I’m having a great start to 2013 – two single-author releases out already, and hopefully many more to come! The Military Wife is my latest, and is a collection of three military-themed erotic romance stories.
Here’s the blurb:
Three hot and romantic military tales from the pen of uniform aficionado, Lucy Felthouse.
The Military Wife
Tess’ salacious fantasies about her husband, Aidan, see her through the long periods of time when she doesn’t see him—when he’s away on tour with the Army. The rest of the time, she has to deal with day to day life alone. One day, a dull chore is interrupted by the unexpected arrival of her husband, and things quickly hot up in their kitchen, and beyond.
Passing Out Passion
When Christina attends her brother’s passing out parade with her parents, she’s full of pride at his achievement. What she’s not expecting, though, is to bump into old flame Phil Ashdown. They didn’t part on good terms and the atmosphere between them is awkward. But when they’re forced into conversation, it turns out that all those years ago, there was a misunderstanding. One that can very easily be put right.
Double Vision
Becky’s a military wife with a uniform fetish. She loves nothing more than having fun in the bedroom with her squaddie husband, where they share and act out many of their fantasies. However, there’s one fantasy that she’s never divulged, as it breaks their rule about bring other people into their sex life. One day, though, Becky decides to bite the bullet and tell Paul everything. She never expects him to make her fantasy come true. But then, Paul’s a very resourceful man.
And an excerpt:
Tess grumbled to herself as she heaved the shopping bags out of the boot of her car. It was a pain in the arse having to do this all by herself. Yet she’d been through this more than once, and it was going to be for the foreseeable future. May as well just get on with it and shut up moaning, she thought.
Just as she got to her front door and started fumbling for her key, risking dropping all her bags in the process, a voice said,
“Let me help you with that.”
Tess dropped the bags.
She whirled to face the owner of the voice, unadulterated joy on her face.
“Aidan!” she shrieked. And, without caring who could be watching, she hurled herself into her husband’s arms. Luckily, Aidan had been fully expecting this kind of greeting and had braced himself. Supporting his wife’s bottom with his hands as her legs clasped around his waist, he felt himself stiffening almost immediately. You couldn’t blame him though, it had been months since he’d been home.
As she took his face in her hands, Tess was almost teary with happiness. She leaned in for a kiss that would show her husband exactly how much she’d missed him. Tightening her legs around him, she smiled into his mouth as she felt his erection nudging against her bottom.
What seemed like hours later, the couple finally came up for air. Surveying the damage around them, Tess made a quick decision.
“Grab the other bags while I dump this lot in the kitchen. Then lock the door behind you and get upstairs.”
Grinning, Aidan moved to do as he was told. Tess scrabbled items back into carrier bags and rushed into their home to put them down. Now the kitchen looked like a bomb had hit it. But she didn’t care. Her man was home. Smiling to herself, she turned as Aidan came in with the rest of the bags. She gestured to the floor and he put them down.
“Corporal Scott reporting for duty ma’am,” he said, snapping her a smart salute.
Bastard, she thought, he knows what it does to me when he goes all military on me. We’ll be lucky to make it upstairs at this rate.
Tess drank in every inch of her husband. The climate in Afghanistan had given him a decent tan, but of course he hadn’t been on holiday. He’d been fighting a war, and she was eternally grateful that he’d come back to her in one piece. He was still wearing his combats, with the regulation boots, but no headgear. He looked hot.
“Come here, soldier,” she said, crooking a finger, “and kiss me.”
I’m delighted to announce the release of Loose Ends, from Resplendence Publishing. It’s actually a re-release, so if the blurb and excerpt sound familiar, please check to make sure you haven’t already read the book
It’s an erotic romance short story with a reunion/second chances theme. Here’s the blurb:
When Jonathan and Lauren met at University, it should have been the beginning of a beautiful relationship. Sadly, it wasn’t to be, and Jonathan became ‘the one that got away.’ Years later, at a University reunion, Jonathan shows up unexpectedly throwing Lauren into turmoil. The pair start talking, and soon all the old feelings come back. But will this time be different, or will their mutual affection continue to be unrequited?
And here’s an excerpt:
When Kat had called to tell me about the five-year University reunion, my reaction had been, “So?”
“Whaddya mean, so? You have to come! It’ll be a laugh. We’ll be able to find out how everyone’s getting on, what they’ve done with their lives and stuff.”
“Why do you want to know how everyone’s getting on? You’ve never bothered before and nor have I. I’ve only ever kept in touch with you and Alex, and there’s a bloody good reason for that.”
“Stop being such a stick in the mud! Come on, not everyone was that bad. There might be some interesting stories to hear. Somebody could be rich or famous. Or both!”
I stopped resisting. When Kat had a plan, it was futile to object.
So there I was with Kat and Alex, heading into the Student Union bar. I pushed open the double doors. It was as if we’d walked into some kind of time warp. The bar itself looked almost the same, a lick of paint here and there, but nothing major. As for the people, they seemed to have changed even less. Sure, they were better dressed (well, some of them were) and a little older, but everyone was the same.
The loner was still loitering at the very end of the bar, not engaging with anyone. The geeks had gravitated toward one another. The popular kids were strutting their stuff, their conversation no doubt as mindless and dull as it had always been. Kat, Alex and I were still hanging around together.
