“Let me hold that.” Rosalyn stepped behind Jake and took his blanket. She flipped it around behind her and pressed her naked body to his back. “There, that ought to get you warm.”
“Oh, honey, I’m getting warm, all right.” His cock jutted straight forward, nudging against KC’s belly.
The decadence of it all made KC’s neck and face burn. She glared at Rosalyn.
With his hands free, Jake could do anything he wanted to her and all she could do was stand there holding the ends of the blanket. Exactly what Rosalyn had planned, no doubt.
And he went right along with her plan.
Handing over the reins is hard. Handing over his heart…damn near impossible.
Gideon
© 2011 Beth Williamson
Devils on Horseback, Book 5
Gideon Blackwood is on the run—from Tanger’s meddling matchmakers. With no intention of following the rest of the Devils down the aisle, he heads for the hills to reassess a life spent leading and caring for others…and runs smack into the business end of a shotgun. At the trigger: a curmudgeonly woman with a broken axle and a load of responsibility.
In Chloe Ruskin’s experience, men take what they want and leave a mess of trouble behind. The safety of two orphans and her granny is at stake, and the last thing she needs is Gideon’s “help”. This time, though, she has no choice but to allow the big cowboy to fix her wagon.
As they work into the night, grudging admiration grows into attraction—and desire. Gideon finds he can’t dig his boot heels in hard enough to avoid falling for the opinionated little female.
When Chloe’s family disappears, her suspicion threatens to destroy any spark of love before it catches fire. Gideon finds himself making promises his pride won’t let him break—even if it costs him the love of the woman who owns the missing half of his soul.
Warning: Beware of a strong hero with a stubborn streak a mile wide and a heroine with enough gumption to fill the entire state of Texas. Discover love, hot sex and an amazing, dangerous adventure.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Gideon:
Gideon was furious. Not only had he allowed the stranger to keep them tied up and captive for a good portion of the day, but Chloe had changed their circumstances instead of him. It was his job to be the one doing the rescuing and planning, not hers. Yet he had hesitated to do what needed to be done because he was afraid she would get hurt.
Now the idea made him nearly snort. She was not only fearless, she was smart and quick as hell. They’d been tied together, yet she’d managed to injure the peddler woman, maintain her balance and give him the opportunity to disarm their enemy. It was damn embarrassing, frustrating and impressive.
After they were far enough away to be safe for now, he climbed up into the wagon and sat beside Chloe. He set the shotgun in front of them on the floor and held out his hands. She just raised one brow.
“What makes you think I’m gonna let you drive?”
Gideon gritted his teeth. “Because I’m the man here.”
“I’d say we’re equal partners, Blackwood. We were a team back there, and you’re gonna have to let me hold the reins now and again.”
It made sense, of course. Logic over emotion and all that, but he didn’t give a shit about logic. He just wanted to feel as if he was in control, even if he wasn’t.
“For right now, just hand it over.”
She must have seen something in his expression, because she sighed dramatically and gave him the reins. Gideon wondered if she were humoring him but didn’t want to take that thought any further. Right now he would focus on the trail ahead of them and getting back to where they had been as soon as possible. Unfortunately, the team was old and plodded along slower than he thought possible. They would need some fresh blood to pull this wagon, or they would never catch the people they chased.
They moved along at a snail’s pace, the sound of the merchandise in the wagon behind them clanking and banging together as the wheels hit dips in the trail. It was a strange kind of music—one he did not want to get used to hearing. He planned on getting rid of the wagon as soon as they found the Ruskins. For now he would endure it and its hideous stench.
“Do you think we can find our way back to the packs we left behind?” Chloe’s voice was surprisingly calm.
“Maybe, but with all the shit in this wagon, we don’t need any supplies.”
She murmured something he didn’t quite catch. Five minutes later, she apparently could not control her tongue any longer. “I want that pack back. It’s likely all we have left of our things, and I don’t want to show up on my aunt’s doorstep with nothing but dirty drawers and bugs in my hair.”
“This is the same trail we followed west. If we keep going, we’ll end up where we were this afternoon.” He could almost feel her grinning at him. “But there’s no guarantee we’ll find the exact spot, and we can’t afford to be poking around in the woods.”
She nodded. “I understand that, and I would probably say the same thing. But in this case, I can find the spot.”
“How is that possible? It was a bunch of trees with no distinguishing landmarks.” Gideon thought maybe she was trying to trick him into searching for the packs. There was no chance she could find a bush in the middle of the thick woods they had left them in.
“Distinguishing landmarks? You sure do talk fancy.” She shook her head. “I cut an X in the tree bark.”
“You did what?”
“You heard me. I marked the tree with my knife when you was getting captured.” Chloe sounded so damn smug, his annoyance notched up further.
He told himself not to react, to let her have her moment of triumph. Overall, Gideon was the better soldier, even if she’d been the one who freed them from their captivity. She was a young woman, cocky and sure of herself. There was no reason for him to get riled up.
But damned if he didn’t.
