by Cathryn Fox
Jesus, what was he going to tell her? That he was hired by her father to watch over her? That he wasn’t who she thought he was? The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her or deceive her. After all, she trusted him enough to try to seduce him.
Okay, he needed to put some distance between them. But when she went up on her tippy toes and put her mouth close to his, every reason he had for keeping his distance suddenly dissolved.
“I think going for a swim is a great idea.” The soft seduction in her voice pulled him in and shattered any semblance of control he thought he had.
Without warning, she climbed into the water. At the sight of her gorgeous, wet body, need exploded inside him.
Ah, Jesus…
Unable to contain the heat rising in him, he jumped into the water with her, knowing there was only one way to feed the hunger gnawing at his insides. When she stepped close, and skin touched skin, she poised her mouth open in invitation. His cock took over where his brain left off and his lips crashed down on hers. Aware of her desire, he gripped her by the hips and pulled her to him, meshing their bodies together and lining up their nether regions. When he pushed his cock against her pussy, she gyrated and moaned into his mouth.
As the warm afternoon sun beat down on them, it occurred to him that they were outdoors, in plain sight. Hell, he needed to get behind closed doors with her before someone stumbled upon them. “The path…people.” He felt a tremor move through her and realized how much that excited her. He gave a low, heated laugh, intrigued by her boldness. “I had no idea you were so naughty,” he whispered into her mouth.
Her laughter churned with passion and expressive eyes brimmed with desire. “Neither did I. Until just now. You must bring that out in me.” She cupped his cock and gave a gentle squeeze. “Now let’s see what I can bring out in you.”
Christ, he knew better than to get intimate with her—especially in public—but the look in her eyes and the thrill it gave her to play this little exhibitionist game prompted him into action. Every damn reason he had for staying away from her suddenly seemed so insignificant, and giving her everything she ever wanted had become more important than his own well-being.
He gripped her tank top and peeled it over her head, exposing her luscious breasts. With pleasure racing through him, Marc moaned and wet his mouth. “So beautiful,” he murmured and brushed the pad of his thumb over one perfect nipple.
She arched into him, and he could hear the note of desperation lacing her voice when she asked, “Would you like a taste?”
Cravings like he’d never before experienced swamped him. “Hell, you know I would.” Trembling and entirely lost in the moment, he inclined his head and drew her hard bud into his mouth. Fuck… Her fingers raked through his hair and held him tight. As she swelled in his mouth, she gave a low erotic whimper and he damn near erupted on the spot.
Her hands raced over him with aroused eagerness, tugging at his shirt and shorts almost frantically. Wanting to slow her down so they could enjoy and savor every sinful moment, he inched back, gripped her hands and placed them at her sides. His gaze moved to hers, and when his glance was met with heat, passion and vulnerability swirling around in a sea of green, his heart softened and everything inside him reached out to her. Tenderness stole over him as emotions gathered in a knot deep in his gut, and he instinctively knew he had to make this good for her. So damn good it would help her fight every last demon that plagued her darkest corner.
He pitched his voice low. “Come here, sweetheart.”
She stepped into him and he backed her up against the embankment. Once he had her caged between his body and the grass, he leaned in for a slow soul-searching kiss.
She tugged at him, heat reflecting in her eyes. “Easy, baby,” he responded, and once again secured her hands to her sides.
Their gazes collided. “Marc, please…”
Reining in his lust, he took in the erotic sight of her and the way she had so readily opened up to him, trusting him with her pleasure. “You can beg all you want,” he assured her with a grin, as the cool water lapped at his waist. “But I’m not in any hurry. Now that I have you where I want you, I’m going to leisurely explore your body.” With that he gently shaped her contours, kneading her flesh and enjoying the feel of her soft curves in his palms. His mouth moved to her neck. With slow, easy movements, he properly introduced himself to her. Trailing lower, he paid homage to her breasts using his hands, mouth and tongue, sucking, nibbling and licking and taking his sweet-ass time before moving to her belly button, which was just inches out of the water.
