Dirty Interludes

What does a porn actor and a classical musician have in common? Nothing but garden gnomes.

Bridget has a love-hate relationship with her neighbor.  Max might be good to look at, but he has the manners of a goat.  Trying to keep her seat as principal cellist, Bridget has reached the breaking point over his playboy antics.

Max didn’t expect to be drawn into a backyard battle with his uptight neighbor.  He certainly didn’t expect to almost be clocked by a garden gnome. But that’s what happened.  Locking horns with his delectable neighbor is fast becoming the highlight of his days, but he can’t hope for anything more.  After all, what would a classical musician want with a porn actor?

Caught between a growing attraction for Bridget and his career, Max must decide how much he is willing to risk when the prize could easily slip through his fingers.

Coming Soon To Ellora’s Cave

Unedited Excerpt:

The wind whipped at her hair as she grumbled out all the things she would do to her neighbor if she could get away with it. Crossing over the dewy grass, she stomped up his steps and banged on the door. A smirk pulled at her lips. How’d he like having his night “activity” disrupted?

She knocked on the door until her knuckles hurt and her glee waned. Didn’t he hear her pounding on his door? A high-pitched wail assaulted her eardrums. Probably not. The screamer must be drowning her out. She stalked down the steps and glared at the window that most likely was his room. From where she stood she heard the muffled groans of a man and woman getting it on and it irked her that he was having the time of his life while she was sleep deprived and miserable.

Anger soared higher and she hurried back to her lawn, snatched up a garden gnome and flung it as hard as she could at the window. Glass shattered and the screamer screamed, this time with fear. As one should.

“What the hell?”

Bridget couldn’t help but laugh at the sound of his indignation. Served him right. Thanking herself for a job well done she started back to her house to retrieve another garden ornament. Last time she’d thrown P. Diddy Gnomes, and she liked that one. This time she’d have to choose one she could do without. Finding a chipped little elf perched on a toadstool, she picked it up.

“Hey!”

She stiffened then turned at the sound of his voice. He stalked toward her dressed in nothing but boxer briefs. Her gaze snapped upward and focused on his enraged features. Not his ripped body or the dragon tattoo on his chest.

A sound of distress burst from her mouth and she dropped her garden statuette and ran for the safety of her house, sheet clutched in one hand. Bridget gasped as the sheet resisted her escape and she twisted around to find the corner of it clutched in his hand. She tugged and he tugged back, a grim smile on his face.

“Let go!”

A push and pull ensued, but she was no match for him as she slipped out of her sheet and fell onto the ground. Moisture immediately soaked through her silk nightdress and she popped back up, trying to ignore the chill air that brushed against her backside.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he snarled.

Bridget folded her arms and stood her ground. Cow her, he would not. “Trying to sleep.”

Black brows shot up. “By taking out my window? Lady, that’s willful damage of property.”

“And you and that…that woman up there is disturbing the peace. It’s noise pollution.”

He threw her a queer look, green eyes blazing with outrage. “Noise pollution? Lady you have some nerve. What do you call playing that damn instrument of yours every waking moment?”

“It’s music, not that cat warbling I’m putting up with. A big difference.”

“Personally, that sounded like music to my ears. Nothing like a woman and her O’s.” He eyed her shrewdly. “I bet you don’t even know what they are.”

Bridget’s mouth popped open. “I’ve had plenty of orgasms. Plenty.”

He chuckled. “Sure.”

Why was she even defending herself? He was the one in the wrong.

“I don’t have to explain anything to you. You woke me up.”

“You could’ve knocked. That’s what smart people do.”

Bridget barely muffled a screech of outrage. How in the world did she ever find this Neanderthal attractive? “What do you think I was doing for the last five minutes? If that woman would take a breath you would’ve heard me.”

“So the solution here was to smash my window?”

“Yes. It’s two-thirty in the morning and most people are sleeping, not having screaming matches all night.”

He leered. God how she hated when he did that. “Only one of us was screaming and she enjoyed every minute of it.”

“Well I didn’t.”

“Jealous, love?”

She rolled her eyes. “As if. You can play your little games whenever you want as long as it’s not here.”

He glowered then and stepped forward, crowding her. “You don’t get the right to dictate to me. I bought this house and I can do what I damn well please.”

“And I bought mine, so I’ll do as I please. I’ve had enough of your porn star antics.”

He chuckled. “Really? Have you even watched porn before?”

“Oh please, what is there to see? Oh yes, mmm. Do me, big boy,” she said mockingly.

A brow tipped up. “Even faking it you froze the tip of my dick.”

Bridget gasped. “I’m not frigid.”

“Whatever, you let me know when you find your orgasm. I could help you, but I’d be afraid I’d get frostbite for my efforts.”

“For your information, not all women scream bloody murder while—while doing it. Are you sure you were pleasuring her or was she screaming for mercy?”

“Care to find out?”

He stepped closer and she moved back, hating the way her heart raced and her skin tingled. “I’d rather not. I’m going to bed and the next time you wake me up in the middle of the night, you’ll regret it.”

With that she snatched at her sheet, twisted away and stalked back to her house. But as her hand landed on the doorknob, the man spoke.

“You’ll need more garden gnomes then.”