The two can be easily interchanged."

I look down to avoid seeing his disgust at John Christen being my father. Sure, he probably respects the hell out of the man, but my father is still his competition's coach.

We're quiet for several seconds and the silence is uncomfortable. I've never been one of those women who waits patiently between gaps of flowing conversation. Awkward silence is so uncomfortable for me that I normally just spit out the first thing on my mind and hope whatever I say goes over well. Like right now I want to talk about the new Magic Mike show coming to the strip, Britney's residency coming to an end, or how I blew three hundred dollars in less than an hour on the slots last night. Instead, I bite down on my tongue so I don't fill the silence with word vomit.

When Jase clears his throat, I slowly lift my head until my brown eyes meet his gorgeous green ones.

He grins at me mischievously. "So you're Riley Christen. You're the daughter I've heard so much about. A few of the guys on my coaching team can't shut up about you. Now I know why."

JUST ONE NIGHT

“Fearless, babe. You can push me away all you want, but I’m not going to leave you alone.” He sits in the empty stool next to me.

“Why? Why are you so obsessed with me? Go away,” I say between gritted teeth.

He laughs and orders a drink too. “I really like the all-natural look. You really overplay the wigs, accents, makeup, and costumes too much. There’s no need to do that, you know. What you do isn’t illegal.” His voice drops low.

I sip my drink and try to pretend like he isn’t there and that he isn’t speaking to me. “Right.”

“And to answer your question. You fascinate me. Not many women can do that, but you.” He pauses and his eyes search my face. “You’re not like other women.”

Now I’m laughing. “Oh god. Is this where you ask me if it hurt when I fell from heaven?”

He grabs my thighs and twists me around until I’m face-to-face with him. Heat rushes through me and I finally have the chance to really look at him tonight. When he smiles he has one dimple in his cheek, and his bottom lip is plump, suckable almost. His long eyelashes brush the top of his cheeks when he blinks and his eyes are so blue they basically pierce straight through me. He’s gorgeous, just like the fucking devil.

Sailor leans in closer, his hands glide along my thighs and whispers, allowing his bottom lip to trace the shell of my ear. “The things I’d do to you.”

Oh. My. God. I’m not one who can be so easily seduced by sexy talk, but right now, I’m considering it. This isn’t my first rodeo and I’m sure it won’t be my last. I move my body away from his and look him in the eyes as I call his bluff. “Like what? What would you do to me exactly?” I take another sip of my drink, completely unamused by him.

“Come back to my room, and I’ll show you.”

I laugh so loud. “No thanks. I’ll pass on that offer. It’s one that I can definitely refuse. The audacity.”

The bartender sets a beer in front of Sailor and he takes a drink, downing half of it. “The offer still stands. But I’m pretty sure you couldn’t handle me anyway.”

My mouth falls open. I hate the reverse psychology of it all. But I can’t deny that I’m curious. A few more drinks and maybe I would consider his offer.

“You don’t even know my name,” I say.

“It’s not important. You can be whoever you want to be, obviously.”

He leans in closer. “I’d lick your entire body from head to toe. Bite your perky little nipples that are hard as fuck at this very moment. And make you come until your cunt begs me to stop. No strings attached. And just in case you think I’m making it up, call my bluff and see.”

The sexual tension is so thick that I almost choke on it. I’m a risk taker, that’s a given. But this, this is something totally different. The alcohol isn’t helping and my body is begging me to go to his room, but I’m smarter than that.

He lifts an eyebrow at me and continues to drink his chocolate looking beer. “So?”

I’m at a loss for words for a brief moment and then I almost do the unthinkable; almost.

I shoot the rest of the whiskey down then lay a hundred down on the bar for my tab and tip. I glance over at Sailor and when his eyes meet mine, I think of all of the reasons why I should follow him to his room.

I swallow hard and he lifts an eyebrow at me.

