by MI
That wasn’t the case at the moment, however. No, when it came to his present company, Aldo had absolutely no cause for complaint. Tonight’s operation had him working in tandem with a new partner, an agent on temporary loan from some alphabet agency; Aldo wasn’t sure which one. He hadn’t asked. He didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, it didn’t matter. They were all pretty much the same, and the agent would be gone soon either way. Unless Aldo had missed his guess—a possibility he considered most unlikely—his new partner had been chosen for this assignment based solely on his looks. And Aldo was certainly not unhappy with those either.
He had no idea how much of the other man’s appearance was due to surgical alteration or chemical enhancement, but that was something else he sure as hell didn’t care about. Hot was hot, and Special Agent Caleb Mitchell was just about the hottest thing Aldo had seen in a good long while.
Standing at a hair under six feet, Caleb was just a couple of inches shorter than Aldo. He had fair hair, full lips, broad shoulders atop a dancer’s slim build, and everything about him, from his features to his proportions, was a little too perfect to be real. If the man had a flaw anywhere, Aldo had yet to find it, and not for any lack of searching. Even though they were both pushing forty, only Aldo looked his age. Special Agent Mitchell had obviously been the recent recipient of some highly classified and no doubt heavily restricted cell de-aging therapy, giving him the appearance of a man a good two decades younger than his current chronological age, the lucky bastard.
On second thought, maybe it was Aldo who’d lucked out; he got to look at the bastard, after all.
It was the case the two men were working that had brought them here tonight, to this exclusive private club located high in the Oakland Hills. Aldo’s role in Operation Midas—the elaborate sting the department was running—was to attempt to infiltrate a notorious local group of wealthy, degenerate scumbags. His appearance at tonight’s function, and the apparent arrest that—if everything went as planned—would shortly follow, was supposed to give him the “street cred” he needed in order to gain the scumbags’ trust and acceptance. Disguised as yet another degenerate wannabe, Aldo had done his best all evening to ingratiate himself with the crew. Agent Mitchell, by virtue of his rent boy looks, had been picked to play the part of Aldo’s paid escort or, as Aldo had jokingly told him, to do as he was told and look pretty doing it. He was playing his part very well, in Aldo’s considered opinion, particularly at the moment.
Another gust of air blew across the parking lot. The body stretched beneath Aldo’s shivered, but was it in response to the sudden chill or to the press of Aldo’s fingers that had just breached his opening? Aldo leaned in closer, partially in an attempt to shield Caleb from the cool, night air, partially for the pleasure of pressing himself more firmly against that delectable flesh. “Whattsa matter, darling?” he whispered playfully in the other man’s ear. “Cold?”
Caleb—bent over the hood of the shiny-new Mercedes Aldo had requisitioned for tonight’s operation—glanced up at him and scowled. “Fuck you, Nash. Skip the chitchat, all right? Let’s just get this over with.” Up until that moment, Aldo had found Caleb’s permanently raspy voice a big turn-on, but there was nothing sexy about that angry tone, the gritted teeth, the fury blazing in those jade-green eyes.
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Excerpt: Big Bad John
RG Alexander
Trudy smiled and hummed one of her older songs under her breath, promising herself she would visit the old woman tomorrow.
A low male sound of appreciation caused her to look up at the reflective surface of the window. John stood behind her. How had he gotten that close without her noticing?
“I’ve missed hearing that in person,” he murmured. “You’ve always had such a beautiful voice. A voice like that should be shared.”
Oh God. Between one breath and the next—that quickly—Trudy’s body reacted to the intimate tone. Her stomach fluttered and her bones seemed to melt, forcing her to lean against the large, stainless steel sink to keep upright. Watching him. “Thank you.”
He moved closer and reached around her body to grip one of her hands, still under the running water. His fingers twined with hers. “I didn’t mean for you to do this. You cooked, the least I can do is clean up after.”
