Renee Rose's Blog, page 4

Jack of Spades – Chapter One

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Jack of Spades: A Mafia Romance

Vegas Underground, Book Two

by Renee Rose

 

“YOU’RE AT MY MERCY NOW, AMORE .”

Sorry, bella. You got dealt the losing hand.

Witness to a crime, you’re my prisoner now.

I didn’t mean for things to happen this way,

But tying you to my bed and making you scream

is an unexpected pleasure. A privilege, really.

And even if I did trust you, now that I’ve had a taste,

I’m not sure I’d let you go…

 

Chapter One

 

Corey

 

Three kinds of gamblers spend big at my roulette table.

There’s the guy who’s all up in his head. He’s quiet, body language closed. He sits with hunched shoulders and barely meets my eye. He plays odds, usually has a system he sticks to religiously. Like he always plays red and doubles his bet when he loses.

Then there’s the reckless gambler. He’s riding emotion, drugs or alcohol. He’s the opposite of the first kind. No system, totally haphazard. He might ask the woman beside him for her favorite number and bet it.

Then, there’s the gut gambler, my personal favorite. He carries an electricity with him that often carries the entire table away. It’s the guy who’s found the magic. Lady Luck, mojo, their stars aligning—who knows what it is, but they have an energy they’re following. They stay in the flow, following their intuition and bet right every time.

Often they appear similar to reckless gamblers: they’re outgoing, social. They engage with the people around them, including me, their croupier.

The whale—that’s Vegas for big spender—at my table tonight is neither reckless, nor a gut gambler, although he has the personality and style of both. He’s gorgeous with a finely tailored suit and European flair, like he stepped off the pages of an Italian men’s magazine. He flirts shamelessly with me and chats up the people around him.

I scoop and stack the chips and award the winnings with practiced finesse, doing a one-handed split and stack and moving with lightning speed.

“There she goes, beauty and talent.”

It’s cheesy, but I flash him a smile. I like having him at my table, love his charm and flair, the big tips, yet my spidey sense keeps sounding. There’s something off about him.

He’s down two thousand at the moment. He slides his chips out onto the table at the last minute, right as I wave my hand and call no more bets. He sets them up sloppily, too. I can’t tell if he wants them in the box for Third Twelve or Odd.

“Which one, sir?” I lean forward to get his attention as the wheel spins.

He’s been drinking quite a bit, but he doesn’t appear intoxicated. His eyes flick to my cleavage—which I still manage to work despite the masculine uniform—then back to my face before he gives me a slow, good-natured grin. “Odds, please. Sorry for that.”

“No slop,” I warn, and scoot the chips over as the ball settles.

He wins. He slides two hundred-dollar chips across the table to me as a tip. When I pull his chips in, I see he’s embedded a ten dollar chip in the middle instead of a hundred. I flick my gaze up and see he’s watching me. He winks.

Asshole.

I subtly signal for Security to come over.

It’s not the first time I’ve been propositioned to cheat for a customer. It happens often enough. It sort of boggles my mind that he’d spend two hundred bucks paying me off to make ninety. But I suppose it was a test. Once he found out if I’d give him anything, he would’ve tried it again and again.

Vincent, the security manager on the floor tonight ambles over and stands close to me, dipping his head to listen.

“This guy’s playing slop and trying to slip low chips in his stack.”

Later, I would realize Vincent seemed a little too pleased with me, but it doesn’t register. I’m just ignoring the flutters in my belly as he walks around to escort the dude out. I’m not sorry. I did the right thing, for sure. I’m only disappointed because the guy was attractive and sort of fascinating to me, and I’d fantasized for just a moment about him asking me out.

But whatever. I’m not going to risk this job, not even for a sexy man in a sharp suit. Working at the Bellissimo is like a job, education and socialization all rolled into one glamorous package. It’s owned by the notorious Nico Tacone, of the Tacone Chicago crime family, who rules the place with an iron fist. I wouldn’t fuck with him. Even if he is in love with my cousin.

I finish my shift and head toward the employee locker rooms. When I pass the hallway toward the security offices, I stop short.

Vincent is standing in a relaxed posture, shooting the shit with none other than the sexy suit from my table.

“Corey,” he grins and beckons me closer. “Come here, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Oh Jesus. He was a secret shopper. Or whatever you call a security test. I don’t know why it pisses me off, but it does. My stomach tightens up into a knot as I stride over.

“Corey, meet Stefano Tacone, our new Head of Security.”

I lift my hand to slap Stefano’s face. I don’t know why I do it. Yes, I have a redhead’s temper and I grew up in a violent family. Still, I should know better.

He catches my wrist and uses it to pull me right up against him. “I wouldn’t.” His warning is less a growl than a low, smoky rumble. Like he’s dirty-talking me right here in the hallway.

My body responds immediately, my core turning molten. Of course, my damn cheeks heat, too. And believe me, on a redhead, there’s no mistaking a blush.

“No one strikes a Tacone without regretting it.” It’s a threat, yet it’s still spoken good-naturedly, with the same heart-stopping charm he used out on the floor, trying to get me to cheat for him.

Shit. Did I actually just lift a hand to a mob boss? A chill slithers down my back.

I’m so going to lose my job.

Except Stefano doesn’t look angry. He looks like he wants to eat me for lunch.

I figure my best bet is to own my mistake. “Forgive me.”

 

#

 

Stefano

 

The beauty in my arms—well, not quite in my arms, more at my mercy—meets my gaze with courage.

I see neither fear nor defiance in the bright blue eyes, merely bald curiosity, almost a hint of fascination.

Likewise, bella.

I picked her table for a reason, and it wasn’t because anyone suspected her of cheating. Quite the opposite. The floor manager says she always attracts a crowd of gentlemen, earns big tips. She’s fast and showy, exuding just the right balance  of cool professional and warm invitation in any game she deals. I tested her because we need a dealer for private games upstairs.

Now, though, I want to play all kinds of private games with her and none of them involve a deck of cards or a roulette wheel.

“I don’t like being humiliated,” she says. For a moment, I think she’s speaking to my thoughts, and then I realize it’s her justification for trying to slap me. She turns her wrist in my hand, attempting to get free.

I don’t allow it, pulling her small hand up to my mouth to brush my lips across her knuckles. “I’ll remember that,” I murmur.

She goes still, throat working on a swallow. She’s so close I sense the heat of her lanky body, notice the slight tremble in her fingers, despite the evenness of her gaze.

There goes the blush again, giving her away. I want to keep holding her tight against my body, watching those electric blue eyes dilate every time I speak, but if I do, I’ll end up shoving her against the wall and having my way with the tits she wields like weapons.

No other female croupier looks like this one. The new uniform is a white oxford, crimson vest, and a bow tie, for God’s sake.

