"A sexy and thrilling serial..."
Reviewed by Annie Tegelan
Posted June 12, 2013
Serial | Erotica | Romance Erotica Sensual
In the first of the Not Until You serial, Roni Loren
introduces a newly graduated veterinary student Cela who
hasn't felt as if she has lived since putting herself
through school. Now finished with her education, she feels
hopelessly alone and in need of some company on the night
of her graduation. With a bottle of tequila, Cela steels
her spine and visits her neighbours whom she has been
lusting after for some time.
Foster is a regular member at The Ranch, a BDSM club while
Pike is a sexy musician. Together, they make one sexy as
hell sandwich. However, Foster is tired of the endless
string of one-night stands and is looking for someone to
call his own. As Cela, Pike and Foster go out for a night
of dancing, Foster can tell that this is just the beginning
of something blazing.
Loren sets up the serial well by introducing a heroine who
is shy, but curious enough to go for what she wants.
Foster, the dominating hero has already staked his claim so
I am curious to see how Pike will fit into this threesome
relationship. In what promises to be a sexy and thrilling
serial, Loren intrigues readers with endless possibilities.
On the night of her graduation, innocent veterinary student
Cela decides to play a game of Never Have I Ever with the
two hot neighbors she's been quietly crushing on for the
last year. Always the prim and proper student, Cela thinks
she's earned a wild night before she has to move back home
under the watchful gaze of her family. But what starts out
as a simple game is about to take a very sensual turn...
Ian Foster is tired of playing games. With his
membership to The Ranch, an exclusive BDSM resort, and a
musician roommate named Pike who brings home groupies with a
taste for ménage, Foster has a life most guys would kill
for. But lately, his need for dominance is no longer
satisfied via one–night stands. He craves the full
surrender of one woman—a submissive of his own.
But when his quiet, sweet–as–sugar neighbor
shows up at their door with a bottle of tequila and an
invitation, Foster decides he and Pike may have time for one
"Andre, this isn't a good time. Can I call you back?"
I did my best not to let my cell phone slip from between
my ear and shoulder. Just don't drop the tequila. I adjusted
the enormous bottle my friend, Bailey, had given me as a
graduation present from my right hand to beneath my left arm
and tried to dig my keys out of my purse so I could open the
main door to my apartment building.
"I'm so sorry I wasn't able to make it, Cela," my older
brother said, his guilt obviously trumping my request to
call him later. "I got caught at an investigation site. I
thought I'd be able to get there in time, but we had a
witness wanting to talk and...."
I cursed silently as my keys hit the pavement. I crouched
down, doing my best not to flash my underwear to anyone who
may be passing by. "Really, it's fine. They called my name.
I walked across the stage and got a piece of paper and a
sash for being summa cum laude. Papá yelled my name like he
was at a baseball game instead of a ceremony. Mamá cried.
Not that interesting."
My brother's heavy sigh said everything. I almost felt
guilty that he felt so guilty. "Before you move back home
next month, we're getting together to celebrate. My baby
sister, the doctor. I'm so proud I could burst."
I smiled. I did like the sound of that. Dr. Marcela
Medina, Doctor of Veterinary Medicine. Seven years of exams
and studying and clinics, but it was finally done. Now it
was time to leave Dallas and head back home to Verde Pass
and take up the slack in my dad's practice.
That last part had my smile faltering a bit. I hooked my
key ring with my finger and wobbled back to a stand. "That's
sounds great. But I really have to get going. I have my
hands full and need to get through the door."
"Cela, you know better than to carry too much. Parking
lots at night are one of the most dangerous places for
women. Are you holding your mace?" he asked, his voice going
into that bossy cop tone I was all too familiar with.
"It's in my hand," I lied, trying to remember where I'd
stowed the last little canister he'd given me—probably
in her junk drawer. "But I don't have a free hand to pull
the door open."
"All right," he said, placated. "Congratulations again. I
"Love you, too."
The phone call ended but I didn't have a way to take the
phone off her ear, so I just shuffled forward in a sideways
hunch, trying to juggle everything I was holding to get my
key into the door. After two attempts, I got the lock turned
and pressed my back against the glass door to push my way
into the lobby.
