Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 282

Sterling Keyes: THE BEACH HOUSE Interview

Tell us about yourself and how many books you have written.

I am 31 years old. I quit my 9-5 office job to pursue my dream job: to be a published romance author! I have a story in my head all the time. I love the characters and get excited about their lives and their love interests. I want to write stories that make the readers fall in love with these characters too. So far, I have written several short romances as a ghost writer, but “The Beach House” will be the first book I have released under my penname.

What is the name of your latest book and what inspired it?

The latest book is, “The Beach House” Book 1 in The Shimmer Pointe Romance Series. This is the book that will introduce you to the wind swept and sun kissed Delaware coast town of Shimmer Pointe Beach. This is a story with strong sexy characters who have to learn to follow their hearts.

Do you have any unusual writing habits?

I write to music. I put my headphones on and just kind of zone out into the worlds of my characters. My muse loves music. It seems to unlock my creative energy and I can write for hours, seeing the story in my head just like a movie. It’s not really an unusual habit but it is something I do frequently.

What authors, or books have influenced you?

Nora Roberts, Danielle Steel, Jodi Picoult, Veronica Roth, and Mary Higgens Clark. I grew up with these great authors and their talent inspired me to want to be an author like them. I wanted to create worlds and characters that stuck with the reader long after the book was over. This is still a goal that I have in my writing career.

What are you working on now?

Right now, I am working on Book 2 in The Shimmer Pointe Romance Series, “Bad At Love” This is the story of Justin and Eve who were first introduced in Book 1 “The Beach House” Justin and Eve started their relationship with no intention of getting too emotionally involved. They each think they are content with what they have which is a very casual relationship. That all changes when a surprise shows up on Justin’s doorstep which forces him and Eve to re-evaluate their feelings for one another and decide if they can take a second chance at love.

What is your best method or website when it comes to promoting your books?

The best method and website for promoting my book is Twitter. It’s a great venue to reach a wide variety of readers and authors who have the same interests.

Do you have any advice for new authors?

Never give up. Believe in yourself.

What is the best advice you have ever heard?

Just keep writing and go for it. Have the confidence in yourself and in your talent to just publish your work.

What’s next for you as a writer?

To make 2018 the busiest and most exciting writing year of my life and career. I plan to release 1-2 Shimmer Pointe Romance books per month! I want to grow the series and the readership of this series.

Website: https://sterlingkeyesautho.wixsite.com/website

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/sterlingkeyes

GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/SterlingKeyes

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SterlingKeyesAuthorPage/

Drive Me Crazy (F*R*E*E Read)

It’s Saturday, right? Hard to tell these days. I relieved my daughter a little while ago. I spent the night at her place, walking dogs and taking care of kids—a break from taking care of grandma. I’m really having to work hard to fit in “writer’s work” with caregiving activities. Not that I’m complaining. I wouldn’t. This is what family does. Or at least, what family does when it can. I know that not every family can be “all hands on deck” in a crisis.

Yesterday, at last, we were approved for hospice. No, she’s not going into a facility. She’s staying home, and we’re still her caregivers, but there’s more support—on-call nurses, aides to help with baths a few times a week, some supplies, medicines to keep her comfortable.

We see to her needs, sleep when we can, hold her hand when she’s scared, listen to her stories. And oh, the stories. Who knew grandma loved a Blackfoot boy when she was young. Her mother made her break it off, and she’s apparently regretted it all her life, because here she is talking about a painful breakup eighty years later. Love is a powerful thing.

Hope you enjoy the free short story below. It’s a complete story. Make sure you don’t have any children reading over your shoulders.

Drive Me Crazy

She’s out for one night of passion in a trucker’s big rig…

Just a glimpse of him standing in profile, arms crossed over his well-developed chest and leaning his firm round butt against the dispatch counter, was enough to shore up my weakening resolve. Dressed in faded blue jeans, a black, chest-hugging T-shirt, and a red Razorback ball cap turned backwards on his dark shaggy hair, he was every woman’s blue-collar fantasy.

My mouth dried as I glanced down his tall, muscled frame. What woman in her right mind wouldn’t want one night with all that ripped hotness?

And that’s all it could be—one night. I’d waited until the last possible moment to make my move. The midnight drive to the dispatch office had given me plenty of time to argue my way out of what had seemed like a good plan earlier when I’d realized that the planets had aligned to give me this one last chance to fulfill a long-standing fantasy.

There’d never been the right moment. For the longest time, I was married. When my husband left me for a younger version of me, Danny had been dating a woman with two kids, and seemed to be heading down a straight road to marriage.

We’d flirted; he’d issued lazy, playful invitations for dates or a quickie at the Motel 6 down the road. But I’d never detected even a hint of serious interest. If something was going to happen, I had to be the one to make a move. Today had been my last day at Henderson Transport. It was now or never.

All the reasons why I was crazy to consider this scheme fell away as I ticked through them in my mind:

He’s too young—He’ll be happy because I won’t have any expectations, I said to myself. Well, none beyond a really good time.

I’m management and he’s a driver—Midnight had just ticked past, so not true anymore. We were both free agents. Both consenting adults. All he had to do was say yes.

“You’ll never see him again,” I muttered under my breath as I rubbed my cold hands together. “If he turns you down, you won’t have to live with his smug smile.”

I sucked in a deep fortifying breath, adjusted the neckline of the red Lycra top to show my breasts to their best advantage, and pushed through the glass door.

His head turned at the sound, and then he straightened away from the counter and dropped his arms. “You cuttin’ my route, Angel?”

I gave him a crooked smile. “Think I’d do that and ask you to wait for me here in the middle of the night?”

His brows drew together, curiosity glinting in his gaze before it dropped to my boobs. I’d worn a bra that pretty much left everything sitting on a shelf. My nipples were outlined against the red, stretchy fabric of my top, the tips spiking because I’d given them a little tweak before I’d exited my car.

His frown deepened. “What’s this all about, Angela?”

I cleared my throat and tried for a sultry look. “I think you know.”

He cocked his head and looked me up and down again. Slowly. “You don’t have to hijack a man’s keys to get his attention, sweetheart.”

I planted my hands on my generous hips. “Apparently, I do, because you sure as shit haven’t followed through on any one of your invitations.”

His lips twitched. “I thought you flirted like that with all the guys.”

“You ever see me do it? Even once?”

His jaw tightened. Fatigue showed in the shadows under his eyes. Stubble clung to his craggy cheeks.

I felt a momentary twinge of guilt over the fact I was keeping him from his bed, but that was all I’d allow. He was young and hot as hell. If he needed sleep that damn bad, he could tell his latest squeeze to come around another time. Tonight, he was mine.

