What?  The She-Wolf on the Twentieth Floor is the debut book of erotica author Ree L. Diehl.  And it’s the first book in a HOT new series.  AND it’s only 99¢ for a limited time.  I’m totally in!

Here’s the low-down on The She-Wolf on the Twentieth Floor:

A neglected mistress teases the wrong window washer
and gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

Randy Jackson is usually pushing a pencil, managing the family window-washing business.  When his twin’s wife goes into labor, Randy must take his place on the crew. Andy doesn’t trust anyone else with the she-wolf on the twentieth floor.

Sure enough, she starts dancing for him in a blatant invitation.  His twin might be immune to her charms, but come quitting time, he plans to make the she-wolf howl.  If he’s lucky, his friend-with-benefits will join them.

Welcome to the Unbillable Hours Series, where the best things happen off the clock.  The She-Wolf on the Twentieth Floor is an erotic romantic comedy HEA ménage and the debut novelette for Ree L. Diehl.

Erotica, written for ages 18+.

Want a sexy teaser?  Of course you do!

Her greeting for Jerry died on her lips.

She had looked up, expecting to see silver hair perfectly groomed in a hundred-dollar haircut.  Instead, she saw a thick thatch of tawny hair pulled back in a ponytail.  It was him.  Wash.  Her window washer.  The man she envisioned every time her toys came out and a session of self-gratification ensued.

He didn’t wait for an invitation.  He stepped inside, a coil of rope in his hand and clear intent on his face.  Pushing the door shut with his foot, he swept her with his gaze and eyed her speculatively.  Blue was supposed to be a cool color, but the heat in his eyes was searing.

She stepped away rather than risk getting burned.

“Just so you know,” he began, his voice as sexy as his rugged good looks, “you teased the wrong twin.  I’m Randy.”

Her gaze dropped to the impressive package shaping the front of his pants.  “So I see.”

“Well,” he drawled, “that, too.  I can’t say it was a self-fulfilling prophecy, but it turns out, I’m aptly named.  My brother Andy is currently at the hospital, helping his wife breathe through contractions.  I’m usually pushing pencils, but he didn’t trust any of our crew with you.  It just goes to show how little he knows about me, for all that we’re twins.”

He sauntered to where she stood, smelling of sweat and sun and pure, male lust.

She wet her lips.

Randy tapped the rope against his thigh.  Desire made his nostrils flare.  He breathed deeply, taking in her scent.  “Unless you want your neighbors across the way to watch me fuck you against that pristine window, you need to either show me the door or lock it and lead the way to your bedroom.  By way of full disclosure, you can expect things to start with a spanking.”

Just that fast, her pussy was gushing.

“Well,” she breathed, “when you put it that way….”

Brushing past him, Lauren flipped the lock, reset the alarm, and headed for her bedroom.  Hers, not Jerry’s.  Booted footsteps followed.

Randy tossed the rope on her pillows and sat on the end of the bed.  Meeting her gaze, he patted his thigh.  “Lose the clothes and assume the position, sweetheart.  Head to my left, ass to my right.”

Lauren felt anticipation course through her veins and pool in her belly, swelling her pussy lips and making her even wetter.

“Yes, Sir.”

Light sparked in his appreciative gaze.  “Are you going to be a good girl for me?” he asked.

“Maybe,” she hedged.  “I don’t know that one spanking will be enough.  I may need more.  I’ve been a bad girl.  A very, very bad girl.  Fucking a married man.  Teasing a married man.  About to let a total stranger fuck me.”

She dropped her gaze to his naked ring finger.  “Are you married?”

He cocked his head.  “Does it matter?”

“No,” she said.  “I just like to know where I stand.”

“I’m more interested in where you’re going to kneel when you suck my cock.  But I digress.  Spanking first.  I won’t tell you again.  Strip—what’s your name?”

“Lauren.”

“Like Bacall?”

She shook her head and reached for the hem of her shirt.  “Ralph.  My mother swore that she couldn’t resist a man who wore Polo.  One of them played it.  She would never tell me his name, but I heard that he could ride like nobody’s business.”

Whew!  Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

Click HERE to get your copy of
The She-Wolf on the Twentieth Floor
for just 99¢!