by Jodi Redford
Her eyes took on the dreamy quality that always threatened to make him putty at her feet. “I love it when you call me that.”
“Good. Because I’m going to call you it a lot.”
Jana bit her lip. “Does this mean no more running?”
“Yeah. I’m not going anywhere.” He and Nick had agreed to move into Jana’s house, and he intended to keep his promise of making this relationship work.
“Damn, are you saying I bought these restraints for no reason?” Leaning forward, Nick held up the Velcro cuffs attached to the slatted headboard.
Kevin’s cock surged to life. “Well, maybe we could think of another use for those.”
Chuckling, Nick slapped one cuff around Kevin’s wrist and the other he banded to Jana’s. “I heard you two don’t mind sharing.”
“Obnoxious asshole.” Despite Kevin’s grousing, his cock thickened even more as Nick tossed him a condom.
Locking gazes with Jana, Kevin stroked her cheek. He knew she could see right into his soul. It didn’t matter, because he knew what she saw was the same reflection he glimpsed within her. Love.
About the Author
At the ripe age of seven, Jodi Redford penned her first epic, complete with stick-figure illustrations. Sadly, her drawing skills haven’t improved much, but her love of fantasy worlds never went away. These days she writes about fairies, ghosts and other supernatural creatures, only with considerably more heat.
She has won numerous contests, including The Golden Pen and Launching a Star.
When not writing or working the day job, she enjoys gardening and way too many reality-television shows.
Currently residing in Michigan with her husband and overgrown lapdog, she is a member of RWA national and Greater Detroit Romance Writers of America.
She loves to hear from readers. You can email her at [email protected] and visit her online at www.jodiredford.com.
Look for these titles by Jodi Redford
Now Available:
Taking Liberty
Light My Fire
Vanessa Unveiled
The Naughty List
Cat Scratch Fever
Breaking Bad
That Old Black Magic
That Voodoo You Do
The Seven Year Witch
Maximum Witch
Getting Familiar With Your Demon
Thieves of Aurion
Lover Enslaved
No super deed goes unpunished…
Breaking Bad
© 2012 Jodi Redford
A Midnight Justice Story
It’s been twenty-five years since the last Light Guardian was wiped out. Or so it’s believed. Ruby Winston is about to blow the lid off that theory, even though it’ll bring every Shadow Czar minion down on her ass.
She’s always known she was different from the rest of the evil-dictators-in-training Winstons. Uncovering the secret half of her gene pool proves it. Now she’s out to bring down her late father’s mind-control soda empire—and break the Shadow Czars’ hold on Earth.
Problem is, becoming a superhero overnight isn’t as easy as it looks.
Teague Younger has his own secrets to keep: his heritage, and his fierce determination to exact revenge on his friend and mentor’s murderer. So far he’s kept his cover—until he’s forced to use his Light Guardian powers to save Ruby from a sticky situation.
Thrust together and on the run, Teague and Ruby form a wary alliance as they desperately fight their circuit-blowing attraction. With an army of Shadow Queen minions hot on their tails, they might have a hard time surviving the night, much less ignoring their hearts.
Warning: This book contains mind-controlling beverages, evil dictators and minions, excessive use of spandex, and enough electrifying sex to melt an ice train.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Breaking Bad:
Teague stalked toward a cluster of scrub pines in the distance. He halted a good thirty yards back from the trees and waved his arm. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“But…we’re too far away.”
“You might not even get this close to the queen before she fries your ass.”
Her stomach clenched. Determined to prove to them both that she wasn’t entirely inept, Ruby lifted her shaking hands and directed a bolt toward the shrubs. The charge hit at least ten yards short, fizzling ineffectually into the parched dirt.
“Try it again.”
She repeated the maneuver, this time landing the strike even farther from the target. Embarrassment and defeat caved her chest.
“You’re not focusing.”
“I am. I’ve been aiming for that middle tree each try.”
