Sex for Beginners Box Set: Watch and Learn\In a Bind\No Peeking... Read online

  Sex for Beginners Box Set

  Watch and Learn

  In a Bind

  No Peeking...

  Stephanie Bond

  Sex for Beginners

  Introducing a temptingly sensual trilogy from New York Times bestselling author Stephanie Bond! In SEX FOR BEGINNERS, three women get a sexy wake-up call long after taking a Sexual Psyche class in college. Each has received a letter she wrote to herself ten years ago…and within each letter is her deepest fantasies. The letter reminds Gemma Jacobs, who is reeling from a recent divorce, that she has a favorite sexual vice. She likes to be watched. Lucky for her, her sexy new neighbor, Chev Martinez, is totally enjoying the show! Zoe Smythe, an international flight attendant, has never experienced bondage…and she very much wants to. On a flight to Australia, yummy passenger Colin Cannon is willing to indulge Zoe's every whim. But is mind-blowing sex enough for Zoe to turn her entire life upside down? Violet Summerlin has her own concierge business and is a self-professed workaholic. Then she’s invited on a working holiday by millionaire client Dominick Burns. The man seems to know just how to please her. Every slow stroke, every breath-stealing adventure, takes her to new heights of sexual ecstasy. But mixing business and pleasure can be a dicey combination. Especially when Violet discovers Dominick's been hiding something from her... Read Watch and Learn, In a Bind and No Peeking…, and unleash your own hidden fantasies.

  Table of Contents

  Watch and Learn

  By Stephanie Bond

  In a Bind

  By Stephanie Bond

  No Peeking...

  By Stephanie Bond

  Three women. Three fantasies.

  Years ago Gemma, Zoe and Violet all took the same

  college sex-ed class, one they laughingly referred to as

  Sex for Beginners. It was an easy credit—not something

  they’d ever need in real life. Or so they thought…

  Their professor had them each write a letter, outlining

  their most private, most outrageous sexual fantasies.

  They never dreamed their letters would be returned

  to them when they least expected it. Or that their own

  words would change their lives forever…

  Don’t miss Stephanie Bond’s newest miniseries:

  Sex for Beginners

  WATCH AND LEARN

  (October 2008)

  IN A BIND

  (November 2008)

  NO PEEKING…

  (December 2008)

  Sex for Beginners

  What you don’t know…might turn you on!

  Dear Reader,

  Have you ever run across an old childhood diary or a note you wrote in high school or college? It’s fun and sometimes revealing to see what you were thinking when you were younger, what things were important to you.

  The seniors at Women’s Covington College who took the Sexual Psyche class (dubbed by the students as “Sex for Beginners”) were given an assignment to write down their innermost sexual fantasies in the form of a letter to themselves. Their letter was to be cataloged with a code for anonymity and remain sealed for ten years, then mailed to them.

  When Gemma White’s letter arrives, she’s just been blindsided by a divorce and is trying to pick up the pieces. The naughty words she wrote long ago stir a dormant desire and conjure up the image of Chev Martinez, the hunky carpenter who bought the fixer-upper next door to refurbish and sell. Exploring her fantasies with Chev helps Gemma reclaim her independence…but she hadn’t planned on falling for the sexy transient!

  I hope you enjoy Watch and Learn, the first book in the SEX FOR BEGINNERS trilogy. Don’t forget to tell your friends about the wonderful stories you find between the pages of Harlequin novels. Visit me at www.stephaniebond.com.

  Much love and laughter,

  Stephanie Bond

  STEPHANIE BOND

  Watch and Learn

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Stephanie Bond’s biggest heartache is that the beloved aunt who introduced her to Harlequin novels when she was a teenager passed away just before Stephanie’s first Harlequin novel was released in 1997. Since that time, Stephanie has written more than forty romance and mystery novels, and doesn’t plan on slowing down anytime soon, doing what she considers to be her “dream job.” Stephanie lives in midtown Atlanta with her architect/artist husband.

  Books by Stephanie Bond

  HARLEQUIN BLAZE

  2—TWO SEXY!

  169—MY FAVORITE MISTAKE

  282—JUST DARE ME…

  338—SHE DID A BAD, BAD THING

  MIRA BOOKS

  BODY MOVERS

  BODY MOVERS: 2 BODIES FOR THE PRICE OF 1

  BODY MOVERS: 3 MEN AND A BODY

  HARLEQUIN TEMPTATION

  685—MANHUNTING IN MISSISSIPPI

  718—CLUB CUPID

  751—ABOUT LAST NIGHT…

  769—IT TAKES A REBEL

  787—TOO HOT TO SLEEP

  805—SEEKING SINGLE MALE

  964—COVER ME

  This book is dedicated to all the people

  at Harlequin behind the scenes, who work

  so hard to bring so many great books to readers

  all over the world.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  1

  GEMMA WHITE LOVED to make love in the morning. When the sheets were warm from lazy limbs, when muscles were rested and revived, when the day was yet a possibility. Morning lovemaking was an act reserved for the lucky few—new lovers who ignored the impulse to sneak out in the middle of the night, live-in lovers who still enjoyed waking up together, and married lovers wise enough to take advantage of a time when both partners’ bodies were primed for passion.

