Hot Ride

by Kelly Jamieson

  “Um…take out the DAs?”

  “No. Not that.” He shook his head. “I have to look after you. It was like a voice telling me I had to look after you.”

  “I don’t need anyone to look after me.”

  The words automatically came out of her mouth. Then she looked at him and saw the corners of his mouth lift. She smiled back at him. “Bullshit. You’re making that up just to annoy me.”

  “It’s true! I swear it!” He held up a hand, mouth still twitching. “That is now my mission in life.”

  She could look after herself. But she so wanted to let go, to share things, to be looked after by someone, someone she loved and trusted to be there for her. Ryan.

  He closed his eyes. “My world is so rocked, in so many ways, by you, Sera.”

  “I know.” She smiled at him, stroked his cheek. “I can’t explain it. I only know it happened. You were the only person who ever believed me.”

  He pressed his lips together, his eyes bright. “I did believe you, Sera.”

  “I’ve never needed anyone else.”

  “I know. I want to be the one.”

  “You are the one.”

  Their gazes met and held for a long, shimmering moment.

  “You do love me,” he said.

  “Why did you go there?” she whispered. “To the warehouse. I couldn’t figure that out. You were supposed to sit and wait with Zocco.”

  “The surveillance team lost you. On the way to the lab.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “I couldn’t sit there and listen to that and not do anything. Zocco knew where the lab was so I made him take me there. Then they found you. We sat in the parking lot, waiting. When you didn’t come out, I was having a heart attack. What happened in there, Sera?” He searched her face.

  “That was Snake. My mother’s boyfriend. The one she got mixed up with after my dad left.”

  “Oh Jesus. Jesus Christ. He recognized you?”

  She nodded. “I didn’t handle it all that well. I denied it, but he and Dominick were both suspicious. I just…didn’t expect him to be there. I wasn’t prepared for that.”

  She sighed and leaned into him. “He killed my father, Ryan.”

  “What!”

  She nodded against his chest. “But he told me something really…great too. He told me that my dad came back for me.” She lifted her face and smiled through her tears. “He got himself cleaned up and sober and he came back to get me. My mom and Jake didn’t want him to take me, though because they…well, you know what they wanted to do. So they killed him.” Her voice caught on her last words. “He came back for me, Ryan.”

  He pressed her face to his chest and they were silent for a long moment. She absorbed the beat of his heart.

  “Thank you,” she whispered. “For coming in when you did.”

  She needed him. Needed him with every cell of her body, every cell of her mind, every fragment of her spirit, with a need that should have scared the crap out of her but didn’t.

  She smiled at him. “I love you,” she said, voice strangled. “I love you so much, Ryan. I thought you’d left me too, even after you promised you wouldn’t. I’ve always been alone. That’s how I wanted it. But when you died, I knew…I didn’t want to be alone anymore.”

  “I know.” He smiled and his eyes were very shiny. Surely to god big, tough federal agent, biker-impersonator Ryan Thomas wasn’t getting all mushy on her?

  He was.

  “I love you too, Sera. God.” He bent his head and his fingers twisted around hers again. “I want you with me. Whatever I’m doing.”

  “I want you with me too. I thought I was okay all on my own. I always have been. I thought I always would be. But since I met you…I don’t want to be alone. Without you.”

  “I’m with you always. Forever. I promise,” he whispered. “You’ll never be alone again.”

  Sera wrapped her arms around him and hung on tight. “Neither will you.”

  About the Author

  Kelly Jamieson lives in Winnipeg, Canada and is the author of over twenty romance novels and novellas. Her writing has been described as “emotionally complex”, “sweet and satisfying” and “blisteringly sexy”. If she can stop herself from reading or writing, she loves to cook. She has shelves of cookbooks that she reads at length. She also enjoys gardening in the summer, and in the winter she likes to read gardening magazines and seed catalogues (there might be a theme here…). She also loves shopping, especially for clothes and shoes. She loves hearing from readers, so please visit her website at www.kellyjamieson.com or contact her at info@kellyjamieson.com.

