Stormy Seduction: Pacific Passion, Book 2

by Vivian Arend

  Warning: Contains strong sexual currents and powerful waves of desire that break down inhibitions. Recommended only for those able to navigate through extremely steamy situations, on land and at sea.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Stormchild:

  She jerked herself upright. What the hell was up with her hormones?

  Laurin enjoyed sex. Not in the “need it, gotta have it” daily kinda way like her caffeine or dark chocolate. But ever since she’d laid eyes on Matthew Jentry, she’d been like a homing pigeon trying to come back to roost. She imagined his capable hands on the wheel, guiding them through the dangerous passage. Better yet to imagine his hands on her body, smoothing up her torso to cup her breasts, his dark skin contrasting with her fairness. He’d roll his thumbs over her nipples while supporting the aching globes in his palms.

  Laurin leaned back on the short countertop and closed her eyes. God, she could almost feel it, the tingling sensation from her tight nubs trailing through her body to fire her core. She rubbed her breasts in an attempt to stop the throbbing. The sensation felt so wonderful she trailed a hand down her belly, slipping under the elastic waistband of her shorts to press on her aching clit. Desire wrapped around her like a cloud on the mountaintop and she was powerless to stop it.

  Curses sounded from the deck above her and she startled, suddenly realizing she was fondling herself where Matt could walk in at any time. Heat flushed her face and she hurried to deal with the now-singing kettle. Her heart thumped in her throat and her hands shook as she poured the water into the French press she’d found. Then she leaned her forehead on the cool glass of the small round window in the saloon, trying to calm her soul. By the time the coffee was ready she was back to being agitated instead of direly horny. She stirred an extra spoonful of sugar into her travel mug in the hopes the calories would help her deal with the stress.

  She stared at the second cup in frustration. She didn’t know how he liked his coffee and she was scared to death to go up the four steps to the wheelhouse and ask him. That would require actually looking at his face. Speaking to him.

  Oh hell, she was screwed big-time.

  The engine sound faded and she turned in a panic to face the door, her hands clutching her cup protectively in front of her like a shield. Solid footsteps paced away for a minute, a loud splash sounded, and then the steps returned. The door opened smoothly and his sandaled feet appeared as he took the stairs toward her two at a time. He stopped at the base, his chest heaving. His nostrils flared as he glared at her with his cobalt eyes.

  He slowed his approach. One step. Two. The third put him toe to toe with her and she shrank back against the counter. He loosened her death grip on the cup, reaching past her to place it somewhere behind her. Their torsos touched and scalding heat flashed. Laurin realized she held her breath and she released it slowly, a puff at a time. He shifted and his firm chest brushed her already erect nipples. He caged her, one arm on either side of her body before deliberately pressing his hips into her. Oh hell, his erection felt huge against her belly. Moisture flooded her passage and she whimpered.

  Matt leaned into her harder, every inch of their bodies in contact. He tilted his head and approached her mouth. She was sure he must hear the roaring beat of her heart. He touched their lips together, his eyelashes brushing hers like a butterfly’s kiss and she exhaled with a little moan.

  She was on fire. This wasn’t what she’d expected.

  Matt spoke against her lips, his voice shaking. Every word punctuated with a soft kiss. “You’re…driving…me…insane.”

  Then the storm broke between them and his gentleness vanished. She flung her arms around him and pulled his lips to hers. Lightning flared between their souls, the frenzy of her needs whipping like the whitecaps outside on the ocean. He thrust his tongue into her mouth and she accepted it, sucking it in uneven pulses. Their hips ground together and she wrapped a leg around his hip, opening her body in an attempt to line up her clit with the tempting rock of his erection. He thrust into her, lifting her hips slightly to help and then it was there. Just what she needed—the angle, the pressure. She groaned into his mouth and he swallowed the sound. The air around them heated, rippling with magic as he lifted her to the surface of the counter. Behind her the coffee mug tipped, rolling harmlessly into the sink with a clatter. His hands were busy, unsnapping her shorts, tugging at her T-shirt.

