Have you ever heard rumors of ERMAGERD sex in unusual or oddly cliché places and wondered if it could POSSIBLY be that great? I mean, how do these people not end up in the emergency room? (Spoiler: I’m pretty sure some do, LOL.) In honor of Jagger’s and Kennedy’s near miss (or maybe not) with the Mile High Club in The Millionaire’s Gamble, here’s a look at some of the most popular places for “wild” sexual encounters…and why they actually suck.
- The Beach. Seriously, is anything more romantic than the surf tumbling around you, your sexual rhythm at one with the sun, surf, and tide? Maybe not in theory but OMG HAVE YOU ACTUALLY TRIED THIS? First, sand is abrasive, and abrasion is no way to kick off sex. Second, there’s almost zero chance you won’t drown. Anyone who has spent more than ten minutes by the ocean has probably noticed the amount of water that churns from crested surf is inconsistent at best. Sure, there will be a couple of waves that delightfully tickle the naughty bits, but then one will come along that will want you dead. A six-inch surge of water driven straight up your nostrils will suck if you’re on the bottom, but it’s not so great on top, either. Mainly because when you start laughing at your drowning partner, he or she will not be amused. (You can file that under Mood Killers.)
- First of all, the lavatories are notoriously disgusting. But let’s pretend you found a clean one without questionable wet spots on the floor or dubious streaks anywhere else. We still have two problems. One, no matter how clean it looks, it’s not. Two, you’re fornicating in the same canned air where countless people have taken care of business. Not exactly a venue for heavy breathing. And if you pull this encounter off elsewhere in the plane, remember it’s probably not much cleaner. That said, if you manage to rock it out in first class, carry on. *fist bump*
- Pastures, Meadows, Fields of Wildflowers. Just, no. It’s pretty and romantic on Instagram, yes, but have you ever actually rolled around in a field? Grass is itchy. Leaves are itchy. Insects bite and make you itchy. EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS IS ITCHY. If you don’t have a pretty, faded old quilt and a pop up tent to keep the bugs away, then forget it. (I mean a real pop up tent. Not that thing happening in his pants.)
- On Horseback. Are you freaking kidding me? There’s only one way to have an orgasm on the back of a horse, and that’s riding solo if the saddle rubs you the right way. Or maybe if the two of you can get comfy on one of those coin-operated machines or a merry-go-round, but since those are usually located in areas frequented by children, I don’t recommend it. I mean, if you can have delightful sex on the back of a thousand-pound animal who is rightfully growing more irritated with you by the moment, then you’re kind of a jerk (seriously, that poor horse is going to have back trouble) and also kind of awesome, because frankly, I’d be too worried about being thrown to my death to holler YEE HAW. (Also, that might make the horse move.)
- A Car. Possible, yes. Comfortable, not even. I have a massive 9-passenger vehicle that has countless seat configurations, and literally nothing looks good. Fold the seats down and you’re on hard, itchy carpet. Pop them up and there are built-in butt-cradling cushion contours, in between which there are seat belt thingies digging into one’s back and spleen. Sitting position…okay, but someone is going to snap a neck vertebra when they hit the ceiling. Unless there just happens to be a mattress in the back of your van or pickup, then forget it. (Also, why is there a mattress in the back of your van or pickup, ya freak?)
Now that I’ve ruined your next sexual misdemeanor (pffft…who are we kidding—you’ve already gotten one foot out the door, haven’t you?), may I instead suggest a non-life- or limb threatening romance? Check out The Millionaire’s Gamble and let me know if that incident on the airplane was enough for the Mile High Club. (No, really, I can’t decide. Also, it was a private jet without a toilet in sight, so those of you who were paying attention can stop pointing at #2. No pun intended.)
Editor’s note: Did you know her latest book, Dangerous Illusions is out right now? Go get it!
Wealth has a price. Everyone wants something from you. For one woman, that something was my DNA. One minute, she was kissing me like we were going to strip it down and go at it. And the next, she was ripping out my hair for a paternity test—and threatening to torpedo my latest deal. I don’t play these kind of games. And that damnably sexy woman with the alluring eyes and mistaken agenda is about to learn that the hard way…
Millionaire scion Jagger Hamilton didn’t father Kennedy Price’s nephew. That doesn’t mean he can’t use the situation to his advantage. She wants him to take a paternity test. He wants her in his bed.
She’s blackmailing him, and she’s playing dirty. He could try to use the famous Hamilton charm to turn her into a powerful ally…But she makes him feel…Way. Too. Much.
Kennedy Price isn’t asking much. Just for the powerful, sinfully hot, and notorious playboy to be a decent human being. But he’s used to using that filthy, sensual mouth for getting what he wants.
And he wants her.
She’s determined not to fall for him. But there’s no avoiding his charisma, or his bed, where she threatens to lose more than the standoff between them. She just might lose her heart.
About Sarah Ballance
Sarah and her husband of what he calls “many long, long years” live on the mid-Atlantic coast with their six young children, all of whom are perfectly adorable when they’re asleep. She never dreamed of becoming an author, but as a homeschooling mom, she often jokes she writes fiction because if she wants anyone to listen to her, she has to make them up. As it turns out, her characters aren’t much better than the kids, but nevertheless, you’ll find her writing sexy contemporary romance for Entangled Publishing until they throw her out.