Nobody seemed to have brought partners. I hadn’t actually seen any information regarding the event. My intel had all come from Kat, so maybe partners weren’t invited. Or perhaps everyone just wanted to come alone and re-enact their young, free and single days.
Either way, it was going to be a looong night. I headed for the bar with Kat and Alex close behind.
“What’ll it be?” asked the barman, who looked to be a current student earning some extra cash. I suddenly felt old, despite not looking that much older than him.
“Make mine a vodka and Coke, no ice, please.”
As I turned to the girls to find out what they wanted, I saw the class busybody walking toward us. She smiled and waved.
“Better make that a double,” I amended. Then under my breath, “I think I’m gonna need it.”
Soon I remembered why I hadn’t been up for this in the first place. The busybody was driving me up the wall. My face and neck hurt from all the smiling and nodding. Jenny, or whatever her name was, was currently on maternity leave from her (wonderful) job. Her “perfect” husband had stayed home to look after their “delightful” children so she could come to the reunion and see how everyone was getting on. Despite this statement, she hadn’t asked any of us a single question. She was too busy talking about herself.
I zoned out of Jenny’s inane chatter and stared into the middle distance. Suddenly, something moved into my line of sight that snapped me back into the land of the living. Or should I say someone.
“Fuck!” I exclaimed, gaining a disapproving look from Mrs. Busybody and puzzled ones from the girls.
Promotions director Reese Regan isn’t a sex goddess and doesn’t want to be. But the job of her dreams requires enrollment in the renowned Sex Goddess 101. To avoid a trip to the unemployment line, Reese must pass the program and become Chicago’s next seductress—or at least fake it convincingly. Her best friend, the ruggedly sexy contractor Ben Hawk, helps her “fake” her way through the program, and the heat between them flares. When trust is broken and secrets are revealed, it appears they’ve traded years-long friendship for temporary passion. Will faking something so important cost them their chance at something real?
Excerpt:
Ben stifled a grin. “Please tell me she’s making you burn your bras.” He signaled to the door with his thumb. “I think I have some lighter fluid at the house.”
“What? Of course she’s not.” She scowled. “Cripes. I hope not.”
Ben’s eyes dropped south for a second. “You know, bras are a sign of repression.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop being a dork, and read the letter.”
Ben frowned. “You’re taking this program more seriously than I thought you would.”
Reese snorted. “No, I’ve just gotten really good at faking it.”
“The new outfit doesn’t look fake. Or the makeup.” He crossed his arms, realizing what had been bothering him since she walked in the door. “I thought you hated contacts. Where are your glasses?”
She waved a hand dismissively. “Just read it.”
Say goodbye to your panties. For the next week, you’ll be going commando, forcing your mind to acknowledge the parts of your body too often left as an afterthought.
He grunted. “No wonder my guys want their wives to sign up.”
“Spoken like a true male. Foregoing underwear isn’t sexy, it’s…it’s…unsanitary.”
He shook his head. “It’s sexy.”
“What if I’m doing yard work?”
“Sexy.”
She crossed her arms. “Or I’m working out?”
“Still sexy.”
Reese leaned forward. “Or want to wear a skirt?”
Ben narrowed his eyes. “Now you’re just tormenting me.”
—-
Lexi is awarding a “pamper your inner sex goddess” gift basket (bath products, books from her backlist and candles – US ONLY) to one randomly drawn commenter, and a $25 Amazon or B&N gift card, winner’s choice, to another randomly drawn commenter during the tour.
Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:
Author of both contemporary and paranormal romance, Lexi Ryan writes smart, spunky stories that sizzle. She enjoys reading, sunshine, a good glass of wine, and rare trips to the beach with her husband and children.
Lexi lives in Indiana where she divides her time between her family, her writing, and her job as an English professor. You can find her at her website: lexiryan.com
Marco D’Allesandro has a destiny he wants no part of—running his family’s Italian olive oil empire. Against his family’s wishes, he moves to America to pursue his dream of becoming a professional bull rider and is at the pinnacle of his career, but his family wants him home. Things only get more complicated when he meets Natalie Webster, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed angel who’s got problems of her own.
Their chemistry is explosive from the beginning, and both find themselves in a situation they never thought they would—they’re falling in love. Natalie has had a rough time of it lately, and it’s tempting to let naturally protective Marco take care of her. Both in and out of bed. Marco discovers he relishes the role and wants to keep Natalie close. Really close.
But Natalie’s situation in life and Marco’s continued battle with his family threaten to tear them apart. Neither of them was looking for forever, but might have found their true destiny in each other.
Braden Donnghal, the first American born, Irish-Scottish werewolf is packless after the death of his parents. In an effort to get back into the good graces of his parents’ former pack, he has to prove his worth by escorting the Alpha’s intended mate back to the pack. It seems easy enough – all he has to do is deliver her untouched by the next full moon for her claiming. He’s prepared to avoid the roving enemy soldiers, bombs and even Emma’s father, the feared MacDonald, but what he isn’t prepared for his reaction to the high-spirited but seductive Emma MacDonald. Or his unrelenting desire to claim her as his own. But if he does, he’ll be exiled if not killed on sight.
