Mistake (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 41,183
6 Ratings (4.0)

[Siren Classic: Erotic Romantic Suspense, bondage, HEA]

Bryce Meadows is a cop with a past, living in the moment when it comes to women. He makes a mistake taking Jenna Muirhead to his bed—and not ending their connection within his usual self-imposed time period. He didn’t convey the rules to Jenna, a survivor of a deadly marriage allowing herself a glimmer of hope after many long years of despair.

When she shares her feelings, Bryce breaks things off, crushing her. Then Jenna’s ex-husband is released from prison, a man with violent tendencies who has anyone connected to Jenna in his sights. She agrees to pretend to live with Bryce to draw her ex out for capture before he can act out. Bryce recognizes what he has lost, the real mistake he made, and plans to take advantage of their living situation to make amends. But he must deal with Jenna’s well-honed ability to distance herself, as well as the threat her ex husband poses.

A Siren Erotic Romance

Mistake (MF)
6 Ratings (4.0)

Mistake (MF)

Siren-BookStrand, Inc.

Heat Rating: Sextreme
Word Count: 41,183
6 Ratings (4.0)
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Cover Art by Harris Channing
This was a great story. I really enjoyed the characters and storyline. My one criticism would be that she forgave him pretty suddenly
Laylah Roberts




“Can’t do this anymore, Jenna. We’re done.”

His words fell between them as she initially froze and then inched away. Her green cat’s eyes locked with his and the mix of hurt and horror nearly made him explain, or, god forbid, take it back. But she shuttered them, the green opaque now, like bottle glass, until he could only see himself reflected, stark and resolute. And her withdrawal saved him from making the mistake. He had misjudged—thought she knew the score, was like all his other women, but she’d just crossed the invisible line.

Rolling her glorious, silky warmth away from him, she sat for a moment on the edge of the bed, shoulders hunched and arms flexing, and he realized she was pulling up those nylon things with the lace on the top that had undone him earlier. She rose to her feet, giving him the length of her slender back and high, heart-shaped ass, and her long, slim legs, showcased by the nylons, scissored as she moved to where her clothes were piled. Snatching them up, she stooped to retrieve a handful of lace from the floor, her thick black hair dipping to cover the side of her face, but not before he marked the pallor of her skin.

The bathroom door shut quietly behind her and he heard water running and faint sounds of movement. When the door opened, she slipped through on noiseless feet and made her way out of his bedroom, once again the sedate receptionist, not once looking his way. Bryce remembered she’d left her car in the lot at the bar. He’d asked her to come with him in his truck while he drove them home, not wanting to lose a moment of contact until he got her into his bed. Contact he’d just ripped asunder like so much thin tissue paper, but it was for the best. They’d lasted a long time, a record for him, and his need for her seemed insatiable until she’d said it. He didn’t, couldn’t do special. Never again.

Shit. Wrestling with the unwelcome feelings, he shoved the covers back and levered himself out of bed, groping for his pants and quickly pulling them on, ignoring his boxers. Snagging a tee from the dresser he hustled out after her. “I’ll drive you home.”

Silence. Rounding the living room archway, cool, damp air greeted him, his front door slightly ajar and no sign of Jenna. Goddamn it. It was the middle of the night and she’d walked right out of his house, without transportation. He should have picked a better time to tell her they were over, but the thought of compounding his perfidy by sleeping beside her all night and probably waking her with early morning sex before he broke the news just hadn’t set well. Made him even more of an asshole. Better he told her bluntly like he had, even if it’d been harsh. It left no room for interpretation, being exactly what it was.

Grabbing the truck keys, he stomped his bare feet into his boots, not pausing to grab a jacket. There was no sign of her in the immediate vicinity. A glance up and down the street didn’t detect any feminine form either. Goddamn it. What was it that she didn’t take her safety seriously when he’d noted how usually careful she was? He ignored the immediate answer his brain provided—he’d hurt her so badly she’d simply fled, unable to be near him, running like an animal to lick her wounds in private. Wincing at the memory of the look in her eyes, he keyed open the locks and swung into the driver’s seat, the vehicle still scented like Jenna. What did it say about him that his cock responded to her faint, spicy scent? Maybe his body knew better. Maybe pushing her away had been the real mistake. Bryce tamped that idea down with everything he had. Never again.

Cruising around the block, widening the search area with every full circle didn’t garner any results and with a curse he drove swiftly to her darkened house, only the bright light above the door visible. He parked two car lengths down, out of the pool of amber cast by the streetlight and waited, working hard at pushing down his anxiety. If she didn’t arrive within fifteen minutes he’d start the search again—surely she hadn’t walked.

After an eternity a yellow cab cruised past, brake lights flashed, and it pulled up to the curb directly in front of Jenna’s. The internal light came on and he could see her passing what had to be the fare over the seat before the back passenger door, curbside, swung open. He reached for the ignition key, deciding that he’d hang around until he was sure she entered her home, but found the key ring loose in one hand, the other on the door handle. He was out of the truck and striding toward her without any real conscious thought other than feeling extreme relief she was safe, followed by extreme anger she’d worried him. His gait slowed at his intense reaction until he reassured himself he would have felt that worried about any woman out on the streets in the dark.

