Delilah Devlin's Blog, page 450

The Sexy Side of Lost Souls

Just two days to go until Lost Souls releases. You know it’s spooky. I proved that yesterday. Betcha wanna know I deliver on the sexy too, right?

Here’s a little snippet. Something to tide you over. Once upon a time, Cait and Sam were married. They know each other well. So you’re wondering, will there be any surprises left? Huh. You have no faith! It only gets better!

Enjoy this little glimpse inside Lost Souls. It releases Tuesday!

* * * * *

Inside, the foyer was empty and dark. A step deeper into the apartment, he noted the kitchen and tiny living room were empty. He eyed the bedroom but sensed he wouldn’t find her there either. These days, she couldn’t sneak up behind him because he’d developed a sixth sense. Or maybe he was just reverting to a more primal version of himself, and he could scent her without realizing he did.

Right now, her soft, feminine musk was absent. Another familiar smell missing from the apartment was the sour odor of booze. Something he didn’t take for granted, because Cait’s sobriety was still so fragile.

Pulling his iPhone from his pocket, he tapped the screen, found her number, and tapped again.

She picked up on the first ring. “Hey.”

“You still on stakeout?” he asked.

“Finished a little while ago,” she said, an edgy energy in her voice. “Just went by your apartment, but you weren’t there.”

His eyebrows shot up. Cait never came by his place. He thought maybe she didn’t want proof he’d managed to move on after their divorce. Which suited him fine. Last thing he wanted her to see was evidence he hadn’t. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s not a good idea to leave your key on the door frame?”

“Only one ever used it was you.”

He grunted. “So you always say.”

“If you’re so worried about it, why not put it on your key ring?”

Sam paused. Not the grumpy response he’d expected. And her voice held a breathless note, like the question meant more than she wanted to let on.

He decided to ignore her suggestion, because the act would be another step toward a commitment he wasn’t ready to make again. But he didn’t tell her that. He didn’t want to hurt her. “How far away are you?”

“Pulling up now.”

He turned and lifted a slat in the blinds to watch her car slide in beside his.

“Oh look, I have an intruder,” she said, humor lightening her voice. “I might have to draw my gun.”

“You don’t carry a weapon,” he muttered, retracing his steps.

“That wasn’t the kind of gun I was talking about.”

His cock pulsed at her deep-throated drawl. A grin teased at the corners of his mouth. He opened the front door and leaned against the frame, pretending he wasn’t eager to grab her up and toss her on the first soft surface he could find.

“Glad you’re here,” she said, still holding the phone to her ear as she stepped out of the car.

Sam shoved his into his back pocket and folded both arms across his chest, waiting as Cait sauntered toward the door. Her hips swayed, her eyelids dipped as she raked his frame with a glance that said just how happy she was to see him. She halted mere inches away, tilting her chin to meet his gaze. Not that far, because even though he was taller, her boots added a couple of inches.

His heart started its happy dance, thrumming in his chest, but he held still, waiting to see what her first move would be. She always managed to surprise him, whether aiming barbs to incite his anger, which invariably turned to lust, or rarely, letting him see a hint of vulnerability. He’d always been a sucker for those infrequent moments when she let down her walls and allowed him inside her complicated mind.

Cait tucked a lock of wavy red hair behind an ear while her mossy green gaze ate him up. But rather than move in for a kiss, she leaned away.

“Why were you looking for me?” he asked, arching a brow. “Something you needed?”

Her head shook, and she gave a soft feminine snort. “Think you have anything I need?”

He aimed a smoldering glance at her green eyes. “I recall you needing something just last weekend. Something you got on your pretty little knees to beg for.”

She rolled her eyes and laughed. “Not fair. And you’re not going to distract me until after we talk.”

“But you want some distracting?” he asked hopefully.

Cait laid a palm against his cheek. “Baby, you know I love it when you make me forget everything.”

At her touch, he gave a little growl but moved out of the door to let her pass, cupping her ass for a quick feel as she stepped inside.

Her bottom wiggled, but she strode away, setting her purse and a camera on the coffee table. Then she plopped onto the couch and tugged off her boots. “The PD has a room at the Deluxe on South Front Street taped off,” she said, not looking his way.

Which should have warned him, she was about to drop a bomb. Sam sucked in a breath. Surprised, but not for the sexy reason he’d expected. But why was he shocked? Hadn’t he known their professional paths would intersect again—especially given the strange circumstances of the investigation he’d been asked to lead? “Third floor? Room 323?”

Her gaze swung, locking with his. “Exactly.” Then her eyes narrowed. “Wait. Why were you here? You knew I’d be on stakeout until late. Thought we weren’t meeting until Friday.”

Sam frowned. “Leland wants you.”

“Another case?” Her glance held steady. “The room?” At his nod, she cursed. “I knew it,” she muttered, lips tightening.

“I’ll show you what I have if you show me yours.”

Her cheeks flushed, and her lips stretched. “No more sexy talk. I can’t think when you say things like that. Another full-moon case?”

“Right up your alley, baby.”

She pushed off the sofa and walked toward her bedroom.

He trailed behind.

When her face turned toward his again, her expression was tight, her skin a little pale. “Ready for another round of crazy train?” she asked softly.

Sam wasn’t ready for another case like the last one, but if he wasn’t the one to bring it to her, Leland would rope her in anyway. His boss, her old nemesis, was a believer now. “So long as you let me have your back.”

Her eyelashes fluttered. “Sure that’s all you want?” she drawled.

Sam canted his head. “Thought you wanted to lose the sexy talk.”

She walked to him and leaned against his chest, rubbing her breasts against his body. Her eyelids dipped. “Is that really what you want?”

Knowing she was stalling, but not caring since her nipples were tight and scraping his chest, he dipped his head toward hers. “Maybe we should get this out of the way before we get down to business.”

“I like the way you think, Detective Pierce,” she said, her hands flicking open the buttons of his dress shirt.

Sam inhaled deeply, content to let her do the work while he watched. He lifted his hands to cup her hips and drag her against the part of him most eager for her attention.

“You’re not making this any easier,” she murmured, bending slightly back so she could finish with the buttons. Then she slid his shirt off his shoulders, forcing him to let go so the garment could fall to the floor.

Then all bets were off. He rucked up his T-shirt, dragging it over his head. Her busy fingers were already freeing his belt, opening his trousers, and reaching inside—

The moment she wrapped her firm grip around his shaft, his eyes squeezed shut. “Jesus, Cait.”

“Love the way you say that,” she said, her voice a throaty murmur.

Her hair brushed his belly, and he opened his eyes, eager for the sight of her dropping to her knees in front of him. With one hand holding his cock, she bobbed forward, taking him into her mouth. Engulfed in sweet heat, he rocked on his heels. Then she grabbed for the waistband of his trousers and shoved them down his tightened thighs.

She’d forgotten his shoes, and he couldn’t step out of his clothing. Maybe that was her intent, because she scrambled backward and began removing her own clothes, slinging away her tank and shoving down her jeans, all the while watching him with a slightly wild glint in her eyes. When she was nude except for her bra, she grabbed his arm and swung him toward the bed.

He went down, sitting on the edge, his feet bound together. She didn’t mind. Her smirk was wide, her eyes glittering with triumph as she straddled his lap and shoved at his chest, forcing him to lie back.

Above him, she shook back her long hair, looking every inch the exotic Irish witch: pale skin, rusty brown nipples, dark thatch of hair between her legs. Her slender but strong frame undulated, the muscles of her abdomen bunching then stretching as she rubbed her sex along his length. She leaned down, bracing on her arms as she scooped his lips with her own lushly swollen mouth.

He kissed her back, his arms encircling her. “This would work so much better if you got my shoes off,” he whispered.

“Think I want you in charge?”

The challenge heated his blood. He gave her a rueful smile. “Don’t you always?”

She traced his mouth with a stroke of her tongue. “Maybe I don’t want this over fast.”

He stuck out his tongue and flicked her bottom lip. Her breaths deepened, and she came down on her elbows, her mouth locking with his.

Suctioning against her wet lips, he knew he had her. Her hips rolled, sliding on him, unable to capture the tip of his cock because it was trapped between their bodies. And he wouldn’t allow her the room she needed.

Cait nipped his chin, her eyebrows drawing together in a sexy frown. “Dammit, I hate it when you’re right.”

He chuckled, sliding his hand to the back of her neck, still keeping her close.

She licked his teeth between his smiling lips. “Tell you what,” she whispered. “Let me go, and I’ll slide off. Get off the last of your clothes, and then we’ll wrestle to see who’s on top.”

Sam grunted, knowing the only way she’d win would be if he let her. “Think you can beat me?”

Her eyelids swept down, and she gave him a rare, flirting glance from beneath the fringe of her dark lashes. “Three, two, one!” She rolled away.

He jackknifed up to reach for his boots, sending them flying, and then shoved his trousers off his feet.

She was on him before he had a chance to face her, her arms clamping around his shoulders from his side and pulling him down to the bed, her sturdy, slim legs slipping over his hips. With a triumphant laugh, she came over him.

With his large hands, he cradled her hips. “Think you’ve got me now?”

Her hips lifted. Her slick sex slid along his cock and then wriggled at the tip to center it. With a sexy roll of her hips, she impaled herself. “Don’t I?” Then she groaned. “Sweet Jesus, that feels good.”

Sam heaved up, his arms coming around her as he stood. Her thighs gripped his hips; her legs crossed behind him. He took a couple of steps forward and flattened her back against the bedroom wall. “Sure about that now?” He bent his head toward hers, locking with her sparkling green gaze.

“I do believe I have you right where I wanted you. I win,” she whispered, her lips an inch from his, her hot breath wafting against his mouth.

“I control every move,” he countered, giving her a swirl of his hips that brought him deeper.

Air hissed between her teeth. Her lids fell halfway. “Waiting for something?”

“For your surrender.”

“Why does that sound so sexy coming from you?”

He shook his head, enjoying the moment, because they both knew she’d concede, but she liked drawing out the foreplay—a long tease that fired both their senses.

Sam slipped his hands to her rump and gave both cheeks a hard squeeze. Her breaths came faster. Her nipples were spiked and poking at his chest. He dropped his gaze for a look, then groaned. What he wanted was one of them in his mouth, and he couldn’t bend that low, not with her staked on his cock and crammed against the wall.

A warm, husky chuckle shook her.

Glancing up, he caught the smile twisting her lips.

“Just ’cause you’re bigger doesn’t mean you’re in charge,” she whispered, and then gave him a squeeze with her inner muscles, one so strong his cock pulsed inside her.

Suddenly, waiting for her to cry “uncle” wasn’t a priority.

His mouth slammed on her smiling lips, and he began to pump his hips, pushing deep then dragging away. The sensation of gliding in her hot, silky depths . . . indescribable, mind-blowing.

Reduced to grunts and groans, he pounded her, letting her have her victory, ready to concede all for the pleasure of being with her like this.

Cait’s slender hands glided up his chest and around his neck. Fingertips scraped his scalp. He ended the kiss to press his forehead against hers and watch her expressions as he continued to thrust hard inside her.

Her cheeks were red, her mouth pouting. Her eyelids dipped and rose with his movements, tiny mewls of pleasure escaping as their bodies writhed together. “The bed,” she gasped.

He shook his head and tunneled deeper, not wanting to pause the drugging motions for even a second.

“Please, Sam.”

Christ, he loved to hear her beg.