Before he even realized what he was doing, Gideon dropped the reins and yanked her close to him for a bruising kiss. It was a clashing of lips, teeth and tongue, different from their midnight sex. This was primal, elemental and overwhelming. Perhaps it was because they had faced danger together and escaped. He knew he was lying to himself, but thinking wasn’t an option at the moment.
In fact, he could hardly breathe.
The salty taste of her lips gave way to the sweetness of her mouth. The hot, wet recesses beckoned him until he was so deep he couldn’t distinguish where she ended and he began. His dick hardened in an instant, pressing against his trousers, eager to find release with Chloe. To his shock, her hand started pulling on the buttons to free him. He was about to stop her when she spoke.
“Please, I need. Now.” It was a fractured thought but one he understood.
He yanked at the offending buttons until the evening air hit his overheated skin. Her hand surrounded him, and he groaned into her mouth. Thank God she wore drawers with a slit. The ugly dress bunched around her hips. Chloe straddled him, never breaking the kiss, and soon he was poised at her entrance, which was already wet with arousal.
It was wrong, it was foolhardy, it was loco. He couldn’t stop if someone put a gun to his head.
Gideon had never been as aroused or as hard as he was at that moment. She sank onto his length, inch by inch, her tightness surrounding him, embracing him. He gripped the seat beside him until the wood almost splintered under his fingers. It was only through sheer force of will he did not come in the first five seconds. She was perfectly made for him, as if someone had engineered her tiny body to accept, welcome, enclose his.
“Ohhhhh,” she breathed against his lips. “It’s even better than last night.”
Damn straight it was. Gideon guided her up and down a few times, and then she took control again. Her pace increased quickly until all he could do was hang on to her hips and try not to find his release too soon. Blood raced around inside him until his heartbeat became the only thing he heard.
The sounds of the forest around
them ceased, and the air became still. The world held its breath as Gideon and Chloe moved together as one being in an ancient rhythm, hearts thumping, breath catching. Sliding against one another, their moans echoing softly into the dense forest.
She vows to protect her heart…until love burns away her resistance.
The Courtesan’s Bed
© 2010 Sandrine O’Shea
Régine Laflamme rules as the Queen of Fire, the Paris demimonde’s most notorious and accomplished courtesan. Wealthy men shower her with riches and vie to become her next conquest. Respectable women shun her. Other courtesans envy her.
No one knows she was once an innocent young governess, ruined and turned out by a cruel lord. And now, years later, she spies her seducer’s son—a man who never answered her frantic pleas for help.
Darius, Earl of Clarridge, has never stopped searching for the woman who haunts him. He doesn’t expect her to believe that her letters never reached him. No, he will regain her trust in a way she understands—by promising to give her more pleasure than she’s ever known.
In spite of her misgivings, Régine is intrigued and takes Darius up on his boast. To her surprise, he conquers not only her body, but captures her very heart.
Yet beyond the haven of her boudoir, two men scheme to possess her for their own. When one of them kidnaps and enslaves her, she clings desperately to a new hope—that this time Darius will find her before it’s too late.
Warning: This novel contains scenes of graphic sex, bondage, S/M, anal pleasuring of the hero, and a two-women-one-man threesome in a brothel.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Courtesan’s Bed:
“What would be your terms?”
He threw out a monthly stipend that made her swallow hard, added a generous clothing allowance that surpassed that of a certain profligate duchess of his acquaintance, and assured her he was known to most of the jewelers in London.
She smiled seductively. “And what are your requirements in the boudoir, monsieur?”
He returned her smile. “As often as you like, and I promise you will want me often. But if there are days you wish a respite, that will be fine too.”
A faint flush warmed her cheeks. “You’re very confident.”
“It’s one of my finer attributes.”
She smiled, obviously amused.
“So,” he said, staring deeply into those expressive eyes, “do we have an agreement?”
“There is much to consider.”
He let his gaze rove over her face like a slow, soft caress, settling on her delectable mouth. “Perhaps a kiss would convince you of the seriousness of my intentions.”
She stared boldly at his lips and patted the place next to her on the settee. “By all means, monsieur.”
He sat down, angling his body so he faced her, and draped one arm across the back of the settee just behind her shoulders. She leaned toward him, willingly turning her head. He raised his hand and gently traced the line of her jaw with his fingertips. Her skin was as dewy and silken as a rose petal in the morning. When he reached her chin, he tilted her head and leaned over to reach her voluptuous, inviting mouth with his own.
He kissed her lightly at first, a mere pressing of the lips to both soothe and arouse her.
She responded with a sigh and the parting of her soft, sweet lips for an open-mouthed kiss that tasted faintly of brandy. Then he deepened his kiss, sliding his tongue into her mouth. She moaned softly and stroked his tongue with her own, sending a tremor of desire rocking through his body, straight to his prick.
She raised her hand to his cheek, and he thought he’d melt at her tender touch. He slipped his hand around her waist and drew her even closer, needing to feel her warmth, pleased that he’d caused such a response.
When they parted, breathless and panting, Regina purred, “You kiss very well, Clarridge.”
Then she undid the top three buttons of her gown in blatant invitation.