Emma MacDonald has been told since birth that her destiny is to give birth to the saviors of her race, twin russet wolves, in an upcoming racial war with the humans. But being a woman raised in the midst of the Great War, she is tired of war and vows to flout her father’s decree that she marry the neighboring Alpha of the Donnghal clan. When Braden arrives to escort her to the Donnghal Alpha she unprepared for his awakening of her wolf, which can only mean one thing. He’s her mate and her escape from her betrothal. If he mates her she doesn’t have to marry his uncle. Her hopes are dashed however when Braden cruelly rejects their bond. But that ceases to matter when the pack which Braden hopes to join turns on him.
Dakota is a simple Midwest girl, who has found her passion in storytelling at a young age. Her father always said she made up the craziest stories. Most remained unwritten though as writing wasn’t Dakota’s strong suit. That all changed in junior high when she took her first typing class. Problem solved for the dyslexic Dakota. There was no stopping her after that. She wrote her first novel her freshman year about a girl who could speak to animals on an old electric IBM typewriter her dad found at a garage sale. Now writing in several different genres, she is a published author with multiple books under her belt. When she isn’t writing, she’s the crazy mom of three wild Indians who are posing as her children, a loving wife to the man of her dreams and a full time Graphic Design Major at IADT.
Moving further into the solar, Emma looked around apprehensively, taking in every minute detail of her surroundings. Sniffing the air, she could scent nothing more than old books and the wood stacked next to the fireplace. Her father hadn’t been in the room for several hours it seemed. Thank God, because the book lined solar was her refuge from everything – the one place she could find peace. Latching the door behind her, she slipped around one of the two high winged back chairs. Tossing the thick lap-robe up and over her body, she settled into the chair. Her plan had seemed so simple when she’d plotted with Lettie – find a wolf to mate with – one that would bind her to him, but it seemed that each man she approached did nothing for her wolf. The bitch continues to lay dormant no matter which male comes sniffing around. If I didn’t know better I’d think she’s an omega – hiding from all. The low growl erupting from her throat told her of her wolf’s obvious feelings on the matter. She sighed – tired of trying to find a solution to a problem which wasn’t solvable. Perhaps running away would be best.
But even as she thought it, her wolf grunted. Strong and pure, the alpha bitch residing inside her would run from no man or beast – even if she didn’t deign to meet any of the prospective suitors Emma had paraded in front of her.
Snuggling deeper into the plush cushions, she continued to study the flames in the fireplace, and was just dropping off to sleep when the most intoxicating smell she’d ever scented teased her nostrils. With the hint of nutmeg and pine, her inner wolf’s ear perked up as she sniffed the air. Mate? Exhilaration chased away the lingering weariness. Turning her head, she got her first glimpse of the man who was her mate standing next to her father.
Tall and broad shouldered, his closely cropped dark hair and neat appearance smacked of time spent in the military but the bruising and swelling around his left eye and nose attested to the fact he’d been in a recent altercation. Then the scent of another female hit her nose. A low growl built in her throat at the idea. Her wolf began to pace in agitation and it was all she could do to keep her from springing on the unsuspecting man.
The Great Mac’s head swung in her direction.
“Emma-girl, there you are. Your mother has been looking all over for you.”
She rose with a low snarl before skirting around the wingback chair. The rumbling in her chest grew louder the closer she stalked to the pair. The stranger shifted a bit as he took in every detail of her. She felt the heat of his eyes stroking over her form and if she’d been a normal woman she’d have preened under his gaze. But she wasn’t, and with the musky scent of another aggravating her wolf, all Emma wanted to do was mark the man. He was hers and soon he’d accept the fact. She watched as his nostrils flared before he inhaled sharply. Immediately the knowledge of what they meant to each other washed over his face. His fists clenched as she closed the distance between them, but he held his ground despite the increasing noise her bitch was making.
“What’s wrong, lass? This is your betrothed’s surrogate. He’s here to marry you in his Alpha’s stead. You have no reason to be hostile.”
Her father’s whisper was ignored as she stopped with only inches separating her aching body from the male in front of her. She looking up into deep blue eyes, her fingers curling hesitantly against the broad expanse of his chest. He relaxed under her touch as she gave him a warning smile – his first mistake. One she was sure he’d be leery about in the future. Everyone in her pack knew to tread softly when Emma smiled in a certain way. It usually meant she was plotting bodily harm – and this time was no different. Her mate had allowed another to touch him – to take what was rightfully hers and it didn’t matter to her wolf that it’d been before her – she demanded that Emma show the man the error of his ways.
With her wolf’s first heat upon her, triggered by her mate’s presence, her fingernails grew into razor sharp talons as her voice became raspier. “Mine!” she hissed, before piercing into the heavy chest muscles under her palms – marking him. He stiffened as if he’d been hit by lightning as a low moan passed his parted lips. She flexed her fingers, digging deep – needing to impress upon him severity of giving another what she considered as hers.
“Fuck.” His head tipped back as his torso arched away from her – his lower body swayed towards hers. Against her stomach she felt an unfamiliar hardness – one which would’ve had her wolf purring – if wolves purred.
“Emma Rose MacDonald! Release him!” Her father moved closer – too close for Emma’s wolf’s comfort. She bared her teeth at her sire. As an alpha bitch, she cared less about pack policies when it came to her mate. He had no right to interfere.
“Mine!” She snapped at Liam. He froze before a low rumble of his displeasure filled the room.
It’s time to fill up those brand spanking new e-readers, tablets, ipads, phones and computers with all new smut. Never fear, you’ve come to the right place and I’ve got the perfect sale for you.