Needing to go lower, he lifted her by the hips and set her on the bank, lining her pussy up with his mouth. He gripped her shorts and toyed with the waistband.
“Marc…?”
“Yeah, babe.” The strange look on her face spoke volumes. She didn’t understand his slow seduction, his need to please her. Didn’t understand that it gave him pleasure just to pleasure her.
Her eyes clouded and he felt a curious shift inside him. “I…I—”
“I know, babe. Really, I do.” And he did know. That every asshole she’d been with had cared more about his needs than hers. Deciding to show her another side of lovemaking, Marc proceeded to inch her shorts down her silky legs, leaving her lacy panties behind.
She sat before him, quivering, her eyes watching his every move carefully. She reached for him, to touch him in return, her soft hands greedily sliding over his skin, and even though he liked it, he anchored her hands to her sides, intent on making this all about her.
Scorching sex: definitely on the menu. Hold the love, please.
Romeo for Hire
© 2009 Jane Beckenham
Workaholic Carly Mason is caught between a rock and a hard place. The rock: an invitation for four days of sun, sand and...well you get the picture...with her friends. And her mystery man. The hard place: Mr. Invisible, who lusts after her with delicious abandon, is a fantasy that doesn’t really exist.
Then she encounters a motorbike-riding Adonis whose image taunts her during the wee small hours. And when fate drops him in her sights the next day, she grabs the opportunity to offer him a job. Pretend to be her Romeo, just for the duration of her getaway.
Exhausted from months negotiating his multi-million dollar company’s expansion, Marco Valente is more than tempted by Carly’s outrageous proposal. If nothing else, it’ll give him a temporary escape from his high profile life—and his mother’s serial bride attitude.
Once on the island, Carly realizes she’s been tricked. She and Marco are the only ones there. Neither has a mobile phone—and the helicopter is disappearing into the distance. For the next four days and nights, it’s just Carly and her hired Romeo. And a growing connection that definitely wasn’t part of the contract…
Warning: Contains two unbelievably stubborn people undergoing serious cell phone withdrawal, and seriously scorching sex on the beach. Not responsible for reader’s failure to apply sunblock before reading.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Romeo for Hire:
Marco’s touch set Carly on fire. It was sublime, everything she thought it would be, and more.
As she lay on the bed, she watched him strip, clothes falling where he dropped them. He was a magnificent man and she couldn’t take her eyes off him. Broad shoulders tapered to slim hips, the smattering of jet-black chest hair beckoning her fingers. Carly lowered her gaze, suddenly filled with a raging, hungering need to explore his glorious body and any residual calm she thought she possessed shattered as he eased his long, taut body next to hers.
He reached for her, and her body grazed his, chest to chest, hip to hip, the hard sensual thrust of his arousal a potent reminder that Marco was all male. Slowly his eyes darkened to a blue-black, holding hers in a powerful force. His lips sought her mouth, arousing her with a whisper-soft touch. Carly groaned and her body yielded, arching against his. Marco’s breathing came in short, sharp intakes and the pulse in the base of his throat thr
obbed. She ran a finger over it, felt it skip an erratic dance. She couldn’t help but smile, enjoying his reaction to her.
“Lesson one,” he whispered in her ear.
Carly braced herself, waiting with excited expectation, her eyes closing the moment before he dropped soft, shivery kisses on her eyelids then her earlobes and continuing down to her throat.
Her skin burned with desire, her body consumed by a basic need. She wound her arms around his neck, holding on, praying it wasn’t a dream and, like a genie, he would vanish. With the tips of her fingers sliding through his silky hair, the texture a sensual play against her own soft skin, she tilted his head down to her breast.
“You taste delicious,” he groaned as he suckled on one pebble-hard nub.
Hearing his whispered ecstasy, she smiled, satisfied. Nothing else mattered. “I’m learning,” she managed to say between the teasing kisses he dotted across her lips, her eyes, her face.
“You’re a good student,” he agreed and sought solace from her other breast. “Your body is so responsive, cara mia.”
