And despite the peculiarity of this dark room, there’s one thing I can’t deny about our time here together—that it was incredible.
“Do you want to see me again?” Liam says, his voice cutting through my thoughts.
I look back at him. I know exactly what to say.
“I can’t think of anything I want more.”
He grins and pulls me back in for another kiss. As his tongue slips against mine, my eyes swivel behind me, returning to the wooden X against the wall.
With a little thrill, I can’t help but wonder for the second time—what the hell am I getting myself into?
Stay tuned for the next title in the Hush Hush series:
Hush Hush #2
Coming April 2, 2015 - Pre-Order Now
The teasing tongues of his leather whip. The black lace blindfold. And that mysterious, provocative little wooden table. These all mean just one thing for April.
The game is on.
Liam is opening a whole new world of thrills for April. It’s only a matter of time before she’s close enough to seize her revenge. But when she catches a glimpse of the “real” Liam, her resolve falters. Despite his dark past, the more she learns about him, the more he begins to consume her thoughts.
And when a familiar face unexpectedly comes to town, the whole house of cards threatens to topple over.
Pre-order it now at http://amzn.to/1zbAuGY.
Excerpt from Hush Hush #2
“It would be fine if you’ve changed your mind about this,” he says. “I wouldn’t be angry with you.”
Liam’s eyes are piercing as he stares into mine. I can feel the tension radiating off him in waves. The air between us becomes hot, charged with anticipation.
“I haven’t,” I say, my voice barely a whisper.
His hands clench. The muscles in his neck seem to clench, preparing—
But then his shoulders drop. “You might not look at me the same way again. You might not like it.”
My heart leaps.
And that’s exactly the point, I think excitedly to myself. The past few weeks have been knee-buckling—and I have to admit, totally exhilarating—but he hasn’t giving me anything I can use yet.
Until now.
I brush a soothing hand over his. His fingers are still wrapped around the steering wheel.
It dawns on me that he’s starting to get cold feet. This is all at once astonishing and thrilling: can it be—the unflappable Liam Hawthorne is getting cold feet?
This truly must be major. I can only imagine what it could be, what dark secret he’s about to reveal to me.
“You told me once, before you took me to your room for the first time, that you’ve done terrible things,” I remind him gently. “And I didn’t care even then. I still undressed myself for you. Still drove myself crazy over you.”
He’s staring out the window, his jaw locked in a grimace. But there’s a twitch at his lips that tells me he’s hearing what I’m saying.
I go on, “When you told me last night that there was more to your story, do you think that I didn’t have some small idea what you were talking about? Nothing you can show me will surprise me. And nothing can turn me away from you. That’s just how much you mean to me, Liam.”
His expression starts to soften. His eyes swing back to me, a hint of conciliation in those light blues. And then I deliver the final blow—
“But you have to show me. You’re asking me to trust you, and I don’t know how I can possibly do that if I don’t know who you are, inside and out.”
That does it.
Sighing, he turns the ignition and the motor comes to life. We pull forward with an alarming speed up the ramp and onto the highway, weaving between the cars, going faster and faster until the world is a streaked blur.
“Do you do that on purpose?” he says out of the blue.
I turn to him. “What’s that?”
“I think you do,” he decides. “Don’t think I have’t noticed it. When you want something from me, you tend to bite your lip and give that little sexy half-smile. And then when you get that look in those big brown eyes, I’m done for. You could ask me for the moon and I’d give it to you.”
Without even thinking, I smile sheepishly and bite down on my lip.
His eyes flick over. “Yes, I think you definitely know what that does to me.”
The tension in the cabin of the car, so thick and electric only a few minutes ago, has nearly disappeared. Now, Liam speaks with a kind of playfulness. He grins at me as he glances over.
Even still, I can see the storm that continues to rage his eyes.
We pull off the highway and down a wide, industrial boulevard lined with gas stations and auto repair shops. Wide swaths of concrete surround us—many of the lots are vacant and abandoned, littered with crinkled bags and shards of shattered beer bottles. Stalks of spindly grass have burst through the concrete on some of these lots, splashes of green on a vast, gray canvas.
Liam turns left and we find ourselves suddenly in a hidden subdivision. There’s an entire neighborhood here, I realize, tucked away behind the boulevard. You’d never know it from the road.
