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Behind the Pages

Click image to access bonus content. Deleted scenes, character chats, and more!

Lust Lace & Lingerie
Coming soon from Blushing Books

I love managing the sexy Dallas boutique Red Light Lingerie. I got to talk to people about sex, toys and bedroom wear. One of my favorite erotic benefits? My boss, Maxwell Penn, is a Matthew McConaughey lookalike-but with a British accent. Okay, he can be domineering and I spend most of my time on the clock fluctuating between "I want to bed him" and "I want to strangle him." But still, yum.

Tonight, however, everything changes.

An old friend of Max's from Britain, a lingerie designer, has flown in to show Max a couple possible pieces for our new Risqué line of bedroom wear-but their model canceled. Can you see where this is going? Yep. I go from manager to model, and before I can say G-string, this spur-of-the-moment modeling gig ignites in passion and little ol' me finds herself sandwiched between Max and his dark-n-sexy best friend.

I'd be in Heaven if it wasn't for the guilt swirling in Max's blue eyes. But guilt for what?


Re-Releasing Soon

Read Reviews | Read Excerpt



“Wow this book is HOT...[it] has very detailed sex scenes and an interesting storyline that kept me reading, I couldn’t put the book down!” ~Wanda, Romance Writers Reviews

“I was cheering for Bree to get her Max… Lust, Lace & Lingerie is an erotic and passion filled way to escape reality for a bit of time. A great addition to my erotic library.” ~Jo, Joyfully Reviewed

“The depth and complexity [of Lust, Lace & Lingerie] is refreshing and not always portrayed in erotic stories.” ~Charity Daugherty, Nocturne Romance Reads.

“I would recommend Lust, Lace and Lingerie for anyone who likes reading about ménage à trois and foursomes.”
~Thomas Dobson, Sizzling Hot Book Reviews.

“Ms. Evans created a very sexy story that will keep your heart pounding. Lust, Lace & Lingerie is steamy to the core.” ~Amazon Nymph, Literary Nymphs Reviews

“Lust, Lace & Lingerie is a dark and compelling journey that takes you from the depths of guilt to the redemption that only love can provide. Ms. Evans has created characters so real it feels as if you could meet them walking down the street.” ~Buttercup, Whipped Cream Reviews (Click here to read the full review!)

“The sex was steamy and a little risqué and there was no illusion that it was more than just sex. When it was more, the reader knew it. A love story of a different sort.” ~Chris, Night Owl Reviews



By reading any further, you are stating that you are at least 18 years of age. If you are under the age of 18, it is necessary to exit this site.

When I was finished cashing out, I stored the day’s earnings in the safe then grabbed my travel bag from beneath my desk. The task had taken about five percent brain power, which was a damn good thing. My body was in countdown mode. Just under an hour until my date. Calculate two hours for dinner and small talk. Thirty minutes from the restaurant to my apartment. Ten to fifteen minutes to get inside and get naked.

Ugh, I still had almost four hours to suffer before I could scratch this sexual itch. Damn. Much longer and the itch would turn into a flippin’ rash.

But I tried not to dwell on the negatives. Tonight would be fantastic. If not fantastic, at least there’d be sex involved. Sex! A major plus for me these days. Since Max had hired me, my personal life and dodo birds had a lot in common. Neither existed anymore.

The position had been chaotic since day one, but then Max’s wife, Gina, had passed away and things had gone from “stressed” to “frenzied”. On top of my normal duties, I now had to deal with most of Max’s day-to-day operation junk. I couldn’t get upset with him though. To lose a spouse had to be unthinkable.

On a selfish note, I wish Gina’s death hadn’t taken my friend from me. Max and I had gotten very close in the months leading up to her death, but now we were practically strangers again. I sighed. Max was—

My office door squeaked open.

I jumped, my heart thudding a frantic rhythm in my chest. Adrenaline driving my actions, I spun to the door and lunged for the mace I kept in my center desk drawer.

But Max strolled in.

Relief tingled through my body and I clutched my hand over my heart. “Max, you scared the hell out of me! I thought a maniac had stuck around after I’d locked up.”

