Sex. Love. Repeat. by Alessandra Torre
Publication Date: December 1st 2013
Genre: Erotic Romance
~Summary~
I love two men. I screw two men. I am in a relationship with them both, and they are both aware there is another. That is all they need to know, that is all I let them know. They don’t need to know a name; they don’t need to know anything but that they are not alone in my heart.
They have accepted the situation. Stewart, because his life is too busy for the sort of obligations that are required in a relationship. Paul, because he loves me too much to tell me no. And because my sexual appetite is such that one man has trouble keeping up.
So we exist, two parallel relationships, each running their own course, with no need for intersection or conflict. It works for us, for them, and for me. I don’t expect it to be a long-term situation. I know there is an expiration date on the easy perfection of our lives.
I should have paid more attention, should have looked around and noticed the woman who watched it all. She sat in the background and waited, tried to figure me out. Saw my two relationships, the love between us, and the moment that it all fell apart.
She hates me.
I don’t even know she exists.
She loves them. I love them.
And they love me.
They have accepted the situation. Stewart, because his life is too busy for the sort of obligations that are required in a relationship. Paul, because he loves me too much to tell me no. And because my sexual appetite is such that one man has trouble keeping up.
So we exist, two parallel relationships, each running their own course, with no need for intersection or conflict. It works for us, for them, and for me. I don’t expect it to be a long-term situation. I know there is an expiration date on the easy perfection of our lives.
I should have paid more attention, should have looked around and noticed the woman who watched it all. She sat in the background and waited, tried to figure me out. Saw my two relationships, the love between us, and the moment that it all fell apart.
She hates me.
I don’t even know she exists.
She loves them. I love them.
And they love me.
~Excerpt~
My men are so different, yet similar in so many ways.
Their eyes, a similar tint of blue, yet Paul’s smiles at me
with carefree abandonment and Stewart’s pierces my heart with its dark
intensity.
Their bodies. Paul’s naturally muscular, his arms developed
from hours of surfboard paddling, his abs ripped from balancing on a board, his
thighs and calves strong from jumping, balancing, and kicking through currents.
Stewart’s body, attacked like everything else in his life, with fierce
devotion, aggression worked out with miles on a treadmill, weight-lifting,
sit-ups, pull-ups, and calisthenics.
Their love. Paul loves me with unconditional warmth, his
affection public and obvious, his arms pulling me into his warmth, his mouth
littering my body with frequent kisses. Stewart loves me with a tiger’s
intensity, his need taking my breath away, his confidence in our relationship
strong enough to not be bothered by the presence of another man. He stares into
my soul as if he owns it, and shows his love with money, sex, and rare moments
of time.
Tonight is one of those rare moments. I have his attention,
his cell phone is away, and he is staring at me as if I contain everything
needed to make his world whole. I step forward, towards his seated form, the
dress hugging my form to perfection. He sits up in the chair, spreading his
knees and patting his thigh, indicating where he wants me. I sit sideways on
his thigh, my eyes held by his, his hand stealing up and running lightly along
my bare back. “You are breathtaking.” His voice gruff, he leans forward and
places a light kiss on my neck. “And you smell incredible.”
“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself.” And he does.
In a suit that no doubt costs more than my dress, he looks every bit the
successful executive that he is. Short, orderly hair. Clean-shaved chin. Those
intense eyes staring out of a strong face. “Is the car here?”
“It’s downstairs. But it can wait.” He runs a hand up my
knee, sliding the material of the cocktail dress up.
I wait, my breath becoming shallow, my concentration focused
on the path of his fingers, as they travel higher, taking their time, the
tickle of rough skin against soft flesh. He leans over, brushing a quick kiss
over my lips and then moves lower, soft kisses making the path down the line of
my jaw, whisper soft against my neck, and deepening in touch when they reach my
collarbone. His hand caresses my thigh, the brush of his thumb moving higher up
my thigh until it is just breaths from my sex. I groan, sliding my hips
forward, but his hand stops me, gripping my thigh and holding me still. “Not
yet. Let me enjoy you for a moment.”
