Free The Fantasy Factor by Kimberly Raye Page A

insane and desperate and seriously doubtful she could survive the rest of the video much less a full twenty-four hours without sating the sexual frustration coiling inside her. She needed a man in the worst way.
    But not just any man.
    Of all the men she’d known in that short but busy bad-girl period of her life, Houston Jericho was the only one who lingered in her memory.
    He was also the only one she’d ever made a pact with, and since Sarah had always been one to finish what she started, it only stood to reason that she would still think about him. Fantasize about him. Want him.
    Not for long. Tomorrow night she would start to find her closure and then she could bury the bad girl she’d been once and for all.
    Until then…
    A woman’s soft moan slid into Sarah’s ears and prickled the hair on the nape of her neck. She watched as the couple kissed, open mouths pressed together, tongues darting in and out…
    She needed a shower, all right. A cold shower.
    She punched the Stop button on the remote and pushed to her feet. A few seconds later, she reached the bathroom. The quick turn of a knob and a blast of cool relief erupted from the showerhead. After peeling off her clothes, she stepped into the claw foot tub and pulled the curtain back into place.
    Water pelted her, running in rivulets over her heated flesh. She turned her face toward the spray and tried to clear her head. She needed to calm down and relax, otherwise she would never get any sleep.
    And she had to sleep. She had a full day tomorrow at the nursery, not to mention even more deliveries scheduled, thanks to Houston and his interference.
    His name stuck in her head and brought to mind all sorts of lustful thoughts. Of herself naked and panting and on her back, Houston between her legs, plunging into her and driving them both toward wild and crazy orgasms.
    She shook away the notion, reached for the bar of soap and concentrated on lathering her hands. The feel of wet, slick soap made her palms tingle as she swirled the bar in her hands and bubbles squeezed between her fingers. She slid the soap back into the tray and ran her soapy hands up and down her throat, over her shoulders. But she didn’t feel her own fingertips, she felt his. Trailing over her skin, circling her nipples, grasping the ripe nubs and twisting until she felt the pull of desire between her legs.
    Her hands stilled and she drew a deep, steadying breath.
    She wasn’t doing this. She’d promised herself a long time ago that she wouldn’t give in to her impulses, and she wasn’t going to start now.
    She reached for the shampoo bottle. It was tall and cool between her fingertips. Cool, as in the opposite of hot. If she could just focus on the sensation, she could forget the heat burning her up from the inside out.
    She popped the push-up lid and was about to squirt the creamy liquid into her palm when the hard, smooth plastic brushed the ripe tip of her nipple. Electricity spiraled through her body and her nerves hummed.
    She wasn’t going to do it.
    That’s what she told herself, but her hands seemed to have a mind of their own. Her fingertips slid around the bottle, circling and grasping as she rasped the edge back and forth against her nipple. The cool hardness was a stark contrast to her soft, heated skin, and sensation spiraled through her. She played with the ripe greedy nub a few more heart-pounding seconds before touching the edge to her other nipple. It sprang to life at the contact, as greedy as its twin for a little attention.
    She couldn’t help herself. It felt so good and it had been so long. The edge of the bottle slid down, following the underside of her breast, the sensitive skin of her belly. The hard coolness trailed over her belly button and lower until she reached the vee between her legs.
    Hunger spurted through her when she felt the edge of the bottle ruffle the soft curls that covered her mound. The sensation moved lower still. The hard, cool edge teased the