  Look for these titles by Kelly Jamieson

  Now Available:

  Love Me

  Friends With Benefits

  Love Me More

  2 Hot 2 Handle

  Lost and Found

  Love 2 Love U

  One Wicked Night

  Rule of Three

  Sweet Deal

  The relationship is pretend. The chemistry…isn’t.

  Sweet Deal

  © 2012 Kelly Jamieson

  After her last job ended with a broken heart and a humiliating exit from the company, Shelby Leighton’s project management career is back on track with a new job and a high-profile project. The problem: her new boss is a little too friendly, and the staff is talking. Can you say, “déjà vu?” The solution: casually mention a fictional new boyfriend.

  New problem: she’s expected to bring her new man to the upcoming corporate picnic.

  Jake Magill doesn’t do relationships. It’s casual or nothing, but the hot blonde he’s been eyeing at the coffee shop sure is something. Especially when she confesses her problem, and he finds himself offering to act as her date.

  Sounds simple. Stroll around the party with Shelby’s sexy curves clinging to his arm? He’s all over it. Until he meets her boss—the man who once stole and married the one woman Jake thought he loved.

  Now Jake’s the one with a reason to pretend. If only to save his own pride…and Shelby from the predatory gaze of the man who could ruin her, and any chance of finding out if their fake connection is the real thing.

  Warning: Contains one desperate lady in need, and a pretend boyfriend who shows impressive dedication to nailing all—and then some—elements of his role. Oh my!

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Sweet Deal:

  “You’re just a little thing, aren’t you?” Jake set his hands on her hips as they moved to the music and smiled his sexy smile down at her, his dark eyes heavy-lidded and sensual. They were both putting on a good act, but Shelby knew she was kidding herself. This was no act. She was so attracted to Jake. More than attracted. His charming personality, the easy way he talked to her coworkers, just the way he’d stepped in to help her and how he’d been so convincing in his role as her boyfriend drew her to him.

  She could pretend this was all just an act. Yeah. When the evening ended and they parted, Jake’s favor over and done with, she’d be fine. But right now, pretending was so much fun.

  “I hope Andrew doesn’t give you a hard time at work next week,” Jake murmured, a small crease between his thick, straight eyebrows.

  “I’m hoping he’ll just leave me alone. I mean, I still need to work with him. Well, you know what I mean.”

  “I know what you mean, Shelby Rose.”

  The way he called her that made her go all soft inside. They shared a slow smile, gazes fastened on each other as they danced.

  They drank another beer, chatted a bit more, danced again. As the evening grew cooler, Shelby slipped on a hoodie she’d brought. She almost forgot to be aware of where Andrew was, and whether he was watching them. As the crowd dwindled, she looked at Jake with regret.

  “We could leave now,” she said softly. “I think our mission is accomplished.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” He nodded and set down the cola he’d requested instead of beer last time. “I’ll drive you back to your car.”

  “Oh. Yeah.” She hesit
ated. “You know, that wasn’t very smart of me, but I think I’ve had too much to drink.” She bit her bottom lip as she met his eyes. “I completely forgot I had to drive.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll just drive you home then. Will you be able to get your car tomorrow?”

  Things were pleasantly blurry as they walked hand in hand toward the parking lot. “Yeah, I’ll get it somehow. But thanks for driving me home. Geez, I feel so stupid.”

  “You are far from stupid, Shelby Rose.”

  “I like how you call me that,” she confessed. He opened the passenger door of his Audi SUV, and she paused. “Man, this is a high vehicle.”

  “It is for an elf,” he said. “Here.” He lifted her and sat her on the passenger seat, then closed her door.

  “Hey!” But he was walking around the vehicle to his side. She glared at him when he slid in and he grinned.

  “I’m teasing.” He leaned over and brushed his mouth across hers, sending tingles cascading over her whole body. She blinked at him, then remembered to fasten her seatbelt.