Corey manages to make the outfit sinful, though. The short black skirt hugs every curve of her ass, hips and waist, setting off a pair of long slender legs. She has the blouse unbuttoned and open to the vest, the bow tie worn on the inside like a lover’s collar. How I’d love to put a collar and leash on this beautiful creature and bring her to heel; she’d take some training, too. The coupe de grace of the outfit is her vest. She chose one two sizes too small, making it appear more like a bustier or corset, cinching below her breasts and pushing them in and up until they’re begging to spill from her blouse. I can’t tell with the vest if her nipples are hard, but judging from her parted lips and short breath, I’d guess they are.

I know I sprouted a chub just from getting rough with her. Which would probably be a good reason to let her go. I force a little self-control and release her.

“Come into my office, let’s have a little chat.” I wave my arm to indicate my new office.

Again, she holds her head high, tossing her long thick waves over her shoulder as she precedes me to the closed door.

She waits for me to open it, presumably because it’s my office, but I take distinct satisfaction in reaching past her to hold it open, like we’re on some kind of classy date instead of interview.

“Have a seat, Corey.”

She shoots me a wary glance as she takes a seat opposite me at my desk. “Did Nico sic you on me?”

I arch a brow. “You’re on a first-name basis with my brother?”

“Mr. Tacone,” she amends with a slight flush. I love her blushes because they are so at odds with her natural confidence. “No, sorry, not at all. He’s dating my cousin, so I just—”

“Ah, yes. The woman. The reason Nico called me back from Sicily.”

Corey appears taken aback. “What do you mean?”

I wink. “I’m here because he was in danger of losing her—working too many hours. I haven’t met her yet, this cousin of yours.” I let my gaze travel across Corey’s face, down to her enticing cleavage and back. “I can see why he might be enchanted.”

No blush this time. In fact, I think she suppressed an eye roll. I really do like this girl. Taming her would be so fun.

“What’s her name?”

She crosses her long legs, ease creeping into her posture. “Sondra. And you probably won’t meet her. She’s gone.”

I knew this already. It’s a good thing I arrived when I did because Nico’s been completely off the rails since his woman walked out on him. I have yet to see the guy, but I know he’s flown home to Chicago to figure out his arranged marriage and other shit with our father.

She tries to take back the lead in the conversation, “So why target me? I’m a good dealer. I keep my nose clean.”

My lips twitch. I love her spirit. She’s going to be perfect for upstairs. I’ll just have to make sure no one touches her because I’m already starting to feel a bit proprietary over the looker. “Your supervisors like you, yes. The ones who aren’t jealous.” I noticed the female supervisor gave her much lower marks than the males.

The corner of Corey’s lips tug up. I like the easy recognition she gives to my statement. She already has correctly interpreted my words and isn’t bothered by them. I’ve already made up my mind—she’s smart. Confident. Easy on the eyes. She’s perfect.

“We’re switching you to higher stakes games. Private ones.” I’m not asking; I’m telling. This is the way Tacones do business.

Now I caught her off-guard. Her crimson lips part, and for a moment, no sound comes out. “That sounds dangerous.” Her voice strangles slightly on the last word.

I raise a brow, both curious and impressed by her conclusion. “It’s not. I’ll be there for every game. I won’t let anything happen to you.” When she remains still, I say, “Or is it me you’re worried about?”

Slight blush tells me she’s definitely interested, but she shakes her head. “No. Yes. I guess I mean it sounds… illegal.”

There it is. I so appreciate people who can be direct.

I spread my hands. “This is Las Vegas. We have a gambling license. It’s the reason my brother moved here.”

“Right. Of course.” She nods, averting her eyes. I fucking love those little signs of submission on an otherwise alpha female. Like when she apologized for trying to slap me. She knows when to hold her own and when to roll over. It makes me want to flex my dominance in all kinds of filthy ways—put her on her knees and choke her with my cock. Tie her to my bed and keep her screaming all night long. Win her obedience with a whip and a carrot.

She doesn’t believe me, which again, shows she’s smart. Gambling may not be illegal, but there are all sorts of sordid, underground things that happen around the fringe. Like the sometimes forcible collection of unusual bets placed by desperate men.

This is the game my brother Nico learned from La Famiglia. He was a genius to bring it to Vegas, where much of it is legal. Yeah, it means he pays taxes, but believe me, not as much as he should.

“It won’t be all the time. Three or four nights a week. We’ll double your base pay and the tips should increase, too.”

“You’re not giving me a choice.” It’s a statement, not a question.

I wink. “You noticed that, did you? I need you in the upstairs games, Corey. End of story.”

Anger flickers in her expression but she quickly hides it. “Why me?”

I lift my shoulders in a casual shrug. “You’re professional. Cool and reserved. Trustworthy. Beautiful. In short, you’re exactly what I’m looking for.”

The wariness in her gaze becomes more apparent. Her dislike of my offer shows on her face, but she says, “Well. I guess I don’t have a say in the matter.”

I’m slightly surprised. I knew she wasn’t a bimbo who’d fall all over herself, flattered, but I don’t think I’m giving her a bad deal. And if her cousin’s already in bed with Nico—literally—I can’t think she has major hang-ups about our family.

But maybe she does.

“Oh there’s always a choice, Ms. Simonson. You can walk out that door.”

Eh, I may be the young charming one, but can be as much of a stronzo as any of my brothers. Maybe more.

Her dark painted lips compress. “I’m not doing that, Mr. Tacone.” Her blue eyes blaze when she meets the challenge in my gaze.

“Good.” I stand up and hold out my hand. “Welcome to the big time.”

She stands and I note her brief hesitation before taking my hand, but I give her a warm smile as we shake.

“Tomorrow night. Be here by eight.”

“Yes, sir. Here—your office?”

I nod, even though it’s a terrible idea. I should foist her onto Sal or Leo, tell her somewhere else to meet, but I can’t turn down the idea of having her here, in my space. My personal croupier. “Wear a dress—something sexy.”

She pauses at the door and turns around, the wariness fully in place again.

“I won’t let anyone touch you.” I hold up three fingers. “Scout’s honor.”

Her eyes narrow, lips twist into a smirk. “You were never a Scout.” There’s a derisive note of knowing in her voice that makes something slide in my belly. The urge to fuck that scorn right off her face combines with the need to punch something.

She’s right. I’m no Boy Scout. Never have been. My big brothers were delivering beat-downs on Nico and I before we lost our first baby teeth. We learned the art of violence at the same time we learned our alphabet. Nico perfected the fine art of strategy—how to manipulate and win against the odds—by the time he hit puberty. He showed me the ropes, protected me. My life’s been easier than his and I’m not bitter, but I’m also not going to apologize, especially not to this mouthy piece of ass. These are the cards I was dealt, the family I was born into.

But I don’t allow any of this to show. Instead, I toss another wink and my lady-killer smile. “You found me out.”

I reach past her to open the door again. “Do as you’re told—wear the dress. I’ll see that you’re rewarded.” To put a finer point on it, I pull a five-hundred-dollar chip from my pocket and flip it into the air. She catches it, then holds my gaze as she slowly tucks it into her cleavage.

It’s all I can do not to slam the door and push her against it, give her a thorough strip-search to see what else she’s hiding between or around those perky breasts.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” Her voice comes out a little breathy, telling me she’s not immune to the heat of my gaze.

