Naughty In Nice is LIVE!
Guys, so excited to announce that NAUGHTY IN NICE is LIVE today, and available on Amazon and Kindle Unlimited. Oooh-la-la, is this one hot… https://amzn.to/3YUMVv6
Do you crave:
*Brawny beardy alpha heroes with filthy mouths?
*Kick-ass heroines who slay the above with a single look?
*Exotic locales, snarky humor, and h-h-hot-as-hell scenes?
Then make haste, and get set to meet my latest blue-collar bad boy, Frank ‘Oil Can’ Frazier. (Yeah, they don’t call him Oil Can for nothing, wink, wink.)
Downloads and reviews mucho appreciated!
https://amzn.to/3YUMVv6
Book Three, STEAMY IN SAINT-TROPEZ hits in one month! https://amzn.to/3stOGTW (preorder!)
Enjoy this tasty tease:
“Hey, Frank. Jeez, that bathroom line took freaking forever. And I had to use the tissues in my bag when I finally got into a stall. Good thing I was prepared.”
Sexy Reina was at my side, not even reaching to the middle of my chest despite those chunky biker boots she was rocking.
She cut big eyes toward the lady blabbing on the terminal microphone.
“Ugh. Sounds crappy, huh? Emergency diverted to the middle of nowhere, and now having to share rooms with someone in this one-horse town? Man, I hope I don’t get stuck with Red Licorice.”
“Who?”
I looked down, trying not to stare at her tits—the babies out in the open and as equally stellar as her luscious ass, now that she’d shed the camo jacket she’d worn on the flight.
“Here, gimme that thing, or set it down.”
Gruffing, I jerked my chin at it as two perky, palm-sized mounds pointed straight at me, showcased to perfection in a snug yellow pullover… shit as obvious as the fat bastard swelling behind my zipper that missy didn’t bother with annoying little garments like bras.
Goddamn.
I angled sideways to hide my hard-on, tearing my gaze from shadowy nipples poking against soft fabric.
This girl, Christ. Face, legs, T & A… Fuck me, the whole jack-off package, pretty as you please.
“Oh, Red Licorice?”
Reina giggled mischievously, plopping down her bag and answering my previous grunt.
“She was the candy lover sitting next to you in row 14 whose seat I stole. Girl was scarfing down the strings like no tomorrow.”
“Right.”
Nodding like I remembered, I dismissed crap I could care less about, a crazy idea forming.
“Hey, lemme know if you think this is nuts, but…”
My neck turned hot as I gnawed my lip.
“If they do run outta rooms… Between rapping on the plane and all this waitin’ around, we sorta know each other now—last names, general stats, favorite pizza toppings… I’d feel better having you under my watch, rather than you bunking with whoever, a total stranger.”
Reina blinked, not comprehending, and I plowed on painfully, my voice hoarse.
“That is, I could crash on the floor, and you could take the bed, wherever we end up. I told you I was a Marine; I’m used to a helluva lot worse for a pillow besides a scratchy motel carpet.”
Splotches of hot-pink stained Reina’s cheeks, matching that skinny braid in her hair as she blinked again.
“You… you’re saying we share a room?”
Her lashes fluttered down, and she peeked through them, adorable as fuck.
“But didn’t they just say solo travelers team up by sex?”
“Yeah, but they don’t know we aren’t single.”
I shifted on my shitkickers, feeling like a schoolboy trying to score.
“You don’t have to worry about me; I got a long list of military honors after my name I could show you. We, uh, we could pretend we’re a couple, like dating, strictly for show.”
Dark eyes glowed under those curly lashes as Reina bit her own lip and murmured back.
“Or even… engaged.”
Fuck!
My solid cock jerked at her suggestion, and I quickly bent and hoisted the beat-up duffle at my boots—hovering the leather midair in front of my crotch, which had to look ridiculous.
“Sure, engaged.”
I croaked an agreement, not believing it was that easy. That this walking and talking goddess was on board with my spontaneous scheme.