“I’ll see you around, Sailor,” I say, pushing my stool under the bar and walking through the casino back to my room. The alcohol pulses through me and all I can think about is the offer he made me. I’m sure I’m not his first.

PROMISES, SECRETS AND LIES

He rested his elbows on the table and I could feel his stare burning a hole in the side of my face. Glancing up at him, I gave him a look, “What?”

“What’s going on with you and Ryker?”

“Nothing.” A big nothing, zero, zilch.

“The tension between you can be cut with a knife.”

Jackson wasn’t stupid, he was just very self-absorbed so he didn’t notice things that didn’t directly affect him. For him to notice the tension, yeah it had to be pretty bad.

“We kissed. I had hoped it would go one way, he felt differently.”

“When?”

“The night Mom and Dad died. The night you and Sabrina got into that huge fight. What did happen that night? I don’t remember much. One minute, Ryker and I were getting hot and heavy in a closet and the next I woke up from a hell of a bender. What happened that night that had you two splitting up?”

He wouldn’t look at me. “I just discovered she wasn’t the girl I thought she was.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing, Rayne, water under the bridge.” Looked like I wasn’t the only one who had a secret. I earned his attention when he added, “I’m sorry about Ryker, but it’s probably not smart to have a booty call with your boss.”

Anger sparked. So typical of Jackson to assume everyone’s feelings ran as shallowly as his. And it was because my temper was up that I revealed more than I intended. “It wasn’t a booty call. I’m in love with him. I’ve been in love with him for a long time. I thought he felt it too, but he doesn’t. Unrequited love takes some time to get over.”

He looked sick, like the idea of me with Ryker made him physically ill. “I didn’t know.”

“Well, now you do. Don’t say anything, especially not to Ryker.”

“He doesn’t know?”

“Doesn’t matter because he isn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Rayne.”

It was the pity I saw in his expression, the same look Kitty had given me the other day, which turned my anger into something darker. I stood and snatched up the invoices. My voice was louder than I intended. “I’m a big girl, Jackson. Something you and Ryker seem to forget. Don’t worry about me.”

RUN AGROUND

But Cole's hands were folded low on his belly, right above his crotch, and through the thin fabric of his athletic shorts, I could make out the shape of him. And oh, fuck, it was a nice-looking shape.

There was nothing overtly sexual about his position, yet I yearned for the right to reach over and take my man in hand. He was close enough to touch, and I didn't think I could endure extra innings tonight with that temptation.

When it was clear that the Sox were taking home an easy win, I clicked off the television and stood, brushing my palms down the front of my cargo shorts. I'd never been one for spontaneous erections, but beer and too-thin athletic shorts and this proximity to Cole brought me damn close. My cock was heavy and aching, and I needed to find some relief far away from my guest's watchful eyes.

"We'll hit the water early," I said, desperate to keep my mind on topics that didn't involve the rasp of Cole's unshaven jaw against my inner thighs.

He nodded as he collected the empty beer bottles. He was meticulous about recycling, and had gone so far as to lecture me about the impact of plastics on marine life. Somehow, he knew as much, if not more, about preserving the seas than I did.

"Yeah," Cole said. "Sounds good."

He sounded distant, and not because he was busy tidying the kitchen. He was distracted. "Everything okay, McClish?" I asked.

He folded a dish towel into precise thirds and set it on the counter with a pat. "Great."

I didn't know him, not well enough to read his every mood and twitch, but I had the distinct sense that he wasn't great. It was the gay thing. It had to be. We couldn't have three weeks under the same roof and on the same boat with relative harmony only for it to get weird hours after coming out.

And that meant this would all come to an end soon. No more mornings on the water, no more dinners on the porch, no more ball games. Definitely no more fantasizing over him.

"Listen, man," I said, groaning as I gestured toward him. "If you have an issue—"

I didn't get the opportunity to finish that sentence because Cole slammed me up against the wall. My first thought—and fuck, I hated that the world had conditioned me to go there first—was that Cole wanted to beat my ass. But then, as I registered the hard planes of his body rocking into mine, my defenses softened.