I clear my throat. “Tomorrow.” I want to slap her ass as she sashays through the door, but I manage to find some self-restraint in time.

Tomorrow, though, she may not be so lucky.

I can’t fucking wait to see her in a dress. I already know the sight of her is going to make my night.

 

#

 

Corey

 

I dial my cousin Sondra on my way out but she doesn’t answer. She’s with Nico in Chicago after a blowout fight that we all thought had ended things forever. But Tacone has a hard time taking no for an answer. I have to say—Nico Tacone may be a scary motherfucker, but he is totally in deep with Sondra.

When she left him four days ago, he flipped out. He cornered me, tried to make me tell him where she’d gone, put a guy outside my house, presumably to watch for her. Sondra thought he’d been cheating on her. But I talked to everyone close to him after Sondra left, and they all had the same story. He had a family-arranged marriage contract that he was trying to get out of and Sondra is the only woman Nico’s ever been serious about.

So when I got her text yesterday with a picture of a diamond ring on her left hand, I knew they’d worked it out.

I really don’t know what to think about Sondra marrying a known mobster. She’s always had terrible taste in men—not that my last choice was any better.

But Nico Tacone is the real deal. He’s dangerous and powerful. He made my ex disappear. Not that I’m not crying over it. Dean tried to rape my cousin.

But still. Ordinary guys don’t have that kind of power.  

I’m not judgy about the crime thing. As the daughter of a crooked fed, I have a very jaded sense of crime and law.

But that’s why I didn’t want to get involved in anything that puts me close to the seedy underbelly of the organization. And the high-stakes private games will definitely do that.

I haven’t seen my dad in over ten years. When he left my mom for some skanky chick in Detroit, we all breathed a sigh of relief. Does Stefano know my dad’s with the FBI? Somehow I doubt it, and if he finds out, things could get hairy fast.

I really don’t know how much illegal activity goes on around here, but I’m guessing it’s more peripheral. Why would they need to break laws when their casino rakes in millions a year? Still, I don’t want to see any of it. I don’t ever want to be in a position where they have to rely on or question my loyalty.

Dammit.

Should I have told Stefano?

And why in the hell am I thinking of him as Stefano and not Mr. Tacone? He reprimanded me for calling his brother by his first name.

Oh, maybe it’s all the eye-fucking he did. Or the way he kissed my fingers after catching my wrist. A shiver runs through me remembering how quickly he caught and held my wrist without any trace of exertion or anger. Rather, he seemed bemused. As if he enjoyed the opportunity to show me his superior strength and hold me captive.

It’s not because I want to be on a first name basis with him.

I definitely don’t.

Why would I even think that? Especially after all my concerns for Sondra?

But something about that man has me squeezing my knees together every time he winks. Which is far too often.

I drive home to my small apartment. For the first time since Sondra moved into the casino and Tacone made Dean disappear, it feels too small. Even lonely.

But I’m not looking for company. I don’t need to jump into another relationship.

Of course no one’s chasing me for one, either. Stefano appears to be the polar opposite of my cousin’s possessive and single-minded lover, Nico. He’s definitely a player.

Which means sex—just once to get him out of my system—might be on the table.

 

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(c) Renee Rose Romance September 2018

First Chapter of Blaze

 

[image error] Coming August 25th!

Blaze: A Firefighter Romance  By Renee Rose

©2018 Renee Rose

Chapter One – Sneak Preview

 

Lia

 

With four brothers—all cops, not firemen—I’m not afraid of any guy. Especially not guys like these.

Even if their, I mean our, captain doesn’t want a female on the crew.

“What are you playing?” I ask my new teammates innocently as they deal another round of poker to kill time at the station.

Rocket—the friendliest, but possibly dorkiest—grins. “Poker—know how to play?”

I twirl the end of my dark ponytail around my finger. “Yeah, I think so.”

James, who is the least friendly of the guys—not counting the captain—folds his arms over his large chest. “We don’t play for money, though.”

I know what’s coming and I’m not afraid. “Oh yeah?” I’m pretty good at playing innocent. “What do you play for?”

“Have you heard of strip poker?”

Rocket flushes slightly, clearly thrilled by the suggestion. “Yeah, it’s just for fun,” he leers. “That way if we get a call, the person who took off the most takes the longest to get ready.”

Uh huh. Right.

I pull a chair up to the table. “Okay. I’m in.”

“You are?” Rocket’s eyes pop, like he can’t believe how lucky they got.

James still looks like he tasted a lemon, but he starts shuffling and deals the cards.

I sit back, hold my cards and hide my inner smirk. If these asshole firemen believe they can haze me into taking my clothes off and becoming their wet dream fire maiden, I’ll let them harbor that impossible fantasy—for at least another half hour.

See—here’s what I  know. Firemen are nicer than cops. More predictable. They have that same hero desire but it burns—heh—brighter. They’re not quite as power-hungry or controlling. Except for the captain. They call him Blaze—I’m guessing because of a temper. He’s got a streak of controlling cop for sure. It’s a trait that I hate in my brothers, but unfortunately makes my knees go weak in a boss. Especially a fire captain boss.

The rest of these boys were the football stars in high school—good-looking, rigid thinkers, slightly chauvinistic, but generally nice guys. No one’s gonna actually get naked here and they know it. Oh, they probably think they’re gonna get an eyeful of my bra and panties, maybe even harbor hope of seeing some boobage—not that there’s much to see—but they don’t know who they’re up against.

If anyone knows how to play poker, it’s me.

Again—four brothers.

What my brothers don’t know is that I also know how to play dingy sex kitten and make stupid would-be poker champs think I’m in over my head.

Which means, at the end of this game, these boys are going to be the ones sitting in their boxer briefs, and I’m going to be using my phone to take pictures I can forever hold over their heads.

“So, Lia,” Scott, my thirty-something hot but ignorant new colleague drawls, “It’s you.”

“We need a better name for her,” Rocket says.

“Yeah, too bad Rocket’s already taken,” I say drily.

He grins good-naturedly. “How about Sparks? She’s definitely a little spark plug, plus she’s always lighting matches.”

Damn, they noticed that. I just burned a few outside between fires to let off steam. I’ll have to be more careful.

“It’s your bet, Sparks,” James says without a smile. “Let me guess, you’re starting with your boots.”

“Nope.” I make a show of slowly peeling my red FDNY t-shirt over my head. “I’ll open.” All three of the other firefighters on duty tonight stare. “Let’s start with the shirt. That way you guys can get a nice look at what’s not coming off tonight.” I squeeze both my breasts through the very chaste, full-coverage pink sports bra.

Scott’s hand drops under the table, presumably to rearrange his junk. “I see.” He clears his throat. “Didn’t expect that from you.”

I hide my triumph. They thought they’d force me to admit I can’t claim to be just one of the guys. Cock-tease is my surprise rebuttal.