Carly couldn’t think clearly, her mind fragmented. She could only feel, touch and taste. All thought beyond the now was gone.
Reacting with a compulsion and desire so strong, she lifted her hips to his. His erection pulsed against her stomach and he began to explore her intimately, teasing her to even greater heights than she thought possible. Emboldened, she slipped her hand between them and clasped him, smiling as Marco exhaled a harsh, ragged gasp.
“Lesson number two.”
She smiled. “I try to please.”
“You do. Very much.”
Lost in a sensory world, Carly’s mind went blank. Only Marco touching her, urging her with his fingers as they flickered over her slickness, was important. She gloried in the sensations whirling through her veins, the rhythm of his heightened touch. Finally, as she reached for some intangible goal, allowing her body to surrender completely, her cry of pleasure pierced the night as Marco brought her to heart-wrenching, joyous fulfillment.
Nothing had prepared Carly for this. Nothing. She lay dazed in utter contentment, savoring the spine-tingling moment, too happy to breathe, too fulfilled to think.
Finally, as every wonderful sensation washed over her in a gentle ebbing caress, she let out a shuddering sigh of total release and contentment. “That was beautiful.”
“Beauty for the beautiful, amore.” Marco grinned and trailed a finger down the side of her cheek. “Lesson number three, cara. A man makes sure his woman is pleased,” he whispered into the fall of her hair and again began dotting butterfly-soft kisses down the curve of her throat. It sent goose bumps shimmying up and down her spine, an instant heat pulsing between her thighs.
“You have pleased me. I’ve never…” Her voice trailed off, and an embarrassed heat rushed to her cheeks.
But Marco pulled back and the tip of his finger lifted her chin. Her gaze met his.
“Pleasure, Marco. That was the pinnacle of pleasure. I feel complete.” And she was. It echoed through her body in a continuous salve of pure joy and made her heart sing. “You’ve made me come alive. I don’t want to even breathe in case it disappears.” She ran her hands across his skin, reveling in the feel of it beneath her fingertips. “I never want to lose this feeling. To lose…”
“Shush. That is impossible. We have all night.” Dark, teasing glints flickered in Marco’s passion-filled eyes.
“All night. Sounds perfect.” Reaching up, Carly trailed a path over the rough sandpaper stubble of his chin. “Everything I touch is so heightened, so erotic and arousing,” she whispered. “Are our lessons finished?”
One dark eyebrow arched humorously. “Life is one long lesson.”
Carly curved a hand around his blatantly aroused penis, stroking the thick shaft. She arched back, her legs parting. “Then hadn’t we better get on with the lesson?” she asked with a wicked smile.
“The final lesson is about to begin. Kiss me. Now,” Marco instructed and with a gentleness that surprised and warmed her, he edged himself to her moist center, tentative and teasing as he nudged at her slick folds.
“Now, Marco. Please?”
He smiled down at her. “Patience, cara. A man needs to know his journey before he starts.”
Inch by delicious inch, Marco entered her. Carly reveled in the feel of him, wanting him to fill her. Faster. Harder.
“At last,” Marco sighed and captured her lips. “I’ve waited a long time for this.”
Lilting laughter slid from Carly. “A few days.”
“It seems a lifetime.”
Touching her crosses the line…and shoots his code of honor all to hell.
Breaking Daylight
© 2010 MJ Fredrick
Sergeant Alex Shepard is all about getting the job done. That single-minded purpose helps him forget the fact he hates the jungle as he leads his Special Forces team in search of Honduran drug lord Santiago Saldana. His quarry eludes him, but the woman left behind in the compound is the next best thing. Saldana’s mistress—an American woman who clearly puts her own pleasure over right and wrong.
Isabella Canales has been Saldana’s prisoner for four long years. Worse, he’s taken away her most precious possession. Except Alex doesn’t believe a word of it. The clock is ticking, and she’s frantic to do anything to convince him to take her home. Even agree to serve as bait to draw Saldana out.