She could hardly breathe. “I didn’t mind.” The heat of his body was burning her skin, the thin straps of her lavender tank top tight over her shoulders as she tensed. Waiting. Wondering what would happen next. “Is Jefferson settled in?”
John’s other hand came up to trace feather light circles on her shoulder, down the outside of her arm. His hands were rough from years of manual labor, making her feel soft and feminine. Everywhere he touched her was charged. Electric.
It shouldn’t still be like this. Intense. Intimate. They were strangers now. Why was her reaction so strong?
“John, we should talk about how we’re going to stop him from—”
“We have plenty of time for that. I don’t want to talk about your brother, Trouble.” His fingers tightened on her skin. “Or your news, as good as it is. And neither do you.”
“I don’t?”
“No,” he assured her, his voice low and rough. “I should let you get settled in, should wait, but you’ve been watching me all night, Trudy. Made it damn near impossible to keep track of what your fast-talking friend was saying. You’ve been thinking about kissing me again. Been wondering if, after all this time, there would still be sparks. If it would be as good as you remember.”
Trudy was a sucker for a confident man. This confident man in particular. But she couldn’t let her guard down. Not here. Not now.
She turned, her body brushing against his as she moved to face him. His cheeks were flushed, his blue eyes dark and seductive.
How was she supposed to think when he looked at her that way?
“And you’ve been spending too much time in the sticks, Big John.” She lifted her chin and raised her eyebrow in what she hoped was a condescending expression. “You don’t know what I’m thinking. Don’t know me. You haven’t seen me or talked to me in over ten years. What makes you think I have any desire to kiss you? That I’m not already taken?”
He gripped her waist with his hands and lifted her until she was sitting precariously on the edge of the sink, then took one more step until he was standing between her legs. “I know you better than you think I do,” he whispered. “Better than your fans. But if I’m off base, if it’s just me feeling this, then do me a favor…prove me wrong.”
Her arms hovered uncertainly in the air with the first teasing brush of his lips against hers. After his words, she’d expected an all-out assault. A demand. This was something different. His tongue stroked her upper lip and then he smiled. His teeth scraped her lower lip lightly…and then he withdrew.
“What are you doing?” she gasped softly when his breath puffed against her lips, though he didn’t move in to take what she knew he wanted.
“Waiting.” His reply was just as soft. “For you to admit what you want so I can give it to you. Right now, when your friend could come down at any moment. Right here, where anyone could see.” He skimmed her lips once more with his and groaned. “Prove me wrong, Trudy. Tell me you don’t want to know.”
Every word he uttered was a seduction, and every struggling breath she fought to take was one more step toward succumbing to it. She did want to know. Wanted to know if a decade of fantasy could be topped by the real thing. If her memory had made it into more than it was.
Her hands fell onto his shoulders and she wrapped her legs around his thighs, pulling him closer. “Kiss me then. I want you to kiss me.”
“There’s Trouble. Good girl.”
After that it was hard for her to think. His mouth was on hers, claiming her the way he had years before, when she hadn’t been ready. Hadn’t known that no one else would ever come close. Their tongues tangled and she tasted sweet barbecue and spice…and John.
> She wanted more.
Her fingers reached for the buttons on his shirt but he stopped her, his hands reaching up to grip her wrists and lowering her arms until they were behind her back. Until her spine was arched and her breasts were pressing hard against his chest.
Oh God, she didn’t want to stop touching him but…oh God. How did he know? How could he know that what he was doing was only making her want him more? Pushing all her buttons. Turning her on. Arousal washed over her and the heat made her tighten her thighs, desperate for more contact. For the pressure she knew could help alleviate the ache inside her.
John leaned back, away from her questing mouth and chuckle roughly. “A kiss, Trudy. That’s all you asked for and all you’re getting tonight.”
“What?”
She struggled in surprise but he didn’t loosen his grip on her wrists. Didn’t stop smiling. “What the hell is this?”
“This is a taste of what’s coming. And a challenge.”
He knew she could never resist a challenge.
