She tried to turn her head aside, desperate to think, desperate to find steady ground just so she could settle herself. “Caleb, damn it, wait…”
“Why?” Undeterred, he shifted his attention to her neck and she groaned as his teeth scraped across sensitive flesh.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she thought of the first thing that came to mind. “Morning breath. I should brush my teeth.”
He laughed against her ear. “Destin…if you want me to stop, just say stop. If not…quit making excuses.”
Turning her head, she stared up at him. Five years ago, the golden brown of his hair would have fallen into his eyes. Now, nothing was there to soften the impact of that dark, liquid gaze and she felt it clear down to her soul. “If I want you to stop, you’ll stop,” she whispered, bracing her hands on his shoulders.
She could feel the power of solid, sturdy muscle under her hands and her body cried out for him. She’d missed him. A few times, she’d tried to find somebody to fill the void he’d left but it had never worked. Three lovers. One of them had been good too. The others…they’d left her cold.
And come morning, she’d been cold any way.
If you want me to stop…
Watching the carved lines of his face, that familiar face, she smoothed her hands along his shoulders, feeling the cotton of his shirt under her palms. A muscle jerked in his jaw. “Destin…”
“Don’t stop.” She curled her arms around his neck and tugged him down to her. She’d regret this later. When she had time to think, she knew she’d regret this. But just then, if she pushed him away, the only thing she’d regret was not reaching for this moment.
Just like she had to live with the regret of not reaching for him as he walked away from her five years ago.
She’d rather live with the pain of heartbreak than the bitterness of regret.
He curved his hand along the back of her head, his thumb stroking the sensitive spot just behind her ear. “Be sure, Destin…are you very sure?”
“Yes. You’ll just have to deal with the morning breath.”
He laughed as he lowered his head and pressed his lips to hers. “I’m willing to risk it if you are.”
Heat blistered through her as he slid his other hand under her shirt, stroking higher and higher, dragging the material with him as he sought her skin out. “Too many clothes.”
“Yeah.” He pushed up onto his knees, straddling her hips as he caught her shirt and stripped it away. Her bra followed. “Naked, Destin. Need you naked.”
She reached for him, wanting the very same thing, but he evaded her hands as he reached for the buckle of her belt and freed it. In seconds, he had her naked while he still wore everything. It was something Destin really needed to do something about except when she went to sit up and do just that, he shifted down and settled between her thighs.
As he caught her hips in his big hands, Destin thought she heard little mini-explosions firing off in her brain. Then he dipped his head and pressed a hot, searing kiss against her.
“Oh, hell.” Melting back against the mattress, she fisted her hands in the sheets.
Caleb’s mouth opened and she shuddered as he flicked his tongue against her. It was like he’d stroked her with a controlled burst of lightning. It hurtled through her and the strangled, choked gasp hitched in her throat. Each rasping touch pushed her higher, higher…
Sensations slammed into her. The feel of his hands on her hips. The rhythm of his mouth.
And more…the feel of him. The warmth of his presence, mantling all around her. It was more intimate than just sex. It was…everything. As he worked her closer and closer to climax, time and trouble and nightmares fell away until it was just them.
His fingers brushed against her inner thigh and she trembled, her eyes flying open.
“Shhh… I’ve missed this,” he muttered against her.
She groaned as she felt him teasing her entrance, the blunt tip of one finger circling around and around. Bringing one knee up, she arched closer.
But he continued on his slow, teasing little play. His mouth teased and tormented, like he was learning her all over again. And his hand…damn those talented fingers, he kept his touch light, just this side of tentative although there was nothing tentative about him.
The contrast was enough to drive her insane and as he worked her to that edge once more, only to back off, Destin reached down and fisted her hands in his hair. The strands were short, almost too short, but she tugged and lifted until his dark eyes met hers. “If you don’t quit teasing me, I’m going to hurt you,” she warned him, her breath coming in harsh, heavy pants.
He smiled and lowered his mouth back to her sex, caught her clit between his teeth and tugged. “Am I teasing, sugar?” He shifted around and used his thumbs to spread her open. “So wet…so ready. Are you ready for me, Destin?”
He’s everything she craves. She’s everything he dreads.
A Killing Touch
© 2013 Nikki Duncan
Sensory Ops, Book 4
Journalist Lana Quinn has a way with hard-hitting news. The story she’s uncovered has potential, but she needs the help of her best friend’s FBI team. She’s been rescued by them, worked with them, and partied with them, but convincing the second in command to believe her theory—that a killer’s touch sets off a lethal allergic reaction—is a frustrating challenge.