And to think I’d been one tiny computer click away from picking tomorrow for my departure date, as opposed to today!
Thank you, extra thirty bucks per ticket.
Do you crave:
*Brawny beardy alpha heroes with filthy mouths?
*Kick-ass heroines who slay the above with a single look?
*Exotic locales, snarky humor, and h-h-hot-as-hell scenes?
Then make haste, and get set to meet my latest blue-collar bad boy, Frank ‘Oil Can’ Frazier. (Yeah, they don’t call him Oil Can for nothing, wink, wink.)
Downloads and reviews mucho appreciated!
https://amzn.to/3YUMVv6
Book Three, STEAMY IN SAINT-TROPEZ hits in one month! https://amzn.to/3stOGTW (preorder!)
Enjoy this tasty tease:
“Hey, Frank. Jeez, that bathroom line took freaking forever. And I had to use the tissues in my bag when I finally got into a stall. Good thing I was prepared.”
Sexy Reina was at my side, not even reaching to the middle of my chest despite those chunky biker boots she was rocking.
She cut big eyes toward the lady blabbing on the terminal microphone.
“Ugh. Sounds crappy, huh? Emergency diverted to the middle of nowhere, and now having to share rooms with someone in this one-horse town? Man, I hope I don’t get stuck with Red Licorice.”
“Who?”
I looked down, trying not to stare at her tits—the babies out in the open and as equally stellar as her luscious ass, now that she’d shed the camo jacket she’d worn on the flight.
“Here, gimme that thing, or set it down.”
Gruffing, I jerked my chin at it as two perky, palm-sized mounds pointed straight at me, showcased to perfection in a snug yellow pullover… shit as obvious as the fat bastard swelling behind my zipper that missy didn’t bother with annoying little garments like bras.
Goddamn.
I angled sideways to hide my hard-on, tearing my gaze from shadowy nipples poking against soft fabric.
This girl, Christ. Face, legs, T & A… Fuck me, the whole jack-off package, pretty as you please.
“Oh, Red Licorice?”
Reina giggled mischievously, plopping down her bag and answering my previous grunt.
“She was the candy lover sitting next to you in row 14 whose seat I stole. Girl was scarfing down the strings like no tomorrow.”
“Right.”
Nodding like I remembered, I dismissed crap I could care less about, a crazy idea forming.
“Hey, lemme know if you think this is nuts, but…”
My neck turned hot as I gnawed my lip.
“If they do run outta rooms… Between rapping on the plane and all this waitin’ around, we sorta know each other now—last names, general stats, favorite pizza toppings… I’d feel better having you under my watch, rather than you bunking with whoever, a total stranger.”
Reina blinked, not comprehending, and I plowed on painfully, my voice hoarse.
“That is, I could crash on the floor, and you could take the bed, wherever we end up. I told you I was a Marine; I’m used to a helluva lot worse for a pillow besides a scratchy motel carpet.”
Splotches of hot-pink stained Reina’s cheeks, matching that skinny braid in her hair as she blinked again.
“You… you’re saying we share a room?”
Her lashes fluttered down, and she peeked through them, adorable as fuck.
“But didn’t they just say solo travelers team up by sex?”
“Yeah, but they don’t know we aren’t single.”
I shifted on my shitkickers, feeling like a schoolboy trying to score.
“You don’t have to worry about me; I got a long list of military honors after my name I could show you. We, uh, we could pretend we’re a couple, like dating, strictly for show.”
Dark eyes glowed under those curly lashes as Reina bit her own lip and murmured back.
“Or even… engaged.”
Fuck!
My solid cock jerked at her suggestion, and I quickly bent and hoisted the beat-up duffle at my boots—hovering the leather midair in front of my crotch, which had to look ridiculous.
“Sure, engaged.”
I croaked an agreement, not believing it was that easy. That this walking and talking goddess was on board with my spontaneous scheme.
And to think I’d been one tiny computer click away from picking tomorrow for my departure date, as opposed to today!
Thank you, extra thirty bucks per ticket.
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