Anybody but Justin

by Shelli Stevens

  “Gabby, about that—”

  “No, it’s my fault for looking.”

  “Let me finish. About five minutes before you showed up at my door, I’d just replied to it. I’d been putting it off.”

  Her hand slid up to cup his face, her fingers moving back and forth over the stubble. Her gentle touch combined with her slight body pressed flush against him sent a ripple of desire through him. His body hardened and he drew in an unsteady breath.

  “It doesn’t matter, Justin,” she said softly.

  Another thought kicked in. “You saw the IM too, huh?”

  “I did, but seriously, I know—”

  “I’m sorry you saw that, Gab. Let me explain.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  “But I do have to explain. To you and to them. To any woman who contacts me.” He drew in a slow breath. “I explained that I’ve fallen in love with somebody else and am giving up the dating scene.”

  “You said that?” Her gaze searched his.

  “I did.” He stepped back from her and took her hand. “Come inside and I’ll let you read the email. The IM—”

  “I don’t need to read them,” she cut him off, her body relaxing in his hold. “I trust you, Justin. If you say they’re nothing, I trust you.” She licked her lips and her expression relaxed into something a bit sultrier. “If I follow you inside, the last place I want to go is to your computer.”

  “Yeah?” He traced a finger down her arm. “Where do you want to go? To your apartment to start moving your things back here?”

  “Maybe later. Right now I think I’d like to, hmm, go to heaven…in your bed.” Her attempt to hold back a giggle failed.

  “That’s a terrible line.” He scowled and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist, nuzzling his neck.

  “It is a terrible line, and you’re so guilty of using it in the past.”

  “Am not,” he lied, grinning as he stepped inside and kicked the door shut behind them.

  “Dude, you told me everything,” she reminded him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “But, Justin?”

  “Yes, honey?”

  “I think for the first time in your life…” she pressed a kiss to his lips and then sighed, “…that line might actually work tonight.”

  “You think so, huh?”

  “I do.” She winked. “But I’m game if you want to prove it.”

  “With pleasure, Gabby.” He tightened his grip on her and headed to the bedroom. “With pleasure.”

  About the Author

  To learn more about Shelli Stevens please visit www.shellistevens.com. Send an email to Shelli at shellistevens@aol.com or sign up for her newsletter at www.shellistevens.com/contact

  Look for these titles by Shelli Stevens

  Now Available:

  Trust and Dare

  Dangerous Grounds

  Tempting Adam

  Theirs to Capture

  Coming Soon:

  Luck Be Delanie

  Protecting Phoebe

  On the road to forever, anything goes…

  Heat of Passion

  © 2009 Elle Kennedy

  An Out of Uniform story.

  Carson Scott is the king of one-night stands, so a naughty encounter with a sexy brunette in a nightclub supply closet is right up his alley. When his mysterious seductress disappears, he’s blindsided by an unfamiliar emotion—disappointment. One thing’s for sure…if he ever encounters his lady of the evening again, he won’t let her slip away so easily.

  Between her catering business, family issues, and her broken heart, Holly Lawson has too much on her plate to think about committing to a serious relationship. Hot, sweaty, anonymous sex with a Navy SEAL…now that sounds like the perfect appetizer to take the edge off. With no plans to ever see him again, she indulges in a fling. Only to come face to face with him weeks later while working a wedding.

  Worse, Carson is hell-bent on the one thing she doesn’t want. The R word. She has no intention of falling for him, but in the face of his seductive, mind-changing methods, her resistance is crumbling…

  Warning: This title contains a ridiculously hot Navy SEAL, a sassy heroine, and sex in a supply closet. Read only if you have time to take a cold shower afterwards. Graphic sex, explicit language.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Heat of Passion:

  Carson swiveled his head in the direction of the voice, just in time to see a petite brunette in a yellow halter-top emerge from the shadows. The second floor of the club had a loft feel to it, a huge open space with a handful of floor-to-ceiling beams, and the brunette must have been leaning against one of those pillars, because Carson hadn’t even seen her approach. Which raised the question, just how long had she been lurking in the darkness, eavesdropping on them?

  The others looked as startled as he felt to see her standing there. “So, which one of you is going to dance with me?” she asked in that husky voice.

  Man, how did a tiny thing like her have such a sexy, fuck-me voice? Carson studied her, waiting for flashes from the strobe to illuminate her face so he could get a better look. Each time a streak of light lit up her face, Carson liked what he saw. She had one of those faces you saw in makeup ads—smooth creamy skin, a small upturned nose, and naturally red lips that were lush and sensual and ridiculously kissable. He lowered his gaze and liked what he saw there too. Perky breasts, small but in proportion to her petite frame. She couldn’t have been taller than five feet, but her sexy little body was a total turn-on.