He, too, peels his shirt off, revealing a perfect pair of pects on a gleaming dark-skinned chest. Not that I’m looking. Every guy here is ripped. Being physically fit is part of the job requirement. But I’m used to guys like these from the CrossFit gym. “I’ll see your shirt.” He stands up and unbuttons his Nomex pants. “And raise you a pair of pants.”

“Ooh,” James and Rocket croon, looking for my reaction.

I can’t hold back my smirk. If they think showing me their boxers is going to fluster me, they have a shit-ton of more thinks coming. I can give it as well as they do.

I completed my fire training. I worked three summers as a hot-shot for the Forest Service in Arizona. No female is in better shape than I am right now. And still I had to apply and reapply for thirty-two months to get this job. No one will say it, but I guarantee it’s about their bias against my small size and gender.

But I’m putting that behind me because I finally landed this job—despite the intimidating interview with the chief and battalion chief. And now that I got in and am one step closer to my dream job, I’m going to prove how well I fit in. There won’t be awkwardness. They’ll respect me as much as they do anyone else.

“What. The fuck. Is going on here?”

At the sound of the captain’s angry boom, we all jump and throw our cards down, sitting up straight.

This is how I know deep down these are nice boys. They have the grace to go completely shame-faced, hurriedly scooping up the cards and tossing me my shirt.

“Nothing, Captain,” Scott says, yanking his own shirt back on.

Our hard-assed captain, Ted MacKenzie—Blaze—is like the Greek god of firemen. Tall, tattooed and beef-alicious, he’s young to be in charge—maybe in his mid-thirties. And what he lacks in years he makes up for in gruffness. The man is two hundred fifty pounds of pure authority and alpha male dominance. A fact I find far too sexy for my own good.

And he definitely isn’t having it right now. Laser beams shoot from his striking blue eyes. Anger radiates from him, letting us all know we’re in deep shit.

“Aw, we’re just indoctrinating Sparks into our poker games, Cap,” Rocket says.

“Sparks, huh.” His eyes shoot to me and he flicks his brows. “Fitting.”

I square my shoulders to hide the fact that I’m cowed. And turned on. My pussy clenches and damn my nipples—they prod the inside of my sports bra. But I’m like this in Blaze’s presence all the time. I’m always attracted the guys who don’t think I’m good enough.

What does that say about me?

And since this guy seemed pissed as hell to be assigned a female to his crew, I suddenly question the wisdom of our little strip poker game. He looks ready to commit murder. We each receive our own special glare, which travels slowly around the circle until we’re all sweating like kids sent to the principal’s office.

“This is not a goddamn frat house. Burke is here to work, like the rest of you. She’s not here for you to stroke your pathetic dicks. You’re going to treat her like any other goddamn fireman—fireperson—whatever.” He throws up an impatient hand. He jerks his chin at me. “Put your shirt on.”

My cheeks flame, but I hold his gaze with a note of defiance as I slide it on.

No matter—he’s back to lecturing the guys, pointing his finger at each one in turn. “We haven’t had a woman on the crew before, but that doesn’t mean you lose your goddamn heads. I expect every one of you to figure out how to be appropriate starting today. Right now.” He points at the ground. “You don’t make suggestive remarks, you don’t talk about sex around her and you sure as hell don’t try to get her to do a goddamn strip tease. If I ever see this kind of shit again, I will write you up on harassment so fast your heads will spin. Is that perfectly clear?”

“Yes, sir,” they all say immediately.

“And God help any of you if I ever hear you try anything with her. You will lose more than your job, you will lose your nuts.”

The guys, who had been sitting up straight for the brutal lecture, sink down in their seats.

“This firehouse is a strict no-fraternizing zone.” He looks at me for that.

I had been slightly flattered by the protective note to his lecture, but now white hot anger pours through me. I stick my chin out but somehow manage to keep my mouth shut.

But seriously? Is he implying I’m trying to seduce my co-workers? What a prick.

He keeps the blazing gaze fixed on me. “And you. You worked your ass off to get into this firehouse. Don’t fuck it up now.” He turns and walks away.

I’m on my feet—definitely too pissed to be around these guys a minute longer. I stalk to the tiny cubicle that serves as my bedroom for the night and shut the door, reaching for a book of matches with shaking hands.

The scrape of the head and bright flare of the flame calm me. The sulfur stings my nostrils and sends the signal to my brain. Like an addict getting a hit, my body responds. My muscles relax, heart rate slows. My pleasure centers activate.

I hold the match, letting it burn down to my fingers before I drop it in the metal wastebasket. I’m safe with matches. If anyone knows the danger of fire, it’s me. I light another, then one more until I’ve soothed the tiger.

I flick another match. Damn the prickly captain for screwing up what would’ve been a perfectly genial way to break the boys in. I drop the match in the trash can. Damn the prickly captain for making me want to prove myself to him all over again. I drop the matches on the desk and stand up. Fuck it. I am going to give him a piece of my mind.

 

#

 

Blaze

 

I’m all about equal rights—I am.

But having Lia Burke in my firehouse might be the death of me.

I head back to the station office and sit at the desk. Lord. I can’t fucking believe they sent me a tiny female. Sure, she passed the test. She’s strong and looks tough as hell. Definitely one of those CrossFit chicks who can bench twice her weight.

But her presence here is going to be the biggest pain in my ass ever.

She’s also hot. Her smooth caramel skin looks downright lickable, and the big green eyes are set off by long, curling lashes. Not the fake kind that are so popular these days. Natural lashes—no mascara or anything, not that I’m an expert on these things.

And she has junk in the trunk. I’m definitely an ass man and this girl? She has the best posterior I’ve ever had the pleasure of walking behind. Not that I do that on purpose.

Not unless I want to sprout wood in front of my crew.

I can’t stand the other guys ogling her. I mean, I seriously can’t stand it.

They are not exactly PC. It’s locker room talk around here twenty-four seven. I swear I’m going to have a sexual harassment claim on my hands in less than a month.

Even though she’s trying to prove she’s cool with whatever they throw her way.

Yeah, the little spitfire is going to turn this firehouse on its head.

But what troubles me even more is I know something about this girl. Her brother is friends with a battalion chief friend of mine. When she got hired, he reminded me of a fire we put out.

I started at the Staten Island station—Ladder 153. There was a three alarm fire that destroyed a cop’s place ten years ago. The cop’s oldest son was friends with our captain—my buddy who is now a battalion chief.

We tried so hard to save the house, but it was too late—the entire thing was made of sticks and went up fast. I remember the Puerto Rican wife crying in Spanish while the cop and his kids tried to be heroes and help. We had to order back the four boys and one girl a number of times.

The fire had been ruled accidental, originating in the girl’s bedroom. That girl was Lia Burke.

And for some reason, knowing her history makes me even more protective of her.

She’s fighting demons. She became a firefighter to try reverse her past.

As if that ever works. We can’t make up for our past mistakes. I should know.

A prickle on the back of my neck tells me I’m being watched and I look up. Here she is—one hip propped against my doorway, her slender but buff arms folded across her chest.