Saturday Snippet: Warm Weather

It’s Saturday! Which means authors are sharing snippets, enticing you to read their books! Be sure to read my excerpt and then follow the links at the bottom of this post to find sexier bits to read. The theme is Circles in the Sand (warm weather), but since I have a new book coming out on Tuesday, rather than a hot beach scene, I’m showing you the opening of Lost Souls, Book 2 in the Caitlyn O’Connell novels. It’s set in Memphis in the hot, sticky summertime. It doesn’t start with a sexy beach scene. Instead, it begins with a spooky mystery to unravel. Enjoy!

If you post a comment today, you’ll be entered to win

a $5 Amazon gift certificate!

What people said about Book 1,  Shattered Souls:

“SHATTERED SOULS shocked me with its exhilarating story line and its magical world of Witches, Wraiths and Demons. Ms. Devlin wrote an intriguing urban fantasy with just the right balance of romance, nail-biting scenes and well-developed characters. She really got me hooked from the beginning until the end.” ~

5 Feathers and Top Pick, Under The Covers

“An intriguing paranormal tale that combines romantic suspense with a mesmerizing tale of otherworldly beings.” ~ Top Pick, Night Owl Reviews

“Delilah Devlin has created a fascinating world of magic and the mundane in SHATTERED SOULS… A terrific book, SHATTERED SOULS will leave you breathless for more.” ~ 4.5 Blue Ribbons, Romance Junkies

Fan favorite Delilah Devlin delivers her second paranormal romantic thriller featuring unforgettable heroine, Caitlyn O’Connell. This time, the psychic PI joins her police detective ex-husband to find a demon pulling women into the past to commit their murders in a seedy Memphis hotel.

Private Investigator Caitlyn O’Connell is tapped by Memphis PD to discover who has been using a Memphis hotel as his killing ground. Women are going missing, and their bodies are found inside the walls of the hotel. But the bodies themselves? They appear to have been murdered in the distant past. With ghosthunters and cops crawling all over the crime scene, Cait and her detective ex-husband Sam Pierce race to find the demon responsible before he kills again.

Darkness sank as murky as the sultry summer air, as heavy as a blanket pulled over a child’s head to hide the monsters lurking in a shadowy closet. Street lamps popped and sizzled, darkening then lightening, but failing to flare bright enough or long enough to chase away deep pockets of inky black. Cait was creeped out, since all she had were glimpses of silvery light from a full moon rimming buildings and casting deeper shadows to cloak alleyways and doorway stoops.

Another full moon. An event she was acutely aware encouraged monsters, both human and supernatural, to come out and play. Edgy and beyond bored, she almost wished for something out of the ordinary to happen, but then quickly changed her mind. The last time her job had given her a real challenge she’d battled a demon in an attic while a wraith latched its freezing fingertips around the man sitting beside her, slapping him around like a rag doll.

For just a second, she relished that last memory. At least Jason had been awake.

For the umpteen thousandth time that night, Caitlyn O’Connell sighed. This time exaggerating the sound. Loudly. Actually, more of a groan than a sigh. A sound that invited Jason Crawford, lying back in the seat beside hers, to wake up and keep her company. She was bored as freaking shit. Surveillance was the one part of her job she truly hated. In fact, she thought she might like having her ingrown toenails cut better than sitting in a dark alley waiting for something to happen.

The weather irritated her even more. Although she’d stripped down to a tank top and jeans, the insides of her boots were damp from the oppressive summer heat. Not a trace of a breeze stirred, and they’d shut off the sedan’s engine to be able to hear vehicles approaching, so the AC sat silent.

What good was having magic if she couldn’t even muster up a spell to start a breeze? She’d tried waving, punching, wiggling her nose, but nada. Worse, she’d tried to come up with a poem to appease The Powers That Be, but hadn’t found a line that sounded even remotely elegant with “wheeze” tacked on the end.

She supposed she’d used up her last favor asking for intervention with Worthen’s monstrosity, the Civil War–era demon resurrected in his tomb, for which she’d had to beg The Powers and a certain sorcerer for help defeating. Or perhaps they didn’t like how she’d ignored Morin since she’d fought the demon and won. Whatever. She was a PI, not a witch. And right now, she had a job to do.

So why couldn’t she and Jason be watching the Peabody Hotel? Or any of the nicer hotels in the downtown area? The Deluxe Hotel was anything but deluxe. The marquee above the entrance was missing a few letters and read, Deluxe Ho, which on second thought appeared apropos for the sleazy dive.

The whole area had an aura of neglect. Trash overfilled bins and cluttered the gutters. Worse, a small tattered sign was taped to the hotel’s glass door: AA Meeting, 9 pm Saturday.

Mocking her. The very thing her ex-husband, and now sometimes boyfriend, had been nagging her to locate.

And worse yet, the car she sat in reeked of stale onion-and-anchovy pizza. If she didn’t know him better, she might have thought her partner had ordered it on purpose. But he’d munched away happily, while she’d chosen to drag in the scents from the overfilled bin they’d parked beside. Better unknown trash than fishy-smelling onion breath.

Her cheeks billowed around another harsh exhalation. How the hell could Jason sleep through all the noise she’d been making? She aimed a scowl his way, caught the quick lowering of his eyelids and a twitch at the side of his lips.

She gave a grunt and turned back to watch the entrance of the seedy old hotel where Mrs. Oscar Reyes was scheduled to meet up with her boy-toy. Or so Mr. Reyes had informed them this morning after hacking into his wife’s Facebook account.

“Get me pictures of the bitch,” he’d said, clearing his throat when Cait had given him a narrow-eyed glare. “I won’ believe it ’til I see.”

She’d eyed his oily hair, brushy mustache, and stocky frame and wondered why he was so surprised his wife had sought the attention of a lover who called her his “mariposa rubia.”

“Blonde butterfly,” Jason had translated under his breath since Cait’s Spanish was limited to curses.

Oscar Reyes was the typical slimy client they attracted—spouses seeking ammunition for divorce court, employers wanting an employee followed for proof they hadn’t been injured badly enough to warrant workmen’s comp.

Since Oscar had already done the legwork and found cyberproof of his wife’s infidelity, Cait wondered why the hell he’d hired them to snap the shots. A $500 retainer plus their hourly fee would rack up quite a bill in no time. But she’d refrained from asking him.

The nice fat check they’d gotten from the Memphis PD for helping find her first partner’s killer and three young women who’d been kidnapped by a demon hadn’t lasted long. So she and Jason were back hustling for smaller fish.

Which reminded her again of the half-eaten pizza in the backseat.

Ready to pitch the box into the trash bin, she paused when headlights flared as a car turned onto South Front Street. A low-slung sedan stopped in front of the hotel.

Cait waited for the beams to extinguish, and then raised her camera with its night-vision lens and took a look. Just as Oscar had predicted, Sylvia Reyes stepped out of the car, her bleached-blonde hair neon bright in the viewfinder. She wore an ass-hugging mini-skirt, four-inch heels, and a top that rode the curves of her full breasts.

Cait clicked off a couple of shots of the woman entering the hotel, then reached out and backhanded Jason’s belly. “Time to move.”

“Mmm, wha’?” he said, pretending to waken from a deep sleep.

She rolled her eyes. “Like you’ve been sleeping? It’s Reyes’s wife. Let’s see if we can catch her with her boyfriend.”

“Sound grumpy.” Jason flashed her a smile. “The anchovies gettin’ to you?”

She shrugged, pretending the stench hadn’t made her slightly nauseous. “It’s your car. The smell’ll be here for a week.”

With quiet moves, they opened their doors. Cait quickly replaced the special lens and hung the camera on her shoulder before jogging to the entrance. She pushed through the grimy glass, lifted her head in a vague nod to the clerk at the reception desk, and walked to the elevators, eying the red digital numbers above the doors. There were two elevators. Only one was moving, and it stopped and held at floor three.

She elbowed past two men and a woman laden with cameras and equipment bags. One held out a device Cait thought might be a light meter, but she changed her mind when a red light beeped on the top and it clicked like a Geiger counter.

“Do you see that?” the chubby man with a Fu Manchu said, elbowing the skinny dude beside him. “We’ve got something here.”

“Told you there’s lots of activity in this old place.”

Activity? She eyed them again, read the logo on their bags, and rolled her eyes. Reel PIs: Paranormal Investigators. As if. She stuck her finger in the elevator button, doing her best to ignore the morons. She hadn’t heard so much as a whisper or a wail since she’d entered the hotel.

“Faster goin’ up the stairs,” Jason said, pulling her arm with one hand and pointing toward the stairway door. He flipped the door handle and pushed through. “After you,” he said with a flourish of his hand. His grin said he knew how much she disliked racing up three flights.

She gave him the stink-eye and started the climb. When she reached the third-floor landing, she glanced through the door’s rectangular window, saw no one in the hallway, and opened the door.

The corridor smelled as bad as it looked—urine to complement the yellowed beige walls, mildew to enhance the brown-and-green plaid carpet.

Gasping to catch her breath, she looked left, then right, and caught a flash of impossibly blonde hair a moment before Sylvia Reyes turned the corner farther down the hallway. Cait hurried after her, on the scent of a woman about to cheat on her husband. She turned the corner, entering a hallway marked by a door frame for a double door that no longer existed. The corridor was empty. No room doors along the short hall closed to indicate where their target had gone.

Jason drew up beside her, his eyebrows rising. “What now? Listen for moaning?”

Giving him a shove, she took a step past the hallway door frame, and then halted, some instinct keeping her from pushing forward. Or maybe what stopped her was the yellow police tape covering one of the doors. Not something she had time to ponder right that moment because a strange hum sounded. A bulb popped, plunging the hallway into darkness. The hairs on her arms lifted a second before electricity arced from a light switch, sending out a bolt like lightning that shot toward the ceiling, then turned, traveling toward her, hitting doorways as though searching for ground. The jagged dagger of electricity darted, then blinked out, but not before she saw a figure, one in four-inch hot pink heels, her eyes rounding in terror—a figure she could see straight through to the piss-yellow wall behind her.

Darkness took the figure. Then another hissing arc flared from the light switch, brightening the hallway again. Sylvia Reyes was gone.

Jason grabbed her arm, pulled her back around the corner, and flattened her against the wall with an elbow digging into her belly.

The white bolt flickered past the corner, then dove to the floor, sparking out with a fizzle.

“Bad wiring?” he whispered.

She shook her head, shoved away his elbow, and stepped into the hall again. The faint smell of something burning lingered in the air. The hall was once again empty. And dark.

Cait held still, listening, and then she heard the sound. A soft wail. Like a distant echo. “Hear that?” she whispered.

“No. What do you hear?”

She swallowed. “Not anyone living.”

Then the faint sound of whispers rose, maybe half a dozen voices joining in chorus. Her hand dropped to the camera at her side. She flipped off the lens cap, raised the camera, and looked through the viewfinder. Nothing out of the ordinary, other than a really sleazy flophouse. Still, she clicked off a couple of shots. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t want to wait around until she leaves? A shot of the lady kissing her boyfriend good-bye would close this case.”

Cait shook her head, not wanting to voice what she suspected. Not before she was sure of exactly what she’d seen. “No. Let’s get back to the office. I have to look at something.”

Jason knew her well enough not to ask any more questions. The fact she was cutting the surveillance short told him they had a problem.

This time they took the elevator. The sooner she got out of here the better. Well, she’d gotten what she’d wished for. Something out of the ordinary had definitely happened.

Back at the Delta Detective Agency, Cait slipped the memory card from her camera into the slot in her computer. With a couple of clicks, she found the file of pictures and opened it.

There was Sylvia Reyes outside the Deluxe, her small cat-like features coated in too much makeup, her coarse blonde hair flattened to rest limply on her shoulders. Her expression was furtive, but excitement sparkled in her dark eyes. Another shot caught her too-tight skirt hugging her J-Lo butt. Then Cait clicked on the last two shots, unsure what she might see inside the third-floor hallway. Maybe nothing. Maybe something she didn’t want to see.