“My apologies, Ms. Jennings.” His ultra-blue eyes looked me up and down as he spoke.

My heart kicked up a few more notches, but fear had nothing to do with it this time. Damn he looked as sexy as ever. Tanned, muscular and topping six foot, the sight of my boss was enough to make my libido perk up and take notice.

The stimulating tingle between my legs morphed into a high-powered shock, as if an electric cable just made contact with my clit. Yeah, not even the wonderful vibrations of my Jack Rabbit would be able to ease this ache.

I glanced at the wall clock behind Max and wrenched in a deep breath. Four more hours to release. Only four more

Whoa. A man I didn’t recognize followed Max into the room and my mouth hinged open.

He could easily be Max’s “evil twin”. Where my boss could pass as a Matthew McConaughey lookalike, the other man had dark and dangerous inked all over his body. Literally. Was even one inch of his skin tat-free?

Judging by the tattoo sleeves covering both arms from his wrists and eventually disappearing beneath his black t-shirt, probably not. I tried to get my eyes to focus on the design, but shock kept them from cooperating. I couldn’t tell if the mass was supposed to be some sort of recognizable design or a haphazard mess.

Raven-black hair swept away from his face and was tied at his nape, accentuating the richest chocolate-brown eyes I’d ever seen. A simple diamond stud decorated his left ear, and a day or two worth of stubble covered his cheeks, giving him a rugged bad-boy look.

Normally bad boys didn’t set my libido afire, but on him, the look conjured image after image of him throwing me over his shoulder and carrying me off to his fuck-pad in the sky.

Max motioned to his companion. “Ms. Jennings, this is Garrett Lanyon. He’s an old friend from Britain. He’s also one of the designers competing to design for our new Risqué line.”

Pierced tattoo-man was a lingerie designer? No fucking way.

Garrett held his hand toward me and I grasped it in a firm handshake. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

“Oh, the pleasure is all mine, love.” Garrett’s voice resonated much lower than Max’s, with a thicker accent too. Then again Max had lived in the States for almost fifteen years, so naturally his accent had been Americanized.

I released Garrett’s hand—he didn’t release mine. On the contrary, he tugged me closer, kissed the inside of my wrist, the middle of my lower arm. His lips were firm, possessive—as was his grip.

I should have pulled back, but his eyes entranced me. Goose bumps chased across my skin and my nipples hardened beneath my lacey outfit. What would his lips feel like against my breasts? My labia? My clit?

Excitement flooded my pussy and I clenched my legs together, as if I could control the moisture seeping from between my thighs.

Garrett grinned.“Max said you were stunning, Ms. Jennings, but he didn’t say you were this stunning.”

Wait? What? Max said I was stunning?

I glanced at my boss. He stood with his hands fisted on his hips, his kissable lips pressed into a tight line. Jealously perhaps? The thought was an aphrodisiac. Max jealous of another man touching me? That scenario would definitely go on my Max Fantasy List.

“Garrett,” Max said, stepping between us, “we need to start this meeting. Ms. Jennings has no doubt had a long day, and I’d hate to keep her any longer than we need to.”

Any longer than we need to?

Oh no, not again…

“Look, Mr. Penn, I’m sorry but I can’t stay late tonight. I have plans. I was about to leave when you—”

“You’ll have to cancel. I need you here for this purchasing meeting.”

And just like that, an “I want to fuck Max” moment exploded into an “I’m gonna strangle the bastard” moment.

I glanced at the wall clock again. Forty-five minutes until my date. “Purchasing new lines is your department. Why do you need me—”

“Garrett has brought some sample pieces for me to evaluate, but our model cancelled at the last moment.”

I shook my head. I knew where this was going. “I’m not a model, Max. You’ll have to reschedule—”

“Unacceptable. Garrett is only in Dallas for the evening. He has to be on a plane for L.A. first thing in the morning.”


Garrett drew a fingertip down my arm. “You’ve got a better body for lingerie than most of the women I’ve worked with, my dear.”


Max hooked his index finger under my chin and drew my gaze back to him. “Make no mistake, Bree. This isn’t a request. Either change or we’ll strip you down and dress you ourselves.”


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