  The biggest turn-on about her was that he could see her nipples poking against her halter. Yup, she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  He noticed his teammates checking her out as well, saw their appreciation, and an odd pang of possessiveness gripped his insides.

  “Well?” she prompted, her voice barely audible over the music.

  Well, what? Right, the dance. Carson quickly moved his gaze away from those small, tantalizing breasts and took a step forward before any of his friends—mainly Ryan—snatched up this hot little pixie.

  “Sweetheart, I would love to dance with you,” he drawled, shooting her his trademark ladies’ man grin.

  Women always told him that grin of his was hot enough to melt a glacier, and sure enough, he saw the brunette’s cheeks redden a little. It could’ve been the shadows making her look flushed, but he preferred to think the grin had done it.

  A pair of catlike green eyes focused on Carson. Shit, she had nice eyes. They tilted up just slightly at the corners, giving her a very exotic air. “Let’s do it then.”

  Oh, he wanted to do it all right. Although he’d never admit it to Ryan I-Need-To-Get-Laid Evans, it had been way too long since Carson had slept with anyone. Five weeks, to be exact, and he was getting real tired of flying solo. That three-week mission in Colombia played a part in his current celibate status, but after that he had no excuse other than he simply hadn’t encountered a woman who set him on fire. Six months ago, he might’ve settled for the first available warm body, but ever since his best friend had fallen for Shelby, Carson found it was getting harder to justify screwing random chicks. Garrett and Shelby were so disgustingly in love, they made him feel sleazy about his casual lifestyle. Not that he was looking for love or anything, but lately he was pickier about who he fell into bed with.

  He might, however, make an exception for the woman who’d just asked him to dance.

  She walked ahead of him, and Carson took the opportunity to admire the way her short black skirt hugged her firm little bottom. He usually went for curvy and leggy, but something about this woman’s fragile figure made his blood heat up.

  He tore his eyes away from that delectable ass and followed her down the open spiral staircase leading to the main floor. When she reached the bottom step, she cocked her head as if to check if he was still there, and when their gazes connected, he saw a sensual smile tug on her pouty mouth. Damn, those lips belonged in an X-rated video. Preferably one that featured him and the lips
in question wrapped around his dick.

  Amusement danced in her green eyes. “You’re staring at my mouth.”

  “You’ve got a nice mouth,” he answered glibly.

  “So do you.” She studied him. “In fact, you’ve got a nice everything. Are you an actor?”

  “Male model,” he lied, only because he didn’t feel like telling her he was a SEAL. Women had a tendency to go a little nutty when they found out what he did, got all wide-eyed as fantasies of being swept off their feet by a real-life hero filled their pretty heads. And Carson had no desire to sweep anyone off her feet tonight, unless it involved sweeping this appealing brunette to the nearest bed.

  She smiled again, but the look on her face said she didn’t quite believe him. “Interesting. Do you pose in the nude?”

  “All the time.” He curled his fingers over her arm and led her toward the packed dance floor. The music was a lot louder down here, so he dipped his head to her ear and added, “I could give you a private show if you’d like.”

  She laughed, the sound quickly swallowed by the reggae song that pounded out of the speakers. Leaning up on her tiptoes, she brushed her lips over his ear as she said, “First you can dance with me, then I’ll decide if I want to see you naked.”

  Carson grinned and pulled her into the throng of people. She immediately pressed her body to his and started to move. Those curvy breasts teased his chest, sending sparks of heat to his cock every time her small, erect nipples pushed against him. The top of her head barely reached his chin, and her soft wavy hair tickled his neck. She smelled like flowers and honey, the aroma filling his nostrils, subtle and yet far more potent than the scent of sweat, perfume and aftershave mingling in the hot air of the club.

  He rested his hands on her tucked-in waist, slipping them under the hem of her halter-top so he could feel her bare skin. As he moved his body to the rhythm, he slid his fingers over her warm flesh, enjoying the silky feel of it. She sighed, her breath tickling his collarbone and searing right through his black T-shirt.

  “How am I doing so far?” he asked.

  She tilted her head up to look at him, an enticing smile playing on her lips. “So far, so good.” She punctuated the words by rubbing her lower body against his pelvis.

  His cock rose to attention, thickening to a long ridge that strained against the zipper of his jeans. Never missing a beat, he spun her around then pressed his erection against her ass, running his hands up and down her bare arms. He lowered his head to her ear again. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

  A beat of silence. “Jessica.”

  “I’m Carson.” Then, unable to help it, he slid his tongue over the shell of her ear before sucking on the delicate lobe. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jessica.”

  She pushed her butt out and rubbed it over his erection before spinning back around and wrapping her arms around his neck. Their gazes locked, and the hint of sex sizzled in the air between them. Actually, scratch that. He would definitely be having sex with this green-eyed seductress tonight, no hint about it.