The shot showed an empty hallway. The photo was blurred, but the differences between the hall’s actual appearance and what was on the computer screen was startling. Gone were the yellowed walls and crappy brown and green carpet. In its place was wallpaper—a foiled gold-and-wine-colored paisley. The carpet was a solid blood red. The fixtures—lights, switches, brass plates on the door—were shiny and new.

“Where’d you take that?” Jason asked, hovering at her shoulder.

“At the Deluxe,” she said, closing out the file. She suppressed a shiver of dread.

“No kiddin’? How come I didn’t see that?”

She didn’t dare look his way. He’d see her shock and ask more questions. Questions she didn’t have any quick answers for.

“Tacky as hell, but—”

She gave a sharp shake of her head. “That’s not the way it is.” At last, she shot an upward glance.

Jason pushed out his lips. His gaze settled on her, waiting.

She knew he wouldn’t let her up from the chair until she gave him at least a clue of what was going on in her head. “It’s the way the hotel was.”

His gaze narrowed. “What do you mean?”

She rubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t know what I mean.”

A frown dug a line between his blond-brown brows. “I don’t think Reyes is going to pay us for those shots or our time since we didn’t get what he wanted.”

“Reyes is the least of our problems,” she muttered.

Jason groaned. “It was the anchovies, right? This is your revenge?”

Her mouth tipped up into a smirk. “You think this is all about you? Poor little rich boy.”

He shook his head, grinning, but the fine lines beside his hazel eyes deepened with worry. “Since this case looks like major woo-woo is involved, you have the lead. Where to first?”

Cait grimaced. Once again, she had no doubt they were headed straight down the rabbit’s hole. “I need to talk to Sam about that taped-off room.”

* * * * *

Be sure to check out the snippets on these other authors’ blogs:

Myla Jackson

Lauren Dane

Leah Braemel

Caris Roane

Eliza Gayle

Mandy M. Roth

McKenna Jeffries

http://shilohwalker.com/website

Taige Crenshaw

Delilah Devlin

HelenKay Dimon

Felicity Heaton

TJ Michaels

Jody Wallace

Mari Carr

Guest Blogger: Allie Hawkins

THE PERFECT GIFT

Thanks, Delilah.  Since millions of blogs now exist, I found coming up with a topic for this blog a challenge.  I wanted something to do with reading.  Summers are often a bit more laid back and we’re often able to catch a few extra moments to read.  Reading is a gift we give ourselves, right?  Then I thought about sharing that gift with the love interest in our lives.   Somehow, somewhere, lightning struck.

Looking for the perfect gift for the love interest in your life?

Here’s a suggestion that never fails:  a romance novel you read together.

Whether the book is by one of your favorite authors or is a new author doesn’t matter.  What matters is setting the scene and reading the book aloud together.

Here are a few suggestions for creating the setting:

Put any/all kids who are part of your life to bed before giving your love interest the book.  (Some kids don’t go to sleep right away so make sure they’re down for the night).
Choose a comfortable place (one you both like, one conducive to reading so the hot tub may not be the best first choice).
Play mood music (preferably soft since you are going to read aloud).
Turn the lights low.  (Not so low you can’t see the words on the printed page).
Wear something that requires little effort to remove.
Add a little perfume in strategic places.
Tease out the presentation moment (“I have a gift guaranteed to blow you away.”  “I bet you’ll never guess what I want to do tonight.”  “Here’s a fantasy I’ve had for a long time.”).
Wrap the book provocatively.  (How about inside a thong under the paper wrapping?  How about with a sex toy on the paper wrapping?  How a promissory note for a good time?  How about a card you make with several suggestive ideas?).
Pour a couple of glasses of wine—or your favorite libation.
Snuggle up when each of you reads.
Read with feeling.  (One or the other of you may be better at this, but set the tone if you can).
Read slowly . . . especially those scenes with sexual tension or explicit sex).
Forget going to the bed.  When the mood strikes you both, go with it—wherever you are.
Continue reading throughout the week.

HINT #1:  Ask your love interest for a date on a specific day/night and at an agreed-upon time.  Agree to no interruptions (Unplug the telephone.  Put the cell phones in another room.  Turn off the TV.  Shut the door to the computer room).

HINT #2:  If a book you choose isn’t working, find another one.

HINT #3:  Have fun.

If you’re reading this and you know the “perfect” book for the “perfect” gift for a love interest, leave the title and author.  It’s impossible to have too many alternatives, right?

* * * * *

What if one loose thread could unravel your life?

Three years ago, Quinn Alexander put Pierce Jordan’s betrayal behind her. Now her brother needs a favor that forces her to confront her former lover. For her brother, guardian of her devastating childhood secret, Quinn will do anything—even risk falling for Pierce again.

Pierce admits he broke Quinn’s heart out of fear he’d never measure up to her ideal. He also admits Quinn’s savvy mind and generous spirit drive their successful, ongoing business relationship.  Now, realizing how much he wants her, he risks losing her forever by questioning her brother’s character.

When Quinn and Pierce uncover embezzlement, drug deals and murder, she fears for her brother, even as her attraction to Pierce grows. Which is stronger—a love renewed or loyalty unchallenged?

Commonsense told Pierce to take his time.  “You’re going to enjoy this, aren’t you?”

“After the day I’ve had,” Quinn said, “I deserve a little enjoyment.  Stand up.  Look me in the eye.”

“Do I get a blindfold?”

“No blindfold.  No cigarette.  No mercy.”  She took off her coat and tossed it on the nearest chair.

On his feet, Pierce half expected she’d roll up her sleeves and deck him.

“Repeat after me.”  She met and held his gaze.  “I, Pierce Jordan . . .”

The words had a familiar ring.  She snapped her fingers, and he repeated them in his most confident tone

“. .  do solemnly swear . . .”

He had to clear his throat twice, but finally said the phrase, asking quickly, “You sure you wouldn’t rather kick me to the curb?”

Narrowing her eyes, she continued, “. . . I am incapable of commitment to Quinn Alexander or to any other woman in the galaxy.”

His tongue flopped like a dying fish.  He swallowed three times before croaking the lie.  He watched her closely, because God save him, she was smiling and enjoying every second of this game.

“Is that it?”  Bad question—insight that came with hindsight,

“Not quite.”  She arched a brow.  “Ready?”

“Sure.  I like being flayed alive.”

“That’s a little kinky, don’t you think?”

His heart missed a couple of beats and he mentally tripped when he focused on the deep, sexy purr from the back of her throat.  God, she was . . . flirting.

“I’m into kinky.”  His tone was as cool as if he channeled Cary Grant.

“Good.  Then say, ‘I lied about Quinn’s demand for a signed-in-blood affidavit.”

“In my own defense—”

“Say it.”

“Okay.”  He spit the words out faster than bullets from an Uzi.  “Satisfied?”

She sighed.  Long and deeply.  “Best orgasm I’ve ever had.”

* * * * *

Allie Hawkins writes about mayhem, murder, sex and love in books featuring  cats who teach alpha heroes how to win a heroine’s heart.  Her alter ego, Barbara Plum, writes romantic comedies set in Silicon Valley, where both writers live—just off the fast lane.  Careers in teaching adolescent boys, developing public library programs and creating marketing materials for emerging technologies still fuel her imagination and storytelling.  Zumba keeps increasing her gray cells and giving her pleasure away from her computer.

Prince of Frogs and Queen of the Universe, contemporary romances, were published by Kensington Press in 2004 and 2005, respectively.

Presumed Guilty and Unraveled, romantic suspense novels, were published by The Wild Rose Press in 2012 and 2013.

Contact me through my website:  http://alliehawkins.com/

Author Links

http://alliehawkins.com/

http://barbaraplum.com/

https://www.facebook.com/AllieJHawkins

 

Buy Links

http://www.thewildrosepress.com/index.php?main_page=index&manufacturers_id=912&zenid=ce8c8e44558e710365b64cf05bd0a060 (Paper and eBook)

http://www.amazon.com/Unraveled-Allie-Hawkins/dp/1612175538 (Kindle and Paperback)

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/unraveled-allie-hawkins/1113959569 (Nook)

Guest Blogger: Jill Hughey

The Rules of Medieval Sex

The title Medieval Sex means sex in the Middle Ages, nothing kinkier than that, though there was plenty going on back then! I’m an author of historical romance set in Charlemagne’s Empire, specifically during the reign of Charlemagne’s son, Louis. (We should remember Louis today because his date of death happens to be June 20, 840.)

Yes, you read that right. The year 840. People have asked me why in the world I picked 9th century Europe for my romance series. The answer is that, like most romance readers, I love stories that combine aristocracy, wealth, and rules that are made to be broken, but I really wanted my characters to live somewhere other than England or Scotland, and not be quite as rustic as the Vikings.

Charlemagne’s Empire has everything a historical romance needs, including rules, especially regarding sex. There was one Christian church back then and it was steadfast in its stance that the only purpose of sexual activity was procreation. Anything done to prevent conception was considered equal to abortion. Confessors were even expected to ask whether any sort of potion to avoid children had been drunk or given to anyone else.

The only sanctioned way to avoid pregnancy was abstinence, and the church was pretty helpful with that by providing a handy calendar of the days married couples were allowed to have sex. The following is quoted directly from Daily Life in the World of Charlemagne by Pierre Riché.

…the church forbade relations between spouses during certain periods: forty days before Christmas, forty days before and eight days after Easter and eight days after Pentecost; the eve of great feasts, Sundays, Wednesday, and Fridays; during the wife’s pregnancy and until thirty days after she has given birth if it was a boy and forty days if it was a girl; during the menstrual period; five days before taking communion.

I figure that adds up to at least 200 abstinence days IF you weren’t pregnant. Husbands who broke the rule were supposed to do penance.

Wow.

Evidence suggests that the reality of sexual relationships was not quite so strict, especially for the wealthy. Emperor Louis had eight children with two different wives but also had two children with a woman off to the side. He actually showed great restraint compared to his father, Charlemagne, who had seven children from five known concubines. His first marriage really began as a concubinage too, and he had a total of thirteen legitimate children from a total of five wives, including nine babies in twelve years from the exceptionally fertile empress named Hildegard who must have died from sheer exhaustion. Two of his illegitimate children were born during this marriage also. If you aren’t supposed to have sex with your pregnant wife, what does the church think about having sex with someone who isn’t your wife and ending up with both of them pregnant at the same time? What is an emperor to do?

Here in the 21st century, all this really proves is that nothing has changed much. 1,200 years later there are still rules that are followed by some, bent by some, and absolutely ignored by those who can get away with it, and I mean this on both a societal level and a religious one.

I have to admit that I’ve skirted around the sex calendar in my books. I decided that the likelihood was pretty much zero of most men — especially men of wealth and power — consulting their datebook when succumbing to the passion of first love. Can you imagine that scene, with the hero and heroine getting busy, when the heroine says “We shouldn’t. We mustn’t. It is only twenty-eight days until Easter.”

Jill Hughey writes the Evolution Series, so far consisting of three novels and one short story, listed here in chronological order.

Unbidden

Second Love: A Short Historical Romance Story

Redeemed

Vain

Unbidden is currently only 99 cents so treat yourself to 5-star trip

to an exciting new setting for historical romance!

Find it at these links: Amazon | B&N | Smashwords | Kobo

If you’d like to follow Jill, she has a blog at http://jillhughey.blogspot.com, she is on Facebook at www.facebook.com/jillhugheyromance, and she tweets @jillhughey.