“I’m not talking about outward focus.” He moved behind her. “It’s as much about the mental as physical. To properly handle your energy, you first need to understand it. Connect with it.” His warm, calloused palms glided along her arms, positioning them in a straight horizontal line. “This is the best way to ground yourself. The energy resides as much within your environment as it does inside you.” His fingertips grazed the sensitive undersides of her forearms, causing her to shiver in pleasure. “Do you feel the build-up starting?”
A sharp tingle shuttled through her clitoris. Oh yeah. She was definitely feeling something. Probably not what he’d been referring to though. “I—I’m not sure.”
Teague pressed into her, the firm, muscular planes of his chest and abdomen contouring to her back like the delicious, masculine version of memory foam. “How about now? Feeling anything?”
She gulped, not entirely certain he wasn’t referring to the thick bulge of his erection prodding the base of her spine. “Err…possibly.”
“Good.” His hands coasted along her upper arms and over her shoulders. He continued following the slope of her neck, his fingers a maddening butterfly dance along her overheated skin. She shook as he traced the shell of her ears before combing his fingers through her hair, sifting the strands over her shoulders. His deep inhalation stirred the fine hairs at her temple, and she closed her eyes on a shaky breath.
“Do you feel it, Ruby?” His hands retraced their path, this time moving beneath her arms. “Do you feel our energy weaving?”
Oh my God. She did. Teague’s power was a sensual caress along her synapses. It licked at her own energy, engaging it in an erotic tango that felt…like sex. She bit her lip to stifle a moan. Teague’s bold hands roved inward, and her eyes snapped open as they closed over her breasts. A blast of energy showered from her, acting as a turbo boost to the discharged bolt. It slammed into the center tree across from them, sheering it in half.
Unable to believe her own eyes, she released an excited whoop of joy. It took a moment to realize that Teague was no longer touching her. Disappointment smothered her brief happiness. Pivoting, she met his guarded expression. Painfully aware of the tight ache in her nipples, she hugged her torso. “You stopped.”
“It was the end of our first lesson.”
She frowned. “That was a lesson?”
“Our energy often brings with it a sexual charge for us. Tap into that essence, and it can trigger a power surge similar to a climax.”
Her cheeks heated. “I thought you were touching me because you wanted me.”
A dark intensity entered Teague’s eyes. “I want to fuck you so badly, my balls are blue. But giving in to that urge would be stupid.”
Heaviness sat like an elephant on her chest. “Why?”
“We’re as different as two people can get, Ruby. You want to save the world, and I just want revenge and to save my own ass. You’re better off without me.”
“Don’t I get a say in this decision?”
“No. One of us has to keep some damn sense.” His jaw locked into a rigid line, Teague strode past her and headed to the copse of trees.
She stared at his retreating back, the ache in her heart increasing with each step he took away from her. He should be the last person on Earth capable of tying her emotions into a
Her legs wobbly, she started across the dusty plain, her unwavering sight set on Teague. She reached the ring of trees, and he turned to face her, his mouth a grim line. “Ruby—”
Planting her palms squarely in the center of his broad chest, she shoved him against the trunk of the nearest oak. “You said what you had to say. Now it’s my turn.” Before he could interrupt or argue, she stood on tiptoe and caught his bottom lip between her teeth. A harsh breath rattled from his lungs, and she slid her hand behind his neck. The next second, the lush, wet heat of his tongue thrust inside her mouth as he grasped her ass and hauled her up against him. Locking one leg around his waist, she rubbed against his thickening erection and whimpered.
Re-angling his mouth for a deeper, hungrier kiss, he swung her around until her back was the one pushed against the rough bark of the tree. Gripping her thigh higher, he ground his pelvis into hers. The friction tore a moan from her throat. Scraping his teeth along her jawbone, Teague slid a hot, open-mouthed kiss toward the sensitive crook of her neck.
