Read Online Sugar by Hope Tarr, Jenna Jameson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Hope Tarr, Jenna Jameson
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fit without crowding. His sister, Chloe, the feng shui enthusiast, swore he was blocking all kinds of positive chi with his clutter. He didn’t know about that, but suddenly he wanted the boxes gone, done, out of there. Juiced to get going, he grabbed a pair of scissors from a kitchen drawer and started in.
Hacking through cardboard and packing tape, he felt as though he were unearthing the contents of a time capsule. So that was where his blue cashmere cardigan was, good to know. He came across the medal case holding his Silver Star and tossed it back inside. “For Gallantry in Action.” Ha! Running through an explosion he should have seen coming to salvage what was left of his team had been a case of too little, too late. The Army might have honored him with a medal, but minus both legs, Joe had spat in his face. Cole hadn’t blamed him, not then and certainly not now.
His thoughts circled back to Sarah. Since Iraq whatever allure a woman held for him dissipated once he’d had her, but with her their night together had only whetted his appetite for more—much more. Thinking of all the things he still wanted to do with her, he felt himself firming yet again—and seriously considering seeing her a second time.
Hours flew by. He looked up and realized he’d winnowed the towers down to a final few boxes. The next to last held his old porn DVDs. God, he’d all but forgotten he had this stuff. Like the cigarettes, the adult films had gotten him and his buddies through the tedium and stress of being bunkered. Though he didn’t need the movies now, he also wasn’t sure what to do with them. It’s not like he could drop them off at the Salvation Army or Goodwill. Should he toss them down the trash chute or maybe leave out the box with a note, Free to Good Home? For old time’s sake, he shuffled through the box covers, thinking maybe he’d hold onto a few of his favorites as mementos—or a backup plan in case the city saw a mass exodus of cocktail hostesses and bottle girls. All his videos starred the actress known as Sugar. Once he’d seen his first film of hers, there was no need to explore further. He’d been hooked. Whether playing the innocent ingénue or the worldly whip-cracking dominatrix, she could sell it like no other porn diva. He took out one of his favorites, Whipped and Creamed . The DVD case pictured a whip-wielding Sugar, her gorgeous body flanked in skimpy black-leather bondage wear, her blond hair flowing about her slender shoulders, her gaze intense as she appeared poised to crack the flogger over a pair of bare male buttocks. But as always, it was her face that got him—the curve of her cheek, the lushness of her lips, and the intensity glowing from her emerald-colored eyes, ever so slightly upswept at the corners.
Emerald-colored eyes just like the ones he’d spent most of that morning gazing into!
Holding the DVD aloft, it hit him. No wonder Sarah had seemed so familiar. Either she was Sugar, the internationally famous porn star, or her doppelganger. The decade in LA, her paranoia about his cell phone, and, weirdest of all, her freezing up instead of calling 911, all pointed to the former. She hadn’t wanted to report the mugging, because involving the police would almost certainly have meant leaking her presence in New York to the press.
Once he got over the shock, he realized he’d just struck the equivalent of sexual pay dirt. Who better to explore his kinky fantasies with than a porn star? Unlike the other women he’d been with since his homecoming, Sarah wasn’t going to cling. She wasn’t going to pressure him to make promises. She wasn’t going to beg and plead, threaten and cajole him into committing to a future, because she didn’t want a relationship any more than he did.
Resting back on his heels, Cole decided. He wasn’t yet done with Sarah—Sugar—not nearly. Now that he knew the previous night was only a taste of the sexual buffet to be had, he was determined to
Hacking through cardboard and packing tape, he felt as though he were unearthing the contents of a time capsule. So that was where his blue cashmere cardigan was, good to know. He came across the medal case holding his Silver Star and tossed it back inside. “For Gallantry in Action.” Ha! Running through an explosion he should have seen coming to salvage what was left of his team had been a case of too little, too late. The Army might have honored him with a medal, but minus both legs, Joe had spat in his face. Cole hadn’t blamed him, not then and certainly not now.
His thoughts circled back to Sarah. Since Iraq whatever allure a woman held for him dissipated once he’d had her, but with her their night together had only whetted his appetite for more—much more. Thinking of all the things he still wanted to do with her, he felt himself firming yet again—and seriously considering seeing her a second time.
Hours flew by. He looked up and realized he’d winnowed the towers down to a final few boxes. The next to last held his old porn DVDs. God, he’d all but forgotten he had this stuff. Like the cigarettes, the adult films had gotten him and his buddies through the tedium and stress of being bunkered. Though he didn’t need the movies now, he also wasn’t sure what to do with them. It’s not like he could drop them off at the Salvation Army or Goodwill. Should he toss them down the trash chute or maybe leave out the box with a note, Free to Good Home? For old time’s sake, he shuffled through the box covers, thinking maybe he’d hold onto a few of his favorites as mementos—or a backup plan in case the city saw a mass exodus of cocktail hostesses and bottle girls. All his videos starred the actress known as Sugar. Once he’d seen his first film of hers, there was no need to explore further. He’d been hooked. Whether playing the innocent ingénue or the worldly whip-cracking dominatrix, she could sell it like no other porn diva. He took out one of his favorites, Whipped and Creamed . The DVD case pictured a whip-wielding Sugar, her gorgeous body flanked in skimpy black-leather bondage wear, her blond hair flowing about her slender shoulders, her gaze intense as she appeared poised to crack the flogger over a pair of bare male buttocks. But as always, it was her face that got him—the curve of her cheek, the lushness of her lips, and the intensity glowing from her emerald-colored eyes, ever so slightly upswept at the corners.
Emerald-colored eyes just like the ones he’d spent most of that morning gazing into!
Holding the DVD aloft, it hit him. No wonder Sarah had seemed so familiar. Either she was Sugar, the internationally famous porn star, or her doppelganger. The decade in LA, her paranoia about his cell phone, and, weirdest of all, her freezing up instead of calling 911, all pointed to the former. She hadn’t wanted to report the mugging, because involving the police would almost certainly have meant leaking her presence in New York to the press.
Once he got over the shock, he realized he’d just struck the equivalent of sexual pay dirt. Who better to explore his kinky fantasies with than a porn star? Unlike the other women he’d been with since his homecoming, Sarah wasn’t going to cling. She wasn’t going to pressure him to make promises. She wasn’t going to beg and plead, threaten and cajole him into committing to a future, because she didn’t want a relationship any more than he did.
Resting back on his heels, Cole decided. He wasn’t yet done with Sarah—Sugar—not nearly. Now that he knew the previous night was only a taste of the sexual buffet to be had, he was determined to
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