Guest Blogger: Alisa Anderson

More poetry inspired by the Erotic Romance Novella Series: Give & Receive

To celebrate the release of my first book of poetry (yes it’s finally here tomorrow, 6/20, YAY!), Erotic Edibles Vol I: Poetry inspired by the Erotic Romance Novella Series: Give & Receive, I thought I would post another poem I wrote while writing the novella series. This poem has a special meaning because along with Give & Receive, it’s also one of the first that was eventually made into a song and added to the novella soundtrack.

If I had to fit it in a timeline in regards to the novella, Lena would have written this during the five years Danny was married to Elizabeth. It speaks of love, lust, obsessive fixation, envy, coveting thy neighbor’s husband and definitely of more than just a little crazy, hence the name, Lust & Lunacy. Hell, you could flip this and it be totally about Ty’s fixation on Lena. Take your pick, lol.

And of course, admitting you have these emotions for someone else doesn’t exactly take the lust or need away, does it? Doesn’t it only makes things worse, and make you even nuttier than a fucking fruit cake for feeling all this shit? How’s that for covering all the bases of the seven deadly sins? Comes awful close, eh? People say admitting you have a problem is the first step. Um. Yeah…no. Don’t believe the hype, lol. It only makes you more aware of how fucked up you truly are. Trust me…I know.

So my question today is, has there ever been anyone who made you feel this way? Ever read about two (or three, lol) characters who have the same type of crazy connection, probably nowhere near healthy, needy, obsessive and just madder than a fucking hatter? Does anyone love Alice in Wonderland like I do? Thoughts? Ps- As an added treat (i hope) I’ve included the link to the original song from Give & Receive official soundtrack. Please, enjoy the poem…and the song! *grins*

Lust & Lunacy

I’m crying

But it’s a dirty, filthy, mean, no good cry

Cuz you’re with her…and not with me.

It’s hell times three.

I’m crying

But it’s cuz I want to touch me.

But I want you to touch me too.

And it’s so much better with we two.

Tell me the reason

It’s not time to go.

Darkness of the midnight hour is close at hand

And I want to feel your hand.

I’m longing.

But it’s the longing of the real.

Wanting you and not wanting so much being alone.

And watching a me and you film reel.

I’m so…hot for you, I guess.

Did you like how I said that?

Let me continue, I know I digress.

I’m lonely and I look at wine of reddened tint.

(Wanting to drink with you of the wine)

Ready to be embedded…Get the hint?

Don’t you want to sleep with me, my love?

Don’t you want this heaven from above?

It’s what you need, but so afraid…so afraid, are you.

I won’t bite…unless you ask me to.

Don’t you see it’s nice to be so

dirty and sexy and sweet and lowdown

and on the ground, when no one is around

but you and me?

Let me set you free…

Let me take you high…

Let me make you beg until you cry (can you cry for me?)

Let me open and guide you in (just come inside)

Let me show you how fun it is to sin

Can’t she just let me borrow you

For a little while?

I promise, if she lets you come…

Over to play, I won’t ever give you away

And I’ll keep you, locked here, in my room and

I’ll feed you cookies and

canned potato soup.

It will be enough for us.

We won’t have time for napkins and fuss

And utensils.

Hmmm…Maybe we can use the utensils.

I’ll lick some parts of you…slowly, if you want.

And I’ll let you stick some parts of you

In me.

But it can only be for forever.

Don’t be greedy…

Please won’t you stay?

And never go away

Just dance a little fuck dance with me.

You’ll have so much fun with what you see.

Scouts honor, the ties will not be severed.

I’ll give you back.

The Sunday after never.

copyright 2013 alisa Anderson

Give & Take – An Erotic Romance Novella

Book II – Give & Receive series

What would you risk, to get what you wanted ?

For Ty, Lena and Danny, they’re about to find out as they cross the boundaries from all things safe to an arena that will test love, friendship and loyalty. An arena that’s forbidden, taboo…and oh so tempting. In their world sex, money and excess are all a game of give & receive, were any wish can be granted if you just ask…

Lena Blake: Life was supposed to have gone back to normal. After all…It’s been months since that night at Sadist. Months of reliving, remembering, experiencing…each moment. Over and over again. Oh yeah, she remembered. Every. Vivid. Illicit. Detail. Like it was yesterday.  What she did. Who she did it with. ​ Her best friend. And Danny…the one who had carved out her heart years ago. There to witness it all. An act so public, so voyeuristic, so forbidden, she was still feeling the intensity between them all. The lines were crossed now.  There was no going back. Not even if she wanted to.

If she were honest she would admit she didn’t…

Tyler Malone : I knew I risked a lot doing what I did. I risked my friendship, with the one person I trusted and loved most of all, even if she can’t…or won’t see it. I played a dangerous game with Blake, too, but he either needs to step up…or step back.  I put everything on the line for just one night. And hell yeah, it was worth it. She’s worth everything. I love her just as much as he does, maybe more, since I accept everything about her, even her love for him. Life is all about the chances you take. To succeed you have to gamble. Play big…or go home. And I play to win. At all costs…

Danny Blake: Seeing her that night with Ty, watching her come undone, made me realize for the first time the life I could have. I saw her. Really saw her, body and soul, and I know now, the ache for her never truly went away. It only intensified over the years, with a need bordering on obsession. My one addiction I could never get clean of. I need her like air.

In the high stakes game of give & take, you have to risk everything.

Winner takes all…and to the victor goes the spoils.

Book II of the Erotic Romance Novella Series, Give & Receive.

“Come with me, Lena.”

“No.” Yet her fingers continued moving, unhurried and restrained as she fought for control.

“Your mouth is so warm…so wet. Take it all, baby…suck it. Just like that. I’m spilling pre-come all over my hands, Lena. It’s all for you. I wish you were here to lick it off. Why are you fighting this?”

“I’m not listening.” Her breath caught, and her fingers still continued to have a mind of their own as they slid in between the walls of her pussy, caressing her clit, sliding over the slick folds.

Traitorous sluts, her fingers. Every blasted one of the little monsters.

Couldn’t trust them worth a damn. They did whatever they wanted.

“Yes, you are. And you’re getting yourself wet with the thought of me pushing my cock into your mouth. Sucking it off for me. Tasting my come. Knowing you’re responsible for getting me this way. You’re enjoying the control and you should, love. I know from experience. It’s a heady trip, isn’t it?”

He heard her breathing increase in pace over the phone.

“Would it be so wrong to admit, just this once, I turn you on? That this, whatever it is, gets you off?” Ty’s voice strained as he struggled to manage his emotions. If he could wait just a little bit longer, he knew it would be big. He knew she was ready to break soon. He wanted to be there with her. Every step of the way.

“Fine. You turn me on. This. Turns me on. Ridiculously. Satisfied?” Lena felt her nipples harden through her shirt and she had to feel them under her palm. She twisted her left nipple, painfully, maliciously and she whimpered out loud. Not enough. Like an itch she couldn’t scratch, her fingers, her hands…weren’t enough.

She needed him.

“Tell me what you taste like. Tell me now.” Her voice was low…sexy personified, deep, as she pinched her clit and shivered at the light sting.

“Salty…sweet, slightly bitter. Just like you said. How did you know?”

Lena gave a dark, husky laugh full of promise. It made his balls draw up and tighten as his cock continued to pulse and throb under his tutelage.

“I’m just that good.”

“Modest too.”

She had to take a breath before she answered. Liquid heat ran down her thighs as she caught another breath before answering.

“Oh come now, love. Modesty is for people who can’t deliver the goods. And we both know that’s not true, don’t we?” She savored the exquisite torture of her fingers, now thoroughly wet and buried deep inside her pussy.

“It’s too bad you’re not here with me, Ty.” Lena’s voice became breathy as she stroked her clit with increased rhythm. She was wild with need now, beyond caring about anything but how she felt, how gloriously, amazingly wanton she felt.

“Do you know what I would do if you were? I would straddle you between my breasts. Sliding that big, thick cock up and down, getting slick with all that come. Lapping up every bit of spill from your thighs and your chest. Making my nipples slippery with your come. Rubbing myself all over you. And then…are you still with me, gorgeous? I would sink down on top of that hard stick of yours and take you inside. I’m so tight, Ty. Can you feel how tight I am?”

“Sweet fuck you are tight. It’s like I almost can’t fit.”

“I’ve done my pussy push-ups, Ty. So glad you noticed.”

“Pussy push-ups? Oh god. I can’t. Ahahaha…Please stop.” Ty’s laughter sounded gravelly and painful as he struggled not to pass out. Only she could make him laugh at the same time he wanted to fuck her into oblivion. She would find every live wire on him triggered to detonate at her slightest touch. She really would be that fucking good.

Damn her infuriating ass, straight to hell. She thought she had this all under control, didn’t she?

Clearly he needed to shake some things up again.

Ty managed to zip up his pants and grinned to himself, opening the car door and glancing around, making sure no one saw him running up the steps to her front door. He grabbed the spare, unlocking her front door and letting himself in.

 

She started stroking herself, faster, harder, pinching her clit just a little, her breathing ragged. “Oh shit…” Lena murmured, and began to pant. “Get me off, Ty. I need you.”

She didn’t even hear him approach. “I would be glad to.”

Lena screamed out loud.

Available NOW…Buy books I & II together and save: Buy at Amazon

Get the soundtrack at Amazon

 

Bio:

(transposed to the third person to appear more mature *grins cheerfully*)

well…alisa did stuff and is still doing stuff. only now she has two boys crazy enuff to want her as their mommy. hey, at least she tried to warn them, so her job is done. she doesn’t like to capitalize, partially because she likes how lower case letters look visually, but mostly out of laziness. please don’t judge. it could be you. and she would say, hey. you’re alright, buddy. you’re ok in my book. now c’mere for a hug. the hug might be pushing it. air kiss? you are strangers, after all, with only a mutual love of poor grammar.

she lives for a world full of controllable anatomically correct, android men programmed to meet her specific feminine needs (wink, wink, nudge, nudge with a big waggle of the eyebrows). who look like the rock. and ian somerhalder. and idris elba. and that’s it she promises. variety. gotta have variety, right?

but alas…apparently that exists only in johanna lindsey’s genius mind. so until then, she enjoys her incredibly warped sense of humor. she reads tons of erotica and romantic, drippy goo that makes her heart go pitter patter. then she thought, hey. what, she said to herself. (softly, of course, so no one finds out she is indeed, 2 nuts short of a fruitcake) maybe you should write this stuff too. maybe someone will like it and maybe buy it. so she said, huh, you think? then she said, well…yeah, i wouldn’t have suggested it…(inserts sarcastic tone) and then she was like lose the attitude, ok? then she was all, would you just shut up and write, already? sheesh! and she did.

Alisa Anderson

http://www.amazon.com/Give-Receive-Romance-Novella-ebook/dp/B00D0SVYIG

http://www.houseofalisa.com

http://www.amazon.com/Alisa-Anderson/e/B009IEA6A8

http://www.alisaanderson.wordpress.com

http://www.facebook.com/AlisaAndersonBooks

https://twitter.com/bitchesbewritin  

TODAY–Twice the Bang & Crescent Moon, Episode 2!

I’m so excited! Two releases are happening today! For those of you following the countdown, I’ll post the name of the gift certificate winner tonight! But for now…

Twice the Bang is here!

If you want to read an excerpt, check out yesterday’s blog, otherwise, you can buy it at Samhain or Amazon and all the usual places you buy your ebooks! After you read it, I would greatly appreciate you leaving a review on one of those sites to let other readers know about your experience. Readers like seeing what other folks have to say before making their buying decisions, so your opinion is important!

Meet Juste Henry Boucher of Crescent Moon!