Ellora’s Cave is having a 50% Rebate sale over at All Romance until Dec 31 and my Brooklyn Sinners series is yours for the taking.
In Brooklyn they go hard…fight hard…love hard
A notorious gang leader and an NYPD cop. An unlikely couple, but is it true what they say? Could Gabe hate the sin but love the sinner?
Detective Gabriel Ashby has never looked twice at another man, yet the criminal across from him, the man he’s interrogating, isn’t like any other. Gabe can’t deal with the sudden, intense need he has for one of NYPD’s Most Wanted. Everyone close to Angelo Pagan ends up dead, with the smug gang leader standing amid the rubble. Gabe would love nothing more than to bust Angelo’s ass and lock him up. So why is he seeing the bastard in his dreams at night?
Angelo Pagan knows attraction to Gabe is suicide. He’s resolute to ignore the chemistry…until a police raid goes wrong. He critically injures Gabe, changing the trajectory of both their lives. Now the two can’t get close enough. They settle into a forbidden affair threatened by lies and betrayal, living on different sides of the law with no way of breaching the gap between them. With the authorities looking to make an example of Angelo, Gabe has to decide if it’s really worth it to hate the sin but love the sinner.
Sinner or Savior? Each man has a choice to make. It should be simple. It never is.
Gun runner Pablo Castillo has cemented his reputation in the gun trade as callous and cold-hearted. Personal feelings no longer matter, not with everyone out to make him a sacrifice on their way to the top. He remains untouchable, until a meeting with a rival gang leader and a new deal brings him face-to-face with temptation.
Dev is the right hand to a sadistic bastard out for blood and glory. He hides his true feelings of distaste for his boss, not the least of his many secrets. He could’ve sworn those secrets were safe, but after meeting Pablo he’s not so sure. The two men come together in a heated affair neither can deny, battling themselves, each other and a deadly enemy bent on spilling blood. Pablo and Dev will have to stick together or walk away from a love neither man expected to find. The choice should be simple. It never is.
Thanks so much to Avril and the other Wickedly Sexy Writers for having me today!
This has been a whirlwind two weeks for me celebrating the release of Bound with Pearls! This time last year I was actually beginning the editing process for that book and doing some substantial expansions to the plot. It’s very cool from the author side of things to see a book come to life, the way it grows and changes into something I didn’t even know it would be when I started with a blank page. Now all I can do is hope people like it!
The writing of Bound with Pearls pushed some of my limits, which I think is a good thing for me as an author, and for my readers. While I was comfortable writing erotic romance, the BDSM elements were something I’d never written about. It was exciting, uncharted territory.
We all have limits of things we’d never do, stuff we could be convinced to do and things no one can hold us back from doing. For example, I’d go shark diving in a second, but youcouldn’t pay me to go cliff jumping. Up until a few weeks ago I though I’d never get a pedicure willingly, but now I think I can be talked into one. The pretty toenails have seduced me into it. So long as they don’t scrub my legs witht hat sea salt stuff our punch my calves. I was not a fan of that.
The point is that there are definitive limits in our lives, for whatever reason, they exist. It’s natural and acceptable to not want to do some things. Like, say, jump off a cliff into a river full of gators. Not a good idea.
But still yet,there are limits that exist to be pushed. It’s part of growing as people. I’m a super picky eater. There are loads of things I just do not want to eat, but I regularly try to eat things out of my comfort zone because I know it’s a good idea and also to prove myself wrong. I used to not eat fish, now, I love a good Tilapa filet, and I’m learning to appreciate other fish.
In BDSM there are generally two kinds, soft limits and hard limits. I say general because there is no hard set rulebook to BDSM, so take what I’m saying with a grain of salt. There’s room for all views under this umbrella.
Soft limits are things that are a, “No,” but for a lot of individuals, with the right person, they could reconsider that. For example, a person can have a soft limit of no gags. Gags prevent a person from speaking and saying a safe word or ending play unless another, non-verbal signal is agreed upon beforehand. This individual could refuse to engage in play that included gags until they reached a certain familiarity with a new partner.
Hard limits, however, are the things that we would never consider doing. Ever. For anyone. No matter how hot they are, how much you love them or if there’s a water ballon about to fall on you when you’re wearing white. I’m sure we can all think of some very extreme things we would never allow another person to do. Some of the most common hard limits are things that do with human excrement, blood, restricting breathing or cutting the skin. However, there can be other, not so “scary” hard limits. I hate, hate, hate being tickled, for example. Someone else might refuse to do anything that involved a whip because of their personal take on that item. There’s no right or wrong answer for why something is a hard limit, it just is.
I knew that I wanted to explore a few limits in this book. The characters have vastly different comfort levels when it comes to some activities, so it was natural for them to challenge each other. I think as human beings we naturally push one another into bettering and furthering outselves, either from encouraging or simple competition.
What’s something you’ve been talked into doing that you thought you would never, ever do? Come on, there has to be at least one story out there!
—
It can never be said that Sidney Bristol has had a ‘normal’ life. She is a recovering roller derby queen, former missionary, and tattoo addict. She grew up in a motor-home on the US highways (with an occasional jaunt into Canada and Mexico), traveling the rodeo circuit with her parents. Sidney has lived abroad in both Russia and Thailand, working with children and teenagers. She now lives in Texas where she splits her time between a job she loves, writing, reading and belly dancing.
