It's in His Kiss Contemporary Romance Box Set

by Rosalind James

  ______________________

  I’m done with women. They’re all cheating liars. They all want you to let your guard down so they can walk all over you and act like it’s nothing. You open the doors, you pay the tab, you walk on the outside of the sidewalk so they’re protected. You send them flowers. You compliment them. You do anything to hear them laugh. You melt under their smiles. You bend to their tears because your manhood demands it.

  You fall for their games.

  And they give you nothing back.

  Nothing.

  Which means only one thing to me. You have to take it. I don’t mean you have to take it like a man. You have to take it. Take everything you can, because no one is going to give it to you, and your happiness is the only thing that’s important. I will never let a woman get under my skin again.

  A small tap comes from my front door. It’s her. I know it’s her. Here to apologize and talk. Fuck that.

  A door has never been opened this fast. I look to see if she’s alone, reach out and scoop her into my arms, slamming the door closed and pushing her up on it. My mouth mashes into hers searching to see if she kissed him. I taste only her so at least she came to my door unsullied. I feel wetness on my cheeks and know that she is crying. I don’t care. No talking. No sorry. Just skin against skin - everything else forgotten. I let go of her kisses long enough to pull the interfering cotton dress over her head and throw it away. She moans against my lips as she pulls off my shirt, touching my chest like a blind woman reading a book. Her leg locks around my hips and I grind against her, making a mess of her flimsy cream-colored panties. I growl as her nails dig into my back like sexy, sharp needles igniting a new addiction. “I can’t…” she moans.

  “But you will anyway,” I say, watching her pull impatiently at my zipper.

  “Yes. I will.” She pushes hard and slams me against the wall next to us, taking control. I didn’t see this coming. Tugging my jeans down, she kneels and touches me as I lean my head back and close my eyes. A deep guttural moan from me excites her as she wraps her lips around the tip of me, licking and making me cry out as she takes me all in. Sara didn’t know how to touch me like this. Rebecca – wild cat unleashed – wraps her fingers around the base, her mouth envelops me to tease and suck.

  I am her mouth’s slave. All of my choices are stripped away. There is only this. Only this. I have never felt this kind of experienced skill. As I crumble into a ball of grunts and thank you’s under her teasing tongue – the truth that I’ve never been with a woman before now is as obvious to me as if Einstein himself walked up and said, “By the way, you’ve never had your cock sucked right, until today.” Thanks Einy. I’m not an idiot. I know that now.

  I can’t stop her. Looking down, the pressure builds to making me near unconscious as I lock eyes with her. She’s looking up at me. Her eyes are like a beautiful animal’s, drinking in what they see like they haven’t had water in years. Oh God. The vibrations that shake my body are unreal. I touch her head, my legs bending at the knees. Rocking into her mouth – I’m too excited. I’m too gone. I let it all go. I yell out again and again as she moans, taking all of my juices into her mouth. I’ve never heard myself whimper – but I’m whimpering now. Down to the ground I go the moment her lips release me. We’re both panting.

  I see only stars behind closed, grateful eyelids.

  16

  Rebecca

  I’m a new me and It’s a whole new world.

  ______________________

  He’s naked and glistening all over, eyes closed, kissable mouth open, gasping for breath. I have done this to him. I have devoured him and showed him what an older woman knows how to do. Bring it on, college co-eds – I’ve got you all beat.

  I was always good at feeling what a man’s ride feels like, which means I can control and guide it. My soon-to-be-ex-husband always said that if I could go down on Congress, there would be no more animosity between parties. Everyone would happily agree to everything I wanted; the world would be a better place. It always made me laugh, but secretly, I loved hearing it.

  I so often think I have no power in my life. And not that blowing a guy is the only place I have it – that’s a ridiculous notion – but it’s that it makes me feel like I’m the one with the steering wheel in a very tangible way. Come along for my ride. I don’t know how some women don’t like it. I fucking love it.

  Blue flashes of light glance to me… the beast is awake.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Hey,” he smiles, shaking his head. “What the fuck was that?”

