“So the business card is all we have to go on.”
“Yeah,” Brax agreed. “But it’s more than we had yesterday.”
They stood silent, holding each other, for a long time. His hands rubbed soothing circles over her back and it wasn’t long before her mind wandered back to their conversation downstairs. He was aware of the direction of her thoughts; she felt his anticipation rise, knew what he wanted. He wanted her to voice her acceptance of this thing between them. It was a terrifying yet exhilarating step. She couldn’t fight the physical attraction between them, the craving she felt for his possession sexually. It was the pull on her heart that scared her, but despite that fear she knew she couldn’t walk away. She’d never forgive herself for not giving them a chance and suspected she’d never recover from the loss if she forced herself to walk away. That didn’t mean she’d let him take over.
“There are going to be rules,” she said sternly and almost laughed at the confusion that crossed his face. “For me to stay with you.”
“That’s not up for debate, angel.”
She wasn’t quite ready to admit that. “I’ve been alone a long time, Brax. I don’t need a keeper.”
His lips twitched with the beginnings of a smile. Why was that so damned sexy? “What do you need, then?”
She rose for her perch on the sofa and put an extra swing in her hips, just to see the heat rise in his eyes. “A partner. A lover.”
“Oh baby, I got the lovin’ you part down fine. I’m already an expert.”
She shivered. There was no doubting his prowess in bed, but she wanted more. She wanted everything. “I wasn’t talking about sex.”
This time he did smile. “Neither was I, sweetheart.” He gave her a slow, deep kiss that made her toes curl and her stomach knot. “I love you. I plan to spend the rest of my life loving you.” He watched her for several long moments, expectantly. Confidently. “You’re supposed to say it back.”
“It scares me. A little.”
He nodded. “Me too.”
If this big, gruff man could admit that, couldn’t she?
“I love you too, Braxton Lee. Now take me to bed and show me how much.”
He scooped her up in his arms, laughing. “It would be my pleasure.”
About the Author
Loribelle is a former Army MP who traded in her combat boots for motherhood, flip-flops and all the Diet Coke she can drink. (She almost misses the combat boots.) She’s the author of more than twenty books, none of which her children are allowed to read. Ever. Visit her website, www.loribellehunt.com, or www.facebook.com/loribelle.hunt for information on new releases.
Look for these titles by Loribelle Hunt
Now Available:
Fireworks
Forbidden Passions
Passions Recalled
Renegade Passions
Print Anthologies
Forbidden Passions
Coming Soon:
The Elect
Guardian
Warrior
No one can outfly the speed of fate.
Renegade Passions
© 2011 Loribelle Hunt
Forbidden Passions, Book 4
As a member of the elite Messenger Corps, werebird Alexandra “Ajax” Petros is in her element. Under the protection of her people’s steadfast political neutrality, the only thing she can’t outfly are the secrets of her past—and her birthright as destined queen.
Which is exactly what she’s trying to do when she lands, literally, in the arms of a man with claws—and cold, methodical wits—as razor sharp as her own eagle talons.
For Nicodemus Leonidas, information is power. The journey into werebird territory to find out what happened to his father is a calculated risk, but nothing is more dangerous than his and Ajax’s instant, explosive chemistry. In the heat of the moment, he senses the stubbornly independent woman is his mate…and that she’s hiding something.
Evasive maneuvers do Ajax no good. Inexorably, Nico peels away her layers until he holds her very soul in his hands. And when she uncovers a plot to steal her throne, he is the one man with the power to force her to make the one choice she never wanted to face…
Warning: This book contains sex. A lot of it. In a kitchen, up against a wall, bent over a sofa, tied up and not tied up. Also, a family betrayal, a fight to the death, a reluctant queen and a very kinky leopard with control issues.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Renegade Passions:
When the leopard set his hands on her hips, she had to grip the counter for support and bite her lower lip to keep from begging for more. His lips brushed her skin, and her blood rushed. Then his teeth scraped over her pulse. She groaned, and he released her abruptly as if he was burned by the heat rising in her body. She felt the same way.