  He parked on the street in front of her apartment building in the quiet residential neighborhood and walked with her to the door. As she paused at the door, the shadows of the tall queen palm shifting moonlight over and around them, he slipped his fingers beneath her chin and lifted her face. She stared back at him, her gaze moving over his dark eyes, crinkled at the corners as he smiled, the cleft in the middle of his chin, the sexy curve of his lower lip. Oh. Her breath whooshed out of her.

  Heat expanded, the air around them feeling like it might ignite, and then they were wrapped in each other’s arms, mouths fused together in a hot, impetuous kiss, bold, frantic and hungry.

  His arms crushed her to him, her purse thunked to the ground and her feet lifted as he hauled her higher and tighter to his body.

  “Jesus,” he muttered against her mouth, before taking it again in another devouring kiss. She kissed him back, mindless, frenzied. The sexual tension that had been smoldering inside her all evening burst into flames. Heat swept over her.

  His tongue dragged over hers, licked her bottom lip, then his mouth sealed over hers again. An intense ache bloomed low in her belly, and she slid her hands into his hair, holding his head, and she kissed him back, a full-mouthed, full-bodied kiss that had more heat exploding between them.

  Eventually, she pulled back, panting, heart hammering, and gasped, “Wait.”

  He made a sound like a groan.

  “We don’t have to do this,” she wheezed. “This was supposed to be an act.”

  He made a derisive noise. “Yeah. It was supposed to be. But don’t tell me you don’t feel it too, Shelby Rose.”

  His hands tightened on her ass, pulling her against him, and she felt his erection against her belly. Holy crap, he was big. She’d made him that hard. And he’d made her so wet her panties were soaked. You couldn’t fake that kind of reaction. She gazed up at him, uncertain of what to do now.

  “Invite me in,” he ordered softly.

  Be careful what you don’t wish for. Fate might snatch it away.

  Hidden Heat

  © 2012 Leah Braemel

  Hauberk Protection, Book 4

  When handling Hauberk’s managers, efficiency is Sandy Hallquist’s watchword. In her personal life? Excitement all the way, baby. That’s why she escaped Minnesota—and her marriage-minded mother—for a job with one of the hottest bodyguard companies on the eastern seaboard. What more could she ask for than to be surrounded by all that alpha-male testosterone?

  Invisibility is Troy’s stock in trade, the only way he can manage Hauberk’s international offices while answering the call of his other career: assassin. Nothing about him is real, not even his name.

  In one moment of weakness, he allowed Sandy a glimpse behind his carefully crafted mask. The more he’s around her, the sharper his yearning for stability. A home. Love. Pity those are the last things she's looking for. And revealing that she’s the one true thing in his life could be the very words that drive her away.

  At the first whisper of the “L” word, Sandy’s first instinct is to hit the brakes. By the time Sandy admits to herself that Troy is more than a passing fancy, though, his next mission could take the decision out of her hands.

  Warning: This book contains sexcapades in secret clubs, voyeurism, a touch of bondage and risqué office shenanigans.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Hidden Heat:

  Troy’s fingers curled tighter around his glass as Sandy tugged her skirt down her thighs, rewarding that wolf in the blue suit with her beautiful innocent smile. “Hey, Scott. Do you know him? The guy staring down Sandy’s cleavage?”

  Scott shifted to get a better view of the couple. “Not by name. He started hanging out here a couple weeks ago. Heard him bragging about working for some financial firm or something. Why?”

  When Sandy placed a hand on the guy’s forearm and accompanied him to a booth at the back, Troy wanted to snarl. “Something about him sets off the alarm bells.”

  “It’s your own fault if she goes home with him, you know,” Scott said quietly. “You could have gone up there and talked to her yourself.”

  Flipping Scott the bird, Troy looked for some sign she was uncomfortable. To his disgust he found none. A half hour passed before Scott finished his drink and excused himself.

  As the night wore on, Troy’s mood darkened. He had no justifiable reason to plow his fist into the overconfident fucker’s nose and wipe his smug smile off his face. It was none of his business the number of times the bastard’s gaze dropped to Sandy’s cleavage. Or how he’d placed a hand on her hip as if staking his claim.