As they push through the tangled jungle dodging bullets and ambushes, Alex fights his growing respect for Isabella’s determination—and an attraction that’s impossible to resist, whatever she’s done. But Saldana never lets go of what’s his. And betrayal is his deadliest weapon…
Warning: An arrogant hero who meets his match in a sexy heroine who makes him look past her face and into his soul. Gunfights and explosions (in and out of the bedroom).
Enjoy the following excerpt for Breaking Daylight:
She looked through the peephole, saw the top of a bent head.
She jumped, choking back a scream when he pounded again.
“Open up, Goddess.”
Shepard.
Still shaking, she unlatched the door and turned the knob. Shepard swayed in the doorway, clearly drunk, but when he lifted his eyes to hers, she recognized his vulnerability in his sad eyes, downturned mouth.
“Shepard, what is it?”
But he didn’t speak, just stepped inside the room, closing the door behind him. He slid a hand under her hair, bending to kiss her in the same movement.
She’d longed to know how he would taste, but tequila had had no part in her imagination. Not like this. When she pushed at his shoulders, he eased back to look at her, his eyes heavy lidded and filled with pain.
Then he whispered, “Isabella. I need you.”
She didn’t want his words to mean anything. She’d heard them before from men who didn’t even know her name. She had dreamed of Shepard being different, that he might actually love her, would take care of her the way he loved and cared for Rebecca. But she was scared to hope.
Still, hope had her curling her fingers around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers.
His mouth was hard, like the rest of him, hot, commanding. His stubble rasped her tender lips as he closed his hands around her waist, his calluses snagging the silky fabric of her robe.
Then he pulled it apart.
She grasped his wrists. “Rebecca.” She wouldn’t betray another woman.
He frowned. “It’s over.”
The hope flared brighter and she was ashamed of herself for a moment. Shepard was hurting, Rebecca too, and she was taking advantage of it. He wouldn’t like her any better in the morning than he had twelve hours ago but she didn’t care. If it was all she could have, she was fine with that. She wanted to know what it was to be with someone who made her feel safe.
His tongue in her mouth was skilled, daring, moving in strokes and sweeps that had her toes curling into the plush carpet. When he parted the robe a litt
le more, the roughness of his clothes rasped her skin.
She wanted more.
He backed her up until her hips bumped the edge of the dresser, and she reached to balance herself. His fingers tangled her hair and he tugged her head back, releasing her mouth and following the line of her throat with his lips.
She moaned and felt him smile against her skin.
Then he went lower, tracing that bared strip of skin between her breasts, pausing only long enough to release the robe’s tie, then down her belly.
His hot breath sent shivers over her skin. He parted her legs and his mouth was on her with the same manner of command as he’d kissed her, his lips drawing, his tongue darting, stroking her swollen flesh with amazing accuracy.
The orgasm hit her hard. She came with a keening cry, arching backwards, gripping the dresser, but he didn’t stop, draining every bit of pleasure from her, adding his fingers, alternately stroking and penetrating her until she came harder, the room spinning, the only solid thing holding her up was Shepard.
As casually as if he hadn’t destroyed her, he stood, watching as she sprawled helplessly in front of him, boneless. He kissed her again, his mouth wet with her, peeling her robe away, sharpening her desire. She clutched at him, sliding her hands up under his T-shirt to feel the ridges of muscle, to urge him to undress.
He stripped off his shirt and she reached for him, wanting to touch, feel, claim, but he moved back, shucking off his pants too. The erection she’d seen at the waterfall was just as magnificent, but he’d sheathed himself before she could touch him.
“Turn around,” he said, and she did, on shaky legs.
He pressed a hand between her shoulder blades, bending her over the dresser so she was face to face with her own reflection in the mirror. Then he parted her legs and entered her with a powerful thrust.
Humiliation warred with arousal as she watched his face in the mirror, watched him moving, feeling the corresponding strokes. It was sexy as hell, but their first time should be face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. Romantic, not sexual acrobatics.