“My keys weren’t in the lockbox. I know I left ’em there.”

“You did indeed,” I said nodding. Then I looked him up and down, making sure he hadn’t mistaken my intent. “Fact is, I have an itch that needs scratchin’ and I’m hopin’ you’ll help me out.”

I tried to exude more confidence than I felt, but lost my nerve on the return trip up his hard body. I paused and swallowed hard, then gave a little cough to loosen the knot lodging at the back of my throat. When I reached his mouth, he was grinning.

Shit.

“Angela, is there somethin’ you want?”

You, preferably naked and tied spread-eagle on a bed so you can’t stop me nibbling every edible part of you.

“Angela?”

“Is there something I want? Yeah, there is.”

“Then just say it.”

But I couldn’t. I felt foolish enough. With my cheeks warming with humiliation, I reached into my purse and drew out his key ring. “Look, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken this so far.”

“You made me wait half an hour, when I could have been home, showered, and in bed,” he chided brusquely. “You know how long I’ve been out this time.”

“I know. I arranged the schedule.”

Still, he didn’t take the keys.

I took a step toward him and raised my hand higher. This close, I had to tilt my head to maintain the lock on his gray gaze. Take the damn keys.

But his hands settled on my waist. “I’m still waitin’ for an answer. You want somethin’, sweetheart?” he repeated, his voice lowering to a sexy rumble.

I squeezed my eyes shut, prayed for courage and that the blush staining my cheeks would fade. It was now or never. We’d never see each other again. My seduction skills were rusty as hell, but I could do this. “I want you,” I blurted, and then opened my eyes.

He was wearing that familiar pussy-tightening smirk—one side quirked up, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. “Now, was that so hard?”

“Matter of fact it was.”

He bent toward me, his gaze narrowing on my mouth, but I turned my face. “Not here. Your rig.”

His eyebrows shot up, and he pushed me gently back.

I teetered on my heels for a second.

“After you,” he said, turning me toward the door leading out to the docks. “You know where I’m docked, and you have a key. Let yourself inside and get comfortable. I’m hittin’ the locker room for a quick shower. I smell like diesel.” He turned on his heel, giving me another view of that backside I’d drooled over for months.

A moan slipped from my mouth, and I heard a chuckle as he pushed through the door and left me standing weak-kneed in his wake. Was his haste because he feared I’d lose my courage again? I smiled.

 

He let me wait a good twenty minutes before the door to his cab opened, and he climbed inside. The scent of plain soap swept into the cab that already smelled like him—musky male, diesel. But since he didn’t smoke and didn’t appear to collect his meals, it smelled pretty good for a trucker’s rig. Light shone from the top of a tall post in the parking lot, illuminating the interior of the cab. Security cameras would record who entered the truck, but hopefully not disclose what we were about to do inside it. Another reason I’d waited until tonight for this. Everyone would be blabbing anyway.

I sat in the plush leather passenger seat and glanced away as he climbed up into the driver’s seat.

“Change your mind?” he asked softly.

“No,” I bit out, a little annoyed that he asked. I wanted him to take the initiative, not seek my approval every step of the way.

He arched a dark brow. “Then why aren’t you in the back?”

“Look, you don’t have to feel obligated,” I said, turning to meet his smoky gray gaze. “If you’d rather get some sleep…”

“I jerked off in the shower.”

My jaw sagged just a little then snapped closed. “Now, why are you tellin’ me a thing like that?”

“Because I want you to know how much I want you. Thought I’d take some of the edge off before I came out here. I didn’t want to leave you unsatisfied, darlin’.”

I swallowed hard, eyeing the taut edge of his jaw, the glint of arousal in his eyes. Maybe that hint of desire was just what I wanted to see, but I didn’t back away when he reached for me.

He leaned toward me. His hands slid around my back, one gliding up to fist in my hair. He held my head still as he devoured my mouth, lips rubbing, his tongue stroking in to mate with mine. He tasted like minty toothpaste. The hands pulling me from my seat were strong, his grip firm. I didn’t hesitate to follow his lead as he helped me rise and straddle his lap.

My skirt rode up past my hips, and cool air hit my bare cheeks, but I didn’t care. With the steering wheel rubbing my back, I settled over him, gripping his shoulders, at last feeling the muscles I’d admired for so long flex beneath my wandering palms. I tested his hardness, scratched down the deep indent of his spine, raked his scalp with my nails.

He broke the kiss and pushed me away. Then he tucked his fingers under the top edge of my red shirt and pulled down the stretchy fabric until the neckline cupped the underside of my breasts.

“Interestin’ bra,” he drawled.

I glanced down. My nipples and most of my fleshy breasts were exposed, sitting on a shelf of lace and underwire. “I hoped you’d like it,” I said, my voice creaking like a dry hinge.

Thumbs and forefingers plucked my nipples, pinching and twisting gently, then tugging with more insistence. My heartbeats quickened, and blood surged to aching tips, further engorging them.

I flattened my hands against the back of his head and pulled him toward one spiked tip. I groaned when his mouth latched onto it. He nibbled and licked, bit and rolled.

I ground down against his lap, against the ridge thickening inside his jeans. I rubbed forward and back, the coarse denim building frictional heat between my legs.

One of his hands dropped to my ass, and he moaned as his long fingers dug into the skin bared by my thong. “Get into the back.”

Breathing hard, I stared down. His mouth was blurred and red. His cheeks sharp, expression feral. The hardness in his gaze could have cut diamonds, and again, I didn’t hesitate, no matter that my ass was in his face when I climbed between the seats to the sleeping berth.

The bed was mussed, the sheets wadded at one end. I lay down on my side and scooted toward the back, waiting until he was clear of the seats and stretching out beside me.

Only his legs were too long and he lay at a diagonal, crowding my knees. I slid a thigh between his legs and climbed over his body.

When I sat atop his hips, he smoothed his palms up my torso, rolling up the shirt. When that flew over the seats, he reached around me and expertly opened the clasp of my bra. Without the underwire, I worried that my heavy breasts would sag too much, but he hefted them in his palms, and his breaths deepened.

“I’ve wanted to suck on these forever.”

I gave a short, strangled laugh. “I wouldn’t have said no.”

“Then why’d you wait so long?” he muttered.

“Why didn’t you make the first move? Are you really that arrogant that you have to have a woman come to you?”

“Baby, I didn’t think you’d say yes.”

“Really?”

He grunted, the sandpaper pads of his thumbs continuing to rasp over my nipples. “You’re pretty. Smart, too. And you have every man drivin’, sniffin’ after you.”

“But you’re handsome. I bet you don’t get many no’s from women.”

He arched a brow.