She’s so small we had to order her a child’s size t-shirt for her wear, but damn, the spunk in her is anything but petite. Her dark curls are pulled up in a high ponytail, dark-lashed green eyes are bright against her flushed skin.

“Yes, Burke?” I have to work hard not to think about the way her nipples got hard when I was going off on the crew.

Damn.

I work even harder not to wonder what that means.

Her jaw muscles tighten, then release, then tighten again.

Little girl is trying to hold her tongue and, if I’m interpreting correctly, not blow up at me. I really have to work to force back all the fantasies that crowd my brain about punishing her for sass. Or forcing her to speak her mind. It could easily go either way.

Another beat passes and she pushes her hip off the door frame. “Nevermind.” She turns and walks away, the sway of her perky ass making my cock twitch in my pants.

“No, come back. Let’s talk this out. You pissed at me?” I may be a hardass, but I’m actually all about communication amongst the team.

When she turns, her expression’s softened, relief flickering over it. She leans a hand against the doorframe, staying outside it. “Kinda. Were you implying I was trying to—”

I hold my hands up. “I wasn’t implying anything.” I stand up from the chair. I’m a big guy, and she’s freakin’ tiny, but she doesn’t draw back. If anything, she leans forward, eyes dilating. “Strip poker isn’t allowed in this firehouse under my watch, that’s it. End of story.”

Her mouth turns down at the corners.

“Listen, you’re trying to find your place here—getting to know the guys. I get it.” I shove my hands in my pockets to seem less threatening. “I’m sure you would’ve had them all in their boxer shorts by the time you were done.”

A smile quirks before she hides it again, her body posture relaxing even more. I like putting her at ease. Almost as much as I liked seeing her reaction—physical, anyway—to my dominance back there.

“The thing is—we haven’t had a woman on the team before. It’s going to be an adjustment for all of us. And I don’t want anyone thinking…”

I stop because, what am I going to say? I don’t want them thinking the same thing I am about her? How much they’d love to feel that tight little body squirming underneath theirs? How they’d love to give her a little personal training?

“I don’t want anyone to fuck with you, that’s all. Because then I’d have to pound their faces in.”

This time I succeed in wringing a real grin from her—one that stays on her face and makes her big eyes crinkle. She’s unbelievably pretty, with flawless skin and a pair of dimples. It takes all my willpower not to drop my gaze to her breasts, because I’m dying to see if I made those little nipples hard again.

She rolls her eyes. “So you’re playing big brother, not boss? I already have four of those, so it’s not really a role I need filled.”

Oh, sugar, my thoughts are anything but brotherly.

“Yeah—I’m Big Brother with the capital Bs. Always watching.” I do the two fingers at my eyes, two fingers at her eyes gesture and she laughs. Something that buckled down across my chest when I walked in on the guys’ shenanigans releases. “I see you can take care of yourself, Sparks. Just don’t make me sorry you got placed here.”

“Okay, there it is.” She’s fully in my office now, hands on her hips. “I knew there was something you were trying to say to me. So what is it?”

Her show of defiance makes my cock ache. I want take this girl in hand so badly, my palm twitches. I can’t stop myself from advancing on her until we’re toe to toe. Nose to chest.

I’m dying to wrap my fist in her hair, tip that saucy head back to keep her eyes on my face. Fortunately for her, she lifts them of her own accord.

“Enough, little dragon.” I tower over her, hands on my hips. “You don’t march into my office breathing fire and throwing out attitude. You have something to say to me, you show some respect.”

She swallows and takes a step back. “I’m sorry, sir.”

Christ, yes. The nipples are hard. Even through a sports bra and t-shirt. Her eyes are dilated, too, and the way she rubs her lips together makes my cock chubby.

“That’s better.” I pin her with an authoritative stare and let the silence stretch between us before I go on. “I didn’t say anything to you I wouldn’t have said if you were a man.”

She rolls her tongue around in her cheek. “You call the other guys little dragon?”

I fight a smile. “Did that offend you?”

She cocks a hip, her posture turned seductive. “Nah.”

“Good. Are we okay?” I automatically reach out to thump her shoulder the way I would one of the guys after a talk in the office. At the last second, I pull the thump part back and just touch her. It’s just a shoulder—it’s not like I have hands on her face, or her waist, or anywhere intimate—and yet it’s like time freezes the moment I touch her. Our eyes lock, heat races through my limbs. I have to force myself to drop my hand but when I do, my gaze falls on those full, pouty lips.

Damn.

“Yeah, we’re good.” She’s lost most of her tough girl attitude, her expression more wondering now. It’s amazing how badly I want to see her stripped bare to me—the facade gone. I want to know the real Lia—what makes her tick.

But that won’t be happening. No stripping—of clothes or otherwise. Not for me or any other asshole in this station.

 

BLAZE – COMING AUGUST 25th

 

BLAZE IS DEMANDING. UNYIELDING. A PUNISHER.

He thinks he can rid me of my demons

by exacting even more of me than I ask myself.

He says he can wash my sins clean.

Absolve me of the fire that scalded my soul.

All I have to do is turn myself over to him.

Submit. Surrender.

The only problem—he doesn’t just want my body.

He wants to own my life.

 

Alpha’s War is Live

I’m coming for you, Denali…

Alpha’s War by Renee Rose & Lee Savino is AVAILABLE NOW!

also from the co-branded series Bad Alpha Dads

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Nash

I’ve survived suicide missions in war zones. Shifter prison labs. The worst torture imaginable. Nothing knocked me off my feet… until the beautiful lioness they threw in my cage. We shared one night before our captors ripped us apart.

Now I’m free, and my lion is going insane. He’ll destroy me from the inside out if I don’t find my mate.

I don’t know who she is. I don’t know where she lives. All I have is a video of her. But I’ll die if I don’t find her, and make her mine.

I’m coming for you, Denali.

Denali

They took me from my home, they killed my pride, they locked me up and forced me to breed. They took everything from me and still I survived.

But one night with a lion shifter destroyed me. Nash took the one thing my captors couldn’t touch—my heart.

Somehow I escaped, and live in fear that they will come for me. It’s killing my lioness, but I’ve got to hide–even from Nash. I’ve got to protect the one thing I have left to lose: our cub.

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Excerpt:

Denali

I still dream of him at night.

The deep rasp of his voice. The sense of quiet command, even as a prisoner. The giant bulge of his muscles when he moved. When he shook and sweat above me, his thick manhood filling me, satisfying me.

Sometimes I swear I feel the gentleness of his touch just before I wake. But then I always hear the nightmare voice. The rough snarl of a lion in pain.

Denali, I’m coming for you.
I bolt upright in bed, gasping. Just a dream. A dream, a dream, a dream, a dream. Another dream.

Not real.
It doesn’t take a psychotherapist to know what the dream means.

I shove back the memories of the lion who marked me, ignoring the familiar twist in the pit of my stomach.

Nash.
Did he ever make it out? Or did he die in there and it’s his ghost who visits me in the night?
Will the guilt over not going back to try to save him ever run dry? Doubtful.