He didn't want to fight me. He wanted to fuck me.

"Please," he said, his words breathless and tortured. "Please take me."

I should've stopped. Should've pushed him away, put this on hold, and figured out what the fuck was going on here because greedy hands were exploring my chest and the heat was increasing by the second and I was a breath away from losing my thoughts—every one of my damn thoughts—and letting need guide the way.

Yet I knew…one wrong move and this could end with some awkward moments and hard feelings, and I didn't want either for us. He was an unexpected friend, and one I wasn't ready to lose.

HAREM NIGHT

“Aren’t actual women in harems covered from head to toe, with only their eyes showing?” I asked as Kyrie ushered me down the hall.

“Yeah, sure, but we are providing a fantasy here, so although our faces will be mostly covered, the client still wants to see our bodies.”

“Do you know who the client is?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t some man old enough to remind me of my grandfather.

“Not his name or anything,” she replied. “But, word is he’s young and hot. Ex military, who went on to contract for the government. He’s only been to the club a couple of times before, but this is his first private fantasy.”

I nodded, glad that it would be some normal guy, and not some scary old guy with a fetish.

Still, how normal could the guy be if he was hiring a bunch of women to fulfill a harem fantasy? I shook the negative thought out of my head. Who was I to judge? After all, I was getting paid handsomely just to watch.

This guy was actually my financial savior…

We walked into a room at the end of a long, dark corridor. It was bigger than I was expecting. More elaborate. There were big, soft chairs, colorful fabrics adorning the walls, and the largest bed I’d ever seen. The bed was surrounded by see-through netting.

“Wow,” I breathed in awe as I took in the space.

“Pretty awesome, huh?” Kyrie said, giving me a shoulder bump. “They really do it up right for these fantasies.”

I wandered the room, touching the different fabrics as I moved.

When the other girls began to enter the suite, I realized we were getting close to start time, and my stomach clenched.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I whispered to Kyrie, as tears pricked the backs of my eyes.

I was suddenly so nervous I wanted to puke.

“You’ve got this,” Kyrie assured me, taking my hands in hers and squeezing them. “Just sit over there.” She gestured to an overstuffed hot pink chair in the corner. “All you have to do is watch. Remember, no one can touch you unless you allow it, okay?”

“All right,” I agreed, then practically ran to the corner and got myself in position.

I lifted my hand to make sure my headdress and face cover were securely in place, covered myself as well as I could with the lingerie, then folded my hands in my lap and waited.

I watched as the other girls situated themselves around the room. Some in the chairs, a couple on the floor, and Kyrie and one other girl lay across the bed. I knew that Kyrie was hoping she’d be at least one of the girls chosen to actively participate in the client’s fantasy, but she’d explained that it would be completely up to the client to decide who he wanted.

A couple of the women giggled nervously, then the room went silent when a noise in the hall sounded.

As music filled the room, some sort of Turkish or Indian sound, the door opened, and a tall man stepped inside. The lighting was low, so I couldn’t make out his features, but as he sauntered into the room, I knew he was going to be breathtaking.

He had that way about him… confident, strong, comfortable in his body.

I watched from under my lashes as he took in the scene before him, then bit back a gasp when I saw the huge grin take over his face, just as he walked into the light.

Jax, my mind screamed as I watched the tall, well-muscled man come to a stop a few feet into the room.

My high school sweetheart. The love of my life. The one who got away.

SOUTHERN BELLE

“I’m happy to see you, too,” a deep voice says from the desk where I just absentmindedly placed a quiz.

My smile instantly morphs into a scowl. I ignore the comment and take a step toward the desk behind him. His hand darts out to grab my wrist and a small gasp rushes out. My gaze darts from my wrist to his face and back again. I can’t allow my focus to linger on his features too long. His chocolate brown eyes, long dark lashes, and wide smile suck me in every time. And the day old scruff that creates a delicious shadow across his skin…I can’t even acknowledge that.