“Okay, so not handsome like a movie star. But you’re rugged and built like a god. I didn’t think you’d want me.” I drew a deep breath before I admitted my biggest fear. “I’m too old for you.”

“There’s only eleven years between us.”

I raised my brows. “How do you know that?”

“I ate your birthday cake and counted the candles.”

When he pinched my nipples, I tensed, my eyelids dipping. “I guess eleven years doesn’t really matter,” I gasped, “when all we’re doin’ is screwin’ around.”

He pinched harder, then holding my gaze, he came up on his elbows and rooted at one of my breasts, sucking the tip, and more, into his mouth. His moan was deep and gravelly. I felt it all the way to my toes.

My other breast tingled, dimples popping up around the areola, and the tip sprung. I cupped it with my palm to ease the ache, but he pulled my hand away and shook his head, wagging my breast right along.

I gave a strangled laugh. “So not sexy.”

He released my breast. “Got any complaints about my technique?”

“Maybe about your pacing.” I ground against his erection. “You’re killin’ me here.”

“Get your clothes off,” he growled.

“You first.”

“No way. I’m the guy. I get off on watchin’.”

I swallowed hard, but I’d asked for this. Wanted for him to take charge, and he had with a vengeance if that hard-eyed look was any indication.

I slid down beside him and rolled to my back, and then awkwardly tugged off my heels, tossing them between the seats in front of us. Then I shimmied out of my skirt, being careful not to lose the scrap of lace shielding my sex from his hungry gaze.

Danny slid a finger under the lacy band at my hip, pulled it, and let it go to snap against my skin.

“Not nice.”

“I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“You gonna order me around all night?”

“I think so,” he murmured. “Seein’ as how it turns you on.” He traced a finger down the lace, right between my folds. He couldn’t miss the moisture soaking through the satin.

When he popped his finger in his mouth for a taste, I pushed my panties down the rest of the way, and then waited as he looked me over.

Danny traced the edges of my nude outer lips. “Did you do that for me?”

I shook my head. “I prefer it.”

“Spread ’em open for me.”

I reached down and opened my lips, and then held them that way while he fingered the thin inner labia and pushed a long thick digit inside me.

My pussy clenched around him, and then released. Then squeezed again. A trickle of moisture greeted his invasion, and he quickly pulled out and sat up in the small, cramped space beside me to tug his shirt over her head. He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them past his hips—just far enough to free his cock, which sprang free, lifting toward the ceiling of the cab.

I didn’t wait for him to tell me what he wanted; he was too tight, too quiet, his breaths coming fast. I climbed over his knees and curled down to take him in my mouth while his fingers combed through my hair and framed my face.

I bobbed down, my lips suctioning, latching around his crown to suckle hard, my tongue swirling over and over his soft, sleek head. I found the slit, teased it with the point of my tongue then swirled again, sinking down his cock to take more of his length, caressing the sides of his thick shaft with my long, slippery glides.

His hand fisted in my hair and pulled me off. “Thought this was supposed to be your fantasy.”

I looked up and licked moisture from my lower lip. “Think I haven’t thought about doing this? What it would feel like? How thick and long it would be? I’m just gettin’ acquainted.”

“Damn. Come on up here.”

I started to crawl up his body, sliding my chest over his belly, but he shook his head. “No, turn around and sit that bare-nekkid pussy over my mouth.”

I pressed my lips together to keep the laughter trapped.

“Not cool enough?” he gritted out.

“It sounded sort of cheesy.”

“Didn’t I say it with enough snarl?”

“Just the right snarl if you were The King.”

“Who?”

“Never mind,” I muttered. Baby.

“I mean it. You got close and personal with me, turnabout is fair play. Bring it on up here, girl.”

“I’m not a girl,” I said, pushing out my lower lip.

He rolled his eyes. “Will you stop with the age thing? I want that pussy on my mouth.”

The way he said, his jaw tightening like he’d turn me over his knee if I didn’t move fast enough, had me inching my way up until I squatted over his face, reaching up to curl my fingers over the edges of an overhead cabinet for balance.

Fingers parted me. He inhaled and gripped my ass in both hands and moved me slightly until my pussy made contact with his mouth. His lips latched onto me, sucking one side then the other, releasing me with moist pops that had me blowing out breaths in short, hard streams through pursed lips because it felt so damn good, so foreign. Like a dream come true because I’d imagined what it might be like and now it was happening.

Danny Echo was eating me out.

He gave long soothing strokes of his tongue and short ones that flickered over my soft wet edges. Then he hardened the point to flutter at my clit.

I couldn’t hold still and began to rock in short glides, guided by his hands as I moved forward and back. I gave a moan when he rubbed his tongue harder over the swollen knot burgeoning at the top of my folds, and held still while he laved it over and over again.

“God, Danny, that’s good.”

“Like it?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He gave my sex a loud smacking kiss, slapped my ass, and pushed me down his body.

I heard a tear, the slick snap of latex, and then he rolled, fitting me under him and thrusting his arms beneath my knees to lift my ass. “Put me inside you.”

I gripped his shaft with both hands, and he rocked forward. I aimed him right at my entrance, felt the nudge of his broad, round cap, and let go, bracing a hand against the wall and clutching the notch of his hip with the other as he entered me.

He was large. Perfect. Pushing gently upwards, crowding through wet, swollen tissue that hadn’t felt the stretch of a cock in good long time. Air hissed between my teeth, and I turned my face away.

“No,” he said softly. “You wanted this. You have to watch.” He reached and hit a light switch. The overhead glared down, exposing us both to the harsh, bright light.

I covered my breasts, but couldn’t help looking down to where our bodies joined.

He pulsed inward, halted, and then pulled out. His shaft glistened with my juices. He slid his fingers around the base of his cock and squeezed. “Keep lookin’ at me like that, and I’ll blow.”

A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, and I knew I must have looked like the kitten licking up all the cream. I was the one who’d made his body so tight and hard that his belly shivered.

“Angela,” he ground out. “Fuck.” He released his grip, angled his cock just right, and slammed up my pussy.

My mouth opened and a long, thin groan joined the nasty sounds echoing around the cab. Juicy slaps. Soft, masculine grunts. Short, metallic creaks. Coming faster as he pounded toward my core.

Release, when it came, roared through me. Toes curling, I snapped open my legs as wide as they could go, arched my back and sank my nails into his backside, trying to hold onto the moment because it was so damn perfect.

When my peak began to wane, he jerked, stroking in short, sharp bursts. Then he dug deeper at the last moment. His head fell back, his mouth opening around a loud, aching groan.

The sight of him, all primal male, chest and belly quivering, his cock still lodged deep inside me, was deeply gratifying.