The second installment releases today! I’m incredibly excited to see what you think of my hero. He’s got his own issues and meeting Khepri only complicates his life. Again, after you’ve read it, I’d love for you to leave a review. And if you’d help spread the word to your online friends, you’d be doing me a huge favor. This book is the story that will keep on giving. Pay for it once, and you get a new episode every two weeks!

If you haven’t already purchased the book, here’s the link: Crescent Moon

1 Day to Go! (Contest!)

TWICE the Bang!

Just one more day! Sometime after midnight tonight, Twice the Bang will release! I can’t wait to hear what you think! But if you haven’t read any of the books in the series all you have to do is read through the excerpts. They are a very good hint of what’s to come! I think you’ll get the picture. Sexy, naughty stories—a dirty girl’s favorite fantasies… That’s what Delta Heat’s all about. I have just one book left to write in the series—Mondo’s happy-ever-after. I’m not sure what he needs. I’ll have to give it a little thought. Maybe you have some suggestions…?

In the meantime, I’ll go through today and start picking winners for the first three days of the countdown. There’s still time if you don’t see notes at the top of those blogs naming winners! Here’s the rules…

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate. (Obviously today, there is no prequel book to give away, so I’ll offer any of the first three books to today’s lucky winner.)

Who says it’s better to share your toys?

Beau McIntyre has had his eye on Pansy Patton for a while. But after their friends’ coming out party—where Pansy wears nothing but a sexy smile—Beau isn’t the only one jockeying for the best view of her pretty backside. Realizing it was a mistake to opt for a drawn-out seduction, Beau plans on staking his claim.

Billy Sorenson knows he’s out of his league with a submissive like Pansy, but it was lust at first sight. Now he’ll do whatever it takes to have her, even if he has to be penciled into her schedule for equal time.

A smoking-hot firefighter with ice-blue eyes, or a mysterious cop…what’s a girl to do? Pansy has the answer: refuse to choose and savor the consequences of both men pursuing her.

Doe she expect her lovers to play fair? Oh, no. She’s hoping they’ll play dirty. Real dirty…

Warning: Contains m/f/m and f/f/m scenes, paintball and other sexy ball games, flogging, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING UNLESS YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18!!

Billy’s fists curled at his sides. What the hell? He knew this was a posture subs took to signal their willingness to obey, but he was no Dom. Not some poser who needed a woman to call him Sir in order to get a hard-on.

He’d seen how Aiden treated Jenn that once in the gym of the firehouse. He’d winced as he’d called her a slut, felt shame for the arousal her tearfully rendered obedience had coaxed.

The last thing he wanted was to lay a harsh hand on Pansy’s pretty, creamy skin. He didn’t want her crying, didn’t want anything but moans and maybe a scream, but he’d never get her there if he didn’t play first. He wasn’t sure he had what it took.

Something that didn’t seem to concern his cock because it surged inside his pants, crowding his fly. “I’m not a Dom, Pansy.”

“No, you aren’t. I could see that at Aiden’s.” But she didn’t rise, didn’t lift her head.

“I’m not sure I can give you what you need…”

“Just tell me what you want,” she whispered. “Anything. I’ll do it.”

Billy wanted so many things, but the first thing that popped into his mind, perhaps because her tongue stroked her bottom lip right that second, was her lush, plump mouth consuming his cock.

Swallowing to wet his dry throat, he took a deep breath and then reached down to tip up her chin.

Looking at her reinforced his impression of her fragility. Pansy was small, something he forgot because of her brazen demeanor and the saucy tilt of her chin. Her pretty blue eyes were large in a face that was shaped like a triangle—wide cheeks, a small pointed chin. Her plump, wide mouth was large in comparison, and his gaze stopped there.

“Pansy, I want…”

Her eyes glittered, gaze locking with his. “Anything, Billy…”

“I want your mouth on me,” he growled.

She offered him a smile and then rose on her knees to come closer. Reaching for his belt, she made quick work of the latch of his belt and the button at his waist, but she stopped to glance upward as she gripped the tongue of the zipper and slowly slid it down.

He stared hard, fixated on her hands.

Rather than reaching immediately inside his pants, she gripped the waistband and pulled them down his hips to his thighs, baring his cock and his balls completely.

He’d seen the way Aiden seemed able to control his arousal, keeping his cock lax until he had his subs where he wanted them.

But Billy had no such self-control. His intense interest was there for Pansy to see. Fully erect, straining toward his belly. The skin was stretched so tight around his cock he felt ready to burst. And his balls, Jesus, if she touched them now…

Pansy raked her fingernails up his thighs, causing his cock to jump in anticipation of a painful scratch. She laughed softly then leaned closer, rubbing her cheek on his shaft, turning her head to glide her mouth on him—sexy to watch but not nearly enough action. She was moving alarmingly slowly. He didn’t think he’d have the self-control to keep from striping her face with his come. All it would take was one stroke of her wet tongue.

Billy growled and thrust his fingers into her short, pale hair. He tilted her head, just so, then gripped his cock and fed himself into her mouth. “No more playing,” he said. “Suck it.”

She gave a garbled moan but began suctioning, her teeth and tongue raking his sensitive flesh as he fed more and more of his thick cock into her pretty, hot mouth.

When her lips met his fingers, he clamped both hands around her head and held her still as he took charge, fucking her mouth, pushing inside and withdrawing, then pushing a little deeper, making sure she understood she’d be taking every damn inch. She’d teased him past any scruples he’d had about moving too fast and too hard for her.

Pansy wanted a man to call the shots. Well, she’d be licking up every drop of his.

Not that she didn’t seem completely into it as her eyelids drifted dreamily up and down and her mouth suctioned harder and harder all around him. When he butted up against the back of her throat, she swallowed and then eased open her jaws and took him all the way inside.

He’d never had a woman deep-throat him, and now he understood the attraction as he stroked in steady plunges. Her throat squeezed around his corona, rubbing the ridge forward and back, and fuck if he could wait a minute longer.

He pulled free and wrapped his thumb and forefinger around the base of his cock, tightening and holding still until the urge to shoot receded.

Pansy’s hands were still on his thighs. Her gaze was locked on the length of him, red and jutting, wet from her saliva. She dropped her hands, turned on her knees and crept away, her bottom swaying side-to-side. When she halted, she tipped up her ass then glanced over one shoulder, meeting his gaze with another of her sassy looks, one brow raised.

And Lord, her pussy was right there for him to see. Red, swollen, slick with her juices. All his, if he could make his feet work and his body not betray him by ejaculating before he managed to get a condom rolled down his length.

Beau leaned back against the cool door. “Do you have any idea how hard this is for me?”

“I think I do. You were all the way down my throat,” she said, her voice a soft, hoarse purr.

“I’m not a kid. I don’t come in my pants, but fuck, Pansy…” He ringed himself tighter and shut his eyes, because her bottom was a round, juicy peach, the sides split open to show him exactly what was his to take.

At last, he let go, calling on his pride. With slow movements, he toed off his boots and socks and stepped out of his pants, but not before removing the condom packet tucked into a pocket. Tearing the plastic with his teeth, he didn’t take his gaze from her avid stare, rolling the condom down his shaft. Then he knelt and crawled to her, knuckles sinking in the brown carpet.

Her knees spread. Her back sank. Her feminine openings beckoned, and he sat back on his haunches to fill his hands with the lush bounty of her ass. His fingers sank in softness and he rotated the globes.

Her chest fell to the carpet, and she moved side-to-side, likely rubbing her nipples on the short shag. Nipples he wanted in his mouth, between his teeth, but he wasn’t letting go of her. Wouldn’t turn her now.

Bending, he bit one globe then the other. Then buried his nose and mouth in her moist folds, inhaling because her musk lured him. He breathed her sea-fresh scent in then sucked at her folds, tasting and groaning because the tangy flavor of her made his cock pulse. Thumbing open her folds, he licked at the moisture seeping from inside her, trailed the edges of her delicate inner lips and swirled inside her entrance. He watched as she snuck a hand between her legs and pulled at her folds to expose her clit. He took her hint and tapped it with his tongue, then swirled on the hardening knot until she groaned and her thighs trembled.

Sure she was nearly as crazy with lust as he was, he backed away, his hands cupping her ass again, holding her still as he nudged his cock against her slit, and then sank an inch inside, just enough that she took the broad cap.

Her pussy clasped around him, making a moist, sucking sound, and he nearly smiled because the sensation wasn’t so different from the first moment he’d pushed inside her mouth.

Billy glided one hand around her hip and spread his fingers to cup her taut lower belly, while he slowly pushed deeper into her channel.

Fluid seeped around him, inner muscles clenched and rippled. He pressed on her tummy and her pussy tightened, clamping down on him.

“Please, Billy. Please,” she whispered, swaying again, rubbing those pretty tits against his carpet to build friction.

Friction he was about to double as he began to move inside her, flexing his buttocks to push forward, withdrawing slowly until just the tip of his cock remained at her entrance. He continued the slow push and pull until her hands reached out and bunched in the carpet, and her ass pushed back to take him deeper.

“Want it harder?” he growled.

“Fuck, yeah.”

“Want it fast?”

“Please, please, please,” she said, squealing at the last word as he tunneled hard inside and began to glide in faster strokes, in and out.

She was wet, her channel fully juiced and hot through the latex. He churned in her moist heat, jerking his hips to surprise her with quick, hard stabs, and then changed it up to offer smoother thrusts.

She loved it all, pumping her hips, the muscles of her arms and shoulders bunching as she shoved backward to meet his strokes.

Billy loved watching her narrow back, the indent of her spine, the jiggle of her buttocks as he hammered her.

For this moment, all her lush feminine frame was fully his—to use, to forget himself inside. So much better than his own fist. She gave him as good as he gave her but with surprises that kept him thinking.

Like the sexy clasps her pussy gave him, not rhythmic at all. Purposeful clenching that slowed him up because he wanted to savor the sensation, and then easing off so he could redouble his efforts. She made soft grunting sounds as she squeezed and she moaned as she relaxed. Not like anything he’d ever experienced with another woman. Almost like she was exercising her inner muscles.

But he didn’t like the fact she thought she could control the speed of his thrusts with her sexy inner workout. He wanted her desperate and unable to do any thinking at all.

He halted his motions and pulled out halfway.

She squeezed around him and then pushed up to glare over her shoulder, a question in her narrowed eyes.

Billy smiled, lifted a hand and smacked one side of her soft ass. Not hard, because he didn’t want to leave a mark, he just wanted her attention.

Her mouth opened around a sharp gasp. “Billy?”

2 Days to Go! (Contest)

A Perfect TRIfecta!

We’re already at the third book in this series. And what a sequel it is. I get more reader mail for this one than the others. Truth be told, this story worried me because it was all about the sex. I told my loopies before it released that the book’s a total fuckfest. Guess y’all like nasty, nonstop passion.

Here’s the commercial again—that is, what the contest is all about. Stick around for tomorrow when I’ll share a scene from TWICE THE BANG. And remember, it’s ready for pre-order now! Here’s the link: Twice the Bang

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate.

Playing with pain can put you in a world of hurt…or bliss.

Playing switch in front of a La Forge BDSM club audience was supposed to be a one-time fling. A favor for a friend. Instead, when Craig Eason realizes he’s caught the attention of an enigmatic, powerful Dom across the crowded room, he senses this could be the man he’s been looking for to test the boundaries of his own sexuality.

Firefighter Aiden Byrne is a very private man with strong S&M longings he keeps in check for everyone else’s safety. His sub, Jennifer Callum, thinks she likes it rough, but he can’t let go the way he’d like to. Until one defiant stare from the handsome cop on the La Forge stage causes Aiden’s most dangerous needs to uncoil from the deepest, darkest part of his soul.