As soon as I'd cleared the entrance and turned toward the
stairs, male voices sounded behind me. Of course someone
would show up right after I didn't need help anymore. I
peeked back to see who it was, Andre's danger warnings still
echoing in my head, but found something more distracting
than criminals—my neighbors, Foster and Pike.
Foster stepped through the main door first and glanced my
way. As usual, everything went melty inside me, his smile
like a zap of heat to my system. Ridiculous. "Need some
I straightened, but forgot about my phone in the process.
My brand new I–
Phone went sliding off my shoulder.
"Crap!" I lurched forward, trying to save it from its
imminent demise, and accidentally dropped my plastic bag of
Chinese takeout on the way.
"Whoa, there." Pike, Foster's roommate, was at my side in
a second. His hand caught my elbow, saving me from losing
the ginormous bottle of liquor along with my balance. But my
phone clattered to the ground, the harsh sound mixing with
the splat of my noodles hitting tile.
I winced, anticipating a broken screen. "Dammit."
Foster bent down, his tie brushing the ground as he swept
my phone off the floor. He peered at the screen, dark brows
lowering over pale eyes, then he turned the phone toward
me—the happy puppy screensaver staring back at me in
tact. "All is well. Luckily, these things are built to take
My brain got snagged on the work lick, and the back of my
neck went hot. My lips parted, but words failed me. Great,
imitate a gaping goldfish––that's cute.
Pike cleared his throat, easing the tequila from my arms,
and then crouched down near the open bag at my feet. He
grabbed a noodle from the spilled box of Chinese food,
tipped his head back and dropped it into his mouth, his eyes
watching mine. "The lo mein's a loss, though."
I swallowed hard, his gaze even more bad boy than the
tattoos peeking out from his open collar. His pierced tongue
snaked around the noodle. Look away. I forced my face
upward, but then ended up focusing on Foster again. Say
something. God, I was standing there like an idiot. This was
why I always avoided these two like like they were
contagious. They made me go stupid.
Foster held out my phone, and I managed to take it, the
slight brush of his fingers against mine hitting the reset
button in my brain. I managed a feeble, "Thank you."
Foster glanced at the mess on the floor. "I'm really
sorry I said anything. I didn't mean to distract you from
your intricate juggling act."
I shook my head. "No, it's my fault. I shouldn't have
been trying to carry everything at once. It's been a long
day, and I was hoping to save myself a second trip up the
"The joys of a walk–up." Pike grabbed a few napkins
and started cleaning up the noodles at my feet like it was
his mess to worry about.
"Oh, you don't have to do that." I lowered down to my
knees. "I'll take care of it."
He grinned over at me, the mirror opposite of his
roommate. Ian Foster was all suits and dark looks—a
man who preferred to be called by his surname. Whereas, Pike
didn't seem to even have a last name. He was a drummer in
some popular local band—jeans, a
sex–on–the–mind–smile, and spiked,
bleached hair his usual uniform. Not that I had studied
either of them. Or listened to their escapades through the
wall I shared with them. Not at all.
Keep telling yourself that, Cela.
Despite my protest, Pike helped me finish picking up the
mess. "So what's the big ass bottle of tequila for? No one
could've had that bad of a day."
I glanced over at the bottle I'd set on the floor,
debating whether I could be trusted to have normal
conversation with these two without sounding like I had a
speech impediment. "I, uh, graduated today. It was a gift."
"Oh, right on."
"Congratulations, Cela," Foster said, dragging my
attention upward. Just the sound of him saying my name in
that smooth, dark voice had my stomach clenching. He was all
southern refinement, but I didn't miss the glimmer of a
drawl underneath it all.
Ay dios mio. My body clamored to attention like an eager
labrador ready to be petted. Down, girl. These guys were way
above my pay grade. I wasn't dumb or delusional. I'd
seen/spied on/secretly hated the women who'd passed through
their apartment door—women who looked like they'd
earned their doctorates in the art of seduction.