  Hidden in the shadows, he allowed himself to picture Sandy shrugging out of her blouse. He imagined her shimmying out of her skirt, letting the fabric puddle at her feet to stand in front of him wearing only a scanty bra and perhaps, if he were lucky, a lacy thong. First thing he’d do would be to lick the freckles above her breasts and let the spice of her skin excite his taste buds. Then he’d suckle on her plump nipples until they were hard, maybe he’d let her feel his teeth on them. Once she was moaning her pleasure, he’d fill his palms with those full globes of her ass and part her legs, bury his cock deep inside her.

  His breath hissed through his teeth when his fingers brushed the hard-on pressing against his fly in his attempt to create more space in his trousers. Talk about a glutton for punishment, letting himself fantasize about her. Now he was in desperate need of a little hand action to ease the ache in his balls. If he didn’t get himself under control, he’d either spill in his pants or he’d be forced to seek the men’s bathroom and find his relief in a stall.

  The asshole stood. Good. He was leaving.

  Shit. Sandy was standing too. And taking the asshole’s hand. Three steps later Sandy slipped and Troy had seen enough. He slid from the booth, blocking their way before they could pass.

  “I’ll take her home.”

  Sandy huffed. “Troy, please.”

  “You know this jerk, Samantha?” Asshole’s jaw tightened.

  Now wasn’t that interesting? Sandy hadn’t given Asshole her real name. Troy sized him up. Manicured hands, not used to hard labor. The start of a pudge around the midriff. Desk jockey, at least lately. Not that it made him any less dangerous. The guy could be carrying a gun. Or a knife. Hell, he could be a former agent who’d been retired a few months too long but still retained the knowledge of how to incapacitate someone with his bare hands. “Yeah, she knows me. And I don’t know you. So why don’t you take a hike?”

  “I don’t think so.” To his credit, Asshole placed himself between Sandy and Troy and stuck out his hand. “Mitch Young. And you are?”

  Troy dropped his gaze to the outstretched hand and let it hang while he returned to meet Young’s gaze. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t a complete jerk. “McPherson. Troy McPherson.”

  Young’s demeanor completely changed. He held up both hands and side-stepped Sandy. “Sorry, man, I had
no idea she was married. She never said a word.”

  Married? Why the fuck would the asshole think he was Sandy’s husband? Then again, who cared? Troy watched the man scuttle away before turning to Sandy, who glared at him. Rather than give her a chance to get away, he grabbed her wrist and hauled her out of the bar.

  “Troy, stop it. You have no right to act like this.” Despite Sandy’s protests, she didn’t struggle against his hold. “Will you slow down, please? I’m in high heels here.”

  He slowed but didn’t stop until they were beside his SUV in the parking lot. “Damn it, woman, you don’t have the sense of an overbred cocker spaniel, do you know that?” A spaniel with big blue puppy-dog eyes and soft wavy hair, lush curves and plump lips.

  “Are you calling me a dog?” She flattened her hand against his chest and shoved him. At least she tried to shove him but ended up staggering backward herself.

  “No.” He crowded her against his SUV, trying to ignore the way her breasts brushed his shirt, or the way her lipstick glistened in the moonlight. Focus, mate. “Have you ever met this Mitch guy before tonight?”

  “No, but who I decide to have a drink with is none of your business. I’ll date who I want, when I want.”

  “Then you can get together with him another day, but I won’t stand by and let you go off with a guy you don’t know when you’re drunk and not fit to make a decision.”

  “I’m not drunk. I was drinking virgin daiquiris, for Pete’s sake.”

  “Sure as hell looked like it to me from the way you were stumbling your way out of the bar. Shit, did you take your eyes off your drink? Maybe he slipped you a roofie.” He checked her eyes to see if she might be drugged only to have his hand slapped.

  “Oh for heaven’s sake. I’m not drunk and I’m not drugged. Someone must have spilled a drink, my heel slid. That’s all. Besides, have you ever tried walking on four-inch heels? Do you know how hard it is, especially if some asshole is forcing you to keep up while he runs outside?”