  On the night the Cereus blooms, temptation paints a picture impossible to resist.

  Night of the Cereus

  © 2008 Anya Delvay

  Artist’s model Melanie Fletcher likes to keep life simple, and painter Marcus Alejandro practically oozes complications. And sex appeal.

  Posing for him, surrounded by the seductive scent of the night-blooming Cereus, Melanie’s self-imposed rules of a lifetime are slowly being undermined. She begins to wonder—would it really hurt to give in to her lust, just this once?

  Initially drawn to the dichotomy between Melanie’s reserved exterior and hidden passion, Marcus soon discovers the more he gets from her, the more he wants. Her delicious body isn’t enough. He needs to know her intimately, both inside and out, but getting her to trust him is harder than he ever imagined.

  How much can he ask for before she walks away?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Night of the Cereus

  “Stay.”

  Melanie blinked, the reserve in her eyes deepening, hands sliding from his ass to rest lightly on his hips. Whether to hold on or to push him away, he couldn’t tell. It was in her voice too, mingled with surprise as she lied. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

  Instead of challenging her, Marcus slid one hand free from her hair, reaching down to follow the line of her arm, capture her fingers and bring them to his lips. “Good,” he kissed the palm of her hand, “I don’t want you to think this will be a quickie.” Her muscles clenched fractionally and Marcus bent to rest his lips on her throat, just below her ear. A frantic pulse beat there, and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring, “I want to explore you, taste you, learn everything I can about you and your body. If that’s too much for you, now is the time to say so, before this goes any farther.”

  Then he waited, absorbing her little shivers, soaking in the softness of her breasts and belly and thighs, the sweet scent of her. Cradling, and being cradled by her, suddenly afraid. Had he lost his mind? Why the hell had he given her an excuse to leave?

  He wants too much, more than I can give. More than I want to give.

  Yet she couldn’t seem to get her body to move, her feet to take the path back to her car. Instead there was a softening sensation deep in her belly, a heightened awareness of his strength, the solid, muscular form pressing her against the wall. Every breath he took caused his chest to rise and slide over her breasts, further inflaming nipples already sensitive to the point of pain.

  He was wrong. Leaving hadn’t been on her mind…had it?

  “Don’t try to complicate this, Marcus.”

  She kept her voice calm, tried to make it cool, and he huffed, a cross between disbelief and a chuckle. Straightening to trail his hand along her arm, then cupping the side of her neck, he searched her eyes, his face tight and amused. “You prefer simple, Melanie? Or controllable?”

  “Both.”

  Yet even as she said it, she felt the lie. Yes, she usually went for uncomplicated encounters, where she could enjoy the physical and not worry about tomorrow. Chose men willing to take what she was willing to give, who didn’t want or demand more. Already she was past the usual with Marcus. Her control was slipping, questions and desires swirling inside, creating a ferment of feelings she could no longer identify. It was terrifying, enlivening, stimulating beyond any other experience of her life.

  Marcus was still watching her, and it took every ounce of determination not to look away, or to show the truth on her face. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he spoke slowly, letting each word sink in.

  “I think sometimes complicated and uncontrolled are good.” His hand moved suddenly, pulling at the buttons until her blouse sagged open. Running his finger along the edge of her lacy bra, he continued, “Simple would mean giving in to the impulse to lift your skirt and slide into that hot, wet, pussy, right here and now. Simple would mean fucking you against this wall, then walking you back to your car after we’ve come. Somehow, I don’t think simple will work for me tonight.”

  Melanie’s legs trembled as she imagined him lifting her, his hard length sliding in, hands clutching her ass. God, she wanted that so bad. His words, the look in his eyes, heightened the sensation of his body against hers, brought her closer to the edge. The world narrowed, their surroundings disappeared, leaving only the two of them. This was desire, raw and more powerful than she thought possible.

  “Just do it, Marcus.” There was no pretence left in her, only desire. Bringing a leg up behind his, she signalled her need with a tilt of her hips. “Don’t think so much, just do it.”

  “I can’t.” The roughness in his voice startled her, even as the instinctive forward thrust of his hips made her moan. “I want more.”

  “Tell me what you want. Or just take it.”

  The words left her before she could stop them and her heart clenched, fear rushing up cold from her toes to her head then receding under a wave of heat as he
shuddered. Without another word he stepped back and opened the door, waving her inside.

  “If you mean that, come in.”

  Melanie dug her fingers into the wall behind her, trying to steady herself, and find the strength to walk away. It was there, in the way he held himself still, the feral, almost ferocious expression, tightly clenched fists. If she stepped inside, Marcus would attempt to strip her bare, and she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t succeed.

  Let him try. It will only get as complicated as you let it.

  Frightened, exhilarated, aroused, Melanie pushed away from the wall and walked through the door.

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