Damn it.
“I’m listening.”
“I hope you are.” His grip tightened momentarily on her wrists, making her gasp…making her wet. He bit his lip. “I don’t see the point in denying it when it’s clear we still have something between us. Unfinished business. You still want me. I still want you…”
And it was still an impossible situation. “John, I—”
“Hush,” he reprimanded lightly, leaning forward to bite her chin in a gentle warning. “Two weeks, Trudy. You’re here for two weeks. I know you feel the need to sort Jefferson out and you want to help your friend get her story. All while you get ready for your life to change forever. But other than that, for as long as you’re here…say you’ll be mine.”
“Yours?”
He nodded. “In every way. You’ll come with me wherever I want to take you. Do whatever I ask you to do, and unless you draw a line or tell me to stop, I’ll be asking for a lot.”
This sounded… “John, are you negotiating with me?” How did he find out? Had he talked to Caroline when she was with her brother? “Are you…are you asking me to…?”
“Give in. Submit.” His expression was hard and resolved. His free hand slid up her ribcage and caressed one heavy breast, as if he couldn’t help himself. She pushed into his hand instinctively. “I’m not asking for strings. This ends the day you leave and without any regrets. I’m asking you to give yourself to me, Trudy. The way we both know you’re dying to.”
Cocky, arrogant—irresistible. “Just sex?”
His smile was dangerous. “Oh no. This is going to be so much more than just sex, Trouble. I think you know it. The question is, after all these years, are you still brave enough to say yes?”
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Excerpt: Rogue
Eden Bradley
Rogue looked up at him, the blood lust on his lovely face—a face that would have been almost effeminate if he hadn’t been so full of rage, he was that beautiful. No more than nineteen or twenty when Turned.
Barely a man.
Ramsey stroked a hand over Rogue’s jaw, and the young vampire turned his face into his palm and bit him.
A small, searing pain—enough to make his cock jump, to remind him that despite this fledgling’s pain he had lived a hundred years. He was a man. A vampire. And they both wanted.
But he would not let him drink. “No!”
With a roar Ramsey threw him to the hard marble floor and in moments Rogue’s clothes were in shreds. Mon Dieu, but his body was beautiful to behold—all long limbs and gorgeously polished pale skin, his cock a shaft of pure, hard ivory. He reached out to touch the tip, to stroke with his fingertips, and felt Rogue’s silent shudder. He pressed his fingers to one dark pink nipple, plump and luscious against the fair, fair skin. He pinched, hard. Rogue moaned, began to struggle but Ramsey held him down with one hand flat against the center of his smooth chest.
“You like the pain, do you Rogue?”
“I do,” he answered, a little fire in his tone. A small challenge.
“Then you should like this.”
He tore the front of his slacks to get to his own stiff cock, shoved Rogue’s thighs apart and plunged into his ass.
He felt the skin tear, heard Rogue’s howl of pain, of pleasure. Felt those desperate hands scratching at his hips, his thighs. None of that mattered—only fucking him hard and fast and merciless, as cruelly as this luscious young Rogue clearly needed it.
He was filling up with pleasure, driving hard into the younger vampire, knowing had he fucked a human in this way they would have been dead almost instantly. That made it even better for him—to know that he pushed those boundaries even with vampire flesh.
When Rogue reached for his shoulders Ramsey grabbed his wrists in one hand, held them over his head. Fucked him harder, his hips slamming into him. And oh, the exquisite feel of Rogue’s young ass, like a velvet sheath around his pounding cock.
The young vampire kicked at him, his feet finding his ribcage, pounding on the back of his thighs. Ramsey didn’t know if it were any kind of true struggle or simply the primal need to fight, the more primal need to open his ass to him even more, or the lost animal struggle of sex and power, the blood and the driving, screeching lust.
“You’re fucking tearing me apart,” Rogue gasped, bucking and kicking, but whether to try to throw him off him or draw him deeper into his youthful body, Ramsey wouldn’t have known had Rogue’s cock not been pulsing so hard.