At first, I hardly give the neighborhood a second glance—but then Liam’s car starts to slow. Curious, I crane my head out the window for a better look.
Some of the houses here are more dilapidated than others. They’re one-story structures—more like cabins than the houses I was used to seeing in Lakeview—with slanted roofs and dingy vinyl siding. They stand a mere arm’s length apart from each other, looking almost like they’re huddled together along the road.
But for all the despair of the architecture, the neighborhood itself is full of activity. Men and women sit on plastic fold-out chairs on their front lawn, sipping beer and reading the newspaper. A woman in a New Orleans Saints hat kneels over her small garden, shoving a trowel into the dirt.
As we continue rolling down the street, heads turn toward Liam’s flashy, expensive car. We stand out like sore thumbs here.
I turn back to him, confused.
This is our destination?
He pulls the car to the side of the road, in front of a quiet gray house whose front screen door has nearly fallen off its hinges. He nods, gesturing to a spot somewhere ahead of us.
“There it is.”
There what is? I search the street, but I only see more houses. Is there one in particular I’m supposed to be looking at?
“Which one?” I ask nervously.
He points at a blue house in the distance. This one seems to be neater than its neighbors: trimmed, green grass, fresh coat of paint, even a wreath on the front door. But there’s something foreboding about it. The curtains are drawn, and even from here, I can feel the despair.
Liam unfastens his seatbelt, and I do the same. My fingers tremble against the buckle. What is he about to show me? I reach for the door—
“Wait.” Liam reaches over and takes my hand. His skin is hot to the touch. “Not yet.”
I don’t know how much more of this I can stand—this delaying and hesitating—but nevertheless I slump back in my seat obediently. We watch as four teenage boys cross the street in front of us. One of them carries a soft, red ball tucked beneath his arm, like the kind Riley and I once used for kickball when we were kids.
What are we waiting for? I think desperately. I turn to Liam, my breath shallow with expectation.
He senses my gaze. His eyes shift over.
“Patience, Sophia,” he chastises me. The playfulness has vanished from his tone. His voice, hard and brittle, begins to quaver.
Could this be right? Liam—nervous?
I’m seized by an impulse to heal the pain on his face. My hands seem to be moving on their own accord when they find this cheek. He leans into my comforting touch, then turns and kisses the palm of my hand. His kisses trail upward, up to my wrist and then the length of my arm.
Liam’s hand takes my elbow and pulls me forward, until my lips meet his. Hi
s tongue is insistent, needy. My scalp prickles with pleasure as his fingers curl into my hair.
When we finally break apart, there’s a burning look on his face. Even in the bright daylight, his blue eyes seem to flare. The despair of this place—and of the apprehension of showing me his dark secret—has turned him hot and feral.
He leans forward and slips a hand in between my thighs. The fabric of my dress bunches in his fingers, sliding upward, inch by inch. A shudder rolls through me as his hands find my clit.
Liam flicks his fingers hard across my sex, smirking at the hazy pleasure that drifts across my face. He leans forward and increases the pressure, moving with a desperation that I’ve never seen in him before. He’s pure passion.
A moan escapes my lips as a cloud of bliss settles around me. The muscles in my lower belly clench and unclench, and clench and unclench again, in an erotic rhythm that brings me closer and closer to ecstasy.
But then, suddenly, his hands pull away. The skin between my legs twitches, desperate for his touch. I need him.
“Touch me, Sophia,” he commands. His fingers find my hand, wrapping around them tightly. He places them on his crotch. I can feel the hard, rising bulge beneath his jeans—his arousal from watching my pleasure.
I run my hand up and down his shaft, pressing down through the denim, admiring the way it seems to throb beneath my touch. My fingers move to his zipper.
His hand slaps suddenly against mine.
“You need to ask permission.”
I look up at him, my breath ragged. Instantly, it all makes sense. This is the one place in the world that puts him off-guard. This is the one place where he’s not in control. There’s a mysterious power to this neighborhood. It’s evident in Liam’s twitching skin, in the roar in his eyes.
So let me give him what he needs, I decide.
I lean forward pleadingly, ever the obedient slave.
“May I…?”
His shoulders seem to relax a little. He nods.
The zipper pulls down easily with a soft tug. I slip my hand inside and find his erection waiting for me, swelling inside his pants, eager to be rid of the fabric that restrains his passion.