  I grin and squeeze my shoulders up, giving them again to gravity. I’m about to say something, but he lunges for me and pins me to the floor. I gasp at his formidable stare. These eyes of his! A man looks at me from within them, and I forget that he’s barely out of college as my breath catches and holds in my chest. I’m waiting for what he’s going to do. Holding me down, he lowers himself to kiss me slowly and oh-so-sensually. His chest mashes my breasts and his presses on mine. I feel him hardening once more, this time against my inner thigh as my legs go up to encircle him. His tongues tastes so good. And his smell intoxicates me. His body – every inch of it is utterly kissable. I vow to kiss all of him the moment I have the chance. Now is not that time. It’s his time to do what he wants to do to me. I want him to own my body. To make it his own.

  I watch him as he nibbles his way to my breasts, strong hands wrapped underneath my back so that he can lift me to his opened, waiting lips. Lightly brushing them against my nipples, he kisses me and whips his tongue against the tender dark-pink tip until I want to cry under the gorgeousness of this feeling. Nobody’s taken this much time with them. Ever. My neglected breasts have been merely a gateway to better things and have felt the hurt of that, though I was unaware of it until now. They’d become dead inside and Brendan is waking them up, spending so long on just my left breast, tasting and kissing my nipple there, that I relax into the feeling and experience waves of arousal rush over me. For the first time I understand what the fuss is all about. The delirium I feel down below is building with every kiss. He moves to my right breast and takes the same sweet time. I arch my back up and hungrily beg for more. He kisses and coaxes with warm, wet kisses that make me ache. I moan, “Oh Brendan. That feels amazing. Please don’t stop.”

  I don’t expect it nor see it coming when he enters me. Surprised by the penetrating touch against my soft folds, I open my eyes and look at him still kissing my nipple with his broad chest bent and his perfect stomach arched so that his hips can reach up. My head falls back and I open to him crying out as he slowly grinds into me one inch at a time. I am in heaven as he reaches deeply inside me and stops to stay there a moment, moaning against my chest. Rising, he takes charge of my mouth, kissing me hungrily as his speed accelerates. It begins to go too fast as is too often the eager mistake with young men. I remember it from my college days. “Slower…” I whisper. “Slower. Yes. Just like that.” He slows down and moans as the feelings wash over him, the very feelings he was swept up by, take hold now that he takes his time.

  He looks at me and there’s shock behind his need. “Yes. It feels so good. I know.” He says nothing in return and buries his face in my neck making noises that turn my mind to mush. Hardening inside me, I know we’re both going to burst together. As we rock and grip each other, we both yell out at the same time, our heads thrown back. He grimaces in disbelief as my orgasm pulls his mercilessly to depths he’s never experienced. I cry out into his mouth as he kisses me and pounds a few extra times to drag it beyond anything.

  We’re both gasping for air, and I know that now something has changed in me, too. Never again will I settle for a man who doesn’t move me like this. Never again will I marry for just stability. I’ll make myself stable – and then make love to Brendan until the moon falls from the sky. Thank you for helping me remember my body can still feel.

  “You want to sleep here tonight?” he mumbles into my hair.

&nb
sp; I slide my fingers through his hair and kiss the top of his head. “I’d like that.”

  When we get up, he covers me with a blanket, gives me a beer and finishes two, while we talk awhile in the bedroom. At one point I hear something, peek out the window, surprised when I see Jack knocking on the door to my cottage. I close the curtains before he sees me peering at him from next door. Brendan stares at me, his expression indecipherable.

  “He’s back,” I whisper, lost for what to do.

  “Are you going to go talk to him?” Brendan asks, frowning.

  With two directions pulling at me, I stare at the young face of the man I just made love to. I can’t leave him here while I go talk to my soon-to-be ex. How rude would that be? I won’t do that. Jack and I can talk later. Jack’s just reaching. He doesn’t really want me. He wants what most people want – for everything to stay the same.

  “No. I don’t want to leave.” I sink back onto the bed. “Tell me more about yourself, Brendan. Help me take my mind off of… everything that’s ending.”