At last, he gave a sigh and collapsed over me, my legs still wedged high, trapping his arms in the bend of my knee. I couldn’t help it. I laughed.

His head jerked up. His gaze met mine, and his lips twitched. “Think I didn’t do that on purpose?”

“Losin’ circulation yet?”

He ducked and mashed his lips against mine before lifting his body slightly. His arms slid from under my legs, and I eased them down, stretching them on either side of his long frame.

Resting on his elbows, he narrowed his eyes. “So, I hear you’re leavin’.”

The change of topic surprised me, and I blinked. “Word gets around.”

His gaze stayed locked on my face. “Movin’ out of town?”

I nodded, wondering where this was going. Did he want to see me again? I began to regret the fact I hadn’t done this sooner. I would have liked spending more time getting to know him. “To Prescott. I have another job. But how’d you know? I asked Cooter to keep it quiet.”

His mouth stretched. “Your new job—is it dispatch for Ragland?”

I eyed him warily. “That’s it. Just a good guess?”

He shook his head slowly, his smile never dimming.

Warmth centered in my chest. The way he was looking at me, so smug, so certain, told me this wasn’t going to be a one-night stand. I ran my palms over his belly, and scratched my fingernails down toward his groin. He came out of me, and I rolled the wet latex slowly down his length. I held it out and he disposed of it. “Lemme guess. You drive for them.”

“Uh huh. Owner said this hot as hell woman from HT was hirin’ on and did I know you?”

I pulled his cock hard, just to get his attention. “You couldn’t have mentioned this earlier?”

He came over me, bracing his torso on his arms, a wicked glint in his gray eyes. “And spoil one fine-as-hell goodbye? I was already afraid you were going to change your mind.”

“Well, this is awkward,” I said, glancing at him from beneath my lashes. “My contract says no fraternizing.”

“Since we already know each other, it’s not going to be a problem. Told the owner we were friendly. Might only have been wishful thinking on my part, but I didn’t want to close that door to the possibility, Angel.”

“He didn’t mind?”

“Said since I was always professional, so long as we keep it on the down low, he’s got no worries.”

“Does that mean…” I combed my fingers through his chest hair and tugged it.

“That we’re gonna do this again. Yeah. Right now.” He stroked his cock and glanced down. “Well, maybe in a minute,” he said, giving me a crooked grin. Lowering, he pressed his hardening cock against the juncture of my thighs. “And to answer the question I see in your pretty eyes, I plan to camp on your doorstep. You got a place there?”

I nodded. “Movers’ll be at my place at eight. They’ll deliver before nightfall.”

“Need help unpacking?”

My smile trembled, but I couldn’t help it, anymore than I could help the moisture welling in my eyes. “I could use some help putting my bed together.”

“We’ve got the weekend. We’ll get a hell of a lot more done by Monday. If you don’t mind the help.”

“I don’t mind. And I’d love the company.”

“I’ll take my compensation in trade,” he said with another waggle of his eyebrows.

“You will?” I laughed. “Wish I’d known you came cheap.”

“Baby, I’m not cheap. It’s gonna take a while to work off the debt.”

I liked the sound of that. Liked even better the smoky look he gave me. He wasn’t just teasing. “You’re sure about this? About us? This doesn’t have to lead anywhere.”

“I’ve been thinking of settling down for a while, darlin’. Just didn’t have the right partner.”

My chest tightened. “And you think I might be her?”

“I’ve been holdin’ out. Hopin’ you’d notice me.”

I shook my head. “I noticed all right.” I inserted a hand between our bodies and gripped his hard shaft. “Think we might do it again?”

“Think you can manage to turn yourself around? I wanna go deep.”

My breath shuddered outward.

He moved back, kneeling as I clumsily turned. His arms came around me; his hands cupped my breasts. “I love the way you’re built to cushion a man.”

Chuckling, I glanced behind me. “You saying I’m fat?”

“Wouldn’t dare, and you’re not. Just sayin’ it’s gonna give me a lot of satisfaction makin’ you shake and shiver.”

“Dear Lord.” I gave a moan and faced forward, once again bracing a hand against the wall.

Behind me, he arranged my hips and thighs, widening my stance, cupping my sex and warming it before he slipped two fingers inside me.

My channel melted, moisture slipping down to surround his stroking fingers. My belly tightened as arousal built. When he withdrew, I waited, biting my lip to still my moans as he donned yet another condom. Then he was pressing against my pussy, parting me with his thick cockhead, pulsing to push deeper and deeper until he was fully seated.

One hand came under me and fondled a breast, tweaking the tip. “Ready?”

“As I’ll ever be,” I whispered.

His next thrust drove the air from my lungs. Those that followed blew my mind. Hard, targeted strokes raked my G-spot as he pounded me again and again.

I couldn’t believe the wild creature keening beneath him was me. I braced myself, and pushed backward, meeting his hips, welcoming his powerful strokes. How had I gotten this lucky?

When I was nearing the peak, he paused. “Not yet. Not ’til I say.”

The fact he wasn’t breathless impressed me. That he expected me to obey sent a thrill rocketing through me. “And if I can’t wait?” I asked, pulling my hair to the side as I glanced back.

“Expect consequences,” he said, his stormy eyes darkening.

I had thought I was the one with the power. I had initiated this. I was older. But in an instant, I learned I wasn’t the most experienced.

He brought me up so that I sat impaled on his cock, and then smoothed a hand down my belly, fingers gliding into the top of my mound to pluck my clit. It was a hard pinch. He had my full attention.

“I’ll wait,” I gasped.

“Thought so,” he murmured against my hair. Then he moved his hands again, this time cupping my buttocks to lift me and shove me down. Not gently, either.

Not that I minded. Not one bit. I savored the power in his hands, the feel of the wall of muscle against my back. This was no man-child fucking for fun. This was a man asserting his ownership. Power shifted, and not in a subtle gradual way.

“You’re mine, Angel,” he said, then waited, holding me up, letting me know he wouldn’t fill me until I acknowledged his claim.

“I’m yours.” I didn’t recognize my voice. It was thin, tight. Every muscle of my body clenched because I wanted to beg him to finish this. I was right there at the edge.

He bit my shoulder then slammed me downward. I shouted, more out of surprise then pain. “I can’t wait!”

“Now, baby. Now.” He shoved me up and down, then twice more.

With a rush of sweet heat, I shattered. I rocked up and down, out of rhythm, jerking as my orgasm radiated outward from my tightly wound core in waves. When I was able to draw a deep breath again, he was crooning in my ear. Sweet promises of things he’d do to me. Of things he’d demand from me.

And I wanted it all. “Yes, yes, yes.”