I throw off the covers and pad silently to the kitchen, careful not to make any noise to wake Nolan.
I make coffee and wave through the window at my portly neighbor and landlady, Mrs. Davenfield, who is out early weeding her garden. She’s the reason I ended up settling here.
After I escaped, I stayed off the radar. Took only under the table cash jobs–gardening and migrant farm work. I ended up in Temecula–wine country–working the vineyards during harvest season.
Mrs. Davenfield was willing to take cash and skip the credit check to let me rent the little cottage on her property. She took one look at my swollen belly and decided I must be escaping domestic abuse. I never corrected her, because hell, she seems to love the drama and feeling like she’s my secret-keeper. And I needed her help.
And in a way, I was escaping domestic abuse. Just not the way she imagined it. Not some baby-daddy I had to get away from.
No. Nolan’s father is the only part of my horrifying ordeal worth remembering. I guess that’s why he’s the one who haunts me most.

Because I got away.
And I left him there to rot.

About the Authors:

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews’ Best Historical, Best Erotic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams. To receive FREE Renee Rose books, click here.

Renee loves to connect with readers! Please visit her on:

Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Lee Savino has grandiose goals but most days can’t find her wallet or her keys so she just stays at home and writes. While she was studying creative writing at Hollins University, her first manuscript won the Hollins Fiction Prize.

She lives in Richmond, Va with her awesome family. You can find her on Facebook in the Goddess Group (which you totally should join).

Sign up for her newsletter here: http://bredbytheberserkersfreebook.gr8.com/

Alpha’s Desire is Available Now!

 

Alpha’s Desire by Renee Rose & Lee Savino is AVAILABLE NOW!

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FREE with #KindleUnlimited

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READ THE FIRST CHAPTERS NOW → http://desire.gr8.com/

She’s the one girl I can’t have. A human.

I’m a player, but there’s one girl I can’t have.

The redhead who lights up the club every Saturday night. I want to pull her into the storeroom and claim her, but it wouldn’t be right.

She’s too pure. Too fresh. Too passionate.

Too human.

When she learns my secret, my alpha orders me to wipe her memories.

But I won’t do it.

Still, I’m not mate material–I can’t mark her and bring her into the pack.

What in the hell am I going to do with her?

About the Authors:

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews’ Best Historical, Best Erotic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams. To receive FREE Renee Rose books, click here.

Renee loves to connect with readers! Please visit her on:

Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Lee Savino has grandiose goals but most days can’t find her wallet or her keys so she just stays at home and writes. While she was studying creative writing at Hollins University, her first manuscript won the Hollins Fiction Prize.

She lives in Richmond, Va with her awesome family. You can find her on Facebook in the Goddess Group (which you totally should join).

Sign up for her newsletter here: http://bredbytheberserkersfreebook.gr8.com/

Alpha’s Desire – Coming Soon

[image error]Alpha’s Desire by Renee Rose & Lee Savino releases on MARCH 31st!

CHECK OUT THIS SEXY COVER!

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JOIN THE VIP CLUB → http://desire.gr8.com/

BLOGGERS sign up here → https://goo.gl/forms/84ERtVXkGx4w8YTm1

She’s the one girl I can’t have. A human.

I’m a player, but there’s one girl I can’t have.

The redhead who lights up the club every Saturday night. I want to pull her into the storeroom and claim her, but it wouldn’t be right.

She’s too pure. Too fresh. Too passionate.

Too human.

When she learns my secret, my alpha orders me to wipe her memories.

But I won’t do it.

Still, I’m not mate material–I can’t mark her and bring her into the pack.

What in the hell am I going to do with her?

Alpha’s Challenge is LIVE

Alpha’s Challenge by Renee Rose & Lee Savino IS LIVE!

Grab it now for FREE on Kindle Unlimited!

Amazon → http://amzn.to/2Bc5uzu

How to Date a Werewolf:

#1 Never call him ‘Good Doggie.’

I’ve got a problem. A big, hairy problem. An enforcer from the Werewolves Motorcycle Club broke into my house. He thinks I know the Werewolves’ secret, and the pack sent him to guard me.

#2 During a full moon, be ready to get freaky

By the time he decides I’m no threat, it’s too late. His wolf has claimed me for his mate.

Too bad we can’t stand each other…

# 3 Bad girls get eaten in the bedroom

…until instincts take over. Things get wild. Naked under the full moon, this wolfman has me howling for more.

# 4 Break ups are hairy

Not even a visit from the mob, my abusive ex, my crazy mother and a road trip across the state in a hippie VW bus can shake him.

#5 Beware the mating bite

Because there’s no running from a wolf when he decides you’re his mate.

About the Authors:

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews’ Best Historical, Best Erotic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams. To receive FREE Renee Rose books, click here.

Renee loves to connect with readers! Please visit her on:

Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Lee Savino has grandiose goals but most days can’t find her wallet or her keys so she just stays at home and writes. While she was studying creative writing at Hollins University, her first manuscript won the Hollins Fiction Prize.

She lives in Richmond, Va with her awesome family. You can find her on Facebook in the Goddess Group (which you totally should join).

Sign up for her newsletter here: http://bredbytheberserkersfreebook.gr8.com/

Free read: Chapter One of Zandian Pet

[image error]Zandian Pet by Renee Rose
Chapter One

For a sex slave, there were worse gigs than Prium’s Intergalactic Lounge, aka sex emporium.

Mina stretched, arching her back and pushing her hips in the air before giving the fluffy blue tail in her ass a wiggle. She had seven males of three different species watching her window as she wriggled around behind the laser glass for their entertainment.

The work at Prium’s was nonstop, which some might find tiresome, but after five years closed up at Durhock’s, she found the stimulation invigorating.

No, not the sexual stimulation. That part had never done anything for her. Personally, she didn’t see what it was about sex that made males lose their minds.

One of the males watching rubbed his hands over his own man-nipples, and she took the cue and squeezed her breasts, lifting one to lick the nipple. She’d had years of training in turning males on.

The time Mina had spent as Durhock’s pet wasn’t overly taxing, though. All she’d had to do was obey his every command and look beautiful naked. Wear the collar, stupid fluffy ears pinned in her hair and a tail plug in her ass when he had guests. Service them when he’d ordered it. Service him when he’d demanded, but that wasn’t often. He’d had so many sex pets, they were mostly for display.

Show cats, the human slave, Leti, used to call them.

Leti. Veck, Mina missed her. She didn’t know what happened to her friend after her Bangardian master Durhock—the idiot—choked to death eating a piece of dried fruit. They all were auctioned off with the rest of his belongings. All she knew was Prium bought her for his sex emporium two lunar cycles ago, and there she was.

She caught the eye of one of the males and crawled slowly forward. Come into my cell. Some slaves preferred to dance and prance around alone to being selected for use by a customer, but not her. The more interaction she had with other beings, the greater her chance of figuring her way out of this place. She needed information, and she wasn’t going to get it rubbing her own lady-flower behind the laser screen.