  He considers me for awhile, silently. Then he stands and walks to the doorframe where he leans on it. He begins to speak about where he’s come from and where he’s going. I learn that he started college late, wasn’t sure he wanted to go, and then decided a degree in marketing could serve him anywhere. He doesn’t enjoy it, but he hasn’t found his passion so for now, it’ll bring in the necessary paycheck. Several times he stops talking and stares at me, eyes narrowing in concentration. Like he wants to say something. Each time, I ask him, “What?”

  Each time he says, “Nothing.” But the last time, he adds, “It’s just… you’re really beautiful.” I blush deep, dark pink, which makes his blue eyes dance over a wicked smile. I’m surprised he doesn’t ask me about Jack, but I don’t bring it up. I’m just overjoyed to be here, feeling that my life might be worth living after all, like I’m a bird whose cage has disappeared.

  I fall asleep in his arms. He goes into the dream place before me and I listen to his breathing until I’m taken away, too.

  When the sunlight wakes me a bit after dawn, I stretch to snuggle with him, but find only cold sheets beside me, and a flattened pillow. I sit up, confused and look around me. The suitcase that was lying to the left of the bed is gone. The jacket over the chair, also absent. “Brendan?” I call and feel a deep foreboding snake into my heart. “Brendan?” Throwing the covers off, I touch my feet to the cool wood floor, and wince. Naked, I step out into the living room and see no signs. The bathroom door is wide open, bragging of vanished toiletries –toothbrush, razor – all gone. My stomach twists hard as it dawns on me that I’ve been abandoned. I run to peek through a slice between curtains. I don’t even know what he was driving.

  For an hour I wait, hoping he’s just gone into town to get coffee. But I know the truth. I just don’t want to accept it.

  He’s gone.

  I have no idea what his last name is. I have no idea how to get ahold of him. I don’t know where he’s from.

  He’s gone.

  And I will never see him again.

  17

  Brendan

  Driving my Mustang back down the PCH. Heart: closed. Mind: locked. Life: changed forever.

  ______________________

  The waves to my right crash, turning everything inside out… only this time it signifies the changing tides of life - not the lashing pain of uncertainty and powerlessness I felt when I’d arrived. The charm of Mendocino calmed my mind. The Good Witch who checked me into the place and gave me the key to freedom, was right – it’s a magical place.

  Meeting Rebecca pretty much soothed Sara right out of me. And then seeing Rebecca for what she was – a married woman who flirted and toyed with me like my feelings didn’t matter – woke me right out of victimhood.

  When her husband came back and she didn’t leave to talk to him – I lost respect for her. I wanted to say, “Didn’t you guys give each other vows? Can’t you at least go talk to him?” and almost did tell her, a few times. But each time she asked me what I was thinking, I stopped myself. If she doesn’t know, I’m not going to tell her. I get to watch and learn who she is, without trying to teach her who she should be, which is the kind of woman who helps her husband through a hard time. It was easier to tell her she was beautiful and watch her get happy… and drop it.

  It’s all in the past now. I took what I wanted. She got what she wanted. Win/win.

  When I get back, I’m going to call up my buddy Mark and we are going to hit the town. Watch out San Francisco. Oh man. I can’t wait.

  I came up here wanting rest and I got it. I got the peace of mind to tell me what the rest of my life will be like. It will be mine.

  I will take what I want and do who I like. And that will be everybody.

  Women have twisted my heart for the last time.

  Never again.

  The End

  Brendan’s sizzle continues in the Throbbing Hearts series

  For other titles by Sabrina Lacey

  Curing Charlotte

  ~The Surrendering Charlotte Chronicles~

  By Kimball Lee

  A secluded island, a hot billionaire, and true love . . . sounds like heaven. Except that bright, beautiful attorney Charlotte Christiansen doesn’t remember that she’s in love with gorgeous publishing magnate Alexander Bly. In her mind, he’s still the deadly handsome, cold-as-ice billionaire she first knew, with the world and too many willing women at his feet. Bly has fallen hard for Charlotte, and he’ll give anything to help her remember the bliss of their love, starting with an exotic vacation. But the real cure may be in his kiss . . .