Slowly, she turned to face him, study him. She’d just arrived home a few hours ago and everywhere she went had been told a leopard was in their mountains asking for her. Nico Leonidas. One of the leopard king’s brothers and the only one she hadn’t met until today. Considering everything that had been going on with the leopards recently, she’d decided it would be better if she found him first.
She’d expected him to seek her out sooner, had been informed by her source inside Refuge Resort that he was investigating the plane accident his father had died in. She had her own suspicions about that crash, suspected one of her own was behind it. She would be forced to move against him soon. The man’s arrogance, his greed threatened the balance of power in the shifter world and the bird’s place in it. She wouldn’t allow that, but she couldn’t strike without some kind of proof. Such rashness would shake the foundations of her clan.
So she’d done the unthinkable, broken the bonds of neutrality by sharing her suspicions with Adrian Leonidas. She couldn’t explain that compulsion to share the information with the leopard family, but it wouldn’t happen again. Her duty was to her people. She’d been waiting for the Leonidas’ arrival, had been sure she could deal with him and send him off quickly.
Now that he was here, she knew that belief for the mistake it was. As the leader of the Messenger Corps, she came into contact with many different werekind species. She’d often dealt with wereleopards. This one’s domestication was a thin veneer. Not a problem in and of itself. She’d known a few predator weres over the years that were barely human. But this one. This one was hers. And not at all happy about it if his expression was anything to judge by. To tell the truth, she wasn’t either, but his rejection still stung.
“Don’t like what you see that much after all, huh? Don’t worry. I don’t either.”
His eyes narrowed to angry slits as she brushed by him. It took every ounce of control she had not to reach up, soothe his brow and apologize for her angry response. She didn’t have time for a mate. If she had any sense at all, she’d shift and get out. Fly far away and wait to return until he’d left. Her body refused her mind’s orders to do so immediately. The sense of self-preservation apparently didn’t trump the lust. She was in real trouble.
She avoided looking at him as she opened the freezer and rummaged around. Her mother usually stocked it with casseroles while she was gone, and she pulled something out that might be lasagna. It was in a glass pan with a foil lid, and she put it in the oven. Turning the knob to three hundred and fifty degrees, she looked over her shoulder.
“Hungry?”
Another mistake. Nostrils flared, he stood very still and stared at her. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. For the first time she wondered if she might be in danger and felt a spike of fear. He reacted like she’d thrown cold water on him, jerking and prowling around the room. He stopped by the doors, didn’t turn around when he spoke.
“There’s no need to fear me. I won’t harm you.”
Was that hurt she heard in his voice? With his back turned she allowed herself the opportunity to really look at him. She could see his reflection in the glass and caught her breath.
He was a magnificen
t specimen of masculinity. Not much taller than average height, maybe a little over six feet tall, with defined muscles she itched to touch. His hair was very short, dark, almost black, as if to match the darkness she sensed in him. But his eyes were bright, grassy green. He met her gaze in the glass and held her snared. She suddenly wished she’d taken time to put more on than just a robe. As if he heard her thoughts, he let his gaze trail over the reflection of her body in the doors.
“I think I preferred you without the robe.”
His voice was low, husky with arousal. She held her breath, wondering if he’d tell her to remove it, wondering if she’d comply. The problem with being raised as the heir to a throne was you never met a man who could really take charge, who you wanted to give over control to. It could only be in bed, but it was a kind of freedom she secretly yearned for. Except his earlier rejection still rankled. It was clear from the bulge in his jeans he wanted her, so what was that about? She didn’t know what to think and fell back on cool disdain.
“I can find some clothes. No point in walking around without them. I try not to fly around inside.”
His smile was slow, a little cruel and all dominant male. “I’d just have to remove them.”