For the longest time, he cuddled me against his chest. “I’d like to be there when the movers come.”

“Angling for an invitation?” I asked, smiling with my eyes still closed. I didn’t want to let go of the moment. Wanted to remember the way we felt in the powerful aftermath, sweaty and quivering.

“Do I need one?” he whispered, kissing the spot he’d nipped.

“No,” I said softly.

“I have a confession.”

The way his voice teased my ear only deepened the sweet lethargy sweeping through me. “What do you have to confess? Do you have a secret dungeon?”

He laughed softly. “No, although I do think I want to invest in a paddle.”

My pussy squeezed around him. “So you can watch my ass shiver and shake?”

“I think you’ll like me warming up your ass even more than I’ll like makin’ it jiggle. But that’s not what I want to confess.”

I pinched his thigh. “Then what?”

“I approved your application at Ragland.”

I froze. “What do you mean?”

His hands roamed my belly then spread over the tops of my thighs. When I glanced down, I marveled at how large they were. How capable. But what he’d said didn’t make sense. I shook my head.

“I bought into the company. It’s why I took extra routes with HT. I needed the money. Will you mind workin’ for the boss?”

Leaning my head against his shoulder, I waited, not sure how I felt about the fact I knew so little about him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I had this plan. I was gonna keep this on the down low. I’m still gonna be drivin’ for while. I wanted more time to get to know you. For you to know me. And then you did this—tonight—and I wondered if you might have a thing for a blue-collar guy. I didn’t want you disappointed.”

I angled my head to meet his gaze. His expression was shuttered. “I don’t have a thing for a blue-collar guy. I have a thing for you, Danny.”

His expression cleared, and he gave a nod. “I wouldn’t have liked starting with a lie between us.”

“Sounds like you’ve been thinking about this for a while. About me.”

“I have. I just didn’t think I had a shot.”

I shook my head. “You’re an idiot. You have everything to offer a girl. You could have your pick.”

“And I choose you.”

I let my gaze slide away as warmth spread through me. I’d been so afraid to even think beyond one night because I wouldn’t have been able to bear the disappointment. When his arms tightened around me, I knew he was waiting, and that he was unsure. He was crazy to think I’d reject him. He’d been driving me crazy for the longest time.

Glancing back again, I let him see all my longing, all the hopes I’d held so tightly inside me. I reached back, tangled my fingers in his thick hair, and kissed him.

Nicole Morgan: Returning to my Roots…

Since entering this great big – and sometimes scary world – of publishing, I’ve written almost every subgenre there is but, one genre has always called to me like an old friend. That would be my pal, romantic suspense.

There is something about suspense and being on the edge of my seat that I love. It’s what I look for in movies, and in most books I purchase. So, it’s only natural that my muse works a little overtime spinning tales that fall under that umbrella as well.

This Tuesday, January 30th will bring my latest romantic suspense to the readers in the boxed set, Desperate Measures. And because this is my favorite genre to read, watch and write in, I am especially excited for this release!

Desperate Measures

In Ricochet, one shot will change everything…

From mind twisting thrillers, to pulse pounding suspense, this limited-edition collection from today’s hottest best-selling authors has something for all tastes. Whether you are on the edge of your seat, or curled up into a ball with fright, this set from Romance Collections will not disappoint.

Step inside the minds of these characters. Ride along with them on their journeys. Indulge in their action filled tales of suspense.

The time has come for… Desperate Measures.

PURCHASE LINKS:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Desperate-Measures-Collection-Romantic-Suspense-ebook/dp/B0784Z5P5H

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/desperate-measures-misty-morgan/1107922959?ean=2940155026525

Desperate Measures: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/desperate-measures-74

ITunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/desperate-measures/id1318471242?mt=11&ign-itsct=1318471242-1318471242&ign-itscg=0177&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

About the Author

Nicole Morgan is a USA Today and International bestselling author. She has been writing since 2009 and is an author of erotic romance novels, which often have a suspenseful back story. Erotic romance mixed with good old-fashioned whodunit. While she’s written everything from contemporary to paranormal, her leading men will more than likely be wearing a uniform of some kind. From military to police officers, she has a love for writing about those who protect and serve. From her very first novel (which turned into a four-book series) about Navy SEALs to her more recent releases you will be sure to find a few twists and turns you were not expecting.

Nicole also writes under the pen names of Taylor Brooks and Nicki Day.

www.NicoleMorganAuthor.com

www.romancecollections.com

www.amazon.com/author/nicolemorgan

www.nicolemorganauthor.blogspot.com

www.twitter.com/authornicmorgan

www.facebook.com/authornicolemorgan

www.pinterest.com/AuthorNicMorgan

www.facebook.com/AuthorNicoleMorgan Reader and Fan Group   www.facebook.com/groups/NicoleMorgansBookClub

Charlotte O’Shay: Telling the Tale — Keeping Secrets & Speaking Up (Contest)

Hey there Delilah!

Thanks for the chance to appear on your super blog where today I’m talking about

Authors Telling Tales and Characters Making Decisions

Authors are always asked how they get the ideas for their books and like most writers, for me it’s a combination of elements.

When it comes to plot twists and sexy scenes I let my imagination go into free fall and let fantasy take over.

Sometimes a random overheard conversation is gold and my mind races with what ifs and a story pops out of nowhere.

And ever since I was a kid, my vivid dreams and nightmares carry pieces of ideas and feelings that morph into a person caught at the center of an overwhelming crisis.

The idea for A Model Engagement came from a bunch of whys and what ifs in my head as I watched the TV news one night. Yeah I know, TV news- dangerous thing to do, right?

 It was a sexual assault case, involving a powerful, famous, beloved man in media with a sterling reputation accused of sexual misconduct by an unpowerful woman—a relative nobody, well before #metoo and #timesup.

I kept thinking- why don’t people believe her? That thought sparked ideas about why and how this situation could happen and A Model Engagement was born.

 In A Model Engagement, Lacey is an ex-model with a tabloid past. She keeps her sexual assault secret to protect a loved one. Then she realizes she must speak up to have any hope of making the predator pay for his crime and any chance of regaining her piece of mind.

Lacey doesn’t think she’s strong; she blames herself for her predicament, and judges herself harshly for her naiveté. Somehow she finds a courage she didn’t know she had, tells her secret to her best friend, (Sabrina from The Marriage Ultimatum) and fights back.

Where is the romance you say? In the midst this crisis, Lacey meets Connor and man does he fall hard. Connor is used to jumping in and solving everyone’s problems but he’ll do anything to be the man Lacey chooses. And Lacey learns to accept the love of a strong, swoony, teddy bear of a man while reclaiming herself.