The last thing Christine wants to do is another favor for her sister, but Lucy always gets what she wants. This time it’s Chris playing sub to a demanding Dom. Their relationship begins with a power exchange and progresses to time spent between the sheets. Now emotions are getting complicated and the Dom isn’t just a hunky guy in black.
Daniel’s expectations are turned upside down when he meets Chris. She’s more than a well-trained submissive. She’s a woman with a body he wants to memorize. He’s willing to spend as much time as it takes to learn her, because she might be his match and his muse. He’ll make her come so hard he’s imprinted on every inch, and then he’ll offer her the most precious thing he can, himself.
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Excerpt:
Christine’s mouth closed with a snap. Her jaw hurt from clenching. Her hands ached from gripping her wrists. Blinking rapidly, she looked at the Dom’s broad back. He was getting ready to leave.
She’d failed, completely blown it, and he was right. Her attitude sucked. This wasn’t like her. She’d hit a low point and didn’t know how to dig herself out of this one.
Pinpricks of pain stabbing the backs of her eyes heralded tears. Screwing things up seemed to be her specialty today, from the reports at work to forgetting her entry fee for the charity race, and now it was going to cost her. Lucy wouldn’t give her the pearls when she found out the Dom had left, rightfully disgusted with her.
The muscles in her chest constricted until she was panting for breath. Her vision blurred with tears she had to dash away.
“Wait,” she said, her voice sounding strained and too high to her own ears.
The Dom glanced over his shoulder, unmoved. It shouldn’t get her off, but the idea of a man with such control was a turn-on. She’d been ready for someone big and scary or maybe on the scrawny side with a penchant for pain. Finding him a fairly normal guy unsettled her.
Fairly normal was an understatement. Sure, most women might not notice him. He had nondescript brown hair and his features were handsome enough. It was something else about him that drew her.
“Why should I?”
She took a deep breath to calm herself. “You’re right. My attitude sucks.” Another deep breath. She couldn’t think of a good reason to give him, except the truth. Her shoulders slumped. She hated airing the dirty laundry between Lucy and her. Sisters should be close, they should have a bond. All she and Lucy shared was a last name and some DNA.
“I’m not involved with Nate. Lucy’s my sister and she—she’s afraid of you, so she probably whined to Nathan until he suggested trading me for her.” She could feel her cheeks burning. “I wasn’t going to do it. I-I don’t know you, I’m not entirely comfortable with this, and Lucy knew that. When I said no, and I meant it, she—”
Her throat constricted around her words, cutting them off. Squeezing her eyes shut, she balled her hands into fists and let the wave of emotion wash over her. She was angry and upset, hurt that her sister cared so little, but it was no different than any other time Lucy had conned her. The only person she could blame for this situation was herself. She drew in another slow, deep breath. “She told me if I’d come here, she’d give me our mother’s pearls. She’s dead, and they’re one of the only things we have left of hers.”
Her gaze locked on the floor. She knew she should stop talking. This man was as disgusted with her as she was, but her mouth kept working. “I loved them. I wore them to prom and graduation. I’d borrowed them for luck every now and then. Lucy never wanted them. They didn’t sparkle enough, they weren’t flashy. But when I wore them to her funeral, Lucy started yelling and crying about how I got everything. I gave them to her to shut her up and I’ve never seen them since.”
She hiccupped around her words. No doubt her face was red and splotchy. She didn’t cry delicately. No, when Christine cried her nose turned red, her eyes got big and puffy and she turned into a fountain. She hated crying and dumping ugly family business on a stranger. She couldn’t wait for him to leave. She could curl up on the bed, cry herself out and slink home where she could camp out on the couch with a pint of ice cream.
“Shhh.”
Hands gripped her shoulders from behind. Her stomach dropped right before the ground disappeared from under her. The Dom picked her up effortlessly.
“What are you doing?” She gripped his shoulders, expecting to land on her ass any second.
He crossed to the chaise and sat down with her cradled in his lap. She tried to slip onto the bench, but his hand clamped on her thigh. It was natural to obey the unspoken command. This close she could see the deep blue of his eyes, the strength of his jaw and feel the power of him. There was no doubt under the black t-shirt and jeans he was every bit as strong as he looked.
“What are—?”
“I’m the one who gets to ask the questions here.” His voice was stern, but unlike his reprimand from before there was a warm quality.
She relaxed against the curved arm of the chaise, comforted by his commanding nature. Let someone else call the shots for now, she was too tired of it all.
“Here.” He handed her tissues from an unknown source and she snatched them up.
Bowing her head to let her curls fall over her face was as much privacy as she could get to clean herself up. The Dom didn’t touch her except where their bodies nestled together, which was one small relief.
She hated crying, but she was better for getting it out. It felt good to be honest, even if the recipient of her words didn’t care what she said.
Tossing her head back, Christine met his gaze. Her breathing was shaky and her eyes and nose raw.
“Feel better?” His voice was the deep, rumbling kind that spoke directly to her pussy. The whole situation would have been easier to write off as one huge mistake if he hadn’t been attractive. Now it was salt to a wound.
She nodded.
He quirked a brow and her blush became more intense.
“Yes Sir,” she mumbled. How could she already be blushing on command for the man?
