Shipwrecked With The BBC Athlete
By Pornelope
()
About this ebook
Maggie is sure she’s going to die when her plane goes down at sea. She manages to scramble into a life raft with eleven muscular athletes. They reach a deserted tropical island safely...then face a new dilemma. One sexy woman. Eleven horny men...and their captain is built like a BBC porn star. Maggie’s life will never be the same again!
~~~~~ Excerpt ~~~~~
“Give me your blouse,” he instructed, striding energetically toward the surf.
She was halfway to obeying that command, too, when it struck home, and she skidded to a stop in the hot sand. “What?”
“Your blouse,” he said patiently. “It’s a thinner material than my polo shirt, and it has long sleeves, so it’ll work better for catching minnows for bait.”
Maggie narrowed her eyes. “You want to use my best blouse to catch fish,” she said slowly, not quite believing him.
“Minnows,” he clarified. “There are big schools of them darting around just past the first row of breakers. What else do you think we could use to catch some big fish...coconut?”
That didn’t sound very likely to succeed, but still Maggie hesitated. She hadn’t thought twice about peeling it off out there in the ocean. But now nerves were prickling just beneath her skin...because she was alone with a powerful, gorgeous man who could ravish her without thinking twice? She’d felt a lot safer when she’d been surrounded by sweaty muscular men, and how crazy was that?
Her conflicting emotions must have shown on her face, because he shot her a disgusted look. “Sex is the absolute last thing on my mind right now,” he informed her, and held out an imperious hand. “Come on, hand it over.”
Uneasily she fingered the first button. “I will get it back intact, right?”
“Yes.”
When he gestured again, she reluctantly slid it off her shoulders. His gaze never flickered, even when she shyly crossed both arms across her breasts. Saying nothing, he picked up a forked branch, tied each sleeve securely to the widespread ends, knotted the hem to form a crude windsock, and waded out into the surf. She watched in fascinated silence as he dragged her shirt through the shallow water, and came up with a dozen tiny wriggling fish. Another long scoop, and the bottom of her shirt flip-flopped liked a living creature.
“That’ll do for now,” he decided, and waded back to dump them in a shallow puddle trapped between some worn rocks. “You know how to fish?”
“I grew up on a farm,” she said with what dignity she could muster, and all but grabbed her blouse back when he untied it. “Where did you learn how to make a sieve net like that?”
Again his teeth flashed white against his ebony skin. “I’m a scout leader during the off-season. My troupe likes to go camping in the mountains a lot.”
That explained plenty. “Let me rinse out my shirt first, and then I’ll see what I can catch,” she offered, and waded out to her mid-thighs to shake tiny fish scales from the fancy stitching.
She straightened, slid her arms back in her wet sleeves, and arched her back in a spine-popping stretch...then saw the way Sebastian was staring at her. His dark slacks were soaking wet and clinging to his muscular thighs. Her heart began pounding wildly when her gaze dropped, and she saw the huge bulge of his desire rising hard and proud, straining against the fabric.
“I thought sex was the absolute last thing on your mind!” she retorted, then flushed bright red when his gaze shifted from her lush breasts to her face.
“I lied.” His voice was razor-sharp. “Why do you think I sent the others across the island?”
Instinctively she crossed both arms over her breasts again, and took a wary step back.
“Eleven men, one incredibly sexy woman,” he continued harshly. “That’s a recipe for disaster if there ever was one!”
One stunning alpha-male who was built like a rutting stallion, and one nervous woman who was...
Admit it, Maggie, she thought with a strangled gul
Pornelope
Remember the old Nancy Drew/Hardy Boys books? Everyone thought they were written by Carolyn Keene and Franklin W. Dixon...but they weren’t. Over a dozen different authors contributed ideas and used those two author names, no matter which one of them actually wrote the book.That’s who Pornelope really is: a group of close friends all collaborating on stories and sharing the same author name. Why? Because collaborating makes our stories spicier and more interesting...and brainstorming and working together is fun!You may notice some differences in writing styles or word choices, but one thing will always remain the same:Pornelope offers well-written high quality erotica that’s sure to rev your engine!
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Shipwrecked With The BBC Athlete - Pornelope
Shipwrecked With the BBC Athlete
G:\_Data\_Boruma Publishing\_Pornelope\Shipwrecked With The BBC Athlete\images\Shipwrecked inner.jpgBy Pornelope
Artwork by Moira Nelligar
Copyright 2016 Pornelope
~ All characters in this book are 18 or older. ~
~~~~~~
She’d never seen anything so wonderful in her life! Not just an island, but a lush patch of green that glowed like an emerald against the endless expanse of restless ocean. Dry land where they’d be able to find food and shelter, and build a signal fire so they could be rescued!
Maggie knew her sunburned face was reflecting the same excitement she saw in her companions’ eyes. Land! They were saved!
She still wasn’t sure exactly what had happened. No one seemed to know. They’d all been fast-asleep when their plane had suddenly lost altitude fast. She remembered gripping her armrests in a vise-grip of panic as her stomach had lurched and clenched. The oxygen in her emergency mask—she couldn’t remember pulling it on—had tasted cold and metallic.
Then somehow, miraculously, the pilots had gotten the plane’s nose up. It had been a rough landing; everyone was bruised and battered. But the plane had held together long enough for them to scramble through the darkened chaos into huge buoyant life rafts. She was pretty sure no one had been left behind.
She had no idea where the other two hundred-odd passengers were…there hadn’t been time to tie the rafts together in the nasty storm. Theirs had been washed out of sight almost immediately after she’d tumbled headfirst into it.
They’d bounced around for hours, clinging like limpets to the thick nylon guide ropes. Then they’d bounced around some more. Dawn had been bleak and gray, but the rain had tapered off and finally stopped around mid-morning.
Sunlight had been a welcome change…at first. But it had quickly become too much of a good thing. Within an hour, they’d all felt like lobsters boiling in an