  “I need to touch you. I need to see you.” He growled and stepped back, shaking his head like a wild beast. The lightning came from his eyes and she stared in fascination as he leaned on the wall across from her. They were all of three feet apart and it seemed like a mile. “I don’t understand this. I will stop if you ask me to, but God I hope you feel like I do. I have to have you again.”

  Panic hit. Then delight. Fear followed rapidly by desire. His need poured over her, echoed by her own arousal. Now? Here? “The storm…”

  “The ship is anchored in a bay. We’re as safe as we’re going to get.” His hands clenched into fists, his entire body rigid. A wave of magic floated past her again, overwhelming her senses. She reached deep to try to counter it. It had been so long since she’d used that part of her nature her skin burned. The answering flash of passion that exploded from within was not what she expected. Instead of cooling her ardor for the shaman watching her with lust in his eyes, her fascination grew.

  He was willing to stop? Oh God, if he stopped she would die.

  No strings? Try hopelessly tangled.

  Serengeti Sunrise

  © 2011 Vivi Andrews

  Serengeti Shifters, Book 4

  Zoe King is itching to get out of Three Rocks. Sure, the pride is more progressive with her brother in charge. She’s just got a bad case of wanderlust…and an even worse case of the hots for Tyler Minor.

  The pride’s mechanic sets her senses on fire one second, then shuts down and walks away the next. Before she hits the road for good, this lioness decides it’s time to bring their cat-and-mouse game to a satisfying end.

  Twenty years ago, Tyler’s father walked out and left him with a mountain of responsibility. Now that his younger siblings are settled, the last thing he wants or needs is another obligation. Which is exactly what he’ll get if he screws around with the Alpha’s sister.

  When Zoe offers—more like demands—a no-strings affair, temptation wins and he finds his hands in places they shouldn’t be, and his thoughts straying to words like his. But Zoe’s got her own ideas about possessive, chest-banging males. And they don’t include white picket fences…or letting Tyler keep her out of the danger zone when an outside threat to the pride’s secrecy becomes all too real.

  Warning: This story contains sexual relations, manipulations, ultimatums and two strong-willed shifters determined to be on top.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Serengeti Sunrise:

  Zoe launched herself out of the truck. “Tyler!” His only response was the clang of the heavy metal door to the garage slamming behind him after he ducked inside. “Dammit.” She stalked after him. Cutting through the garage was the fastest way to the main part of the compound, but they weren’t finished here yet and she was going to make sure he knew it.

  She ran to the door, jerked it open and surged through, carried on a tide of indignant frustration.

  “Tyler!” Her shout echoed in the garage bay along with the ringing clang of the heavy door banging shut behind her. “Stop running and face me, you coward!”

  Two yards from the front exit, Tyler’s feet took root on the concrete floor. She could hear a growl rumbling in his chest. His lion must not have liked being called a coward. Well, hers didn’t much like him running away from her.

  Her lioness was ready for this fight, had been itching for it for months.

  He turned to face her, his eyes narrowed and hands loose around his hips like a gunslinger. As they faced one another across the length of the garage, she felt that high-noon feeling herself. Tension snapped in the air, the unavoidable sense th
at something was coming. Something that had been bearing down on them for a while now.

  Love or war. Whichever it was, there wasn’t any middle ground. They’d burned it all away with the friction of the last year.

  “Coward?” he asked, his voice a soft, dark rumble.

  “You have another word you’d prefer?” She strolled across the concrete floor, adding an extra sway to her hips as she came to stand directly in front of him. “Chicken? Pussy, perhaps?”

  “Don’t push me, Zoe.” He rumbled the warning.

  “Or what? You gonna show me who’s boss? Or are you just gonna run away like you always do? Like a coward.”

  His lips pulled back from his teeth in a snarl and he loomed over her. She could practically feel his lion pushing against his skin, burning with the need to prove to her, once and for all, which one of them would end up on top if it ever came down to a battle for dominance. He might play at being civilized, but Tyler wanted to make her submit. She could see it in the luminous feline gold of his eyes.