There are no graphic scenes of sexual assault in this book.

EXCERPT:

Lacey needed to get it out before she lost her courage. “I’m happy for you, Sabrina, I really am. And I’m not trying to cut you off. It’s just, I’ve got something to say to you, and if I don’t do it real fast, I may lose my nerve.” And my dinner.

“Yeah, of course, Lacey, sure.”

Lacey cleared her throat. “Ok, I’m just going to say it because I don’t know how else to do this. Several months ago I was given a date rape drug and then I was filmed in some sort of, I don’t know, porno, and now I’m paying blackmail.” There she said it. It was sordid, it was horrible and it sounded even worse out loud than it had in her head but she’d finally told another person.

“Wh—at? What! Oh no, Lacey. Oh my God. How did this happen? Who would do such a thing…?”

It was so dark outside that Lacey could see her face reflected in the window. How weird—she didn’t look any different. Outside, beyond the window, beyond the house, nothing was visible. She couldn’t see anything but she could hear the tide beating against the rocks at the bottom of the sandy grass before retreating, then coming back to do it again. The tide grew louder until it roared in her ears like her own blood. She swayed and had to sit on the floor before she fainted. Sabrina was yelling, cursing a blue streak in her ear—who, what, when, where, why.

In contrast, Lacey’s voice when she interrupted her friend’s tirade was unnaturally calm. “Okay, here it is. Remember that photographer who said I was the front runner to be the face for that big Mon Secret campaign?”

“You mean Barry Bixby?”


“You remember.”


“Duh, of course I do. He’s the guy in fashion photography. Since I’ve gotten more into photography, I’ve become more aware of his work. Are you saying he did this? He’s so, so highly…”

“Yeah, highly regarded in the industry. I know.” Lacey put a fist under her chin, pressed her lips together but a small sound escaped.

“ Not okay, you’re crying, all right sweetie, don’t make a move,” Sabrina said, “I’m coming over there right now.”

Enter my rafflecopter for a chance to win a signed paperback copy of

A Model Engagement.  Thanks for reading.

Here’s the contest link:  a Rafflecopter giveaway

A Model Engagement by Charlotte O’Shay

Lacey Reed jumps at the chance for independence with a career in the big city. But her naivety and ambition blind her to the lure of a blackmailer.

With her savings gone she has nowhere to turn when she literally runs into financier Connor Devlin.

Though dazzled by Lacey, Connor sees the desperation she tries to hide. He hires her as his fake fiancée. Now Lacey has a job and he has a bandage for a family crisis.

When the blackmailer ups the ante, Lacey resolves to face him down— no matter what the consequences.

Does that mean Lacey will lose the only man who’s ever seen who she truly is?

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://amazon.com/dp/B074DPCV76/

Nook: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-model-engagement-charlotte-oshay/1126899607?ean=2940158616327&st=PLA&sid=NOK_DRS_NOOK+EBooks_00000000&2sid=Google_&sourceId=PLGoP75008

The Wild Rose Press: https://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/5260-a-model-engagement.html

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/a-model-engagement

iBook: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/a-model-engagement/id1267055968?mt=11

About the Author

Charlotte O’Shay was born into a big family and married into another big family.

The drama! The noise! The inspiration!

Negotiating skills honed at the dinner table led her to a career in law. After four beautiful children joined the crowded family tree, Charlotte traded her legal career to write about happily ever afters. She lives on the far westside only 3 subway stops from where she grew up.

When Charlotte isn’t reading or writing steamy contemporaries featuring heroines in crisis and swoony heroes with issues, she’s on the hunt for that perfect pair of sunglasses.

She LOVES to hear from readers.

Sign up to my newsletter to find out about giveaways and new releases: http://eepurl.com/b4lbvn

Web: charlotteoshayauthor.com

Twitter @charlotte_oshay http://twitter.com/charlotte_oshay

Instagram (charlotte_oshay_author)

Facebook (Authorcharlotteoshay)

The City of Dreams series are standalone books linked by the wedding in The Marriage Ultimatum.

Book 1, The Marriage Ultimatum ~ Sabrina & Vlad

Book 2, A Model Engagement ~ Lacey & Connor

Book 3, Their Short Term Affair ~ Honey & Jake

Facebook:  http://facebook.com/charlotteoshayauthor

 

Come play!

I’ve been working hard the past few days, and I figure maybe some of you have to. So, take a break! Here’s something fun to do. Enjoy the puzzle, and make sure you’ve read this book before February 6th—when the sequel releases!

SLOW RIDER is out!

The Latest from Texas Cowboys – Slow Rider

When Joe Chavez and a fellow sheriff’s deputy pull over a speeding motorcycle in the middle of the night, neither is particularly shocked to find Paraiso’s wild child, Sarah Michelson, riding bare-assed naked, nor are they surprised when she invites them to join her in a sexy threesome.

Talking her way out of an embarrassing date with the county judge, who just happens to be her daddy, Sarah promises the officers the ride of their lives. Having the men turn the tables on her and introduce her to some scary D/s play, she learns some things about herself she never suspected. Too bad Joe will never see her as anything but a sexy hell cat in need of taming…

Get your copy now!

Coming in February!

Elisabeth Staab:The Tropes of Our Lives

Many thanks to Delilah for having me today!

Now. I’d like to discuss the VERY important topic of why I cannot get The Mountain Between Us out of my head, in spite of the many negative reviews. (CAUTION: SPOILERS AHEAD)

Is it because Idris Elba takes his shirt off? Partly. Really though, it’s the cabin. The cabin where these two frozen and bedraggled people stumble in, finally get a break from fighting life or death circumstances, and the bow-chicka-wow-wows ensue.

I am a total sucker for the stranded in a cabin story. Or the stranded on an island story, or the riding out a storm in a barn story, or… you get the idea. Put two people who wouldn’t otherwise be together into a situation they can only get out of with the aid of falling in love and smexy naked times, make it even a little believable, and I’m there.

As I sit here thinking about it, honestly any good trope that is well-executed (or well subverted), will get my motor humming. Enemies to lovers? Oh, yeah. Workplace romance? Forbidden circumstances? Secret baby? Yes, even the secret baby stories. Make me love it, and I’m yours.

I’m such a sucker for the tropes, that I’ve realized I squeeze as many as I can into each book, often without really trying. They’re just so delicious, I can’t stay away. For me, if one trope is the cake (which, I mean, who doesn’t love cake??), then two are the frosting, three are the sprinkles, and the more sprinkles the merrier.

Now I’m hungry. Anyone else dying for cake now?