  Copyright 2014 Kimball Lee

  Curing Charlotte

  “A brief vacation will be good for her,” the doctor said, as the Bly International jet circled over Bali. “Let her take control, Mr. Bly, follow her lead. She’ll let you know how much togetherness she requires, and don’t be offended if she wants time alone to process all that’s happened to her.”

  Bly sat back in the wide seat and watched Charlotte sleeping on the leather sofa across the aisle. He had buckled her in as best he could while she slept, then covered her with a cashmere throw. She was sedated, since her tears had refused to stop when they left Hong Kong and the aftermath of her abduction. He felt like he could use a sedative, but he settled for a straight vodka instead. Ah, Charlotte. He prayed to God that she wouldn’t be lost to him now. Her love was the only thing that truly mattered to him, and for six years it had been beyond his powerful grasp.

  Alexander Bly was power. Bly International was by far the largest publisher of newspapers and magazines around the globe. He had inherited his fortune, but he had also expanded it. He was a billionaire many, many times over, and the world was his foot-rest. Women wanted him, men wanted to be him, and Charlotte…. well, Charlotte couldn’t be bought. In fact she was, in more ways than one, priceless. She had finally admitted it, said that she loved him, the night before Jamey Huang had taken her. Now he had no idea if she would remember having said those words, or recall the wild, explosive love they felt for one another. In the days that she’d been missing, her abductors had kept her drugged and docile. Now Bly was afraid the doctor he’d brought along might possibly have overmedicated her. Just before she closed her beautiful sapphire-blue eyes and curled onto the sofa to sleep, she’d pushed Bly away and mumbled that she wanted to go home to Mississippi. The truth was she hadn’t lived outside of California in years, and she’d always sworn there wasn’t enough money in the world to lure her back to the rural South.

  “The resort has a car waiting on the tarmac. I’ll carry her,” West, Bly’s hulking bodyguard, said. “No need to wake her.”

  “I’ve got her,” Bly said, picking her up easily, reluctant to have any man ever touch his Charlotte again.

  Charlotte’s eyelids flickered open, and her gaze was glassy and far away. Still, she wrapped her arms around Bly’s neck and rested her head against his broad chest. And Bly f
elt that while he held her, all was right with the world.

  *

  “Alexander Bly,” Charlotte whispered when he sat her on the edge of a canopy bed draped in white muslin netting. It was an uncertain statement, rather than a question, and the unfamiliarity in her voice caused his heart to seize with fear. “Sorry,” she said, seeing the look of dread on his handsome face. “I know we’re… we’ve been… dating? But, no, that can’t be right, I’m your attorney. I was defending your company against Huang Worldwide, and because of that I was… taken.”

  “No, Charlotte, that’s not it at all. Look, you need to eat something and drink plenty of fluids, wash the drugs out of your system. Your memory will come back, and until it does, I’ll explain it all to you, if you like. Why don’t you relax in a nice hot bath? I’ve called a maid to help, and the resort concierge has filled the bedroom closet with clothes.”

  “Where are we?” she asked, walking to the edge of the room where tall, louvered shutters were thrown open to the dark ocean just beyond. The night sky was nearly starless, but she could hear waves caressing a shoreline nearby.

  “Bali,” he said, standing close behind her, but not so close that they touched, though it was excruciating to resist. She would remember, the doctor had assured him, but he was beginning to think the man was a hopeless imbecile. The stupid bastard had given Charlotte sedatives when he obviously had no idea what drugs had been forced on her in Hong Kong. There were faint track marks on her arm from Jamey Huang’s sadistic handiwork, and Bly almost wished that Jamey was still alive, so he could kill him with his bare hands.

  The maid arrived, a quiet, courteous woman who led Charlotte into the sumptuous bathroom and began to prepare her bath. There were no windows anywhere in the villa—it was perched above a secluded stretch of beach, and many of the rooms jutted out over the water. Only floor-to-ceiling shutters were needed to shut out the sea and jungle panorama, or to provide a measure of privacy from civilization. But there really was no civilization to hide from at the Indigo Seas Bali, as it was unquestionably one of the most discreetly secluded luxury resorts in existence.