He stayed her hand. “That’s not necessary.” At least, not yet.
Her expression turned perplexed. “But I thought you wished to please me.”
“I do.”
“Well, it would please me if you’d touch my breasts.”
Ah, so she was testing him to see how far he’d go. He hadn’t expected her to move so fast, or talk so frankly, but she was experienced and accustomed to being intimate with strangers without preamble or coyness.
He grinned. “Touching your beautiful breasts would certainly please me.”
He caressed the long column of her ivory neck, causing her to tremble beneath his fingers. But rather than undoing the rest of the buttons, parting the fine silk fabric and burrowing for the Promised Land of her bare breasts, he practiced the art of gradual arousal, which he knew from long experience that most women appreciated. He placed his hand on her left breast, feeling its soft fullness beneath the layer of cloth.
Regina closed her eyes with a gentle sigh, and her head fell back against his arm.
Darius squeezed gently, and her nipple hardened provocatively. Regina’s lips parted. He teased the rigid nubbin with his thumb, and then moved to the other breast for the same tender ministrations.
“Do you like the way I touch you?” He certainly relished his own reaction to touching her, the warm fullness that swelled his cock and made his heart race with dizzying speed.
She caught her breath and murmured a ragged, “Oh, yes,” when he raked her tender earlobe with his teeth.
He worked her nipple harder with his thumb, and when she made a satisfied whimper at the abrading fabric, he swiftly undid the buttons so he could slip his hand beneath the silk and touch her warm, bare flesh, which overflowed his hand as he cupped it possessively.
Her sharp intake of breath at his intimate touch heightened his own arousal.
She was like absinthe, one color until another ingredient transformed it. And he just wanted to drink and drink and drink until he went mad.
He caught the straining bud between his thumb and forefinger, and squeezed gently. She cried out. He smiled, pleased that he could coax such a reaction out of her.
He increased the intensity of his caresses while trying to maintain his own fragile self-control, moving from one tempting breast to the other. He felt a heady sense of triumph and power when her groans grew louder.
For one second he wondered if her response was genuine or the pretense of a calculating courtesan seeking to give her protector his money’s worth.
Her eyes flew open. They were drowsy with passion and delight that couldn’t be faked. She pouted prettily. “You are cruel to torment me so.”
“How ungentlemanly of me. I shall have to remedy that failure.”
He opened the bodice to bare her breasts. They were perfect, round and heavy, full enough for him to bury his face in their ivory softness and lose himself in their sweet scent. He thought both his cock and his head would explode.
“Your beauty leaves me breathless.” His exhaling breath warmed her large, rosy nipples. He teased them with the tip of his tongue, wetting first one, and then the other. He lifted his gaze to Regina’s face, pleased to see her closed eyes, an expression of transported bliss giving her ivory complexion a luminous glow. He had demolished her reservations and her misgivings with his persistence.
He waited until her breathing grew more uneven and impatient before he grasped the breast to steady it, took the inviting puckered tip into his mouth and sucked, gently at first, then harder, with the eagerness of a starving man too long denied.
Régine’s high-pitched cry filled the drawing room, and she arched her back, offering herself to him in an ageless gesture of female surrender.
She tangled her fingers in his hair and held him in place, demanding his touch.
Now he pleasured her right breast with his eager mouth and the other moist nipple with his fingers, driving her wild with abandon. If she reacted so strongly to just having her breasts caressed, he was willing to bet the earth would shudder
and shake when he brought her to orgasm.
He reluctantly raised his head, gently stroking her to ease the abruptness of his withdrawal.
Regina’s eyes flew open. “Why did you stop?”
He drew the bodice together to cover her. “Because if I keep going, I’ll make love to you right here, right now.”
She looked confused. “But I thought that’s what you wanted.”
“Not for our first time.”
She raised her brows. “You surprise me. You are so different from the other men I’ve known.”
He smiled and drew her hand to his lips, lightly brushing her knuckles. “You’ll find me to be a very surprising fellow.”
She buttoned her bodice with crisp efficiency. “I’m looking forward to discovering all your secrets.”
River Bound
Myla Jackson
What do a madame and a bounty hunter have in common? They want the same man.
Bound and Tied, Book 3
When Rosalyn Smythe, aka Madame Rosie, steps aboard the Marie-Dearie, she hopes it’s the end of a year-long search for her runaway fiancé, Dalton Black. Her cabin holds a surprise: James McKendrick. Notorious bounty hunter, old lover…a man only too happy to help her clear the air—and her heart—of her murdering, thieving bastard fiancé once and for all.
In disguise as a riverboat gambler, Dalton is determined to find who framed him for killing two U.S. Army soldiers and who stole the gold they were carrying. He wants his life back—and his woman, who just happens to be on board and on the arm of his former best friend.
Convincing James he’s innocent is easier than winning back Rosalyn’s heart. Especially since Rosalyn seems to be enjoying their competition for her affections a little too much. There’s only one place to work out his dilemma. In bed.
River Bound: Bound and Tied, Book 3 Page 10