  “Are you going to kiss me or throttle me?” Zoe tipped her chin back, meeting his eyes with a blatant challenge. “Whichever you’re going to do, do it now. Because I’m sick of waiting for you to make up your mind.”

  “What makes you think I didn’t make up my mind months ago and you just can’t take a hint?”

  “What hint was that? The way you stare at me when you think I’m not looking? How you take the longest possible path between your bungalow and the garage each evening just so you can go past my house? Or maybe the fact that you can’t tell when I’m in heat because you always want me?”

  He turned away, striding toward the door. “That’s quite a healthy ego you have there.”

  “It’s all in my head, is that it?” He put his hand on the door and Zoe felt her composure fracture. “Dammit, Tyler! What the fuck is your deal?” He didn’t turn back to her, but he didn’t open the door either. She shouted at his back. “You want me. I’ve made it embarrassingly obvious I want you too. So what is the big problem?”

  “Your brother…”

  “I’m twenty-seven years old. I don’t have to ask his permission to fuck whoever the hell I want.”

  He turned, leaning his shoulders against the door, one hand still resting on the knob. “He’s the Alpha—”

  “So what? This has nothing to do with him. He doesn’t even have to know.”

  “He’ll know.”

  “Who the fuck cares? Because I’m the Alpha’s sister, I’m not allowed to get any?”

  “I don’t want any more commitments in my life. I’m sick of being responsible for everyone.”

  “Who’s talking about a commitment? I’m talking about sex. Fucking. Screwing. Banging our brains out. No strings attached. I never asked you for a fucking commitment, dumbass.”

  “It’s never going to be no strings. Not with the Alpha’s sister.”

  “God, I am so sick of being the Alpha’s sister. I’m Zoe. Can we just have one conversation that doesn’t include Landon?”

  Tyler thunked his head back against the door. “Look, Zoe, if I wanted to stay here at the pride for the rest of my life and mate with a little lioness who’d give me lots of fat babies, you’d be the first person I’d—”

  She cut him off with a solid punch to his shoulder that made him wince. “You asshole. Would you listen to me for five seconds? I don’t want to marry you. I’m not Mara the fucking baby-making machine. If you tried to give me a picket fence, I would rip up the posts and shove them up your ass. So stop trying to put me in that box.” She slapped her palms flat on his chest, baring her teeth up at him. “I want sex. And I want it from you. So do you want me or not? Because I’m done waiting. We’re deciding this, once and for all. Are you a man or what? Because for someone with the teeth of an alpha lion, you’re awfully fucking scared of me.”

  He grabbed her so fast her back was slamming against the door before she even realized his hands were on her waist. Her hat went flying, landing somewhere on the dirty floor. “Scared, am I?” He gripped her jaw and forced her face up to his. “Does this look like fear to you?”

  His expression was harsh and unforgiving, the animal running close to the surface. There was nothing contained or distant about the heat in his eyes. Who is this man and what has he done with Tyler Minor? Zoe’s breathing quickened.

  His claws flexed against her side. Zoe wet her lips. She’d goaded him to this.

  A little flicker of misgiving flared in her chest.

  “Hasn’t anyone told you not to bait lions?” he growled, palming her nape.

  Zoe’s heart stopped then restarted and accelerated. The nervous sensation got lost in a flood of heat as he took command. Finally. This was it. After a year of foreplay, it was finally happening. Quick, rough, one and done. At last, she’d get over this stupid obsession.

  Tyler Minor had her pinned between hard and harder, leaving no doubt in her mind exactly how much he wanted her. Then he leaned in and sealed his mouth over hers, and Zoe forgot everything but the taste of him. This wasn’t just a quickie to get him out of her system. This was everything.

  Being needed isn't half as desirable as being wanted.

