Hot toddies: JC Harroway

NSFW content: please note that our ‘hot toddies’ series contains explicit language and (very) adult situations.

Here in Australia, the weather is getting colder. We’re dragging out the blankets and brewing up the cocoa, but it’s not doing the job. We need something hot.

Luckily, Escape artists have come to the rescue. They’ve provided some of the most scorching scenes from their books for us to enjoy. As the cold winds blow outside, we’ll be heating up with some ‘hot toddies’.

Winter is coming. And so our are heroes and heroines.


From Recovery by JC Harroway (released in August; look out for pre-order soon!)

I woke to an unfamiliar sunlit room and an empty bed. Listening for noises from the en-suite bathroom, I cast around for evidence that last night’s wild coupling had indeed happened.

Killer frock in a heap on the chair? Check.

Condom packets on the nightstand? Check.

Deliciously sore feeling of overuse in the lady parts? Check.

I flopped back down on the pillow, confident that Nathan was elsewhere, and indulged in a little solo de-brief. Nathan was correct. Last night had been nothing like the contrived sex scene between him and Claudia. My stomach clenched as the X-rated memories flashed in my head. I’d experienced the authentic, one hundred per cent certified real thing with bells, whistles, and a fanfare of cherries on top.

And not just once. I’d awoken twice, Nathan pressing his erection into my buttocks and circling my nipples with his agile fingers. Both times, we’d roused ourselves sufficiently to share a couple of sleepy orgasms before collapsing back into an exhausted heap of entwined arms and legs. Did the man never sleep?

I flung out both arms on a stretch, my fingers brushing something on Nathan’s pillow. A note. Two stick figures embracing each other and the words:

Stay in bed, I’m bringing breakfast x

With ‘x’-induced giddiness filling my belly with winged insects, I rushed to Nathan’s en-suite on shaky legs.

As I washed my hands, I groaned at my reflection. Mascara ringed my eyes in smudged black circles, my chin was glowing with beard burn, and I had a dreadful case of sex hair.

I reached for a washcloth and removed the worst of the mascara, then rummaged in the drawers for a brush or comb. I quickly de-tangled my wavy hair with a wooden hairbrush that had a few strands of Nathan’s hair in it. Finding a new toothbrush in a second drawer, I cleaned my teeth and returned to the bedroom, a little more human.

The scent clinging to Nathan’s discarded shirt from last night engulfed me as I pulled it on. I made it back into bed with only seconds to spare before Nathan returned, carrying a wooden tray laden with breakfast.

My mouth watered, but it was largely due to the sight of Nathan wearing only a pair of black boxers and a sleepy, sexy smile.

I wasn’t very experienced at the ‘morning after’ thing—my face heated, but it was a little late for bashfulness. We were now better acquainted with each other—well, at least with each other’s bodies and how to draw every drop of pleasure from them.

‘Good morning.’ He placed the tray on the bed and, brushing my hair back from my face, kissed me deeply and thoroughly, banishing any awkwardness between us. ‘I hope you’re hungry?’

‘Morning.’ Further speech eluded me. I’d happily forgo breakfast for more of Nathan.

Settling beside me on the bed, he poured two mugs of tea and handed one to me, kissing me again. ‘I wasn’t sure what you liked for breakfast, so I brought lots. Oh, and I thought you might want your things.’ He indicated my clutch, which was also on the tray, before taking a piece of toast and smearing it with honey.

He ate with gusto, taking huge, manly bites, and I wondered how long he spent in the gym to keep his body in such spectacular shape. I had first-hand knowledge that there wasn’t an ounce of fat on him.

‘I’m starving,’ he said, grinning at me with his mouth full, his beautiful eyes luminous with unspoken reprimand.

I reached up to brush away a toast crumb stuck in his beard. ‘It’s not my fault. You’re insatiable.’

He winked at me, unrepentant mirth transforming his grin to boyish. ‘On the contrary, it’s very much your fault. A man can’t be expected to sleep with an exceptionally sexy woman in his bed—I’m only human, Soph. Do you like honey?’

I nodded, my mouth drying when his tongue found some stray honey on his bottom lip—the same tongue that had licked most of my body last night. I shivered.

He took another bite of his toast and then offered it to me with a knowing smile. Sleep rumpled, playful and relaxed—‘morning-after Nathan’ was dangerous to my health.

Holding his hand steady, I took a small nibble from his toast and held his gaze. Smiling broadly, he slathered another slice of toast in honey and passed it to me. ‘Eat. You’re going to need your strength.’

I ate the toast, my body a trembling, adrenaline-soaked wreck. I washed down the toast with a mouthful of tea, my eyes growing wide as Nathan picked up a strawberry and held it between his teeth. Bringing his mouth to mine, he offered me a bite with challenge in his eyes.

I wrapped my lips around the strawberry and bit into it, my lips meeting his in a strawberry-flavoured kiss. We chewed and swallowed; I was lost in him and the fresh cloud of sexual tension that accompanied breakfast. I’d never be able to eat the fruit again without thinking of him and his amazing mouth.