There is the sound of approaching footsteps, and I open my
eyes to see a suited man, our driver, round the corner and stop short when we
come into view. His eyes drop respectfully and he speaks softly. “Mr. Brand,
I’ll be downstairs with the car when you are ready.”
Stewart mutters something unintelligible, the man taking the
cue and leaving, the firm pull of the door behind him leaving us alone.
Stewart’s hands push apart my legs, moving the fabric of my dress aside and
leaving me bare and open to his eyes. He looks down, examining the exposed
skin, his mouth curving into a smile. “No panties?” His eyes flick up to mine.
“They’re in my purse. I figured they would be useless until
we got to the event.”
“That,” he says softly, his fingers teasing the edge of my
lips, circling the edge of my sex in slow, tantalizing brushes, each touch
closer but not yet there, “is why I
love you. You know me so well.”
His eyes stare at me, dark pools of lust and want. While
Paul and I talk, incessantly, often, about anything and everything, important
or not, Stewart and I fuck our way through this relationship, our time often
too short for anything more than physical contact. Sex is how we connect, share
our feelings, emotions, and love. I stare back into his eyes, my eyelids
closing slightly when he slides one confident finger over the knot of my clit,
that finger effortlessly sliding down and into me, the small invasion a tease of
perfection. “Look at me,” he breathes. “I want to see your eyes.”
I reopen my eyes, my mouth parting as he cups my
sex, slipping a second finger in with the first, both of them working together,
stimulating me in their movement, his thumb staying firm on my clit, soft
pressure that moves slightly with each stroke of his fingers. He watches my
eyes, sees the moment that the fire of my need hits them, sees the crescendo
and burn of my arousal, adjusting the pace and pressure of his fingers in
accordance with my want. I feel the curl of pleasure, growing in my belly, our
eyes caught in a web of want, pulled to each other, my eyes barely noticing the
sexy pull of his mouth into a smile as my breathing increases and I thrust into
his hand. His other hand steals around my waist, sliding up my chest and
pulling on the fabric there, tugging my neckline down till a breast is exposed,
his hand gripping and tugging on it just hard enough to make me gasp.
~Giveaway~
~About The Author~
Alessandra Torre is a new author who focuses on contemporary erotica. Her first book, Blindfolded Innocence, was published in July 2012, and was an Erotica #1 Bestseller for two weeks. The sequel to Blindfolded, Masked Innocence, will be released in February 2014.
Alessandra lives in the Southern United States and is married, with one young child. She enjoys reading, spending time with her family, and playing with her dogs. Her favorite authors include Lisa Gardner, Gillian Flynn, and Jennifer Crusie.
~Interview~
Sex Love Repeat has a love
triangle, a type of story you personally hate. Was it strange writing that type
of story?
It was frustrating,
because I had no idea where I wanted the book to end. This is not a normal love
triangle, where the girl goes back and forth trying to decide which guy to
choose. There is not that aspect to the book. I don’t know how to explain it
without giving anything away, but it has a different vibe. I DID like writing a
love triangle, because it was like writing two love stories at one time. Plus,
it allowed me to include LOTS of sex.
What inspired
you to begin writing? Were you hesitant
to take that leap?
Stephen King’s book “On Writing”
was the catalyst to get me to actually put pen to paper. When I sat down to write, the characters and
plot of Blindfolded Innocence just poured out.
Six weeks later, I self-pubbed it. I had very low expectations for
Blindfolded. I loved the story, and was
attached to the characters, but I had no idea of whether the book was any
good. Given the erotic nature of the
story, I didn’t send it out to any friends or family to get feedback, so I
really ‘put it out there’ in hopes of getting some kind of feedback. That’s one
of the great things about self-publishing, you can publish something, get
feedback, and then make changes and fix issues.
Who are some of your favorite
authors and why?
I have been a
bookworm since age eight. I read a
little bit of everything. My favorite
authors include John Grisham, Kristin Hannah, Jennifer Cruisie, Gillian Flynn,
and J.D. Robb. But that list is
constantly changing and expanding. I
like any author who steps outside the norm and surprises me.
Thanks for stopping by!
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