  Gemma smiled and rolled over, sliding a loving hand toward Jason’s side of the bed. But when her fingers encountered cold emptiness, her eyes flew open and reality descended with a crash.

  Jason was gone.

  The desire that had pooled in her belly ebbed as sadness, temporarily banished by the cleansing arm of sleep, swamped her chest. The humiliation and shock of his departure hadn’t lessoned over the past few weeks and, if anything, had become more embedded in her heart, like sets of bicycle tracks through fresh mud that had dried into an ugly, permanent cast.

  Would mornings ever feel right again?

  The wail of the phone pierced the air. She closed her eyes, cursing the person on the other end for intruding on her moment of misery. After four teeth-rattling rings, the phone fell silent…then started up again. Resigned, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and reached for the handset.

  “Hello?” she murmured into the mouthpiece.

  “Are you up?” her best friend Sue demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Literally out of bed and walking around?”

  Gemma pushed to her feet. “Absolutely.”

  “What’s on the agenda today?”

  “Um…” Gemma turned on a light and glanced around the cluttered bedroom. Dirty clothes occupied every surface. The floor was littered with at least two boxes of tissues crumpled into balls. “I thought I might…clean.”

  “Good. You want everything to look great in case you have company.”

  “Are you coming to Tampa?” Gemma asked, panicked. She wasn’t ready to deal with the full frontal assault of Sue’s personality. Her friend would roll into town from Tallahassee like a tank, armed with endless pep talks. But Gemma was too raw, too exposed, to deal with her failed marriage so matter-of-factly, over cups of frothy coffee and shoe shopping. She needed time to reorient herself.

  “I can’t get away from work right now,” Sue said. “I meant in case Jason stops by.”

  Gemma tightened her grip on the phone. “Have you seen him? Is he coming here?”

  “No, I haven’t seen him. But in case he does drop by, you and the house need to look your best.”

  As if the divorce hadn’t fazed Gemma. It was, after all, antifeminist to behave as if her husband’s desertion had devastated her. Where was her pride?

  “Have you told your parents yet?”

  “No.”

  “What are you waiting for?”

  “The divorce isn’t final…yet.”

  “Gemma, you’re stalling.”

  “It will break their hearts—Jason is like a son to them.”

  “Considering Jason’s position in the governor’s office, it’s bound to hit the local papers soon. Is that how you want them to find out?”

  “No.” But neither did she want her mother pecking her to death with worry. “I’ll tell them…soon.”

  “Did you find a job?”

  Another dilemma. Unemployment was not so unusual for the wife of the state attorney general, but not so realistic for a divorcée with no alimony. “Not yet,” Gemma admitted.

  A noise outside drew her to the picture window overlooking the side yard. She nudged aside the filmy white curtain and looked down into the overgrown lawn of the empty house next door. A tall man with shiny dark hair was using a mallet to dislodge a faded For Sale sign that had been posted on the lawn for all of the two years that she and Jason had lived here.

  “Have you even looked for a job?” Sue prodded.

  “I will…today.”

  “Okay.” Sue’s disbelieving response vibrated over the line. “Gemma, you have to pull yourself together.”

  “I know, and I will. I just need some time to absorb my new reality.” She pushed hair out of her eyes. From his tool belt, she gathered the stranger was a workman, hired, no doubt, by the new owner to fix up the place. She felt a spurt of relief for the sagging Spanish house whose exotic lines she’d always admired. But when the man lifted his dark gaze to her second-floor window, she dropped the curtain and stepped back, her face stinging.

  The man had probably thought her house was empty. How many rubber-banded newspapers were piled on the front porch? Had weeds overtaken the brilliant birds-of-paradise and ginger flowers in the planting beds? Tending to the exotic plants that thrived in the lush Florida humidity had always been her favorite pastime. But since the final court appearance last week, she’d found it unnecessary to move beyond the front door.

  “I’m sure any of the nonprofit agencies that you’ve helped to raise money for would be happy to hire you in some capacity.”

  “Probably. But I don’t want to take advantage of my relationship with Jason.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with using his name to get the job. You’ll prove yourself once you get there.”

  Gemma understood the practicality of her friend’s advice, but something inside her revolted at the idea of using Jason’s connections. “I don’t want to be in a position where I’d have to feel grateful to Jason, or be around people who might expect me to ask him for favors.”

  “I have some business contacts in Tampa. I could make some calls,” Sue offered cheerfully.

  Right—Sue’s business associates would be clamoring to hire a thirty-two-year-old with an unused degree in art history. She’d save herself and her lobbyist friend the embarrassment of asking. “Thanks anyway. I’ll find something on my own.”

  “Okay,” Sue said warily. “Have a good day. I’ll call you later.”