Especially since he excites her, body and mind. He’s a danger she shouldn’t indulge.
Aidan Burgess is resistant to helping Lana, but not for the reason she thinks. She has a knack for landing herself in trouble, which means she needs protection. Protecting her means staying near her, a journalist, who like all journalists uses whatever—and whomever—it takes to get her story. It’s a case he wants to refuse.
Especially since she lights a fire in his blood. She’s a danger he can’t afford.
As Lana follows up on lead after deadly lead, learning to trust and rely on each other becomes their only lifesaving hope. If their pride doesn’t become their final pitfall.
Warning: This title contains a grudge-holding hero who gives “kiss my ass” new meaning, a heroine out to prove herself, and a danger that dares them to trust.
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Killing Touch:
“If you want my secrets, Aidan, you have only to ask.”
His temple’s pulse beat so hard his right eye throbbed. “You wouldn’t hold anything back?”
“You’ll have to decide.” The proposition in her tone had nothing to do with the case as she nodded toward the parking garage. “After dinner.”
He took her by the elbow, more for a bid at control than for anything sexual, but he felt the sexual flavor of the touch. “Where do you want to eat?”
“I could go for some seafood.”
“Fine.”
“Oysters sound good. Oysters and white wine.”
He narrowed his left eye and looked down at her. “What are you scheming at?”
“I don’t scheme.”
“And Ian’s not blind.”
“Really? I didn’t think they could correct his vision.”
“Lana.” Kieralyn’s fiancé had lost his sight as a kid. The accident had been awful, but Ian had used it to grow stronger. His dad had made sure of it.
“Not that he seems to mind being blind.”
“Lana.” A warning crept into Aidan’s voice.
“It certainly doesn’t seem to slow him down any.”
“Lana.” His warning hardened.
“And Kieralyn never complains.” She ignored him and seemed to be enjoying her little game.
He enjoyed her game too. And her sass. How much so was a prime reason he’d avoided her for the last several months. Her playful passion pushed him too close to the edge. When he crossed his patience threshold things got…hot.
He hadn’t had hot in too long.
He led her down a slight incline in the garage, where his car was halfway down the mostly empty spac
e, backed in for a quick departure.
“Kieralyn told me about their first night together. Hers and Ian’s.”
“Stop it.” His warning vibrated his throat. He did not want to hear about Kieralyn’s sex life when his own was sadly deficient.
“Have you heard what happened when they went back to his place?” She blew a soft whistle and ran her free hand over the seam of her blouse. The muscles in the arm he held flexed. “For a blind man, he sure seems to know his way around a woman’s body.”
Aidan gritted his teeth. His dick argued his protests. “Stop now.”
“Maybe he could teach classes,” she pondered.
“A real man doesn’t need classes.”
“Eh. Everyone could use some refreshers. Especially when it’s been a few months.”
A rumble rose from Aidan’s chest. She was talking about sex like it was the most natural thing in the world. There was nothing natural about the way she got to him.
He grabbed her, fused his mouth to hers and backed her to the concrete wall in the shadow of a support column. Parting her lips with his tongue, he dove into her mouth. It was a thorough exploration that whisked him back to Valentine’s night.
His neck tingled. His dick hardened.
She arched into him, pressing tight against him even as he scraped his hands up her legs, grabbing the hem of her skirt. Eager for more, Aidan sighed as she buried her hands in his hair and deepened the kiss.
The subtle taste of chocolate lingered on her tongue. She’d indulged in her favorite sweet since lunch. The flavor aroused his taste buds. Her touch aroused his body.
“Aidan.”
“Shut the hell up.” He took her mouth again and rubbed his body against hers, lowering himself a little. He reached beneath her skirt, grabbed her ass and pulled her off her feet.
Following his lead, she lifted her legs and wrapped them around his waist. Fishing in his jacket pockets, she pulled out his keys and disarmed the car alarm. He grunted and carried her to the car. Rather than open the back door, he sat her on the trunk.
With his hands free from holding her, he cupped her breasts and trailed a flaming path of kisses over her jaw, down her neck, to the open V of her blouse.
She gasped and tugged his earlobe between her teeth. With a sigh, she sucked on the sensitive spot she knew would weaken him. Her hands returned to his hair and fisted. The slight pain of her tug awakened him more as she brought his nerve endings roaring to life.