“You agreed to take your sister’s place because she has something of sentimental value you want, correct?” He looped his arms around her waist, settling his hands at her hip and thigh.
“Yes Sir.”
“I’m going to be frank with you. Would you prefer I wasn’t?”
“No Sir. I’d prefer the truth.” She braced herself for a pat on the head and a goodbye.
“I don’t care for your sister. She’s spoiled. I was, and still am, a little apprehensive you’re too much like her—”
“I’m nothing like my sister.” Memories of cold Thanksgiving meals and waiting for Lucy to show up at Christmas with their father stabbed her. All the times when Lucy should have been there but never was. Their father made excuse after excuse for her—she was busy, being young and carefree. Christine knew better.
The Dom quirked a brow at her again. Her blush felt as bad as a sunburn, stretching across her cheeks, down her neck and gripping her chest.
“Sorry, Sir.” The urge to lean into him and kiss his jaw in supplication was strong.
“I don’t think you’re sorry about that admission.”
She shook her head. “No Sir, I’m sorry for interrupting you.”
“That, I believe.” The hand at her hip swept down to her knee, treating her to the first sensual skin-to-skin contact.
“Sir?” Christine bit her lip and focused on the collar of his shirt.
“Yes?”
“I don’t know your name. I just—”
He squeezed her thigh and she shut her mouth. Another unspoken command she read perfectly.
“Daniel,” he growled. “Christ, she didn’t even tell you?”
She shook her head, curls sweeping over her shoulders. His anger didn’t scare her, though she would be lying to herself if she said some part of her wasn’t pleased someone recognized her sister for who she truly was.
Daniel. Dom, Master, Sir Daniel. It fit him—understated and powerful.
He swept her hair over her shoulder and pressed a kiss to her neck, not quite in the sweet spot, but close enough to make her shiver.
He wound a stubborn curl around his finger and leaned back against the cushions, pulling her against him. She wasn’t accustomed to being handled, but in comparison to him she was small, which didn’t happen often.
“So how did your sister and you get involved in the scene?” The hand at her knee stroked up her thigh and back down, distracting her from his question.
She had to marvel at how well he managed her. She probably wasn’t what he’d expected, and still he pulled pertinent information from her. Something about him put her at ease, which, considering his size and what she wanted him to do to her, was a questionable assessment.
“Um, I had a boyfriend in college who, who liked to tie me up. It was fun.” She lifted a shoulder. “After we broke up I did some research and decided I would try to meet someone new who could—could teach me.”
“How does your sister fit in?”
She wrinkled her nose, wishing he would drop that particular line of conversation. She looked down at his tanned arm. The muscles and veins she could trace with her fingers made such a stark contrast to her pale skin.
“Lucy has always done what I do. Same schools, degrees, even where I used to work. She has to do what I did and try to do it better. When she found out I was into BDSM, she got into it.”
“Did you mentor her?”
Her gaze leveled with his. “Have you met my sister? She showed up one night in a slutty cocktail dress, whined her way through the orientation meeting and attached herself to my Dom.”
“What did he do?”
“Brandon and I were not in an emotional relationship, so he was free to do whatever he wanted. He tried to help her for about a week before he washed his hands of her.” It had been one small victory following many losses. “Lucy attached herself to someone new, and here she is today.”
Nodding, he continued to stroke her leg, his fingers edging higher, disappearing below the hemline of the romper.
“So what happened to you? I’ve never seen you here before.”
She took a deep breath and fought the urge to open her legs and push his hand against her pussy. Any man could be attractive but it took a special man to dominate a woman with a look.
“I’ve been busy between work and our father, and it hasn’t been worth it to compete with her here. I know how people look at me when they know I’m her sister.”
“Are you seeing someone?” His question was casual but his hold on her knee was not.
“Of course not. I wouldn’t be here if I was.”
His hand continued its lazy caress of her leg. Her stomach fluttered. How could she be embarrassed and turned-on at the same time?
“Relax,” he said, jostling her with his legs.
“I’m heavy—”
“What did you say?”
“Uh, that—that I was—um,” she continued to sputter, her mind going blank.
He sighed, his hand rubbing against her knee in a circle. “I’m going to have to punish you for that. I’ve been generous, but I’m not your therapist. Stand up, take off your—” He pinched the hem of the romper. “Take this off and lie over my lap.”
Heat flooded her body, emanating from her pussy. She loved her figure, but baring all in front of a man she’d met fifteen minutes ago wasn’t normal for her. But he wasn’t sending her away. She’d willingly take whatever punishment he wanted to give her.
She’d spoken the words, clicked off a few pictures and then scampered off toward the rodeo arena leaving him more than a little dizzy with lust. J.D. Stone, owner of the Stone’s Throw ranch is in town for business but the sassy woman has him thinking of planting his boots under her bed. Luckily for him, the pretty Melissa Bell is staying at the same hotel!
At first, J.D. Stone looked like a ghost from her past but those long-ago imagines quickly disappear with the first touch of this sexy cowboy’s hands on her sex-starved body. The epitome of a man of the old-west, hard and strong, J.D. is everything she has ever wanted in a man but will a misunderstanding have him turning tail and running with the dawn? Not if she can help it.
Book Information:
Genre – Erotica
Length – 10k (approximately 25 pages)
Series – 1 Night Stand from Decadent Publishing
Except:
“I’ll make you famous.”