He grasped the heavy shaft in his hand, squeezed the head with his fingertips.
“Yes, mon cher. And you love it.”
In answer Rogue only closed his eyes, muttered, “Fuck you.”
Ramsey felt the gleeful grin on his face as his climax approached. He held it back as he continued to pump, hovering at that edge, his body undulating with the first waves of orgasm, his vision blurring, hazed with the blood lust. His grin turned into a teeth-baring howl—pleasure and pain and a touch of fury rushing through him like some intoxication liqueur. He plunged to sink his fangs in to Rogue’s sweet young neck.
Christ, he was coming so damn hard he thought he might die, if he could. It fucking hurt, it felt so damn good—Ramsey’s thick cock piercing him again and again, a hard, savage fucking the likes of which he’d never had, and realized at that moment he’d always craved. That gorgeous mouth latched onto his neck, sucking and sucking.
“Ah…damn it. Fuck you,” he said again.
“No, my darling,” Ramsey panted against his throat, still coming, shivering with it. “Fuck you.”
He arched his hips, ramming into him once more, so hard he swore he could feel the head of his cock in his belly.
God, the pleasure…And the smell of blood was everywhere in the air—that earthy, metallic scent that was particular to the vampires, as if tainted with silver and gold, mercury and the press of endless centuries.
Ramsey’s teeth pierced his throat, sucking, drinking.
He turned his head and went for the older vampire’s arm, his teeth sinking in.
“No!” Ramsey tore his arm away. “You will not have my blood.”
But he was too lost in the spiraling ecstasy of climax to care as Ramsey fucked him, milking his cock with his strong hand. He closed his eyes and let the last shimmering waves tremble through him.
Finally Ramsey released his cock, and got up to pace before the windows, gloriously naked. Rogue rested on one elbow, watching him.
“Why will you not share your blood with me?” he asked. “Is this some power play?”
Ramsey kept his back to him. “I have no need of such things when it comes to the blood. When it is power play you will know it—you did know it. I am older than you, stronger. And this place is mine. Why would I need to prove anything?”
“You tell me.”
Ramsey turned back to him, his eyes gleaming dangerously. “Do not think because I’ve fucked you that I will be lenient with you, young one, or
that I will accept disrespect. I owe you nothing.”
“And whatever I owe you for trespassing you took out in rather enjoyable trade, which I believe evens the playing field, does it not?”
Ramsey chuckled, breaking the tension. “Oh, you are full of yourself.”
Rogue grinned at him, letting his fangs show. “Ah, you discover my evil secret. And I was working so industriously to conceal it.”
“Not so secret, trust me.” Ramsey nodded at him. “Now get up and let’s finish our wine.”
“As the king commands.”
“I would happily make you pay for that remark, Rogue. In fact, you should know you will be made to pay for your poaching on my herds either way.”
“Again?” Rogue sat up, bracing his arms around his bent knees. “I hope that’s a promise.”
Ramsey advanced on him and Rogue’s cock twitched as he was yanked to his feet.
“Wine now, more fucking later,” he growled.
Excerpted from Rogue by Eden Bradley Copyright 2013 by Eden Bradley. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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Excerpt: Dreams of Ivory
From USA Today Bestselling Author Carrie Ann Ryan’s Holiday Montana Series
Dreams of Ivory
Chapter 1
"Maybe if he got laid, he wouldn't be such an ass."
Jackson Cooper gritted his teeth as the words floated into the grocery store aisle. He gripped the handle on his cart then took a deep breath. He had two choices: either confront the woman who’d spoken or walk past her and act like the ass he knew he was.
The latter seemed like the best choice since he really didn’t give two cents about an opinion from a woman he’d turned down.
Twice.
He put the box of pasta on the bottom of his cart and moved down the aisle, passing Jessica Turnip’s—the woman who’d spoken—and Claudia Sanders’ wide-eyed looks.