My Best Friend's Husband Read online

  Because at the moment, Mr. Jones is standing behind her, and he’s completely nude. That muscular form gleams with sweat and I can literally count each of his abs as I stand there, gaping while peering into the bedroom window. Not only that, but his enormous cock is out and as I watch, he slowly slides it into Mrs. Jones’s pussy from above. That’s right. She’s upside down, doing a head stand with her legs split while he crouches above her and dips his pole into her folds.

  “Ooooh, Dane!” she squeals. “Yes, just like that!”

  He growls and his blue eyes gleam.

  “You like it in your kitty, Amelia? Is this what you’ve been craving?”

  “Yes, yes!” she pants, her words muffled as her swollen folds stretch around his length. “Ooh, it feels so good!”

  Dane’s expression grows even more taut, and he pushes that length deep inside her depths, the thick rod disappearing inch by inch as I watch with my mouth open. Holy cow, how is it even possible? He must be ten inches at least, and yet as I watch, his wife takes it all. She wriggles a bit, as if in discomfort, but there’s no way she’s going anywhere. She’s in a headstand, for crying out loud, so she’s stuck good and tight on that massive rod.

  Dane’s expression grows even more intense as he edges in further, but then he stops. Or more accurately, the penetration stops because there’s just no way for it to go in further.

  “You comfortable, Amelia?” he growls, gripping his wife’s thighs so that they stay wide for him.

  “Unnnh,” is her only reply. “I’m okay.”

  “Good,” he grunts. “Because now we’re ready for the final scene.”

  With that, Dane begins a steady rhythm. He keeps dipping his member into her swollen twat, again and again, while coaxing her to release. Finally, the gorgeous man reaches one hand forward and plays with her hard nub while giving her the deep pound. With that, Mrs. Jones comes undone. I watch with amazed eyes as her legs straighten for a moment, the toes pointing hard, and then she lets out a huge squeal as her pussy folds convulse.

  “Ooooh!” she screams. “Oh god, Dane, it’s SO GOOD!”

  But Mr. Jones doesn’t come in her. Instead, his thrusts grow with increasing force and depth, even as the muscles on his chest tighten. Then at the last moment, he pulls out and spurts all over her creaming cunt, the white batter spraying over her hole and coating the insides of her thighs.

  “Fuck!” he roars. “Oh shit!”

  But then, I get the shock of my life because as his hose pumps and drains itself, suddenly, the handsome man looks up and meets my eyes. Oh shit, does he see me here? Immediately, I duck down below the windowsill, my cheeks pink and breathing hard. He just caught me! As the roars and moans from inside continue, I scrabble away on my hands and knees, trying to get out of there as quick as possible.

  But something stays with me, and that’s the memory of Dane Jones smiling as he looked into my eyes. Can it be? Did he want me to be there? Was he titillated by the thought of a curvy young woman staring at him and his wife while they did it? Holy cow. It can’t be … but it is.

  * * *

  To be continued …

  * * *

  My Neighbor’s Husband is LIVE! Get your copy here.

  Sneak Peek: Daddy Academy

  Caitlin

  Caitlin’s a student at the Daddy Academy, where girls learn to please gorgeous as sin billionaires.

  * * *

  All I can do at this point is stare at the handsome man. I have no idea what he’s talking about.

  “Um, I’m sorry. I have to say that I’m totally lost,” is my admission. “We’re talking about college, right?”

  Mr. Morgan laughs again, his wavy black hair falling in an adorable queue over one eye. He un-crosses his legs and leans forward, making me wriggle in my seat a bit. He’s very handsome and I can’t help but be attracted.

  Putting his elbows to his knees and pressing his fingers together at his lips, he taps them to his mouth for a moment and then looks up at me.

  “No, that’s not what I mean. I am your sponsor, and I’m funding your scholarship. In return, you have entered a trial of sorts here at Hawthorne.”

  My stomach drops.

  “There’s a trial period? You mean my scholarship isn’t for sure? I wasn’t aware of that.”

  He smiles again, his eyes flickering down to my heaving breasts and back up to my eyes. I have to admit, I don’t really mind. In fact, feeling his gaze on me turns me on, like I’m going hot and cold at once. He continues, explaining exactly what he means.

  “You will spend a month getting to know me, and if we’re compatible, when you graduate you will receive both a high school diploma and a golden ticket.”

  Tilting my head to the side, I’m still utterly confused.

  “A golden ticket to what? Do you have the inside track to a particular college? You could get me into the institution, no questions asked?”

  He sits up and puts his hands out to each side.

  “No, that’s not what I meant although if you want me to get you into the college of your choice, I can. What I meant by golden ticket is that you’ll have access to a lifetime of ease, with me, at my mansion. You’ll have anything and everything that you desire, and I will have a partner. A lovely, curvy partner who is well-educated and sweet, and ready to meet the needs of a billionaire.”

  My mouth falls open.

  “What? I don’t mean to offend you, but what kind of sick joke is this? Is my mother here? Does she know about this? Is she part of this joke?”

  Marcus Morgan just shrugs, as I look around to see if anyone is going to pop out and tell me I’ve been punked. But no one enters the room and my voice grows louder.