She’d lowered her camera after clicking off a series of shots, tossed a long, honey-blonde braid over her shoulder, and winked. A press pass swung from a lanyard around her neck and though things had happened too fast to catch her name, he knew she was a photographer. Tall, leggy, Miz Sexy-thang gave him one quick up and down look that had things tightening behind the fly of his jeans and before he could ask her name, she took off. Quicker than a jackrabbit, she’d trotted down the stadium steps, jumped onto the metal railing surrounding the arena, and done a mean balancing act as she clicked off shots of a bull rider from Hobbs, New Mexico.
But J.D. wouldn’t let her scamper away this time. Unable to look away, he noted the curve of her lips as she sipped that chocolate stuff from a long-stemmed glass, her eyes closed in obvious pleasure. She wore her hair down and it hung straight and silky to just past her shoulders. Damn, she had a pretty, pretty face. From what he recalled the rest of her was downright mouthwatering too. Lush breasts pressed against a silky black tee and he suddenly had the wild urge to fill his palms with that soft flesh.
Signaling Luke, he ordered up a glass of that chocolate wine, grabbed his beer, and then made a beeline to her. J.D. noted the widening of eyes the color of Texas Bluebonnets as he set the drink on the table and tipped the brim of his black Stetson. “Ma’am. Looked to me like you were enjoying that wine so much, I took the liberty of getting you another.” He smiled at her. Somebody had once told him he was too damn big and intimidating so he made the extra effort to put her at ease. J.D. wanted to get acquainted, not scare her to death.
The way she’d gotten up close and personal with the biggest, most enraged bull on the planet didn’t mark her as a coward, though. He liked and admired her already. There was just something about a fearless woman that heated his blood and had him conjuring visions of hot, sweaty, pulse-pounding sex.
She blinked at the drink then looked up, a slow smile blooming on her face. Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “Oh my. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get on my good side, cowboy.”
“And do you have a bad side?”
The sassy thing took a sip of her fresh drink, hummed a little then grinned. “I’ll never tell. At least not until we get acquainted. . Care to join me?”
If you’ve been keeping an eye on this blog and the various social media networks of the Wickedly Sexy Writers, you’ll know that we’ve collaborated on a group project, and the excitement starts right now! We’ve all taken one of Santa’s reindeer and written an erotic romance tale about them. My reindeer is Cupid, and the book featuring him releases with Secret Cravings Publishing today.
Here’s the blurb:
As a postman by day, and one of Santa’s reindeer on a single very special night, Cassius Cupid eats, sleeps, and breathes deliveries. He doesn’t mind, but sometimes wishes that someone would send him something more exciting than bills and junk mail.
One cold January morning, Cassius gets his wish. A young woman arrives with a parcel. Turns out it’s for his housemate – but Cassius doesn’t care. All he’s interested in is Carina – the beautiful female courier.
Cassius Cupid woke with a start, and then sat bolt upright in his bed. Shit, I’m going to be late! was his first thought.
Milliseconds later his brain switched on, and he remembered. He was on holiday. Flopping back onto the warm mattress and pillows with a contented sigh, he smiled. No work for fourteen whole days—it was going to be utter bliss. He stretched, relishing the feeling it created in his sleep-softened muscles. Ahhh…this is the life.
He knew he wouldn’t go back to sleep—hell, it was eight o’clock, which was practically the middle of the day for someone in his profession—so Cassius fell to thinking about how he was going to spend his day, not to mention the several others in front of him. God knew he deserved to relax and have some fun. He’d just emerged from the busiest part of his year, and he was more than ready to do some chilling out.
He enjoyed his job as a postman—he really did—but the Christmas period was a total killer. He idly wondered how many cards and presents he’d delivered over the past few weeks. It didn’t bear thinking about. Once you factored in the festive period itself, the weird few days between Christmas and New Year, and then the flurry of mail that got sent when everyone went back to work properly at the beginning of January, he’d racked up some serious deliveries. And that was before you even thought about his other job—which was for just one day a year, but was arguably more important than the other 364 put together.
Cassius—or Cupid, as he was known to his boss and colleagues in his second, but most important job—was not only a regular postman for the Royal Mail, but also a reindeer. For a single day of the year, Cassius had the supernatural power to transform into one of Santa’s faithful steeds and help pull that famous magical sleigh, delivering presents to excited children the world over.
Therefore, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that Cassius really did eat, sleep and breathe deliveries, but not for the next fourteen days. All he planned to do was watch some TV, read some books, maybe go out hiking, meet some friends… basically anything that wasn’t delivering something to someone. Hey, he might even receive something through the post himself—preferably not the usual crap; bills and junk mail. He didn’t hold out much hope.
He lounged in bed for another ten minutes before realising he was lying there just for the sake of it. Being on holiday didn’t have to equal staying in bed all day—and certainly not for someone as active as him. He reached over to his bedside table, grabbed his glasses and put them on. Throwing off his thick duvet, he walked to his bedroom window and peeked out through the curtains, immediately glad of the effective central heating he and his housemate had forked out to have installed the previous year.
The outside world was covered in a thick layer of snow, and Cassius was mightily glad that he wasn’t out delivering letters and parcels. The stuff was treacherous enough without having to carry a heavy bag up and down driveways, paths, and pavements — most of which either hadn’t been cleared, or had been cleared badly, leaving incredibly slippery patches of ground for an unsuspecting postie to come across. God knows he’d gone down enough times, but, much to his relief, nobody had ever seen him do it. He’d always been relatively unharmed—excerpt for his pride, of course—and had been able to scramble back to his feet and carry on.