The cab peeled away, and he caught up with her at the front steps. Her body appeared smaller, deflated somehow, and jerked in reaction to his approach. But when she looked at him there was no expression on her face, her eyes blank and empty. Not even a flicker of concern that it could have been fucking anyone bearing down on her, alone and unprotected five feet from the safety of her home. She didn’t care. He’d done that to her.

Another excess of unpleasant emotions washed through him and his hand shot out to grab her arm, pulling her fully around to face him. She didn’t fight him, her body nearly lax. “Goddamn it, Jenna! You don’t fucking walk out into the night and take that kind of chance with your safety. I’d have taken you home!”

A lift of her shoulders signalled she’d just taken a deep breath. Those full, sweet lips, pale beneath the porch light, parted. In a deadened voice, a sharp contrast to the content of her reply, she said, “You’re right. I overreacted. I’d never been kicked to the curb immediately after being fucked before. I should have asked the kicker for a ride home. Won’t happen again.”




“Arrogant, bossy jerk.” Angry now, her face was suffused with color, lips set and her eyes flashing. She was throwing attitude and he felt himself growing hard.

“I’m good with that description if it means you heard me loud and clear.”

She didn’t respond and he shrugged mentally. He’d just have to make her promise with some encouragement.

Swivelling his hips, he dropped her back on the couch and lifted to cage her with his arms and his weight. He yanked at the bulk of the material shielding her from his view and pushed it aside, ignoring her attempts to keep covered.

Trading on his injury, he grunted. “Take care with my arm, Jenna.”

She immediately froze and looked up at him anxiously. Her mouth opened and he slammed his down to absorb her words, thrusting in his tongue. She melted and kissed him back, no longer fighting him. When he took his mouth away, her lids fluttered open and her eyes were hazed with desire. He straightened enough to pull his tee off and then found a taut nipple, drawing it between his teeth to suckle it. His thumb found her other bud and he rubbed circles on it, Jenna’s moans rising to his ears. Reluctantly abandoning her breasts, he traced a path between them with his tongue, scenting her cinnamon smell. Her hands pushed into his hair but he resisted her efforts to hold him there and licked down her belly, nibbling here and there, hearing her moans punctuated by whimpers. Her thighs fell apart as he approached her apex and the tang of arousal met him.

Folding her legs up and pushing one knee against the back of the couch, he then spread her folds wide, noting the wetness within, the tiny mouth of her pussy pouting. Her clit poked out like a swollen pearl but he ignored its siren call, pressing open mouthed kisses on her, huffing his breath against her. When she writhed he pushed his hands beneath her ass cheeks to lift her and open her further for his perusal. She was beautiful everywhere, her puckered opening now visible, clenching against the spread of her buttocks. He licked her from anus to clit and lanced his tongue into her channel, over and over, still avoiding her clit.

Jenna cried out and tried to twist in his grip but couldn’t find the leverage, just as he planned. His knees replaced his hands beneath her ass, tilting her back further so she couldn’t rise up and he set his elbows against her widespread thighs. His mouth watered to taste her again, but he needed to see her face and gauge her response.

Leaning back enough to allow him to keep her immobilized while giving his hands access he ordered, “Keep your hands away, Jenna. Or I’ll handcuff you.”

Well. The way her pussy gushed informed him his woman wasn’t adverse to some kink. Still, he doubted she’d be able to obey him when he got down to business so he planned his counteraction. Staring up at him, her face as open and vulnerable as her pussy, Jenna nodded.

He pushed two fingers up inside of her, hooking them deep to find her G-spot, the spongy surface instantly responding to his touch. He worked it as he slid his thumb through her cream to coat her rosebud, pressing insistently, ignoring how it tried to keep him out. “I’m getting in here, Jenna. Just my fingers today, but my cock another time.”

She bit her lip and turned her head from side to side, thick hair flowing around it and becoming tangled as she processed what he was doing to her. Continuing to torment her G-spot, his thumb popped through the resistant outer ring of her anus and into tight, incredible heat. Both of his hands were now occupied and he kept a close eye on hers but they remained fisted at her sides. He loved the look of a woman with her hands stretched above her head, the position lifting her breasts and signifying her surrender. “Hands over your head, sweetheart. Lace your fingers together and keep them there.”

“Babe,” she breathed, then did as he told her. Her eyes reflected her additional arousal. They’d be exploring some more of his fantasies in the near future—and hopefully some of hers. In the meantime, he had a job to do.

Working her G-spot and stretching her ass, he added a finger to his thumb’s invasion and thrilled to Jenna’s immediate response. She clenched and pushed back on him, allowing him deeper to tantalize the nerve rich walls, the juices from her pussy dripping to lubricate his entry. He watched her climb toward release, nipples tightening further to match the tautness of the skin over her cheekbones. When he felt the tiny ripples of her sheath and saw her begin to pant, he stopped his movements.

“Oh god. I was almost there. Don’t stop. Please, Bryce.”

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