Her heart hammered, and her sex clenched in response. Her mouth was too dry to respond. He approached her, stopped close enough she could feel his chest rise and fall against hers. She stood frozen in place as he lifted his knuckles to stroke her cheek, down her neck and over her collarbone.
“How long before dinner?” he whispered.
“Um.” She gulped. Impossible to think while he stood so near. While he petted her. “An hour maybe.”
“Good.” The heat in his eyes faded a little. “Ground rules. You agree or you don’t agree. If you don’t, nothing happens between us. Understood?”
She nodded, still aroused but bemused by the sudden change in tone and conversation.
“Just two things really,” he said going back to stroking her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access and waited to hear his rules. “One, I’m in charge.”
His lips touched her skin and she gasped as he suckled it. “Whatever I say, whenever I say it.”
She didn’t know if she could go for that, but she was intrigued enough to let him go on. “And two, while I’m here, you’re mine. I don’t share.” The last ended on a growl. That was fine with her. She knew she wasn’t ever going to be able to look at another man. What gave her pause was the implication he’d go on to other women, but she forced the savage jealousy away. She didn’t want a mate after all. She had enough problems.
“Oh…” His teeth nipped at the vein pulsing in her neck. “Okay.”
Kiss your powers goodbye.
Temptress
© 2012 Lola Dodge
Kidnapping a super-powered suspected felon from a Vegas bachelor party is another day at the office for Jenny Ray, alias Temptress. With one kiss, any naughty supe’s powers are hers. Except this time she’s caught by her mark’s boss, who’s no ordinary superhero.
It’s Thinktank, leader of the toughest hero crew around. One destroyed men’s room and near-toilet-drowning later, Jenny’s forced to steal an innocent hero’s powers.
For a super brain, Tank’s feeling pretty idiotic. First, he let Jenny close enough to get to him. Second, he’s helpless against the tide of desire that rises in him every time he kisses her. Which he’s doing a lot, since she’s trying to give him back his power—only it’s not working. As he shadows her on her various freelance casino security jobs, he realizes she’s no she-demon—she’s a time bomb. Her acquired powers are shredding her, body and soul.
As they give in to desire, a shadowy figure from Jenny’s past surfaces with a kidnapping plan of his own. Jenny will do anything—even level Las Vegas—to rescue the man she loves. But there may not be anything left of her when the dust settles.
Warning: Contains high-stakes poker, high-end cocktails, and high-flying over Las Vegas skies. Never drink and fly!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Temptress:
Jenny slumped in my arms. That she’d even been able to stand was a miracle.
No. She was that tough. I tucked her against me, shielding her from the growing crowd. She was also insane.
Steve pushed through with more of the security team. “You’ve got her?”
“I’ll take care of her. Can you deal with that?” I nodded toward the baggage cart.
“We’ll figure it out.” Steve elbowed a path to the curb and waved down a cab. “You two get out of here.”
I ducked inside, careful not to jostle Jenny. She looked half-dead.
“Where to?” The cabbie glanced back, but either didn’t notice anything unusual or didn’t care. It was Vegas.
Part of me wanted to say the closest hospital, but Jenny was right. They wouldn’t be able to help her. “The Palms.”
We pulled out as the first news van pulled in. I ducked my head, which brought me closer to her. She smelled like an unholy combination of sulfur and cherry blossoms. Ragged burns scored her arms and dark circles nested under her eyes.
I moved curls away from her face. So soft and defenseless in sleep, it was hard to imagine the firepower Jenny held. Or that anyone could carry so many abilities.
The last moments of the fight had been a spectacle—the tip of an unimaginable iceberg. She could’ve fried me instead of taking my powers.
I couldn’t understand her, and I doubted mind-reading would crack the girl. She breezed into a four-on-one with no plan, no backup and the swagger of a heavyweight champ. She could afford the attitude with that arsenal, but it was no way to live. How many times had she been sent home to an empty penthouse wounded like this?