Closing my eyes, I steel the nerve to say something to him…something “teacherly,” whatever that could be. But, before I speak he lets me go. I continue down the last row, stack of quizzes in hand, without a backwards glance. What an ass.

The students hand in their completed quizzes. Then, in this day of technological advances where most students are taught using iPads, Smart boards, and PowerPoint presentations…I use actual chalk to write verb conjunctions on the blackboard. As I talk to myself in front of the class, answering my own questions that none of my students seem to know the answer to, I can feel his stare on my back. After eight months of it, I’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring him. When I do turn toward the students, I focus on those in the back.

The bell rings and most students have rushed out of the door before I can finish saying, “Have a nice weekend.”

Plopping into my desk chair, I let out a groan as my head falls back to face the ceiling.

“Don’t worry, their disinterest stems from their loathing of the actual subject more than their dislike of you.”

I scoff and allow my gaze to meet his. “Thanks for that, Jackson,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Just go.”

“Have I told you lately how insanely beautiful you are?”

I scan the room nervously.

“It’s just me and you, babe.” His sexy lips turn up into a smile.

“Stop it,” I huff out.

“You know I can’t,” he shakes his head. “When it comes to you, I have no control.”

“Well, find some.” I slap my palms against my desk and stand. “Listen, it’s the end of a very long day in an even longer week of what is probably the longest most torturous year of my life. Please. Just. Go.” My voice raises an octave as I fight back the tears that are threatening to spill out.

Jackson reaches out and grabs my hand from across the desk. I feebly attempt to pull my hand from his grasp as his soft lips kiss the top of it.

“Have a great weekend, Savannah.” His voice, all husky and seductive, does something crazy to my insides.

“It’s Señora Sullivan,” I say weakly as I watch him, and I’m ashamed to say—his perfect ass, exit the room.

THE LOUNGE

“Emery,” Whitney gripped my shoulders and turned me to face her. “They pay their membership; we are being paid as entertainers. We ohh and aww at what they say. We treat them as if they hang the moon. We give them our undivided attention and in the end, if we choose to sleep with them, that is our choice.”

I let out an exasperated breath.

“Think of it this way, if you were a bartender,” Whitney smiled brightly as she began to muster up some scenario that she felt was a great comparison to what I was about to do, “you’d serve drinks, laugh and be cordial. But one specific guy has caught your attention so you give him a sweet smile, a flirtatious giggle. Maybe you lean over the bar a little further than necessary so that he can see a little cleavage.”

I laugh and she bumps my shoulder with hers.

“And at the end of the night, he hangs around still making small talk, still flirting, throwing out all the signs of being interested.” Okay, so there really wasn’t much I could argue with regarding her story as of yet.

“You exchange numbers, making plans to hang out more.” I waited for it, because I knew it was coming. Nothing was ever G-rated when it came to my overly friendly best friend.

“Or you invite him for a little nightcap back at your place and the two of you spend hours having some of the best, nastiest, dirty sex of your life.” She laughed when I tossed my tube of lipstick at her.

“What?” she asked. “It’s not much different, because that same guy just paid you for drinks and tipped you for your services all night long.” She shrugged. “And you chose to have sex with him. Sadie doesn’t state that you must sleep with the guy she’s assigned you to. That is your choice.”

“But it’s expected,” I added and once again she didn’t argue.

“Okay fine, it’s a huge bonus for the guy if they get laid. But if you don’t feel comfortable with it, then you tell Sadie and she’ll match him up with someone else. She’d never force us to be with a guy we weren’t in some way attracted to.”

Whitney walked away leaving me standing at the mirror and I once again began to second guess myself.

Could I do this?

Could I walked into that club, with my head held high knowing that I was about to sell myself for my next month’s rent?next month’s rent?