With the blessing—and active involvement—of his sub, a seduction is set in motion that ends in a scene that shakes them all to the core…

Product Warnings: Contains a powerful, burly firefighter who plans to take everything a hot cop thinks he knows about himself and send it up in smoke. Please replace the batteries in all your smoke detectors before reading this book. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/m, spanking, flogging, restraints, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING UNLESS YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18!!

Craig hadn’t known he needed that reassurance until it was given. Be free. It sounded so simple. He’d explore what was here. Figure it out as they went forward. Or not. Everything depended on what lay in store for him inside the private room.

He rapped his knuckles against the door. It opened. Jenn stood in the doorframe completely nude. Her body gleamed with oil. Her skin was flushed pink and her eyes were lazily roaming his body. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He’d considered stripping in the changing room and entering the salon naked, but hadn’t wanted to be waylaid by anyone looking for a player. Not tonight. So he was still in his jeans and tee. “I came straight here,” he said, not looking beyond her happy smile to see if Aiden was in the room.

She stepped back and gave a wave of her hand. “I’m already prepped. Had a massage. Aiden likes to arrive after everyone’s ready.” She glanced up to the camera in the corner and gave a little wave.

So Aiden was watching. Without him even in the room, Craig tensed. “Did he leave instructions?”

“I’m to get you ready. Lube you up,” she said, biting her bottom lip to hold back her smile. “If you have no objections.”

“It’s not my place to object,” he said softly. He strode past her, shut the door, then stood still while she began to strip him, bending first to remove his sneakers and socks, then kneeling to unbuckle his belt and slide it free.

When she unbuttoned his denims, she glanced up and gave him a quick smile. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before—“

“Or blown it,” he muttered.

She arched a brow. “But it does feel different, doesn’t it?”

He swallowed hard as she lifted his cock out of his pants. She opened her mouth and gobbled him down while at the same time reaching blindly to shove his trousers off his hips.

She had orders. She was to blow him, get him hard, but was she going to finish him so he’d have greater stamina the second time around, or just tease him? Another thought flitted through his mind. Did Aiden like what he could see of his cock?

Jenn worked his pants down to his ankles while she continued to tug his penis into full erection. Her hot, wet mouth consumed him, sucking hard, dragging backward as his cock quickly filled.

He stepped out of his pants, then raised his shirt and flung it out of reach. He dug his fingers deep into her hair. “Be free”, Mondo had advised. Well, right now, his first impulse was to give Jenn a little domination. Although she was every bit as adept at playing switch as he was, she was at heart a needy sub. He knew this well. Sinking his fingers into her silky black hair, he raked his nails against her scalp.

She moaned around him, angling her head side to side like a cat looking to have every inch of her scalp scratched. He dug in his nails, giving her a vigorous scoring while he began to rock forward and back, fucking her lush mouth.

Jenn Callum was beautiful woman, as pretty as any he’d ever been with. The sight of her on her knees, servicing him, her mouth growing swollen and red while he shafted her, fed the primal male inside him. He clamped his hands around her head to hold her still and stroked deep, forcing her to ease the constriction at the back of her throat and let him deepen his thrusts.

Conscious of the camera, he threw back his head and closed his eyes, willing Aiden to watch. Hoping Aiden would be drawn to halt him, but at the same time wanting to blow his wad inside her. But that would be too easy.

He stilled his movements, waiting for her to blink those pretty, gray cat eyes open.

When she did, he murmured, “Does he want me to come?”

Her eyes widened, and she gave a shallow shake of her head.

He sighed and withdrew his cock despite the fact he ached for release. “What next?”

Licking her lips, Jenn reached up a hand, and he helped her to her feet.

“I’m to give you a massage.”

Craig ground his jaw. He didn’t want to take this slowly. Didn’t have the patience for a long tease. But he followed her to a padded table.

When he was stretched on his back, she climbed over him, reached into a drawer at the side and snagged a bottle of oil. She gave him a small smile, then tilted the bottle toward her chest and streamed liquid over her breasts before setting it back inside the drawer. Then she bent over Craig and rubbed the oil covering her chest onto his. She started at his shoulders and worked her way down, scooting her spread thighs and leaving a wet trail of arousal on his lower belly, moving along the ridge of his thick cock and then lower still. Climbing off the table, she grabbed the edge of the platform, and he understood, bending his knees to keep his legs on the table while she pushed to shorten the table and lifted two stirrups.

He gave a rumbling growl but didn’t balk when she fit his heels into the stirrups and opened his legs. When she gripped his cock and pulled it down to fit it between her breasts, he cursed. “That’s one of my triggers,” he warned.

She bit her lower lip and smiled. “I know.” With her hands pushing her tits together to hold him, she moved up and down, gliding on his cock.

Watching her, his body grew rigid. Each time she lowered herself, the head of his cock disappeared, only to peek back from between her mounds, the cap growing redder and redder as she warmed his shaft. Such a beautiful sight, her round breasts cupping him. The sensations of her soft, slick skin gliding up and down his shaft made his balls hard as stones. He imagined how she’d look if he came right this second, come spurting on her chest and chin.

Air hissed between his teeth. “Blow it or let me shoot. But damn, girl. I’m not gonna last.”

Her head tilted, eyes slanting as she peeked into the high corner of the room, flirting with Aiden from beneath her lashes and sliding her tongue along the lush pout of her mouth. Craig cursed and reached down, ringing the base of his cock to regain his control.

Jenn dropped her hands from her breasts and pushed her hair back, then bent over his cock and rubbed those full lips around the head, her tongue swabbing him over and over before engulfing him again.

The snick of the lock sounded. Craig didn’t dare look back. Instead, he cupped Jenn’s chin and slid his thumb into her mouth to open her jaw and pull her off him. “That’s enough,” he said softly, but firmly.

“She’s a brat,” came a warm, deep rumble. “She didn’t finish what I asked her to do. I’ll have to see to her punishment.”

Jenn gave Craig a surreptitious wink but ducked her head and moved away from the end of the table.

“Kneel beside the bench, Jenn. I’ll take care of you in a little bit.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice soft but devoid of any contrition.

When Aiden strode within his sight, Craig’s balls drew closer to his groin. The Dom was dressed in leather pants, but his chest was bare. His dark hair was wet as though he’d just showered, and it stood in sexy spikes around his head. His gaze slid over Craig’s body, no interest betrayed, just a clinical perusal as he came around the end of the table.

He slid open the side drawer and pulled out a tube of lubricant.

Craig dragged in a ragged breath. Now was the point of no return. He was either in or out, because Aiden’s neutral mask didn’t go so far as to disguise the challenge in his gaze.

Aiden twisted off the cap and squeezed a generous dollop of clear gel onto his index finger.

“Any limits you want me to know about? Anything off-limits?”

Craig had never renewed the release he’d originally filled out for the club. He hadn’t known enough then to list any don’ts. And since then, he hadn’t found anything he feared or that made him so uncomfortable he might balk. “I’ll let you lead,” he said, keeping his tone even.

“Your word?”

“Popsicle.”

Aiden arched a brow.

Craig lifted his shoulders. “I like them.”

Aiden gave a curt nod, then dropped his gaze. His nostrils flared just a fraction. His breathing slowed.

Craig couldn’t help the little jerk his cock made. It was already pulsing, and a dribble of pre-come had leaked from the eyelet hole.

Aiden’s smoldering gaze rose and locked with Craig’s for a long moment. “Keep your balls shaved.”

Craig drew in a quick, sharp breath. Sounded like tonight wouldn’t be the one and only time they played together. “I will,” he said, answering the unspoken question—yes, he was willing to sub for Aiden again.

Aiden narrowed his eyes.

Now wasn’t the time to push back. This was an interview. Not the place for him to tempt punishment. Aiden needed to know he was willing to submit, that he wasn’t just playing. “I will, Sir,” he said softly.

Aiden’s jaw tensed. “Raise your knees and clasp them. I need access to your asshole.”

The words were blunt. A hot flush spilled across Craig’s cheeks, but he did as ordered, raising his knees and grabbing them to fold his legs against his chest.

Fingers spread his cheeks. A rough pad scraped his hole, then circled it. Lube melted against the heat. Lord, he could barely wait to feel that thick digit sink inside. He wanted to ask for it. But he held still. Kept silent. He lowered his gaze to Aiden’s chest and waited, barely breathing.

Aiden’s breaths were a little shorter, tension evident in the tightening of the thick muscles.

He pressed his finger against the opening, gently and pushed inside.

Craig closed his eyes. Afraid he was going to come on the spot.

“Open your eyes.”

Craig obeyed without hesitating, but knew a little of his desperation had to be showing in his expression.

Aiden’s eyelids dipped sexily down. His mouth curved slightly. He sank the finger deeper, then twisted, rubbing lube around Craig’s entrance, stretching the ring of muscles until it burned.

Sweet fuck, it felt good. “Permission to speak…” Craig gritted out.

Aiden pulled out, then glided back inside. “Permission given.”

“I’m close, Sir.”

“I know. But you won’t come.”

“Can I ring myself, Sir?”

“No choking allowed. That would be cheating.” Aiden dug deep, then leaned over him, his chest touching the end of Craig’s dick. “You know how this works. You’re not a virgin.”

Craig grimaced. “Don’t know if I can hold back.”

“If you don’t, we’re done.”

Something inside Craig went cold. Was Aiden bluffing? Didn’t he want this as much as Craig did? Would he really cut him off before they had a chance to explore each other?

“You done with the questions?”

Craig gave a crisp nod. Then he reached beside himself and curved his fingers around the edge of the padded table and dug in.

Aiden withdrew, picked up the lube and coated three of his fingers.

Craig started to sweat. His ass wasn’t sore yet, but it would be. And he couldn’t wait. God, he couldn’t. Not another second.

But the moment Aiden worked the tips inside him, carefully stretching him with slow nudges, Craig knew he had to wait. No way could he end this before he’d known what it was like to have Aiden covering him from behind, jerking into him. God, and if Jenn was sucking his cock at the same time, he’d die on the spot.

The image was impossible to blink away. His gaze rose to Aiden’s and locked. Did Aiden know what he was thinking? Did Aiden want the same thing? Or was this going to be a big mindfuck? A power play? See how far he could get the cop to go for a little head?

Aiden pulled his fingers free and walked toward the sink in the cabinets that lined the wall. Craig sank against the table, breathing deeply. He covered his eyes with his forearm, trying to gather his wits and his control. They’d barely started, and he was already so tense and starting to get scared he wasn’t going to cut it.

Why it was suddenly so important, he didn’t want to examine. He already knew deep inside this wasn’t some scene. Wasn’t something rehearsed or just play. This was as real as it got, and Craig didn’t do real.

But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he wanted it to be. Desperately so.

3 Days to Go! (Contest)

A Perfect TRIfecta!

We’re already at the third book in this series. And what a sequel it is. I get more reader mail for this one than the others. Truth be told, this story worried me because it was all about the sex. I told my loopies before it released that the book’s a total fuckfest. Guess y’all like nasty, nonstop passion.

Here’s the commercial again—that is, what the contest is all about. Stick around for tomorrow when I’ll share a scene from TWICE THE BANG. And remember, it’s ready for pre-order now! Here’s the link: Twice the Bang

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate.

Playing with pain can put you in a world of hurt…or bliss.

Playing switch in front of a La Forge BDSM club audience was supposed to be a one-time fling. A favor for a friend. Instead, when Craig Eason realizes he’s caught the attention of an enigmatic, powerful Dom across the crowded room, he senses this could be the man he’s been looking for to test the boundaries of his own sexuality.