I hadn't even reached the kindergarten level in that
"You were going to vet school at Dallas U, right?" Foster
had tucked his hands in the pockets of his slacks, and
though the question was casual, I had the distinct
impression he was tense beneath that suit jacket.
Pike handed me a napkin for my hands and stood to toss
the food into a nearby trash can.
I wiped off my hands and pushed myself to my feet, trying
to do it as gracefully as possible in my restrictive skirt.
"Yes, how'd you know that?"
"The scrubs you wear have the school insignia on them,"
Foster said, as if it was totally normal that he'd looked at
me that closely.
"Observant." Especially considering I usually only
managed a head–down, mumbled
hey–how–are–ya exchange when we passed
each other in the hallway. Secretly listening to one of your
hot neighbors having sex had a way of making eye contact a
bit uncomfortable the next day—particularly if said
eavesdropper had used the soundtrack to fuel her own
interlude with her battery–operated boyfriend.
Not that I had. Several times. Whatever.
Pike sidled up next to Foster—a motley pair if
there ever was one. "So, doc, now that you've got no dinner
and clearly too much liquor on your hands, why don't you
join us? We already have pizza on the way, and we can play a
drinking game with the tequila. Do college kids still play
Never Have I Ever? I was always good at that one."
Kid? Is that what they saw me as? Neither of them could
be that much older than I was. Though in terms of life
experience, I had no doubt they trumped me a few times over.
"Oh, no, that's okay." The refusal was automatic, long
practiced. How many times had I turned down such
offers—from guys, from friends? My parents had been so
strict when I was younger that I almost didn't know how to
say yes even after living on my own the last few years.
Studies first. Fun later. Yet, there never seemed to be any
time for fun after the first one was finished.
"You sure? I don't want you going to bed with no dinner
because of us," Foster said, frown lines marring that
perfect mouth of his.
Going to bed and us was about all I heard. My father's
stern voice whispered in my ear. You don't know these men.
You'll be all alone in their apartment. Medina women have
more respect for themselves than that.
"Really, I'm fine," I said, my smile brief, plastic. "But
"Oh, come on," Pike said, his tone cajoling. "We've been
neighbors for what, two years? We should at least get to
know a little about each other."
Get to know each other? I knew that Foster was loud when
he came—even if he was alone. Knew that Pike liked to
laugh during sex. Knew the two men shared women. And the
other sounds I'd heard over the last two years...the smacks,
the commands, the erotic screams. My face went as hot as if
I'd stuck my head in an oven.
"Y'all just want me for my tequila," I said, attempting
to deflect my derailing thoughts.
The corner of Pike's mouth lifted. "Of course that's not
all we want you for."
"Uh..." Oh, hell. Pictures flashed across my brain.
Dirty, delicious pictures. I almost dropped my phone again.
I had no idea what to do with my hands, my expression.
Foster put a hand on Pike's shoulder. "The lady said no.
I think we should let her go celebrate her graduation
however she wants."
"All right." Pike's face turned hang dog, but he handed
me the tequila bottle. "If you change your mind, we've got
big plans. Supreme pizza and a Star–Wars–themed
porn marathon. The Empire Sucks C—"
Foster smacked the back of Pike's head, and Pike ducked
"Kidding. I mean, a Jane Austen marathon," Pike
corrected, his green–gold eyes solemn. "Pride and
Foster was behind Pike, his hand clamping over his
friend's mouth in a flash. "I seriously can't take him out.
He's like an untrained puppy. Maybe you can lend me a shock
collar or something."
Pike waggled his eyebrows, all playful wickedness.
I laughed, putting my hand to my too hot forehead, and
turning toward the stairs. "Yeah, so, I'm going to go now."
"Cela," Foster said as I put my foot onto the first step.
I glanced back. "Yeah?"
His ice melt eyes flicked downward, his gaze alighting
along the length of me before tracing their way upward again
in a slow, unashamed perusal. "Promise you won't go to bed
I wet my lips, my skin suddenly feeling too tight to
accommodate the blood pumping beneath it, and nodded.
But it was a lie.
I always went to bed hungry.
And it had nothing to do with a spilled dinner.
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