Twisted Up by Lissa Matthews
Twisted Up by Lissa Matthews coming December 20, 2011 from Samhain Publishing!
One rope. Three days. And two hearts on the line.
Justin has had enough. Ella, the woman who healed his broken heart, has been cancelling on him for two months straight. Sure, she's busy with her job, which has her traveling far and wide. But that never stopped her from sharing nights of trivia, long conversations and blazing hot sex—until now. Truth to tell, he misses their easy friendship, the way her sighs fill his ear as he fills her body.
What he can't figure out is, what's changed?
At work, Ella finds it easy to talk to rooms full of strangers. Once back at her lonely apartment, though, she's back to her painfully shy self—until Justin. Their chance meeting grew over the months into a year-long affair, but she can't shake the feeling that rejection and pain are just around the corner. Best thing to do? End it now, before their intimacy digs too deep.
Suddenly he's at her door with a length of neon-green rope and a naughty proposition, daring her to say no. Just how good could it be? There's only one way to find out…
Warning: The sheets are tangled, the hat is crumpled, and the jeans are worn low on the hips. The cowboy is hot, determined, and helpless in the face of bunny slippers. Readers may need extra batteries to get this one out of their system.
Naughty Excerpt:
"Gonna have to get you some boots to wear around here. Can't have you walking in those cutesy shoes and fuck-me-heels all the time."
Ella yelped, and her hand flew to the flesh over her heart as she looked over at him. She hadn't heard him coming, hadn't heard… Her gaze immediately began to drink him in. Damn, he looked good all dirty and sweaty in faded jeans that looked about worn through in all the right places and a dark blue T-shirt with faded writing on the front. A tan cowboy hat was plastered to his head and his brown boots were scuffed with dirt and scrapes and well worn. He was every inch a cowboy. He was every inch her cowboy. The reality of that hit her square in the stomach. "What about bunny slippers?"
"Nah, we'll save those. You like to wear those when we fuck."
His outright crudeness should have probably shocked her, but it didn't. "Yeah, okay. Plus, I don't want to get them dirty."
"No more than they already are after last night. Probably made the poor bunnies blush."
"Eh." She shrugged. "They're bunnies. They're used to such things."
He grabbed her by the waist and hauled her against him.. "They better not have seen any action before us last night."
The look in his eyes wasn't a happy, teasing look. Jealousy? It never occurred to her that Justin would ever be jealous of her or that he would think she would have been with someone else all these months. She'd been asked out, but she'd always said noShould she date others? Should she play the field a bit? Maybe it wasn't just Justin who could make her feel the things he did.
As she stood against him, with his arms holding her tight and imprisoned against his body… No, no one else would be able to do for her what he did, and she didn't want to date a bunch of guys in search of something she already had.
"No. No one else has seen me naked with bunny slippers. No one else has had sex with me while I wore my bunny slippers. Only you."
"Good. I might not be too sure about the kinkiness of bunny slippers and sex, but I sure don't want anyone else seeing how sexy and cute you are wearing them when you're naked and wet and have your legs spread wide."
He bent his head and nuzzled her neck, tipping the hat off his head in the process. She caught it before it dropped farther down and placed it on her own head. He smelled like the outdoors—grass, dirt, horses. The ends of his hair dripped sweat and his neck was streaked with dirt, but she didn't care. She slid her hands under his T-shirt, flicked his nipples with her fingers and was rewarded with a bite to her earlobe before sliding her hands around to his back and down to the waistband of his jeans.
He was lean, his body honed from hard work and manual labor, not built in a gym. She'd always liked that about him—that he didn't work behind a desk. It wasn't that she had anything against men in offices; she just liked the blue-collar men, the ones who had physical jobs best. She felt safe with men like that. She felt they could take care of her physically, take care of her if something went wrong and she was in need.
She also realized that that probably sounded silly, but men like Justin with jobs and hobbies such as he had turned her on.
"What're you thinkin'?"
"Huh?" she uttered against his throat.
"Your breathing has gotten all hot and heavy."
"Uh-huh." She nodded and licked a trail up from his Adam's apple to his chin.
"You're playin' with fire, baby." But he slid his hand up into her ponytail just the same.
"You started it." Ella stood on tiptoes and continued licking her way up his chin until she could reach his mouth. He met her in a swirl of tongues. His jeans were loose enough she could slide her hands down inside the back of them to grab and squeeze his ass. His—"You're not wearing any underwear," she whispered against his mouth, continuing to kiss and nibble on his lips.
"Nope," he whispered back, allowing her all the freedom she wanted to explore him.
"Naughty boy."
"You should know."
"Well," she said as she slid her hands around to the front of his jeans, smiling when he sucked in his already flat stomach. She felt the fluttering of his muscles against her fingers and gave a soft purr of delight. She loved the effect she had on him because it mirrored the effect he had on her, "since you're sans underwear, you should be sans jeans too."
Buttons were popped open and denim was urged down his hips just enough for his cock to spring out, the head peeking from the surrounding skin. She wanted to lean over and slide her tongue over the tip, wrap her hand around the shaft and slide the foreskin farther down so she could suck him but good.
"I was right, huh?"
She didn't need to be reminded what he was talking about. "Yeah, you were right." One time early on, he'd told her that once she got a taste and feel for an uncircumcised penis, she'd never want to go back to one that was circumcised. He hadn't been kidding in his boasting and cockiness. She hadn't known what the difference was and because they'd always used condoms during sex, he said she hadn't gotten the full benefit yet of him being uncut.
She hoped one day to find out every inch of the full benefit.
As it was, she didn't think she'd ever get enough of looking at the uncut perfection. His was the first and only uncut penis she'd ever played with or had the pleasure of and she loved it. He seemed to take great pride in the fact he wasn't circumcised. The extra-sensitive head when she touched him, the way the foreskin slid back and forth when he thrust in her hand was an added sexiness she hadn't expected, like an erotic game of peek-a-boo.
She started to kneel. She wanted a taste of him, but he held her up and shook his head. "No time for that, baby. I need to bend you over the railing there and fuck you silly."
Ella pouted but wasn't a bit disappointed. Him fucking her was turning out to be a necessity. Once a day might be enough for right now, but if she spent much more time with him, it wasn't going to be.
He let her go, and she walked over to the log railing of the loft and looked over the edge. Directly below her was a brown couch with tapestry-covered pillows. She couldn't make out the designs but thought they were horse scenes. In the corner of the couch was her laptop bag.
Justin's hand on her hip brought her immediately back to him and what he wanted, what she wanted. She started to take her sweater off, but he stayed her hand there too. "Nope. Just push the pants down enough that I can get to you, and you need to hurry."
She looked over her shoulder to find him slowly stroking the cock she wanted to be on her knees sucking, and for a minute, she thought to do just that no matter what he said, but the look in his eyes kept her on her feet, freeing the snap and lowering the zipper of her brown slacks.
He had them down to her knees and her bent forward before she could take another breath. She heard the foil of a condom rip, heard him mutter how he hated using the damn things, heard his sigh and hiss of pleasure when he reached between her legs and found her, "Wet. Damn, you're so fucking wet, baby. Spread as wide as you can for me."
She did, as wide as her pants around her knees would allow.
Pre-Order Twisted Up here!
To learn more about Lissa and her writing, visit her website: lissamatthews.com