In my upcoming book, DON’T LET GO, I’ve managed all sorts of many-layered goodness. I couldn’t be more excited. There’s an alpha male (two, actually), an emotional love-hate situation, a fake relationship, a fling, a touch of class warfare, a playboy, a protector, a run at revenge, a super-delicious May-December kind of thing, and IMO the best? A road trip, during which they become temporarily stranded (YESSS!!!).

Quite a lot of sprinkles on that cake, and I hope you’ll enjoy digging in.

So tell me: What are your favorite cak—Uh, topping—Uh, tropes?  Ok seriously, I gotta go bake a cake now, people.

About DON’T LET GO

(find it at: Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads )

Left behind by everyone he’s ever loved, Alonzo Grover lives as if he’s got no tomorrow. The discovery of a letter from his deceased boyfriend breaks him out of his rut and spurs him to right an old wrong, but the local stick-in-the-mud sheriff’s lieutenant seems determined to ruin his plans.

Lieutenant Sebastian Haas despises tangling with his small town’s most promiscuous party kid. Alonzo’s youth and recklessness drive him crazy in more ways than one… So does the uncomfortable secret they share. But when Haas’s estranged family arrives in town to throw a wedding he wants no part of, he jumps into Alonzo’s car to avoid the family drama.

Together, they wind up on an unexpected road trip. With one setback after another, it looks like they might kill each other before they make it home to Evergreen Grove. That is, unless they find something better to do than fight.

Go get it: Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads

Mini Excerpt:

I’m about to turn and leave when the door slams in against the wall and I find Sebastian Haas, local sheriff’s lieutenant and town hard-ass, giving me the stare down. His blue eyes glitter with the help of the bar’s twinkly fairy lights, serving me a look that’s half “Don’t fuck with me” and half “Can U Handle It?”

“Mr. Grover. Staying out of trouble this evening?”

Everything about this guy pushes my buttons. Can’t stand his perfect cop face. Can’t stand the way he pulls off the world’s ugliest green uniform thanks to a jaw that could crush rocks and a body with no signs of a donut fetish. This guy is the biggest fake goody-goody I’ve met. And I’ve met a lot of fake people in my time. The system is full of liars, let me tell you.

“Maybe you’ll want to help me get into some trouble. Eh, Lieutenant Haas?”

Yeah, I know. You’re supposed to be respectful around law enforcement. My buddy Tyler warns me all the time about the consequences of my attitude, even though I learned that lesson when I was eight. But there’s something about Lieutenant Haas.

He brings out all my ugly, as my old friend, Ruthie, would have said.

Sometimes it’s just the way he stares. He seems out of place in this little town, looking like the product of a science experiment where Channing Tatum and Matt Bomer got smashed together into one person. Then that person put on a cop uniform that fits extra tight through the backside. And then acts so uptight, he could blow diamonds from his asshole.

For real, how can a man so hot be such a bucket of cold water?

You really want it now, don’t you?  Amazon | B&N | iBooks | Kobo | Goodreads

About Elisabeth Staab

Elisabeth Staab used to be the kid who loved getting grounded because there were mystery novels in her bedroom. One day reading romances saved her life, and now she writes them, because the world needs more happy endings. Keep in touch by signing up for her newsletter, or stopping by ElisabethStaab.com.

Gillian Archer: A Royal Wedding!

First, thank you, Delilah, for letting me take over the blog. I’m so happy to be here!

Now let’s talk about the royal wedding. As a romance author (and reader) I feel like I’m more invested in the upcoming royal wedding than the average person. It’s like a romance book come to life. They are so adorable together; you can see their love and adoration for each other in every interview and photo they do. I wish I could post a few pictures as examples, but I don’t have the budget for it

And I realize Meghan Markle is a smart and accomplished woman in her own right, but I can’t help but see shades of Cinderella in their love story. She went from a regular American girl to (in a few months) marrying a prince. Granted, in between she became a successful actress and earnest humanitarian, but still. She’s an American citizen who will be marrying a prince.

And Harry! He’s just so cute with his mischievous smile and ginger hair. He feels like the most approachable and relatable of the royal family. Between his Vegas shenanigans (playing strip pool) and his serious job in the military fighting for freedom, he has all the makings of a romance hero. (And this is making me want to write a yummy ginger military hero.)

So I for one will definitely be tuning in May 19 when Harry and Meghan tie the knot. Are you excited for the royal wedding?

In the meantime to satisfy your royal cravings, check out my new release with Loveswept, Reluctantly Royal, out now!

A bad-boy prince is tamed by a vivacious American beauty in this charming love story.

Officially, the world knows me as His Royal Highness Prince Lucien of Monaco, but you can call me Luc. A long time ago, I vowed never to let my heritage stand in the way of a good time. Now the party’s over.

With the death of my father and my twin brother, I’ve lost a part of my soul—and my freedom. My heartless older brother tells me that not only do I have to settle down, I need to marry a girl with the right bloodlines. AKA, a princess. Yeah, I’ll get right on that . . . after one last trip to Vegas.

That’s where I meet Hannah. Not only is she gorgeous and down-to-earth, she reminds me what it’s like to live completely in the moment. Plus she has no idea who I really am. Hanging out with the locals, I feel like I can just be myself again. Besides, our chemistry is undeniable—especially after we take things to the next level.

What happens in Vegas is special, and I don’t want it to stay there. But I’ve been keeping a secret that will tear us apart. The last thing I expect, though? Hannah’s been keeping a secret of her own . . . one that might just bring us together.

Buy links:

Amazon- http://amzn.to/2phApU4

B&N- http://bit.ly/2pS5G3y

iBooks- http://apple.co/2qNiYwu

kobo- http://bit.ly/2pS3yZX

Google Play- http://bit.ly/2qEgF1l

About Gillian

Gillian Archer has a bachelor’s degree in mining engineering but prefers to spend her time on happily ever after. She writes the kind of stories she loves to read—the hotter the better! When she’s not pounding away on the keyboard, she can be found surfing the couch, indulging in her latest reality TV fixation, or baking something ridiculously tasty (and horrible for her waist line). Gillian Archer lives in the wilds of Nevada with her amazing husband, gorgeous new baby, and goofy dog.

✫✫Other places to stalk Gillian✫✫

Website: http://gillianarcher.com/

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/n3UWf 

Follow Gillian: https://www.facebook.com/GillianArcherWrites/

Tweet Gillian: https://twitter.com/gillianarcher

Add Gillian to your bookshelf: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4970467.Gillian_Archer

Those Texas Cowboys…

I’m on grandma duty today. She’s resting in the background, while I steal some time to work. Thank God, for my MacBook Air—a gift from my sister. It’s light as a feather to lug up and down the stairs as I need. Today, Grandma saw me coming with a bowl of ice cream (really, just a spoon), which she now always suspects has her crushed-up pills mixed in (sometimes it’s apple sauce, sometimes crushed pineapple). She called me a wicked witch and held up her hand to say she wasn’t going to eat a bite. She also called me Mother, so I’m not taking any of this personally.