Firefighter Aiden Byrne is a very private man with strong S&M longings he keeps in check for everyone else’s safety. His sub, Jennifer Callum, thinks she likes it rough, but he can’t let go the way he’d like to. Until one defiant stare from the handsome cop on the La Forge stage causes Aiden’s most dangerous needs to uncoil from the deepest, darkest part of his soul.

With the blessing—and active involvement—of his sub, a seduction is set in motion that ends in a scene that shakes them all to the core…

Product Warnings: Contains a powerful, burly firefighter who plans to take everything a hot cop thinks he knows about himself and send it up in smoke. Please replace the batteries in all your smoke detectors before reading this book. Contains scenes with m/m/f, m/m, spanking, flogging, restraints, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING UNLESS YOU ARE OVER THE AGE OF 18!!

Craig hadn’t known he needed that reassurance until it was given. Be free. It sounded so simple. He’d explore what was here. Figure it out as they went forward. Or not. Everything depended on what lay in store for him inside the private room.

He rapped his knuckles against the door. It opened. Jenn stood in the doorframe completely nude. Her body gleamed with oil. Her skin was flushed pink and her eyes were lazily roaming his body. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He’d considered stripping in the changing room and entering the salon naked, but hadn’t wanted to be waylaid by anyone looking for a player. Not tonight. So he was still in his jeans and tee. “I came straight here,” he said, not looking beyond her happy smile to see if Aiden was in the room.

She stepped back and gave a wave of her hand. “I’m already prepped. Had a massage. Aiden likes to arrive after everyone’s ready.” She glanced up to the camera in the corner and gave a little wave.

So Aiden was watching. Without him even in the room, Craig tensed. “Did he leave instructions?”

“I’m to get you ready. Lube you up,” she said, biting her bottom lip to hold back her smile. “If you have no objections.”

“It’s not my place to object,” he said softly. He strode past her, shut the door, then stood still while she began to strip him, bending first to remove his sneakers and socks, then kneeling to unbuckle his belt and slide it free.

When she unbuttoned his denims, she glanced up and gave him a quick smile. “It’s not like I haven’t seen your dick before—“

“Or blown it,” he muttered.

She arched a brow. “But it does feel different, doesn’t it?”

He swallowed hard as she lifted his cock out of his pants. She opened her mouth and gobbled him down while at the same time reaching blindly to shove his trousers off his hips.

She had orders. She was to blow him, get him hard, but was she going to finish him so he’d have greater stamina the second time around, or just tease him? Another thought flitted through his mind. Did Aiden like what he could see of his cock?

Jenn worked his pants down to his ankles while she continued to tug his penis into full erection. Her hot, wet mouth consumed him, sucking hard, dragging backward as his cock quickly filled.

He stepped out of his pants, then raised his shirt and flung it out of reach. He dug his fingers deep into her hair. “Be free”, Mondo had advised. Well, right now, his first impulse was to give Jenn a little domination. Although she was every bit as adept at playing switch as he was, she was at heart a needy sub. He knew this well. Sinking his fingers into her silky black hair, he raked his nails against her scalp.

She moaned around him, angling her head side to side like a cat looking to have every inch of her scalp scratched. He dug in his nails, giving her a vigorous scoring while he began to rock forward and back, fucking her lush mouth.

Jenn Callum was beautiful woman, as pretty as any he’d ever been with. The sight of her on her knees, servicing him, her mouth growing swollen and red while he shafted her, fed the primal male inside him. He clamped his hands around her head to hold her still and stroked deep, forcing her to ease the constriction at the back of her throat and let him deepen his thrusts.

Conscious of the camera, he threw back his head and closed his eyes, willing Aiden to watch. Hoping Aiden would be drawn to halt him, but at the same time wanting to blow his wad inside her. But that would be too easy.

He stilled his movements, waiting for her to blink those pretty, gray cat eyes open.

When she did, he murmured, “Does he want me to come?”

Her eyes widened, and she gave a shallow shake of her head.

He sighed and withdrew his cock despite the fact he ached for release. “What next?”

Licking her lips, Jenn reached up a hand, and he helped her to her feet.

“I’m to give you a massage.”

Craig ground his jaw. He didn’t want to take this slowly. Didn’t have the patience for a long tease. But he followed her to a padded table.

When he was stretched on his back, she climbed over him, reached into a drawer at the side and snagged a bottle of oil. She gave him a small smile, then tilted the bottle toward her chest and streamed liquid over her breasts before setting it back inside the drawer. Then she bent over Craig and rubbed the oil covering her chest onto his. She started at his shoulders and worked her way down, scooting her spread thighs and leaving a wet trail of arousal on his lower belly, moving along the ridge of his thick cock and then lower still. Climbing off the table, she grabbed the edge of the platform, and he understood, bending his knees to keep his legs on the table while she pushed to shorten the table and lifted two stirrups.

He gave a rumbling growl but didn’t balk when she fit his heels into the stirrups and opened his legs. When she gripped his cock and pulled it down to fit it between her breasts, he cursed. “That’s one of my triggers,” he warned.

She bit her lower lip and smiled. “I know.” With her hands pushing her tits together to hold him, she moved up and down, gliding on his cock.

Watching her, his body grew rigid. Each time she lowered herself, the head of his cock disappeared, only to peek back from between her mounds, the cap growing redder and redder as she warmed his shaft. Such a beautiful sight, her round breasts cupping him. The sensations of her soft, slick skin gliding up and down his shaft made his balls hard as stones. He imagined how she’d look if he came right this second, come spurting on her chest and chin.

Air hissed between his teeth. “Blow it or let me shoot. But damn, girl. I’m not gonna last.”

Her head tilted, eyes slanting as she peeked into the high corner of the room, flirting with Aiden from beneath her lashes and sliding her tongue along the lush pout of her mouth. Craig cursed and reached down, ringing the base of his cock to regain his control.

Jenn dropped her hands from her breasts and pushed her hair back, then bent over his cock and rubbed those full lips around the head, her tongue swabbing him over and over before engulfing him again.

The snick of the lock sounded. Craig didn’t dare look back. Instead, he cupped Jenn’s chin and slid his thumb into her mouth to open her jaw and pull her off him. “That’s enough,” he said softly, but firmly.

“She’s a brat,” came a warm, deep rumble. “She didn’t finish what I asked her to do. I’ll have to see to her punishment.”

Jenn gave Craig a surreptitious wink but ducked her head and moved away from the end of the table.

“Kneel beside the bench, Jenn. I’ll take care of you in a little bit.”

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice soft but devoid of any contrition.

When Aiden strode within his sight, Craig’s balls drew closer to his groin. The Dom was dressed in leather pants, but his chest was bare. His dark hair was wet as though he’d just showered, and it stood in sexy spikes around his head. His gaze slid over Craig’s body, no interest betrayed, just a clinical perusal as he came around the end of the table.

He slid open the side drawer and pulled out a tube of lubricant.

Craig dragged in a ragged breath. Now was the point of no return. He was either in or out, because Aiden’s neutral mask didn’t go so far as to disguise the challenge in his gaze.

Aiden twisted off the cap and squeezed a generous dollop of clear gel onto his index finger.

“Any limits you want me to know about? Anything off-limits?”

Craig had never renewed the release he’d originally filled out for the club. He hadn’t known enough then to list any don’ts. And since then, he hadn’t found anything he feared or that made him so uncomfortable he might balk. “I’ll let you lead,” he said, keeping his tone even.

“Your word?”

“Popsicle.”

Aiden arched a brow.

Craig lifted his shoulders. “I like them.”

Aiden gave a curt nod, then dropped his gaze. His nostrils flared just a fraction. His breathing slowed.

Craig couldn’t help the little jerk his cock made. It was already pulsing, and a dribble of pre-come had leaked from the eyelet hole.

Aiden’s smoldering gaze rose and locked with Craig’s for a long moment. “Keep your balls shaved.”

Craig drew in a quick, sharp breath. Sounded like tonight wouldn’t be the one and only time they played together. “I will,” he said, answering the unspoken question—yes, he was willing to sub for Aiden again.

Aiden narrowed his eyes.

Now wasn’t the time to push back. This was an interview. Not the place for him to tempt punishment. Aiden needed to know he was willing to submit, that he wasn’t just playing. “I will, Sir,” he said softly.

Aiden’s jaw tensed. “Raise your knees and clasp them. I need access to your asshole.”

The words were blunt. A hot flush spilled across Craig’s cheeks, but he did as ordered, raising his knees and grabbing them to fold his legs against his chest.

Fingers spread his cheeks. A rough pad scraped his hole, then circled it. Lube melted against the heat. Lord, he could barely wait to feel that thick digit sink inside. He wanted to ask for it. But he held still. Kept silent. He lowered his gaze to Aiden’s chest and waited, barely breathing.

Aiden’s breaths were a little shorter, tension evident in the tightening of the thick muscles.

He pressed his finger against the opening, gently and pushed inside.

Craig closed his eyes. Afraid he was going to come on the spot.

“Open your eyes.”

Craig obeyed without hesitating, but knew a little of his desperation had to be showing in his expression.

Aiden’s eyelids dipped sexily down. His mouth curved slightly. He sank the finger deeper, then twisted, rubbing lube around Craig’s entrance, stretching the ring of muscles until it burned.

Sweet fuck, it felt good. “Permission to speak…” Craig gritted out.

Aiden pulled out, then glided back inside. “Permission given.”

“I’m close, Sir.”

“I know. But you won’t come.”

“Can I ring myself, Sir?”

“No choking allowed. That would be cheating.” Aiden dug deep, then leaned over him, his chest touching the end of Craig’s dick. “You know how this works. You’re not a virgin.”

Craig grimaced. “Don’t know if I can hold back.”

“If you don’t, we’re done.”

Something inside Craig went cold. Was Aiden bluffing? Didn’t he want this as much as Craig did? Would he really cut him off before they had a chance to explore each other?

“You done with the questions?”

Craig gave a crisp nod. Then he reached beside himself and curved his fingers around the edge of the padded table and dug in.

Aiden withdrew, picked up the lube and coated three of his fingers.

Craig started to sweat. His ass wasn’t sore yet, but it would be. And he couldn’t wait. God, he couldn’t. Not another second.

But the moment Aiden worked the tips inside him, carefully stretching him with slow nudges, Craig knew he had to wait. No way could he end this before he’d known what it was like to have Aiden covering him from behind, jerking into him. God, and if Jenn was sucking his cock at the same time, he’d die on the spot.

The image was impossible to blink away. His gaze rose to Aiden’s and locked. Did Aiden know what he was thinking? Did Aiden want the same thing? Or was this going to be a big mindfuck? A power play? See how far he could get the cop to go for a little head?

Aiden pulled his fingers free and walked toward the sink in the cabinets that lined the wall. Craig sank against the table, breathing deeply. He covered his eyes with his forearm, trying to gather his wits and his control. They’d barely started, and he was already so tense and starting to get scared he wasn’t going to cut it.

Why it was suddenly so important, he didn’t want to examine. He already knew deep inside this wasn’t some scene. Wasn’t something rehearsed or just play. This was as real as it got, and Craig didn’t do real.

But he’d be lying if he didn’t admit he wanted it to be. Desperately so.

3 Days to Go! (Contest!)

FOURnicopia!

And we’re back! I love the countdowns. Invariably, someone stumbles through the door and says, “How did I miss these books?” To which I answer, “I don’t know! I tried to get your attention the best way I could with this dang title!”

You know I giggle over that title to this day. It’s ornery and nasty—and perfect for the story! Fournicopia isn’t the most popular of the Delta Heat stories, and I think I know why. For some reason, women like their men to be Doms. What I think they believe when a man isn’t the dominating partner is that he’s also not a strong alpha male. WRONG! At least so far as Gus is concerned, it’s 100% wrong. But you have to read the story to see what I mean. 