No, she couldn’t have asked for a better place to be than Prium’s. Locked away in Durhock’s home, she’d never had a chance of escape, no hope of finding anything about her species, if any of them still existed. But here? Hundreds of beings came and went every planet rotation. She’d personally serviced forty already, which meant she’d heard all the news of the galaxy.

She already confirmed she wasn’t the only Zandian left alive. According to the Ocretion businessman who’d left that morning, Prince Zander survived and had amassed a small contingent of other survivors on a pod parked in Ocretion airspace. Maybe she was too optimistic, but she believed if she could get herself there, she’d be welcomed.

Her father had been the king’s Master Warrior, after all. That had to count for something. She’d lived in the royal palace before the Finn invaded. She remembered Prince Zander, already a handsome and skilled warrior in training with her father at the time of the invasion. And her father had probably died defending the king and queen.

So, now all she needed was to break out of the emporium and hitch a ride to Ocretion airspace. Which most would say was impossible, but if she’d learned anything from her father, it was focus and determination. There’s nothing you can’t do, he used to tell her and her younger sister, Talia. Decide what you want, or what needs to be done, and never let your mind wander from that goal.

She wouldn’t imagine her father’s opinion of her means of getting to her goal. Trading her flesh for knowledge. For opportunity. She couldn’t let the twist of shame free from the pit of her stomach. Someday, when she was free, she could take it out and examine it. For now, she’d do what she needed to do.

And she’d already made it one step closer to freedom. No, two. After careful study, she may have figured out a way to short out the laser wall that kept her caged. All she needed was a Zandian crystal.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t seen one since her planet was invaded by the Finn when she was just eight solar cycles.

The male she’d been attempting to lure in fisted his cock, watching her.

She licked her lips and sat back on her heels, curling a finger to beckon him in.

I can suck that cock for you, ugly Ocretion. Come in here so I can seduce you into taking me with you. Straight to Ocretia. Or her airspace, anyway.

 

~.~

 

Erick doubled back twice before landing his ship. Some vecker had been following him. He wouldn’t put it past the Finn to hire every mercenary in the galaxy to tail Zandians now that they knew Prince Zander had armed himself.

For now, he thought he was clear. Even if he wasn’t, they weren’t going to find anything out from his visit to Prium’s Intergalactic Lounge, the swanky sex club on the neutral planet of Aurelia, which was one of the reasons he’d chosen to stop there.

The club featured every flavor of copulation in the galaxy with just about any species.

Don’t want to participate? No problem! You can watch. At least thirty sex rooms had an invisible laser wall open to the lounge. He didn’t know what type of customer requested those rooms. Did it cost more to have your activity on display? Or did you get a discount? He’d never asked. Exhibitionism wasn’t his thing.

Prium’s was the place he stopped to let off steam during breeding season. When his biology raged at him to find a female and plant her with his seed. Too bad there weren’t any Zandian females left to implant.

At least, he’d believed there weren’t until two short planet rotations ago when two stunningly beautiful females had arrived in the palatial pod, leaving every male there senseless with lust. Which was why he’d chosen to get the hell off the space pod.

The females weren’t available, anyway. Talia, Master Seke’s daughter, came already mated to the warrior Tomis, and Eslyn seemed to be in relationship with three other criminals brought in from Zandia. Although judging by the rumors, she wished to shed herself of those males, which left every warrior in the pod clamoring to take their place, offering to share her like her previous mates had.

Sharing wasn’t Erick’s style, though. Even though he’d never had a relationship, he knew that instinctively about himself. He’d be a possessive vecker. If he had a Zandian female, he’d fight every male in the galaxy for her.

A stray nelot—one of the furry mammals usually kept as pets on Aurelia—curled around his ankles, blinking up at him. He bent and scratched its ears. “Sorry, I don’t have any food for you, little one. Zandians don’t eat often.” Only once every ten planet rotations, to be exact. Unless they were parted from Zandian crystal, the stone at the core of their planet, which gave them energy. The valuable gemstone behind the Finn’s invasion and massacre fifteen solar cycles ago.

The electronic doors sparked and zapped as he stepped through, but since he had no weaponry, he entered unharmed. The moment he entered, his muscles tightened with the anticipation of release.

Veck, he’d never needed to blow off steam more.

He’d just lost 750,000 steins of Prince Zander’s money.

In the years since the Finn took their planet, Erick had earned or helped Prince Zander earn millions through investments and business dealings. Wealth the Zandians desperately needed to wage war to regain their precious home. Wealth they’d used to buy airships and weaponry.

But he’d just come from his meeting with a broker empty-handed, his investment gone.

“Forgive me, Master Erick,” Behn, the pock-faced Eglentian broker who had put together the deal for three galactacarriers had said, twisting a giant Zandian crystal ring on his finger. Erick had traded him that crystal solar cycles before in another deal. “At this point, all I can tell you is that the deal has been delayed.”

Delayed his ass.

Although Behn had hidden it well, Erick recognized signs of his distress. The trickle of sweat running from his ear to his high ruffled collar, the ring twisting.

Erick’s fingers had twitched over the handle of his sword. He may be Prince Zander’s business and trade advisor, but he’d been warrior-trained by Master Seke, right along with the rest of them. No Zandian had gone unschooled except the very elderly, no matter what their role in the palatial pod was. They had a planet to recover and precious few of their species left alive.

Losing the bid to take back Zandia was unthinkable.

In the end, he’d left Behn alive, taking the crystal ring and an ancient Venusian talisman from his desk as collateral. It wasn’t Behn’s fault the seller had swindled him. Erick had left him with dire threats about recovering his funds. Not that he had much hope of ever seeing that money or the three galactacarriers.

The loss was a huge blow. They had precious few resources to win their planet back. It was a shame he preferred not to shoulder. He needed to salvage this situation because reporting his failure to Zander was not an option.

But until he eased the throb of his cock, avidly campaigning for him to storm the pod upon his return and spread the legs of one or both of those new female inhabitants, he wouldn’t be able to think.

So, Prium’s it was.

He skipped the lounge, pulsing with a hypnotic reverberation designed to lower one’s inhibitions. It didn’t help the heaviness in his loins. He went straight for a bidding room, where he could view holograms of the available females and purchase an hour or two with one.

Prium, himself, was behind the counter, and when he saw Erick, he sauntered over. Tall, slender, and pinky-white skinned, with pale, almost silver eyes, Prium, like most Aurelians, possessed an austere beauty. Even the males appeared feminine, with long, delicate fingers and elongated skulls. He wore a flowing, fur-lined robe in pale yellow and had intricately embroidered slippers with curling, pointy toes. “Welcome to Prium’s, Master…”

“Erick.”

“Master Erick. Yes, welcome back. I have just the female for you today.”

Something about the way Prium said it, or the assumption behind the words, made the back of Erick’s neck prickle. His hand drifted to his sword belt, but, of course, he’d stowed all weaponry in the ship. Excrement. He hated being unarmed.

