Bøger af Andrea L. Smith

Temptation knocks on Anya Sterling's door. The loyal, supportive wife is ripe to succumb. Her vow to remain at her husband's side weakens due to his neglect. Time to take matters into her own hands. A short affair might just be what she needs. Dean is out for revenge. He meets Anya, who seems to be the perfect pawn for his plan. But, Anya's beauty has him wondering if he could fall in love again.>Will Dean's relentless seduction cause Anya to break her vow and possibly ruin her life?EXCERPT FROM CHAPTER ONEMy lover's hand caressed my inner thigh, sending shivers up my spine. Parting my legs, I raised my hips, giving him a full view of my throbbing sex. His eyes burned, and he slid two fingers inside, moaning against my moist, tight heat. A rush of pleasure flooded my core and my hips rolled in response. His fingers worked through the sensitive folds of my hot flesh, gliding in and out. I moaned softly, arrested by passion. The pad of his thumb massaged my clit, increasing the intensity, driving me to the edge. "God..." Removing his fingers, he parted my flesh, dipping his head. My hips jerked at the first lash of his thick, long tongue. It lapped my cunt, licking ferociously, summoning my climax. He sucked on my clit, his thick lips like a vacuum. As my orgasm landed, I fucked his face shamelessly, moaning with wild abandon.As the orgasmic feeling subsided, my lover raised his head. "Hallelujah!" He exclaimed."Huh?""God be praised!" He shook my shoulder violently.I jerked awake, my eyes coming into focus. I'd fallen asleep in church, and my colleague shook my shoulder to wake me. Rubbing my eyes, I turned my attention to the preacher on the pulpit. My husband, Bruce Sterling paced back and forth, his Bible in his hand and his normally soft voice boomed from his six-foot, two-hundred-pound frame which overwhelmed the pulpit. His face and shirt dripped with sweat, and I realized since lately, my husband only perspired when he preached God's word.As the associate pastor of our non-denominational church, Bruce commits to 'feeding the flock'-his words-five days a week and twice on Sundays. I wished he was as committed to giving me pleasure. We make love on average twice per month, three times if I'm lucky, and his performance has become mediocre, at best. I've become the sole initiator of sex in our relationship. Bruce rejected my advances more times than I can count. My sexual frustration led to masturbation; I even have an eight-inch battery operated boyfriend in the bottom of my underwear drawer that has become a constant source of release. Lately, my fantasies expanded to include a steamy hunk who fucked me with a primal hunger, leaving me blissfully sated. ***That night, as I lay awake listening to my husband snore beside me I wondered, what am I doing wrong? Bruce keeps telling me I'm perfect; so, what is his problem?My best friend, Kemona constantly encourages me to get his attention, but when I ask for ideas, she cunningly smiles and shakes her head. Lately though, I've been thinking a lot about making something happen. Anything. I can't live like this anymore.

Maltese settlers in colonial Algeria had never lived in France, but as French citizens were abruptly "repatriated" there after Algerian independence in 1962. This study provides insight into race, ethnicity, and nationalism in Europe as well as cultural context for understanding political trends in contemporary France.