  Gemma returned the receiver with a sigh. She had no right to be irritated with her friend. Sue was only trying to help in a situation that had rocked both of them to the core. Sue felt betrayed by Jason, too. She had introduced Gemma and Jason when the girls were seniors at Covington Women’s College in Jacksonville and Jason was in law school at the University of Florida in nearby Gainesville. Sue had preened as her two friends had dated, fallen in love, graduated, married and evolved into an influential political couple.

  I introduced them, she’d gushed to onlookers as camera bulbs flashed at their lavish wedding and over the years at every political appointment and election leading up to Jason being sworn in as state attorney general. When Gemma had called her, blubbering about a divorce, Sue hadn’t believed her at first. Like Gemma, she couldn’t conceive of Jason turning his back on their ten-year marriage with no warning and no remorse, as if it were simply one of the hundreds of decisions he had to make daily.

  If there were fifty ways to leave your lover, he had surely chosen one of the most cruel. He’d asked Gemma to pack a suitcase for him for a last-minute trip and bring it by his office. Then after ensuring she had packed his favorite ties and shoes, he’d turned to her and said, “This isn’t working for me anymore. I want a divorce.”

  Gemma remembered laughing at the comment. Jason had always exhibited a quirky sense of humor. But he’d leveled his pale blue eyes on her with an expression that she’d since realized was pity. “I’m moving to Tallahassee alone, Gemma. It’s over.”

  It’s over. As if he was referring to a television show or a song that had run its course.

  A banging sound next door jarred her from her circular thoughts. Gemma wiped at the perspiration on her neck, realizing suddenly that she was sticky all over, that the air in the room was stifling. A check of the thermostat revealed that yet something else had gone wrong when she wasn’t looking. She’d have to call a repair service.

  She went from room to room on the top floor to open windows, releasing heat that had risen in the house. The bedroom that Jason had turned into his office looked as if it had been violated, stripped of furniture and decorated with cobwebs in strange places. From the walls sprang naked cables that had once provided power to fuel his busy life.

  It was exactly the way she felt. Unplugged and unwanted.

  When she returned to her bedroom to slide open the side window, she chanced a glance at the house next door, startled when the peeling shutters on the round window twenty feet across from hers were thrown open and the dark-haired man she’d seen earlier appeared. She distantly registered the fact that she was wearing only a thin tank top and no bra, but she was rooted to the hardwood floor when his gaze landed on her. He inclined his head in a polite nod.

  Gemma managed a shaky smile, but he was already gone, like the breeze.

  Feeling sideswiped, her smile dissolved into an embarrassed little frown. A glance up at the sky had her shielding her eyes in mild surprise. In contradiction to the gloom hovering over her inside, it was a beautiful early spring day outside. The sun was everywhere.

  She’d thought she’d be living in Tallahassee by now, settling into a new home close to Jason’s new office, socializing in the governor’s circle and generally being the helpmate that she’d learned to be…looking good, speaking well.

  Being ignored.

  The thought slid into her mind unbidden, and instantly she resisted it. She had been an integral part of Jason’s life, had helped him achieve his dreams—their dreams. She had been relevant. Perhaps Jason had fallen out of love with her, but he hadn’t ignored her.

  Otherwise, how could she have been happy?

  Frowning, Gemma turned away from the window and padded downstairs in search of something cool to drink. The kitche n was dark and hummed with electric white noise as the refrigerator labored to stay cool. The pungent smell of overripe fruit hung in the air. From a wire basket, Gemma picked a pear to munch on, then rummaged in the fridge, past Jason’s Red Bulls, for a bottle of tea.

  While she drank and waited for the caffeine to kick in, Gemma mentally sifted through the things that had unraveled, things she needed to tend to. Sue was right about one thing—she had to find a job. She was more fortunate than most divorcées in the sense that in lieu of alimony Jason had paid off the house and her car, and left her with a small savings account. But she didn’t want to squander what money she had, and the house and car wouldn’t run on their own.

  Besides, a job would help her to…rebuild. Reclaim. Renew. Her future could be waiting for her in the Help Wanted ads.

  She pulled on shorts and a T-shirt, and swept her hair back into a ponytail. Then she unlocked the front door and walked barefoot out onto the covered porch. The light gray painted wood planks were gritty beneath the soles of her feet, the two chairs sitting next to a small table full of leaves and yard debris. Scooping up the rolled newspapers, she turned and tossed them inside. Then she surveyed the weedy, neglected yard that would have to wait until she addressed other items on her mounting to-do list.

  How quickly things could go from neat and orderly to utterly out of control.

  She walked to the mailbox and, at the curb, turned to take in the house next door. The faded yellow, two-story stucco structure with the red tiled roof and wrought-iron details was one of the last houses in the older, eclectic neighborhood to be rescued. She thought she remembered hearing that the house had been tied up in court, something to do with probate. If properly restored, it would be glorious, she decided, much more interesting than the sturdy but standard home that she and Jason had settled into.