So, while she’s dreaming about buggies and cold Montana winters (she was born in 1919, so horse and buggy were still a thing on the prairie back then), I’m taking a minute to post.

I just wanted to remind those of you who love the Texas Cowboys that the next installment releases on Tuesday. Slow Rider is very sexy. There’s some menage elements. So be warned! Not very long after Slow Rider, the next story will be coming your way. Check out the cover below! It’s HAWT!

Slow Rider

When Joe Chavez and fellow sheriff’s deputy, Logan Ross, pull over a speeding motorcycle in the middle of the night, neither is particularly shocked to find Paraiso’s wild child, Sarah Michelson, riding bare-assed naked, nor are they surprised when she invites them to join her in a sexy threesome.

Talking her way out of an embarrassing date with the county judge, who just happens to be her daddy, Sarah promises the officers the ride of their lives. Having the men turn the tables on her and introduce her to some scary D/s play, she learns some things about herself she never suspected. Too bad Joe will never see her as anything but a sexy hell cat in need of taming…

Pre-order your copy here!

Night Watch, coming February 16th!

Deputy Logan Ross knows good and well he’s got someone watching him at night, but catching his sexy neighbor in the act has proven an elusive quest. For a lawman who wants to keep his D/s lifestyle under wraps in this small Texas town, the consequences of her ever spilling what she knows are too damning to risk.

Schoolteacher Amy Keating never intended to become a voyeur, but one innocent glance into Logan’s bedroom window opened up a world of sexual play she’d never envisioned. However, when she finds the spotting scope turned on her, she can’t help but reciprocate, luring him into a sexy game of one-up-man-ship that can only lead one place, his bed…

Pre-order your copy here!

Afton Locke: Turning the Tide — A Siren’s Revenge

The Idea

Timing is everything. Several years ago, a famous actress passed away. As I pondered her career and beauty, I got inspired to write a story about a mermaid, a human heroine, and the quest for revenge against a man who’d hurt her. Unfortunately, I wrote only a few chapters before shelving it. It wasn’t the right time, I guess.

Fast forward a few years and Decadent Publishing’s Wiccan Haus series caught my interest. Having already written three shared-world stories for them, I couldn’t resist adding to the series. Someone I met and some rough life experiences gave me the fuel I needed to write a different version of the story. One I had no trouble finishing. It’s finally time to release it!

Turning the Tide: A Siren’s Revenge

Book #25 Wiccan Haus Series

Release Date: 19 January 2018

Stay tuned for buy links, reviews, and more: http://www.aftonlocke.com/Siren.html

After a year of unemployment, Daphne Wells comes to Wiccan Haus to learn hydrotherapy for a new career as a healer. When her assigned patient turns out to be the sexy ex-boss who laid her off, resentment gets in the way of healing.

Giovanni Denaro arrives at Wiccan Haus, desperate to find a cure for the debilitating tension that threatens his high-level financial career. But after some intimate healing sessions, everything loses value except his need for Daphne’s forgiveness.

When a mermaid, filled with her own bitterness, offers Daphne a chance to get revenge on the man who ruined her life, will she dare to turn the tide?

Playlist

Angel – Madonna

Double Rainbow – Katy Perry

Excerpt

Turning the Tide: A Siren’s Revenge – Copyright © Decadent Publishing, 2018

“What happened to you?” she asked.

“I had Myron give me a reading about the stock market. Apparently, it fell a lot today.”

“Hello? It’s been doing that for years.” She raised an eyebrow. “It always rallies, doesn’t it? Are you sure nothing else is bothering you?”

Nothing but the truth. The ugly reality that would turn her gentle eyes into hard pools of hatred. He couldn’t help crying out as the biggest cramp yet squeezed his body. She crouched over him on the stone bench, one leg on either side of him.

After crying out, too, she collapsed on top of him and laid her damp cheek against his. “Tell me what to do for you,” she said in a strangled whisper. “Or I’m calling the guys.”

Having her weight on him made breathing even harder, but feeling her soft skin was worth it.

“Kiss me,” he whispered back.

Her mouth covered his so fast it stole what little breath he’d managed to draw. Her lips were salty with tears. Nothing had ever tasted so good. He drank from her—her love, her healing, her very essence.

She shifted her pelvis, sliding it over his hardening cock. When the indentation in her blue terry cloth shorts contacted the head, he pushed, needing to enter her more than breath.

“I need—” he gasped.

“What?” When she dragged her torso across his chest, he felt her erect nipples through both their shirts. “Anything, Giovanni. I’ll do anything for you.”

Instead of replying with words, he forced his hand down the back of her shorts and gripped the sweet curve of her buttocks. The scent of her arousal mingled with the misty air, impossible to ignore.

“Yes,” she cried, swinging a knee to one side of him and tugging down her shorts.

His groin clenched at the sight of her wet panties. Knowing he’d aroused her so much gave him ten times more power than running a high-level board meeting. With one hand, he pulled up her white tank top so it rested above her breasts. With the other, he helped her out of her shorts and panties.

He’d never grow tired of gazing at the thatch of neatly shaved hair between her legs. It looked as businesslike as the suits she used to wear to work. How often had he fantasized about undressing her when he was her boss? Now he knew how those tantalizing dark hairs felt and tasted slipping across his tongue.

One by one, his muscles eased their tension from pain to anticipation. His cock was so wet with pre-cum when she grasped it, her palm slid to his balls in a single stroke. Although his neck still hurt, he lifted his head to gaze at her rosy nipples and the puckered skin around them. Droplets of mist from the hot water spring jet on their side of the pool dotted her smooth skin, making her resemble a goddess.

“Protection,” he muttered, letting his head drop back to the hard bench with a smack. “We don’t have any.”

“Yes, we do.” With a hand still on his cock, she rummaged in the nearby towel cabinet with the other. “They’re hidden in here.”

She wouldn’t have known exactly where they were unless she’d considered using them with him. More pre-cum pooled on the head of his erection. Finally having her, after years of lusting for her, was more than a fair exchange for missing critical time from work.

To hell with the truth. He’d tell her afterward.

Where readers can find me

Newsletter: http://www.aftonlocke.com/mailing-list.html

Web site: http://www.aftonlocke.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AftonLockeAuthor

Twitter: http://twitter.com/aftonlocke

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/Afton_Locke

YouTube: http://www.youtube.com/user/aftonlocke