Two for One Contest!

Leave a comment on this post and enter the drawing for an e-book copy of Cutting Cords and the sequel Vessel which will release on Friday, October 7. One name will be drawn tomorrow evening.




Here's an excerpt of Vessel, book 2 in the Cutting Cords universe.


I stood abruptly and knocked over the chair. It clattered on the tile floor, and I bent to pick it up just as Trent walked in.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"You look pissed."

"Ya think?"

"What happened?"

"None of your business," I yelled.

"Hey, take it easy."

I stopped fuming long enough to notice that Trent was wearing lounging pants which hung far too low on his hips. Bloody fucking great! His lightly furred chest was chiseled in all the right places, and I couldn't help but notice the love trail starting above his navel and disappearing underneath the waistband of his pants. My hard-on returned in full force.

"Leave me alone, will you?"

"Don't get all weirded out."

"I'm not!"

"You've been in a bad mood since dinner. What's your deal?"

"Didn't I tell you to mind your own business?"

"Sorry. I was trying to help."

"I don't need your kind of help," I spat out. In retrospect, I'm amazed he stood there and didn't hit me in the jaw. I couldn't have been more obnoxious.

"Knock on my bedroom door if you want to talk."

"Don't hold your breath, buddy."

"We're not all bad guys, you know?"

"Who's "we"?"

"Dominants."

"Oh, please…let's not start that shit again."

"Just saying, Sloan. Don't knock it if you haven't tried it." He turned those sapphire eyes on me and damn if my cock didn't react. My body was responding on a visceral level while my brain kept fighting this attraction that had come out of left field.

"I have tried it, Trent. With Max."

"And he's the first one to admit he did it wrong," Trent said, moving toward me very slowly like a lion approaching a trembling gazelle. "Don't you think it would be worth another try? Second time's the charm."

"What part of 'partner' don't you get? I'm in a relationship and have absolutely no interest in you or your second chance."

"Why am I getting so many mixed signals?"

"What are you talking about"" I said, backing into the refrigerator. I was trapped. When he was close enough, he reached for my face and held it in between his hands. I didn't realize how large they were until they spanned my entire head. It felt like I was caught in a vice. "Your mouth is saying no, but this," he whispered, rubbing his groin against mine in slow, torturous moves, "is saying yes."

"Stop it," I said shakily. It was impossible to hide the erection that was about to stick out of my pants. He licked my mouth, tracing my lips with his tongue very, very slowly. I couldn't stop the whimper that escaped my throat. "Please."

"I do love that word," he said huskily. "Say it again, Sloan."

Pushing him away, I scampered over to the other side of the room, like the aforementioned gazelle. He was going to have to run to catch me. "Stay away, Trent. My body might be reacting, but that's a physical thing I can't control. My mind, on the other hand, knows better."

"Go on, Sloan. Run and pretend you don't feel the attraction. You'll be back and then maybe you'll see that I was right all along."

"I'm so out of here," I mumbled, leaving him standing there with his boner tenting his pants and his dimples mocking me.

I knocked on Max's bedroom door and walked in to find the room in complete darkness.

"What is it?" I heard him rumbling from somewhere to the right.

"I need to talk to you."

"Get in bed."

"What? I don't want to get in bed with you."

"I'm not getting up so if you want to talk to me lie down."

I felt my way over to the empty side of the bed, toed off my sneakers, and slid in under the comforter. "This is beyond strange, Max."

"Shut up and tell me what's wrong. I need my six hours."

"I can't do the Brit shoot."

"Yes you can, and you will."

"I just had another run-in with Trent."

"So? Deal with it."

"It wasn't that kind of run-in."

"Oh?"

"Nothing happened."

"But you wish it had, and you're freaking out and wanting Uncle Max to fix it. I'm too old to give hand jobs."

I kicked him in the thigh.

"Ouch!"

"I don't need your hand job, thank you very much. I have my own hand, and it works just fine."

"Like I said," Max huffed and put his arm over his eyes. "Deal with it."

"You're as comforting as a cold compress."

"Damn it, Sloan," Max sat up and shoved a couple of pillows up against the headboard. "I'm up and listening. Tell me what the fuck is wrong with you."

"I don't know."

"Well, I do. You're horny and Trent's driving you nuts."

"Yeah," I whispered. "How am I going to resist?"