  Undertow

  © 2010 Moira Rogers

  Building Sanctuary, Book 2

  Victor left behind a life of crime to focus on a new vision—helping his alpha build an island sanctuary for werewolves. Harsh experiences prepared him for the hardships involved, except when it comes to dealing with the young female refugees of the brutal Boston pack—especially Simone, who rouses his inner wolf like no other. A woman he must resist, or risk becoming just the latest man to make demands on her.

  Born to wealth and privilege, Simone lost everything when she fell for the seductive whispers of the textile heir who turned her. Once adrift, now she is fired by a new sense of purpose—the chance to broker peace between werewolves and European wizards. Yet even as Europe beckons, her instincts—the same ones that led to trouble before—keep drawing her back to Victor.

  During a sailing trip to the mainland for supplies, Victor finds it impossible to hold himself aloof from the warm, engaging Simone. And when a winter storm traps them together during a full moon, she breaks through his walls so easily and completely, the question is no longer how he’ll stay away, but how he’ll let her go.

  Warning: This novella contains werewolves engaged in such improbable (but legal) activities as lobster fishing and sailing during nor'easters. The breaking and entering and instinct-driven sex on every surface in someone else’s summer cottage is a little more criminal.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Undertow:

  Shifting back to his human form too soon would leave him feral and edgy, but staying a wolf too long would exhaust her. After a few hours, Victor began to herd her back in the direction of the cabin, willing to deal with his own discomfort to spare hers.

  She caught on, but stopped short with a yip, and he had to nudge her on before she moved again. She paused again as soon as they cleared the trees by the cabin, watching him carefully.

  He huffed and nipped at her flank, and she danced away and bounded to the door. He’d propped it open before shifting, so she had only to push it wide and run inside.

  Magic rippled through the air as he ran in, and he found her already kneeling by the banked fire, her pale skin glinting in the dim light. “We’ll have to stir this up.”

  Victor nudged the door shut and let her see to the fire. She had the advantage now. Freed from the call of the moon, she wouldn’t fall victim to it again unless fear or pain brought the wolf to the surface.

  He had a harder battle to fight. The moon hung heavy overhead and dug claws deep into his soul. The wolf struggled, demanding another chance to run and revel, to be free and wild.

  Long minutes passed before he knelt trembling on the floor, sides heaving with rough pants.

  “You didn’t have to come back in,” she murmured. “You could stay out. I’ll be fine
.”

  “So will I.” Eventually. “I wanted to come with you.”

  The flames jumped and crackled as the fresh logs caught, and Simone stood slowly. “Can I help?”

  She was naked. Beautiful. His to take. Even with pain lingering in his body, his cock stiffened. “That depends. Do you still want me?”

  She tilted her head, and a coppery curl fell over her cheek. “I can’t remember a time when I didn’t want you.”

  The answer was everything he needed. He rocked to his feet and crossed the space between them, stopping a foot away to admire the wicked curves of her body. Full breasts, flared hips, soft, pale skin… “You’re so beautiful.”

  She closed some of the distance, her fingertips skimming his arms as her gaze drifted down his body. “So are you.”

  He had to make it worth the wait. He had to make up for every moment of pain he’d caused her, erase it all and leave pleasure in its place. The bed was close enough to the fire to benefit from its warmth, so he swept her up into his arms and carried her to the rumpled blankets.

  When he laid her on the bed, Simone bit her lip and held out her arms. “Seems silly to be nervous, but I am.”

  Victor had no idea if Simone had taken a lover after Edwin, and had no intention of bringing the bastard up now. Instead he slid onto the bed, into her arms, and kissed her softly. “Nothing to be nervous about, darling.”

  “It’s easy for you.” She wrapped her hands around him and pulled him closer. “Every time you kiss me, I turn to mush.”

  “Just because I’m getting harder instead of softer doesn’t mean you’re not turning me to mush.”

  Some of the nervousness faded from her smile, and she teased one hand down his side. “An interesting point. One I’ll have to bear in mind.”

  He would kiss her first, he decided. Kiss her until she’d forgotten what nerves were, then trace every inch of her with his tongue. She deserved a slow seduction. Worship. He’d claim her by pleasing her.