She needed handlers, or a support staff. Other heroes.
That was the part that made me want to kick a hole through the bottom of the cab. Jenny didn’t want to be a hero. She could change the world if she wasn’t so stubbornly committed to her life in the shadows. She didn’t have to suffer like this. At the very least, she didn’t have to suffer alone.
We rolled to a stop in front of the Palms, and I tried to reach for my wallet without jostling her.
The curbside door flew open. “Jenny?” Seth stuck his head in. The worry left his face as soon as he turned to me. “Is she okay?”
“I’ve got her.” I slid out of the car. “Can you take care of this? My hands are full.”
The cabbie shouted as I walked away. Seth shot me another glare, but leaned through the window to take care of the fare. He’d follow us like a puppy if I let him.
It was quieter on the casino floor, but not deserted. We might’ve passed for an average guy carrying his drunken girlfriend home, but I was too recognizable and Jenny’s arms looked like raw meat. The people who noticed us glared like I was the bad guy. Wasn’t used to that.
As far as I could tell, we made it to her penthouse without anyone calling the cops. That didn’t mean they wouldn’t, especially if I had to kick down the door. I’d never seen a keycard. Jenny stirred in my arms, her lids opening.
“Your key?”
She groaned, and her arm slipped off her chest. Her fingertip touched the key plate. Click. The green light flashed.
What couldn’t she do?
As I resettled her to grab the door handle, Jenny scrunched her eyes, letting loose a soft sound of pain. It was her first complaint, which was impressive for anyone who looked that ragged.
I eased her onto her bed and wondered if I should change her into more comfortable clothes. No. She’d just get pissed when she came to. First priority was treating her wounds. I moved into the bathroom in search of bandaging.
The cabinet under the sink was an addict’s dream. I wished I had my power to count the bottles, but I almost didn’t want to know. This shit wasn’t aspirin.
Vicodin. Oxycontin. Calcitonin. That one was for amputees.
Only the closest bottles were for pain. The girl had medicated ointments and eye drops, an
tibiotics and cases of needles and syringes. Even suturing thread.
What the hell was she doing to herself?
I grabbed bandages and burn cream. She didn’t stir as I wrapped her arms. She probably needed more treatment—a bruise formed on her chin, and her nose was still swollen from earlier—but mostly she needed rest. As I spread a blanket over her, I looked closer. Despite the dark circles, with those long lashes and cherry lips she couldn’t look anything but beautiful.
I wanted to kiss her.
To get my powers back.
I wanted to kiss her to get my powers back.
At least that was what I should’ve been thinking. I backed away and flicked off the light. If I didn’t keep it together, this girl would own me. She already had my powers. I couldn’t afford to give her more.
Kidnapping and bondage are no way to win a girl. Well, actually…
Gone with the Monster
© 2009 Lila Dubois
Monsters in Hollywood, Book 3
Runako has good reason to distrust humans. His sister’s murder taught him it’s safer to keep his Monster form under wraps. Now comes word that a woman is making a movie that will supposedly “help” his people. He’s not sure about that, but one thing is sure…Margo is too beautiful to be ignored.
Presented with the opportunity to use his people’s Captive Caves—a secluded mountain fortress designed to hold hapless, tasty humans prisoner—Runako knows exactly whom he wants to star in his ultimate fantasy.
Margo knows exactly what she wants and how to get it. At least where her career is concerned. Runako is just the kind of bad boy with whom she’d like to heat up her nights. In a land of skinny blondes, though, a hottie like him would never notice her lush, Latin curves.
No one is more surprised when she finds out his version of “wooing” includes kidnapping. Forced to stand before him in chains, her paper-thin confidence is burning up fast in the heat of his desire. And when it turns out she can identify his sister’s murderers, they both must decide where their loyalties lie…
Warning: This title contains light bondage, spanking, anal play, sex with a Monster and misuse of home décor.
Protector: The Elect, Book 1 Page 10