I trail my fingers teasingly along his hot skin. I wrap my hand around his shaft and move up and down, my movements quick, eager to please. When I give him a squeeze, he groans with pleasure.
“Lean forward. I want to feel your lips on my cock.”
I freeze.
“Out here?” I say tentatively. We’re parked on the side of the street, right beside the sidewalk. Anyone could see us.
His eyes flash at me. “You heard what I said.”
Turned on by his bossiness and the sharpness in his voice, I take one last look around before I lean forward. At least we seem to be in the quiet part of the street; all of the activity is either up ahead, or behind us. No one’s close enough to the car to see what we’re doing—I think.
His cock is hot and ready for me when I press my lips against it. I open my mouth and trail my tongue across his salty skin, tasting him, devouring him. Liam shifts in his seat, tilting his body towards me. The tip of his cock enters my mouth.
“Close your eyes,” he commands.
I obey. The world turns dark as I shut them tight. Using my tongue, I explore every ridge and curve of the head of his cock. My hands continue to run up and down his shaft, moving in tandem with the rhythm of my head. His hips begin to move along with me, his cock moving deeper and deeper into my mouth. It slips across my tongue. A groan slips from my throat, making my lips hum against his shaft.
“Pull up your dress. Let me see how wet you are,” he instructs.
My heart beating faster by the second, I do as he says. My dress is now bunched up around my hips, my naked pelvis fully exposed as I sit in the passenger’s seat of his car.
“Now play with yourself for me.”
I can feel something deep inside me stir with excitement.
My hand just begins to slide toward my clit when a car passes us with a loud whine, blaring its horn. I jolt upwards. Our heads snap toward the source.
“Get outta our neighborhood!” someone jeers, the sound of the voice trailing away with the car. We watch the car, a chipped gray car with a gnarled bumper, retreat down the street.
“Do you think they saw us?” I ask Liam, gathering the fabric of my dress and smoothing it back down over my legs. My voice trembles.
Liam shakes his head. “I don’t think they noticed what we were doing. I think they were just looking at the car. I suppose it makes sense that we’d attract attention—we don’t exactly blend in, do we?”
“No, I guess not.”
We sit in the car for a few moments in silence. The mood is ruined. Liam groans and zips up his pants. I smooth out my dress again nervously, then fix my wild hair. My heart is still pounding like a jackhammer in my chest.
Liam reaches for the door. He turns to me.
“Are you ready?”
I nod.
“Fine. Let’s get this over with,” he says, sighing. And we get out of the car, off to that blue house down the block, to the one thing in the world that Liam’s afraid of.
Hush Hush #2 comes out April 2, 2015. Pre-order it now at http://amzn.to/1zbAuGY.
About the Author
Anneliese Vandell isn’t the kind of woman you want to bring home to your mother. She specializes in writing steamy erotic romance with a twist of suspense, starring alpha males who are handsome, commanding, and fiercely protective of the women they love. When she is not writing, she can most likely be found searching for the perfect New York bagel.
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Acknowledgments
I wish I could personally thank every single person who inspired me to start this incredible (and sultry) journal, but for the sake of keeping this book short, I've pared down the list to a select number of very important people without whom this adventure truly would not have been possible.
First and foremost, Jared. The light of my life, my best friend, my lover, my seductive co-explorer, and the inspiration for some of the naughtier bits of this novel. You’ve always encouraged this dream of mine since day one, and without you, I wouldn’t have had the courage to start. Keep smiling that smile of yours, baby. I hope I give you plenty of reasons to smile a thousand times over.
A heartfelt thanks to Candace, who listened to me ramble about Liam and April’s entangled exploits during many late-night wine bar dates. Thank you for asking all the right questions to help tease out what are now my favorite parts of the story.
To Rue, for introducing me to fine television shows like Bridezillas, Pretty Little Liars, Devious Maids, and of course, Revenge. Who knew that our Friday night wine-and-television tests would end up being so productive?
To Marnie for proofreading this novel, and for preventing some embarrassing (albeit hilarious) typos from spoiling the moment. I’ve never been so grateful for “Track Changes.”
To Faiza, for the crash course in the legal system.
To Jessie, Gloria, Amanda, Sam, and Danica. Thanks for always saying just the right thing at just the right moment, and for being t
he best gal pals anyone could ever ask for.
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