The eerie silence outside was broken by the rumble of an engine, and Cassius turned his head to look up the street—he lived in a cul-de-sac, so he knew that’s where the vehicle would come from—and watched as a delivery van made its way slowly and carefully down the road. He hoped the driver was sensible enough to try and steer over the thickest parts of the snow—the more people went over and over the same patches, packing it down, the more the road surface resembled an ice rink. And since the cul-de-sac was on a slight hill, it was easy enough to get stuck. He’d seen it so many times—even going outside one time last winter to suggest the driver go down to the bottom of the road, turn around and try reversing up the hill—an almost foolproof plan for vans with rear-wheel drive. He’d gotten a big thumbs-up for that suggestion as the driver finally got to the junction where the road became flat, and went on his merry way.
As the van drew closer to his house, he saw that the driver was a woman. That would explain her cautious driving—he’d never admit it to one of his drinking buddies, but women were far superior when it came to driving in adverse weather conditions. He even thought he’d seen some survey containing statistics that proved it.
It’s a pleasure to be guest blogging here again. I love the Wickedly Sexy Writers, and I enjoy chatting with everyone here. Today, I want to talk about talent. We all have a naughty talent or two. Some of these we enjoy sharing, and others we keep secret.
I’ll go public with my secret talent. I can tie a cherry stem into a knot with my tongue. Yes, I know it’s not very exciting or unique, but it always seems to fascinate my hubby. He has a naughty talent, too, but he’d make me quit guest blogging if I shared it with you.
Since I write erotic romance, I like to give each of my characters a wicked little talent of their own. In Cowboy Jackpot Christmas, Boone has a ‘signature move’ that he performs on Gigi. It’s a good one, tried and tested. *blushes*
When I started writing, I kept thinking I’d run out of unique ways for the characters to have fun in bed together. Nope! I’m happy to say, I always find a couple new twists into which I can fit my characters. And I enjoy the learning process so dang much!
In my sexy excerpt today, Gigi has a surprise for Boone. Hope you enjoy it!
Here’s the blurb: A lucky first kiss in front of a Las Vegas slot machine pays off big for bull rider Boone Hancock and New York college student Gigi Colberg-Staub. During the day they spend together as VIP guests of the casino, an intense attraction develops. Throughout the night they share in the big bed of the comped suite, hot, sensual moves ignite wild climaxes.
When Gigi receives a miscommunication, she believes Boone thinks of her as one-night buckle bunny. She confronts him, but Boone convinces himself it’s best for both of them if she goes on believing that, and he lets her walk out of his life. When he realizes his mistake, and then sees the sacrifice Gigi made for him, is it too late to win her back?
Excerpt: Boone walked into the bathroom. “Holy shit, have you seen this bathtub?”
Gigi’s footsteps sounded behind him. Her hands landed on his hips and she kissed his back. “Feel like a bubble bath?”
“Sure do.”
While he cleaned up, she filled the tub and poured in crystals that weren’t too girly smelling. When she bent over and swished her hand through the water, her ass rounded. Too sexy.
He scooped her up into his arms.
She screeched and wrapped her arms around his neck, smiling. “You’re crazy.”
“Crazy is right.” Crazy for her. And damned if that didn’t make a mess of things.
He stepped into the bathtub, careful with his footing. He sat with her on his lap, facing him.
Lacing her hands behind his neck, she sighed. “Oh, Boone. You’re so strong.” Her voice was a breathy tease.
He chuckled. “You feel like a feather in my big, manly arms.”
Running her hands over his shoulders to his biceps, she licked her lips. “You are all man, cowboy. Almost too much for me to handle.”
His gut lurched. “Did I hurt you?” He glanced down to where her sweet pussy lay open to his gaze below the waterline.
“No.” She ran her fingers slowly down his chest, past his abs, and onto his fully hard cock. “You fit just perfectly.”
Relief washed over him. He prided himself on his control, but with Gigi, he seemed to give in to manic desire. “You’re tight and hot, baby.” His cock jumped. “I could take you again right now.”
She held her breath, and her nose crinkled. “You like feet?” A naughty smile curved her lips and sparked in her eyes.
He tipped his head. “Uh huh. Not like a fetish or anything, but I like your little toes and soft skin.”
Gieselle took a breath and slid back. “I have a secret talent.”
He grinned. “Oh yeah?”
She nodded and leaned back in the tub. She lifted one foot out of the water. “Wanna see it?”
*********
Ready to share your hidden talent? What’s the fun thing you do that you’d share only on Wickedly Sexy Writers Blog? I’m giving away an ecopy of one of my backlist books to one lucky commenter.
I’m having a great start to 2013 – two single-author releases out already, and hopefully many more to come! The Military Wife is my latest, and is a collection of three military-themed erotic romance stories.
If you’ve been keeping an eye on this blog and the various social media networks of the Wickedly Sexy Writers, you’ll know that we’ve collaborated on a group project, and the excitement starts right now! We’ve all taken one of Santa’s reindeer and written an erotic romance tale about them. My reindeer is Cupid, and the book featuring him releases with Secret Cravings Publishing today.