Nathan pushed the tray aside and pulled me to my feet. ‘First shower.’ He pulled me forward so my breasts brushed his hard chest, my nipples peaking under the cotton of his shirt. ‘Then we’re having rounds four and five.’ He slipped his hands underneath the hem of his shirt to caress my backside. ‘And then I’ll show you the photos from our successful distraction tactics.’

I had no time to question the last piece of information. His mouth met mine, his lips firm, demanding and strawberry-flavoured as he walked me backwards towards the bathroom.

In the en-suite, he left me to enter the double shower and turn on the water. He shot me a cheeky smirk and peeled off his boxers, tossing them into the laundry basket.

My stare dropped to his ever-present erection, and he offered me an unrepentant shrug. ‘I can’t help myself around you.’ He pulled me close, his breath gusting over my face as his long fingers undid the buttons of his shirt until it slipped from my shoulders.

Lust pooled low in my belly. His mouth slanted over mine and his hands roamed my body, igniting a trail of desire wherever he touched. I gripped his arms for fear of collapsing on the tiles in a puddle of hormones.

We stepped under the gloriously hot water and Nathan reached for a bottle of body wash from a tiled cubby in the wall. ‘You’re beautiful,’ he whispered, caressing my shoulders and neck with his soap-slicked hands.

I reached for his chest, fanning my fingers across his pecs to counter the wobble in my legs, and his erection bobbed between us, tapping my belly.

‘So are you.’ I moved my hands lower to rest on his hipbones, my thumbs tracing the ridge of his abdominal muscles. I closed my eyes and focused on the wonderful sensation of his skilful fingers as they caressed my body—my breasts, my stomach, my backside and between my legs.

‘Sit down,’ he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

A tiled bench ran the length of one wall of the shower and I lowered myself onto it, gasping as the cool tiles welcomed me.

Kneeling before me, Nathan continued his hedonistic treatment, washing my legs and feet. He used a hand-held showerhead to rinse the suds from my body, his fevered eyes following the path the water took over my slick skin.

‘My turn.’ Taking the bottle of body wash, I poured a generous measure in to my palm and smeared it into his chest hair, working up a lather and spreading it over his sculpted chest. I mimicked his prior actions, touching every inch of his outstanding body, my fingertips tingling as they gorged their fill of his smooth skin.

Breath hissed between his teeth, his jaw clenched and his fingers flexed against my hips, digging into me and pulling me forward to crush his erection between our wet bodies.

When I dropped to kneel at his feet, I glanced up, gauging his reaction. His pupils dilated, dark and almost predatory. His jaw clenched as his eyes flicked to my mouth and his fingers curled into fists at his sides.

Stroking his thighs and keeping my gaze locked on his, I reached up and laved my tongue from the base of his erection to the tip.

‘Fuck!’ he choked out, bracing one hand on the tiled wall behind me and spreading his feet. His eyes glinted like emerald chips as they focused on my mouth once again and his teeth sunk into his lush bottom lip—he loved the view.

A potent cocktail of adrenaline and endorphins powered inside me until my vision blurred. I smiled as I took him into my mouth, sucking him and pushing him to the back of my throat as I scanned his face, keen to witness his every reaction. His thighs tensed to steel under my palms and he rocked his hips into me, his free hand cupping my face and his fingers tangling in my wet hair. I held him firmly as I bobbed my head rapidly and flicked my tongue over the sensitive crown.

He hissed his breath between clenched teeth, his heated stare glued to my mouth as my lips clung to his hardness. His need emboldened me, encouraging me to suck harder and bob a little faster so he’d be as helpless under my mouth as I’d been under his.

His hips bucked and he began to chant, ‘Soph, Soph.’ His chest heaved and tiny spasms rocked his body as the rapture engulfed him.

Aglow with triumph, the power I wielded over him in that moment surged. With a jerk, he tried to back away from me, but I wrapped my arms around his thighs, pressing his buttocks forward as I continued to work him with my tongue and lips.

He watched the show for as long as he could, desperation in his wild stare. At the last minute, he tossed his head back and roared a long, ragged cry as he came, his fingers clenching in my hair and his buttocks squeezed taut under my hands.

I swallowed, satisfied with the bewildered awe in his face as he regarded me in the aftermath. He cupped my cheeks as the jerks of his body diminished, leaving him spent and breathless. I pulled back, releasing him with one last suck.

I rose and he swooped down, kissing me with thrilling ferocity. ‘You beautiful girl. Stay forever,’ he growled into my hair as he crushed me to his chest.

We washed our hair without speaking—me giggling and him pawing me—pausing often to nibble, kiss or lick some part of the other’s body that might have been overlooked.

By the time we were wrapped in fluffy towels and back in the bedroom, Nathan had recovered sufficiently to tent the front of the towel wrapped low around his waist.

‘Payback.’ He grabbed me, tossing me onto the centre of his bed.

 My squeals turned to moans as he disappeared underneath my towel sarong to exact his own devastating brand of revenge.


Recovery

She can’t help but want him. But neither can his millions of fans.

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