“No trust me, you’ll love my newest acquisition,” the glamorous pimp drawled.

Erick had a personal rule about never believing any being who said trust me, so he kept his face impassive and waited. Why had he been targeted by Prium for this sales pitch? He wasn’t a frequent customer, nor a heavy spender. Something about it felt off, like a setup.

Prium launched a hologram, and it all became as clear as Zandian crystal. Not a setup. Ice flashed through his flesh, followed by prickles of heat. His fingers cranked closed into fists.

Prium has a Zandian female.

It took every ounce of control not to throw himself at the peddler of flesh and choke that smug look right off his face.

A Zandian female being kept as a sex slave?

Over his dead body. He would vecking kill Prium for dishonoring one of his species. Never mind the fact that enslaving a Zandian was illegal because his species was recognized by the United Galaxies.

But he’d negotiated hundreds of deals. Knowing better than to show any emotion, he gave the hologram a bored glance. “Interesting. Where did you find her?”

The hologram rotated, and prickles raced down his arms. Though her hair had been bleached to a human shade of reddish blonde, he recognized the female.

Taramina. Seke’s other missing daughter.

“Her name is Mina. I bought her in a lot of slaves from a private collection. Aurelian. The previous owner used them as pets.”

Oh no. He did not vecking say that.

Erick swallowed down his rage. His nails bit into the flesh of his palms, but he forced a calm he didn’t feel to radiate from his shoulders, his face. Plastering on a bored countenance, he said, “All right. I’ll give her a try.”

“No privates with this one. You can only have her in a mainstage cell.”

Every cell is his body revolted against that idea. He needed to get the female alone. Not to veck her—he couldn’t touch Seke’s daughter, not unless he wanted a quick death at the hands of the Master at Arms.

“How much for a private?” Now, he looked too damn eager. Damn, he hadn’t wanted to show his hand.

Prium’s generous mouth stretched into a toothy smile. He hadn’t been fooled to begin with. “Stage cell only. She’s one of my top exhibits.”

Vecking hell.

“Fine. Why don’t you show her to me?”

Read now (free with KindleUnlimited)

 

(c) Renee Rose Romance

 

 

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Backlist Feature – His Human Rebel

I recently polled readers in my Facebook group which stand-alone Zandian Masters book was their favorite and was delighted to find the majority loved my favorite, too– His Human Rebel. This one has less of a master/slave feel, although there’s plenty of dominant sex. It’s more consensual and claim-y than the punishment/humiliation of some of the other books.

CONSCRIPTED BY AN ALIEN ARMY, SHE PLOTS HER ESCAPE…

Cambry doesn’t believe the aliens’ propaganda for one minute. The Zandians may have saved her from one death, but they planned to send her to another. She bides her time, waiting for her chance to get away and find her brother, enslaved by a different species. The only thing she didn’t count on was Lundric, the tempting Zandian warrior who, for some reason, decided she was his female.

Lundric knew the fierce little rebel Cambry belonged to him the moment he saw her toss that auburn hair in defiance. He knows she hasn’t accepted him or the Zandian’s cause, but he vows to win her, no matter what it takes. But when Cambry steals a ship and attempts to escape, even his harshest punishment may not restore the trust between them.

Read now (Free with KU)
















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★★★ RENEE ROSE/ PRIVATE KINK & BOOK DISCUSSION GROUP ★★★

Are you interested in D/s? In a D/s relationship? Like to hear from couples who are? I have a *private* FB group (anything you post or like there won’t show up on your page). We have regular kink-life discussions and it’s a supportive, safe place to share. If you want to join, please friend me on FB (it’s a hoop FB makes me jump through) then send me a message to add you to the Romper Room. If you don’t hear back right away, shoot me an email–sometimes I miss FB messages.

Alpha’s Danger (Book 2 in Bad Boy Alphas Series is LIVE!)

Alpha’s Danger by Renee Rose & Lee Savino is NOW LIVE!

Grab it on Amazon NOW: http://amzn.to/2vYAGAe

#FREE with Kindle Unlimited!

“YOU BROKE THE RULES, LITTLE HUMAN. I OWN YOU NOW.”

I am an alpha wolf, one of the youngest in the States. I can pick any she-wolf in the pack for a mate. So why am I sniffing around the sexy human attorney next door? The minute I catch Amber’s sweet scent, my wolf wants to claim her.

Hanging around is a bad idea, but I don’t play by the rules. Amber acts all prim and proper, but she has a secret, too. She may not want her psychic abilities, but they’re a gift.

I should let her go, but the way she fights me only makes me want her more. When she learns what I am, there’s no escape for her. She’s in my world, whether she likes it or not. I need her to use her gifts to help recover my missing sister—and I won’t take no for an answer.

She’s mine now.

Publisher’s Note: Alpha’s Danger is a stand-alone book in the Bad Boy Alpha’s series. HEA guaranteed, no cheating. This book contains a hot, demanding alpha wolf with a penchant for protecting and dominating his female. If such material offends you, do not buy this book.

READ NOW

About the Authors:

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA’s Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews’ Best Historical, Best Erotic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She’s hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams. To receive FREE Renee Rose books, click here.

Renee loves to connect with readers! Please visit her on:

Blog | Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Pinterest | Instagram

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR Lee Savino has grandiose goals but most days can’t find her wallet or her keys so she just stays at home and writes. While she was studying creative writing at Hollins University, her first manuscript won the Hollins Fiction Prize.

She lives in Richmond, Va with her awesome family. You can find her on Facebook in the Goddess Group (which you totally should join).

Sign up for her newsletter here: http://bredbytheberserkersfreebook.gr8.com/

Royally Mine: 22 All-New Bad Boy Romance Novellas

[image error][image error]Check out the cover for ROYALLY MINE!

22 Royal BAD BOYS are only 99c!

Check out the cover & Preorder NOW!

http://www.royallymine.com/

 

Powerful kings. Dirty-talking princes. Insatiable dukes.

They’re ready to rule your heart.

Royally Mine is a sexy collection of bad boy romances featuring HOT royal heroes, brought to you by twenty-two New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling authors. This deliciously naughty bundle of ALL-NEW standalone novellas stars panty-scorching kings, princes, and dukes who are used to being in command. Charge up your e-reader, clear your schedule, and put on your best tiara, because these royal bad boys are ready to conquer your heart while making you blush oh so hard.

Featured authors: Susan Stoker, Annabel Joseph, Katy Regnery, Nikki Sloane, Renee Rose, Molly O’Keefe, Alta Hensley, Nora Flite, Natasha Knight, Sue Lyndon, Jenika Snow, Maggie Ryan, Celeste Jones, Lee Savino, Livia Grant, Alexis Alvarez, Rayanna James, Ava Sinclair, Addison Cain, Jennifer Bene, Becca Jameson, Mikey Lee

Amazon

iBooks → http://apple.co/2u6yuZo

Nook → http://bit.ly/2uFaeud

Kobo → http://bit.ly/2u0tTqv