In case you didn’t see the details concerning the contest in yesterday’s post, I’ll repeat them!

THE CONTEST: Every day of the countdown, I’ll give away one free download of that day’s prequel book and a $5 Amazon.com gift certificate to one lucky commenter. If on that day, you win a download of a book you already own, I’ll let you choose a commenter to give that free download to, but you get to keep the gift certificate! Then on Tuesday, I’ll choose a name from among all the people who posted during this countdown and award a $25 gift certificate.

 

Gus Taggert knows a setup when he sees one. When one of his police officer buddies sends him on a doughnut run to one particular doughnut shop, Cornucopia, he hesitates. It’s too frilly and pink. However, the woman behind the counter serves him more than a couple dozen gourmet doughnuts, she gives him a mini-lesson in submission—something he’s eager to learn more about. When she orders him to see her that night at the BDSM club, La Forge, he’s more than eager to obey.

Newly vetted Domme, Aislinn Darby, has a sub she’s eager to take for a test run. The large, burly cop is the kind of alpha guy she’s been dying to tie up and spank. However, after she takes him through his paces, she finds herself more than willing to let him take control, something she hasn’t enjoyed with a man before. Gus’s brand of loving is addictive, but now she’s doubting herself and her own ability to control a scene. She has to have him back for one more go, only this time, she’s going to do it with a crowd around them to ensure he doesn’t forget who’s in charge. She bribes him into submission. Accept her dictates, and he can have her any way he wants as reward.

What Gus wants is Aislinn in the middle of a scene he orchestrates himself with the help of three of his best friends.

Gus Taggert knew it was a cliché. A cop in a doughnut shop. The officers waiting for him to arrive for the sergeant’s morning meeting didn’t like making the run because of the inevitable roll of the eyes or smartass grin they’d get standing in line.

However, he didn’t mind being the “doughnut guy”. The plus for being the brunt of any jokes was that he ate for free. That was okay with him. He took any pointed looks or lame jokes in stride. He was an affable guy. Hard to rile.

He’d learned long ago to stifle his anger and look for the good in people, even when they messed up. Being oversized and strong, he’d always had to be more careful throwing his weight around. People could get hurt, and that wasn’t why he’d been drawn to law enforcement. He wasn’t a bully in a uniform.

Gus liked being a cop. Liked what it stood for. Loved the black uniform and the camaraderie of his brother cops. He didn’t mind that his closest buds were all moving on to bigger and better things. He liked being a beat cop. Liked patrolling the neighborhood he lived in and getting to know the people he protected.

His father had been a small-town cop, and his father before him had been the sheriff of their little Arkansas berg. But then his mom had moved to Memphis—not because she’d wanted to, but because when his mom and dad divorced, she’d wanted to start fresh where everyone didn’t know her business and didn’t whisper to her ex about who she was seeing next.

Gus had missed his old school and friends, but had a natural gift for making new ones. That he was big and brawny, quick on his feet despite his size, had made him a natural for the football team.

And that’s where he’d met Jackson Teague and Craig Eason, who surprisingly enough, wanted to be cops too when they graduated.

They’d all gone to college together, applied for the police academy and been accepted. That’s where they’d met the remaining members of their current posse, Beau McIntyre and Mondo Acevedo.

So, Gus was never lonely. He had his peeps, a job he loved, a city that kept him on his toes. And today, he was on his way to explore a new doughnut shop.

Mondo, although now in vice and no longer attending the station-house morning meetings, had given him a roll of bills the night before. “Treat the guys to doughnuts. On me.”

Gus had glanced at the roll. “This is too much.”

“Not for the place I want you to go.”

He should have known from the gleam in Mondo’s dark brown eyes that something was up, but Gus liked to think the best of people. Maybe Mondo really did just want to treat the guys to something special.

Well, it was special all right. Not like any doughnut shop Gus had ever seen before. He stood on the street in front of the small store front, eyeing the painted glass window with its pink awning, and felt the first rumbles of misgiving.

Cornucopia. He’d had to Google it last night to get the address and to see what the name meant. A horn of plenty. A familiar Thanksgiving ornament. But there weren’t ears of corn or squashes spilling from the dark pink horn painted on the glass. Doughnuts looking like Christmas presents, painted with ribbons and sparkling with stars, spilled from the mouth of the horn.

All the pink and frothy cuteness made him itch. However, he’d been given a wad of cash and a mission to buy a couple dozen doughnuts from this specific shop. For once, his cheeks burned at the idea.

Hitching up his utility belt, he blew out a deep breath that billowed his cheeks and pushed the glass door. A bell at the top tinkled.

Inside, the shop was pretty much what he’d expected—pale purple tiled flooring, white-painted iron bistro tables, boxes decorated in frou-frou paper and ribbons stacked at one end of the sparkling clean glass-front counter.

Thankfully, the shop was empty. Maybe he could back out, say it’d been closed when he came by, and he could hit a Dunkin Donuts on the way to the station house.

As soon as he’d made up his mind to leave, he heard a stirring from the back, and rather than be caught with one foot still on the sidewalk outside like he was scared to come inside, he stepped through the door and held the bell so it didn’t chime again.

“Have a thing for bells?” came a husky feminine voice.

His gaze darted back to the counter, his cheeks filling with heat. A woman stood there, every bit as pretty and dainty as her little shop, with dark red hair, pale-as-dinner-china white cheeks and large brown eyes. The kind of woman he avoided like the plague because he always felt like a lumbering bear beside them.

What had she asked? Oh, yeah, the bells. He didn’t have a thing for them, he’d only wanted to be quiet and not charge into the place like a bull in a china shop. “No, ma’am.”

“That’s a nice start,” she said, her voice dropping again into a sexy, shivering whisper.

Gus’s cheeks burned hotter, because he knew she’d just made a joke and he didn’t understand it. Further, meeting her amused gaze proved surprisingly difficult. He had the urge to duck his head. To wait for permission to come closer.

Her amusement faded. “Come in, officer,” she said with brisk efficiency. “Can I help you with something?”

He cleared his throat, scuffed his boots on the doormat, like that was why he’d paused coming in, and stepped deeper inside the shop. “I’m just here to buy some doughnuts.”

“I don’t sell just doughnuts.” Her voice sharpened.

Had he insulted her somehow? He came closer to the counter. “They’re pretty doughnuts.”

“I’m a trained pastry chef. These are gourmet doughnuts.”

Like he’d said, they were pretty, but he didn’t get what it was she expected him to say. He thrust his hand into his pocket and took out the roll of bills Mondo had given him. “Mondo said you’d fix me up.”

“Mondo…” Her eyes sparkled for a moment, then narrowed. “Show me which you’re interested in.”

He reached out to point at one confection sitting on a tray atop the glass counter. The doughnut looked more like a pretty cupcake and was covered in glaze with star-shaped silver beads glinting on the top. “Some of these?”

Her hand shot out and slapped the top of his. Not hard, but the loud crack it made startled him. “Ma’am?” he asked, startled she’d dared smack an officer of the law.

“Correct response again,” she said, an edge to her sexy voice. “However, I think you need to come around the counter and make your selection.”

Right about now, he knew his face was beet red. And the collar of his shirt was tightening like a noose, cutting off his air. “Beg your pardon?”

“Come. Now.”

His body reacted to the firm tone with an instant surge of heat straight to his groin. With his balls drawing up, he thought he might embarrass himself further if he got too close to the pretty pastry chef. “Uh, a couple dozen’s all I need,” he said swiftly. “Whatever you want to put into a box.”

The redhead narrowed her eyes. “Mondo’s a friend of mine. He said he was sending me someone special. Don’t disappoint me.”

Mondo was her friend. The way she’d emphasized the word put this strange conversation in a new perspective. Her tone, the hardening glint in her pretty eyes, the stubborn tilt of her chin—good Lord, she was that kind of friend, someone from Mondo’s club, which Gus had visited a time or two out of curiosity first, then growing wonder.

He swallowed hard, beginning to sweat, then slowly made his way around the glass-front counter toward her, seeing the rest of her lovely, slim frame. When he stood a couple feet away, he ducked his head, dropping his gaze. Waiting now, for what he didn’t know, but he knew instinctively she was pleased, because she sighed.

“You’re bigger than I expected.”

Oh hell, what was she looking at? Had his erection become noticeable?

“And you’re better looking.”

He gave a little smile, letting her see it, but still not raising his glance. The parts of her he could watch were fascinating anyway. Her breasts were small but round, and the tips were beginning to poke through her pink-buttoned blouse and lacy bra. Her pale trousers were cinched at the waist with a white leather belt, and it was a tiny trim waist that offset the feminine flare of her hips. Legs proportionate with her body stretched below to pink-tipped toes that peeked out of sandals she wore. His mouth filled with drool. He’d give a week’s wages for the privilege of sucking on them.

She slid open the door to the back of the counter and waved for him to have a look.

Gus wished like hell she’d move back, because standing this close, he got a whiff of her light, floral scent. Beads of sweat popped on his forehead.

Feeling clumsier by the minute, he bent to glance inside the shelves at the array of fancy doughnuts. Sheesh. Not a single plain glazed one. The guys were going to razz the hell out of him.

Suddenly, she stepped behind him, her hands landing on either side of the cabinet to trap him.

He gulped hard. “Ma’am?”

A knee climbed along the inside of one of his thighs, then snuggled against his balls. He froze—blood surged south, filling his cock. Then she slid her knee down and tapped his feet with one of hers, urging him silently to widen his stance.

Which he did. No question or quick denial came to mind. He braced his hands against the glass like a perp ready for a pat-down, dreading and yet eager for whatever she’d do next.

Her hand cupped his balls. “Anything you like?”

Afraid he’d bleat like a goat if he tried to answer, he nodded.

Her fingers closed around his sac, and she gave him a gentle tug. “Me too.”

Then just as quickly, her hand fell away and she moved back.

Gus pushed from the counter and turned.

Her eyes were softer, her expression pleased. She laid a palm against the side of his face. Her thumb stroked his bottom lip. Her gaze dipped to his name tag then back up again. “When I see you next, Officer Taggert,” she whispered, stepping closer, “don’t say a word. Take off your clothes and be ready for whatever I want next.”

His tongue felt glued to the top of his mouth. Sure he wouldn’t manage more than a caveman’s grunt, he nodded again.

A small hand cupped his cock through his uniform pants and rode the length trapped in his dark trousers against his thigh. “There’s more to you than shows. I like that. Look at me.”

He raised his gaze, stopping on the faint curve of her full lips, then rose again to lock with her gold-flecked brown gaze.

She reached up, stuck the nail of her index finger under his chin and pulled down his head until their faces were level. Then she leaned forward, her cheek sliding alongside his. Her warm breath gusted against his ear, and he shivered.

“I’ll give you a box. You can take as many doughnuts as you can fit inside. Take your time. Compose yourself. I’ll see you tonight.”

Gus held his breath until she released him and moved away. She bent to retrieve a box from beneath the counter then gave him a slow smile and turned on her pretty pink heels to walk through the doorway leading to the kitchen.

When she was gone, he let out the breath he’d held and grabbed for the edge of the counter to keep from swaying. Thank God, he’d parked right out front. His dick tented his pants leg.

Swallowing to wet his dry mouth, he slid open the glass and carefully plucked two dozen doughnuts from their trays, not caring what he chose because the sooner he got out of here the better.

When he caught up with Mondo, he’d chew him a new asshole for not warning him what he was walking into.

However, he still felt the warmth of her slap against the back of his hand and—despite his embarrassment—smiled as he exited the shop.