Her insides melting, she shivered. She wanted nothing more desperately than to feel the thick, hard length of his cock slide deep in her core, filling the emptiness and banishing her ever-present worries for a blissful moment. “Please, make love to me.”
A tremor racked Teague’s body. She sensed the tension in him. The struggle for his control. She gyrated her hips, earning his rasping groan. “Damn it, Ruby. I’m not fucking you against this tree.”
She pulled him in for another devouring kiss and gloried in the lusty moan that rumbled through his chest. His hand slipped between them and fumbled with her zipper. An instant later his palm was cupping her mound and two fingers were buried in her pussy. She gasped at the unexpected stretch. “That isn’t what I want.”
Ignoring her, he pumped his fingers and ghosted his thumb over her clit. She sank her nails into his rock-hard biceps and fought for breath. “N-not this way.”
He increased the pressure on her inner walls, hitting the sweet spot that brought stars dancing in her vision. She bowed her back, trying to stave off the approaching climax. His gaze hot with determination, Teague hooked his fingers, his aim precise and devastating.
Zero to kinky in 3…2…1…
Inside Bet
© 2012 Katie Porter
Vegas Top Guns, Book 2
As junior partner of an accounting firm, Heather Morris is at the top of her game. Her straight-laced colleagues wouldn’t believe the secrets she hides: her wild teenage past, work-of-art tattoo and nipple ring.
Her orderly life veers off course when she’s approached at a wine tasting by an arrogant pretty boy with a dirty mind and a hardcore dangerous profession. She finds herself tempted to step outside her respectable façade for some well-deserved excitement.
Captain Jon “Tin Tin” Carlisle knows women. Loves women. One glimpse of the nipple ring under Heather’s conservative blazer lights up all his instincts. He’s stumbled upon a rare treasure: an exotic beauty with a sexy laugh and a taste for dares.
After a red-hot hour of roulette, their simmering attraction bursts into an exploration of mutual passion that tests even Jon’s erotic limits. Soon he craves something he’s never desired before. More. But for Heather, more means trusting, and trusting leads to trouble.
Now Jon must decide if the best sex of his life is worth chancing his heart on a woman who shields hers so well.
Warning: Contains hot power play featuring a fighter pilot who comes from old money but knows all about bringing the dirty. Also: a nipple ring, sex on the hood of a hella sweet sportscar, and one teensy, tiny, wickedly naughty fluid exchange.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Inside Bet:
“You’re rather self-assured.” Heather faced forward again, but nothing in her posture suggested that he should remove his hand. She dropped the hem over her top so that lace simply draped over his wrist. Brave girl. He rewarded her with a teasing, kneading motion along the dip of her waist.
“Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked against her throat.
“Has anyone ever told you it verges on arrogant?”
“Once or twice. Or more.”
“You don’t care?”
He didn’t really like talking to her without seeing her eyes. Considering her measured, careful voice, she was more difficult to read without precise physical clues.
“Arrogant is what frightened people call bold.” He didn’t need to bend far to speak directly into her ear. In her heels, she was nearly his height. Good thing his ego had never been fragile. Actually, he rather liked the advantages. It made a whole host of sexual positions easier to contemplate. “When am I going to see your panties?”
“Lay another bet, flyboy.”
The croupier had gathered all the chips, paid out the few winners and opened the table for more bets.
“What’s your birthday?”
That earned him a sidelong glance over her shoulder. “The seventh of August.”
“Not long off.”
She laced her fingers over his, across her stomach, with the layer of silk in between. “Plan on buying me a present?”
He leaned their bodies forward to drop another $100 chip on the black square marked seven. Her ass tucked neatly against his cock. Just as he’d thought. They would fit well together.
“What do you want?”
“Everything I’m worth,” she said. “So maybe the sun and the moon?”
“I’ll throw the stars in too.”
“You think you’re pretty slick.” No question there. Just bemused humor. “But I’m still waiting on our side bet.”