  “Please, I would love to hear exactly how I ended up in this. Where are the cameras? Because you can stop filming now.”

  The billionaire ignores my irritated tone, and picks up his wine, taking a sip.

  “It’s not a joke, Caitlin. Hawthorne Academy was founded by a group of like-minded billionaires. We are all very busy men, with no time for the dating scene, and unhappy with the choices that we have in the current socialite system. We’re looking for a special girl to call our own, and decided to create our own system to go about finding and training her.”

  My eyes blink, but my face stays completely motionless.

  “What? You must be crazy.”

  He shakes its head.

  “It’s not crazy. It’s like a finishing school for innocent young girls, except sponsored by billionaires. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  I stare at him again.

  “But why can’t you find a woman out in the real world? If you’re all so rich, I suspect that it would be easy. From what I hear, women are chomping at the bit to have a life of ease.”

  He gives me a slight smile, and shrugs again.

  “The women that we meet are callous and money-hungry, which is why we tend to avoid them at all costs. For obvious reasons, that doesn’t have much appeal for men like us. We don’t want women who throw themselves at any man for money. We don’t want someone on her third husband and looking for her fourth. My friends and I, we’re looking for something a bit more specific, shall we say. We’re looking for untouched, innocent girls who have true hearts and sweet dispositions. We are looking for someone who is easy to get along with; who knows her place; and who understands that without our assistance, their lives would be completely different.”

  My nerves are gone, and in its place is nothing but irritation. I have never heard of anything like this, and it’s frankly shocking to me that he is able to sit there and say the words with a straight face. What the hell? Does he not hear what he’s saying?

  Suddenly I no longer feel like an important part of the Academy. I now feel like a possession, a pet even. I have never felt like that before, because I’ve always been in control of who I am and what I want. Never have I sought to marry a rich man, or to be associated with a rich man just because of his money.

>   “So you’re grooming girls at Hawthorne Academy,” I say slowly.

  He nods.

  “Yes, in a way. Again, it’s not so different from some of European finishing schools that teach girls so-called “life skills.” Those skills prep them to meet rich men, and in a way, that’s what we’re doing here too.”

  My eyes shift up toward the ornate ceiling, and suddenly the beautiful shimmering chandelier above us seems cheap.

  “I thought this was about college,” I say slowly. “I never would have accepted the scholarship if I’d known the true purpose of this institution.”

  He shrugs.

  “It’s not that bad, Caitlin. You can still take the SATs, go to classes, and hell, attend college if you want. This is just a training ground, with an added caveat: you’re also going to learn to please rich men while you’re here. Me, in particular.”

  “And what if I refuse?”

  Mr. Morgan picks up his fork, and pushes the salad around on his plate. I can tell that my questions aren’t all that surprising to him, and it irritates me even more that he’s expecting this. He obviously has all the cards, and I have none.

  “If you refuse, or we determine that we were not compatible, then your scholarship will be revoked and you’ll be asked to leave Hawthorne. Of course, you’ve already signed multiple waivers and confidentiality agreements when you came to the Academy, which will protect our secret. But if you play your cards right, you can go on to live a marvelous life complete with an elite college degree if you like.”

  Seriously, I’m beginning to think I’m going to spend the rest of dinner with my mouth wide open in shock. But is he being truthful? Would they really kick me out of Hawthorne if I didn’t make the choice that he wants me to make? I feel like I’m in a dream, or at least some type of nightmare.

  I begin to stutter. “But… But…”

  Mr. Morgan puts up his hand and cuts me off.

  “There are no buts, Ms. Newberry. The choice is yours. You can choose to accept my offer, attempt to make it work, and look at this as a positive development; or you can choose to not accept my offer, and to return to your old life. You will not be punished for whatever choice you make, but I assure you, colleges will not welcome you should you decide to return home. The system is the way that it is, and we both have to get what we want.”

  Sitting there, I feel like I have choices, but not really. After all, he’s a billionaire who has his fingers in every pot. Mr. Morgan has countless resources at his disposal, whereas I’m an indigent high school student. How can I even compete?

  Taking a deep breath, I nod my head at him and stand up, smoothing the skirt of my uniform down.

  “Thank you for meeting with me, but obviously, this has come as a shock and I need a little time to think about it. I will let you know soon.”

  He stands up, unsurprised, and nods his head. I pause for a moment, and then make my way out of our private dining area and back into the hallway. His eyes trail me the entire way, and my body feels like it’s blazing with heat.

  When I finally reach a dark corner, I stop and put my hand to my stomach, breathing heavily. This is not what I expected in the least. A handsome billionaire has made me an offer … but what will I do?

  * * *

  To be continued …

  Daddy Academy is LIVE! Get your copy here.

  About the Author

  Cassandra Dee is a bestselling author of dozens of hot and steamy contemporary romances. She started out writing erotica but transitioned to romance after falling for one too many book boyfriends.

  When she’s not tapping away furiously at her laptop, Cassandra can be found drinking gallons of coffee and watching lots of reality TV. She also enjoys taking the neighbor’s dog for walks, aimlessly wandering the local grocery store, and of course, reading too much about the lives of her favorite celebrities.

  Cassandra is living her own HEA with her husband and a beautiful baby boy.

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