Commanding his body as effortlessly as she always did, Lana swiped her tongue along the corded veins in his neck. When she hit the collar of his jacket, she shoved it away. She didn’t uncover much more skin, but every inch was sinful seduction.
Aidan rolled his hips, grinding his erection against her wet panties. She thrust forward, begging with her body.
A door slammed, a car alarm beeped and high heels clacked against concrete somewhere above them.
Lana’s breasts hardened beneath his hands. The change was slight, but the extra firmness proved her arousal reached deeper than her nipples. It had been the same way the other times he’d touched her.
He moaned, unable to care about the danger of exposure. Any one of the people leaving work for the day could come out and see them at any moment, but he wasn’t sure he cared. He had Lana beneath his hands and nothing was going to break the moment.
He’d never thought himself an exhibitionist, but the prospect of being caught thrilled him.
She lay back on the trunk, pulling him with her. He slid his hands down her body, his fingers tense with desire and restraint. Shifting positions, he blazed kisses up her thigh, beginning at her knee. His fingers shoved her skirt up to her waist and flipped her thong to the side.
His head buzzed.
When his mouth reached her sex, he licked away some of her wetness.
His vision blurred.
He flicked her clit with his thumb and sucked, pulling her into his mouth with a gentle scrape of teeth.
Her legs shook beneath his hands. Her body heated beneath his touch. Ecstasy shot through him, molten in his veins, with her orgasm.
She reached for his belt buckle, but he stepped back and righted her clothes. Damn their differences. He wanted Lana and was tired of denying himself. He was going to take more time with her. “We’re going to my place. It’s closer.”
She nodded once, hopped off the trunk and moved toward the passenger seat.
Her knees buckled. She grabbed the car. Aidan laughed as he grabbed her waist and kept her from falling to the ground.
“I’m fine,” she slurred. “Legs are just a little weak.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
Aidan considered using his siren to get through rush hour traffic faster. The taste of Lana on his tongue, the slide of her skin beneath him, the contrast of her red lace thong against her ivory smooth skin, the lust lurking in her green eyes, the musky scent of her arousal floating from the seat beside him snapped at his tethered control.
Hoping restraint on the drive would focus him, he resisted the siren. He instead sought every shortcut he knew. The ten-minute drive was still too long.
They didn’t speak as they walked up the winding path and through the iron gate. They didn’t speak as he unlocked his front door and pushed it open for her to precede him. They didn’t speak after he closed and relocked his door.
Lana dropped her purse and turned. Three steps were all she needed to close the distance between them. She shoved his leather jacket off his shoulders. His dick jerked. Aidan backed her toward his bedroom. They undressed each other along the way, leaving a trail of discarded barriers.
When they reached his room, the only thing Lana still wore were her red heels with the delicate straps twisted around her ankles. She started to remove them. He shook his head. “Leave ’em.”
“Okay.”
“Lie down.” He jerked his head toward the king-sized bed he never bothered to make. For once the sheets would have a fun reason to be tangled. “On your stomach.”
She arched a perfectly shaped brow and pursed her plump lips. “You’re very demanding.”
“Damn straight.”
Talking with the Dead
Shiloh Walker
Surrounded by death, a man with a terrible gift reaches for life.
A horrific tragedy blasted open a door in young Michael O’Rourke’s mind—cursing him with the ability to talk with the Dead. Nearly two decades later, Michael has moved from victim to survivor, using his abilities to seek out those who would go unjudged.
With his gift, he talks to those who’ve died violently and seeks out their killers. Only once he’s found the murderer, can the victims be at rest. After his last case, the only thing he wants is peace and he hopes to find it in the small town of Mitchell, Indiana.
But something is horribly wrong—the dead are waiting for him there, as well.
Small town sheriff Daisy Crandall is frustrated. The murder investigation she’s leading is going nowhere, the few leads she’s had haven’t panned out. She needs a break—this case is personal and when a stranger arrives, turning up where he shouldn’t be, she’s suspicious. Finding out that he is more than what he appears to be should shock her but doesn’t. The fact she’s highly attracted to him at the worst possible time is a hindrance.
Unfortunately, teaming up with Michael is the only way.
Now it’s a race against time before the killer destroys the life of his next victim…
This book has been previously published, but has been expanded and revised.
Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, violence
eBooks are not transferable.
They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any
resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
Talking with the Dead
Copyright © 2006 by Shiloh Walker
ISBN: 978-1-59998-384-4
Edited by Jessica Bimberg
Cover by Angela Waters
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2006
www.samhainpublishing.com
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