Jule Mcbride - The Sex Files

He rolled over in bed, his heated naked body pressing against Peggy’s back, allowing him to enter her from behind.

“You feel so good,” she whispered shakily, sighing as he drove inside.

She was wearing a Santa hat he’d picked up at the store earlier. “You’ve been naughty,” he said hoarsely, reading the message scrawled in red on the white brim.

“Maybe I need a spanking,” she teased.

Oliver eased away from her, loving how she gasped over each inch of his withdrawal. Slipping his palm downward, he gave her a love tap that drew a cry—not of pain, but of pleasure.

“Nice,” she corrected cheekily, reaching up and turning the brim to the side that said, “I’ve been nice.”

“If you’ve been nice,” he teased, “then maybe Santa will give you something special for Christmas. What do you want?”

Her breath caught and she shifted her body. “This.”

With a groan, Oliver rolled her over and entered her again with a long, deep satisfying thrust.

Merry Christmas…

Dear Reader,

Merry Christmas!

Manhattan at Christmastime has always been special. During the holidays, the city that never sleeps is charged with a giving spirit and the legendary heart for which New Yorkers have always been known.

I hope you’ll join me this month in celebrating, and that you’ll enjoy The Sex Files, where two strangers come together in the city both to solve a little mystery and fall in love while spending the holiday in some of the most pleasurable ways imaginable….

I do hope this story makes you smile. And don’t forget to check out tryblaze.com!

Wishing the happiest holiday to you and yours,

Jule McBride

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For Eileen Keator—

New Yorker, photographer, friend.

And best of all, a woman who dares

to be herself and enjoy life.

You go, girl!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Epilogue

“WELL, KATE,” Oliver Vargo was saying conversationally as he leaned forward in a white-upholstered sectional chair. “I can hardly take personal credit for bringing psychological talents to law enforcement. It’s really nothing new.”

“Please don’t be modest, Mr. Vargo,” replied Kate Olsen, the redheaded interviewer for NBC’s Rise and Shine show and talking head for the evening news. She chuckled knowingly. “The psychological profiles you’ve produced for the FBI have led to the arrest of countless felons, including many who committed crimes previously deemed unsolvable.”

“Psyching out the other guy is as old as crime itself,” Oliver returned agreeably.

“Yet some experts devalue criminal profiling, saying it’s not an exact science.” Before he could respond, Kate turned toward the camera, beginning a slow segue toward the commercial break. “For anyone tuning in, our guest today is FBI agent Oliver Vargo, whose first book How Evil Thinks was one of the longest-running nonfiction bestsellers ever on the New York Times list.” Leaning, Kate lifted a hardcover from a glass-topped coffee table and held it up, her manicured fingers bracketing Oliver’s photograph. “His latest book, Catching Crooks the Old-Fashioned Way, promises to be every bit as successful.

“In a moment, we’ll need to pause for a commercial break,” she continued, returning her gaze to Oliver, “but before we do, what can you tell us about your fascinating book?”

As a wry smile curled the corners of his mouth, his dark eyes twinkled in a way that wasn’t lost on the camera. “In ten words or less?” he joked, playing the audience like a natural while clearly noticing a cue from someone off-camera, probably a producer.

“Don’t worry,” said Kate with an encouraging laugh. “We’ll have time after our break, too!”

“My book defends criminal profiling,” Oliver said, turning serious. “Something that—as you’ve pointed out, Kate—has been debunked by many as mumbo jumbo.”

“Even though the methods are successful?”

“Yes.” He continued in a deep voice that quickened with passion for his subject. “Detractors argue that profiling is a new method for solving crimes, but it’s really more tried-and-true than scientific evidence we readily accept, such as fingerprinting, or analyzing hair and fiber samples.”

“Fascinating,” Kate murmured, her eyes intent. “For those who are just tuning in, what exactly is profiling?”

“Profiling is the old-fashioned way to solve crimes,” explained Oliver.

“And what does it take to become a profiler?”

“Too much schooling,” he joked. “Profilers have dual college degrees in law enforcement and psychology. Some, like me, go on to get post-graduate degrees. Technically, I’m a licensed psychologist.”

“Wow,” she said.

“Yes,” he agreed, “it is exciting. When we profile, we’re playing armchair detective, much as Sherlock Holmes did. We’ll slowly walk through a crime scene, pretending we’re the criminal, to get into his or her mind—”

With every word, Oliver became more intense; dark eyebrows met, accentuating a high forehead from which black, wavy hair was slicked back. “We try to think as the criminal thinks. See as the criminal sees. Feel as the criminal feels.”

For once in Rise and Shine’s three-year run, Kate looked as if she hadn’t heard a word her interview subject was saying. She looked mesmerized by Oliver’s face. “There’s something else our audience—and particularly women—want to know,” she murmured when he was finished.

He blinked, as if talking about work had transported him to an alien planet and he was only now returning. “Yes?”

“We know you deal with the darker side of human nature, Mr. Vargo, but how about the lighter side?”

Now he looked uncertain. “Lighter side?”

Kate smiled indulgently. “Yes, lighter side. What do you do for fun?” When he still seemed mildly stupefied, she plunged on. “According to your biography, you’re unmarried and based in Quantico, Virginia, near the FBI’s profiling headquarters where you usually work.”

“True, but I’ve been traveling this year, Kate, and for the next six weeks, I’m assigned right here in New York City. I’ll be here during Thanksgiving and Christmas.”

“As hard as you’re working, and with so much travel, do you plan to take time off for the holidays?”

“Sure. Although my folks are leaving the country for Christmas, and my sister’s going on vacation with a friend. I guess I’ll…” He looked stumped.

“You mean there’s no special someone?”

DURING THE PAUSE that followed, the tall blonde who was watching the show resituated herself. Tucking a black nightie beneath her behind, she squirmed, grimacing at the discomfort of the thong she wore. Nestling against the satin headboard of a king-size bed at the Plaza Hotel, she groaned when the movements caused her breasts to spill from the scooped neckline, then she felt tears sting her eyes. She wished she could cry, but she hadn’t since….