“How slick you are. That’s my reward if I win.”
“What?”
A fine trembling had taken over her limbs. He was perversely proud that she didn’t back down, despite obvious jitters.
“If I win with a black seven, I get to find out how wet your panties are.”
“Here?” Her swallow was an audible click. “How?”
He slid his pinkie under the band of her skirt. Not far enough to brush the top hem of her underwear, but enough to make her think of them. “I’ll leave that up to you.”
Suddenly she laughed. The tension drawing her shoulders tight against his chest dissolved. “You know what? Fine. At 37-to-1 odds, the chances I’ll have to pay out are slim.”
He hid a real smile against her nape. So many to tuck away that evening. “But there’s still a chance.”
“You like chances?”
He darted out his tongue and claimed a taste of her skin. Soft peaches and rich cream. “I live for them.”
The uniformed croupier declared the table closed and propelled the roulette wheel with a flick of her wrist. The white ball bounced twice before settling into a smooth counter-roll against the wheel’s movement.
Heather’s breathing went shallow and fast. He spread his hand over her stomach, the better to feel the fast rise and fall of her diaphragm. She’d breathe like that on her way to orgasm.
Enjoying the lustrous feel of her skin against his lips, Jon didn’t lift his face. He didn’t need to. Her lush body’s sudden jolt told him the exact result.
The ball had landed in the number seven pocket.
“Are you going to pay up, Ms. Morris?”
“I’d never welsh on a bet.”
“Like I said, the method is up to you.” He brushed a lock of dark brown hair away from her ear. Although he didn’t want to give her an out, neither did he want to hear the word panda yet. If pushed too far too fast, she would back off entirely. “You can whisper the answer, if you’d rather.”
She turned slowly. The crowds around the table meant they stayed pressed together. No way she could’ve missed the brush of his stiffening prick across her hip. Maybe now she wouldn’t doubt its size.
Pale blue eyes evaluated him, as if he were an impossible equation. Good. He enjoyed being that tough to read.
She patted his shirt along the line of his vest. Lovely hands. Her long fingers were tipped with a fresh French manicure. He imagined how they’d look when clawing linen sheets as he edged her nearer and nearer to coming. How long could he sustain her there without letting her go over?
“Stay right here,” she said, her voice huskier than ever.
“Going somewhere?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to be back?” He didn’t like that question after hearing it said aloud. Too…undisciplined.
“You’ll just have to wait and find out.”
She disappeared into the crowd. Jon watched her as far as he could. She didn’t wiggle as she walked—more like she slinked along. Her hips telegraphed every sensuous intention. Unfortunately, a stream of Japanese tourists following a tour guide’s up-held umbrella closed off his view.
He turned back to the table. While accepting his winnings and handing the croupier a nice tip, he tried to regulate a flush of pure excitement. He had an inkling of what she was up to. If Heather managed, he’d be very proud of her—and more intrigued than ever. She was the kind of woman who tasted risk carefully. The tip of her tongue at first. Not a deep swallow. That made every tiny step all the more valuable.
He gambled too much while she was gone, dropping four hundred dollars on a single spin. Seven again, since it had already brought him such luck. His parents would be appalled if they could see him, so it was a good thing he didn’t answer to them anymore. Grandfather’s trust fund remained excessively handy for pissing them off and for killing time.
When she returned, she slid under his arm as if she weren’t tormenting him with every movement. As if she belonged there. Her fingers ducked into his trouser pocket and out again in a wickedly fast move.
She carefully faced the roulette table as she spoke. “I think you’ll be happy.”
Slipping his hand into his pocket, Jon found lace and silk. If he weren’t careful, he’d come to associate the combo with her. The tiny scrap of panties was unmistakably wet. Not drenched—not yet—but now she was bare under her tailored skirt. Any stray breeze could curl beneath the hem to stroke her skin. He wondered if she waxed or kept a delicate thatch of curls.
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