by Avery Aster
He angled his head to see her. “You always liked me?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Of course I did. Don’t pretend you didn’t know it, either.”
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised,” he teased as he flexed his muscles. “What’s not to like?”
She went up on one elbow and turned toward him. “How come you never acted on what was between us?” She winked. “God knows I tried to get you to.”
All humor fell from his eyes. “I’m not the guy for you,” he said soberly.
Her head jerked back. “How can you say that?”
“You don’t know me, Alaska.”
“Then let me get to know you.” When he went quiet, she asked, “Are you afraid I won’t like what I see?”
“I have nothing to offer you.”
Her glance moved over his face, taking in the scars he couldn’t hide with tattoos. “You’re right,” she said. “You were brought up in a horrible family, dragged up on the streets, and did what you had to do to survive. Really, you’re nothing but a bike-riding street thug.”
He flinched, and even though it was true, her words still stung. “Shit, why don’t you tell me what you really think?”
“I’d rather tell you what I know.”
“Go ahead, then. You know, since you seem to be on a roll and all.”
“Well, what I know is that for a guy who had to face what you did, you turned out to be pretty damn amazing.” He opened his mouth to cut her off, but she pressed her fingers to his lip and continued. “You’re the first guy, the first person in my entire life, who ever cared about me. You actually risked your life to give me a bit of excitement. Honestly, no one has ever put my needs first, especially at the risk of losing their life.” She shook her head. “Do you have any idea how much that means to me?” She trailed her fingers over his face, surfing the outline of his jaw. “But you’re right, any guy who would do what you did for me certainly isn’t the guy for me.”
“Listen, Alaska. You have a bright future ahead of you, and you don’t need a nobody like me dragging you down. In fact, when we go back home, I’m going to talk to your father. I’m going to tell him to let you live your own life.”
She smiled and settled her palm on his cheek. “You’d do that for me?”
“I would,” he said without hesitation. “And I will.”
“You know what he’ll do to you, right?”
“I don’t care what he does to me, because I’m not going to let him hold you back anymore.”
She traced her hands over his tattoo. “Just for the record, Jesse, you’re hardly a nobody. In fact, you’re my hero. You set all of this up, arranged a week at this amazing place, just for me. You gave me the opportunity to free myself in so many ways, and you showed me what real intimacy is.” She exhaled slowly and went back on her elbows. “And you should know, I’m not going back. I was offered a job dancing.”
Shocked, he stiffened, but then he smiled, because the more he thought about it, the more he knew this was perfect. Here, she’d get out from under her father’s control and live the life she wanted. “You’re so happy when you’re dancing.”
“I would ask you to stay with me, but I know you’d eventually get bored and abandon me just like everyone else I’ve ever cared about.”
Anger churned in his gut, and suddenly feeling very defensive, he shot back, “I took the job because I cared about your wellbeing. But the second I set eyes on you, I felt this jolt inside of me.” He shook his head. “I never felt anything like that before. It was like…like…”
“Destiny?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Alaska. All I know is that being so close to you, watching you every day, and not being able to touch you, kiss you, make you mine, damn near drove me out of my mind.” He cupped her face. “I’m not like your parents and would never tire of you, never in a million years. Believe me, I want to stay. If you’re not in Chicago, then there’s no reason for me to go back.”
“I guess that settles it then.” She gave him a triumphant grin.
His head came back with a start, realizing she’d turned everything back around on him. “Wait, did you just…”
She grinned. “Yeah. I’ve been taking psychology as my electives.”
“Alaska, I have nothing…”
“You have me. Do you need anything more?”
They stared at each other for a long time, and as he thought about her fantasies, he suddenly couldn’t stand the thoughts of another man’s hands on her body. He wanted to be the last guy to touch her, care for her, give her everything she wanted.
His fingers found hers as something in him gave. “Why do you want me, Alaska?”
“When I first stepped foot on this island, I felt like Cinderella. But then I realized Prince Charming didn’t exist because the men in my life were greedy and corrupt and cared only about themselves. You proved me wrong.” She squeezed his fingers. “You’re my Prince Charming.”
“I’m no…”
“Yes, you are. Believe me. I know what I’m talking about.”
There was a fire in her eyes that told him not to mess with her. “How?
“Because I believe in you.”
He swallowed and thought back to his fucked up childhood, his days street fighting. “No one has ever believed in me before.”
She nudged him playfully. “That’s because you’ve been hanging out with the wrong people.”
He grinned. “I should probably tell you that I was also offered a job here, as security.”
The excited smile that she aimed his way nearly stopped his heart. “It’s like this island knew what we needed long before we did.”
“Yeah, you might be right about that,” he said, thinking about how she crossed over into his reality at the motorcycle club.
Her eyes lit up with hope and joy. “So you’ll stay here.” She waved her hand toward the beach. “We can disappear here together on Eden.”
He pushed her hair from her face, his heart aching with all the things he felt for her. “Alaska, things won’t be like they were. Your fantasy ends on the weekend. You know that right?”
She smiled at him, a smile so full of love and warmth his chest swelled until he could barely catch his breath. She leaned into him, her sweet scent overwhelming him as she pressed her lips to his, a soft kiss, a kiss full of love and promise.
“You’re wrong, Jesse. My fantasy is just beginning.”
“Yeah?” he murmured into her mouth, knowing everything he ever wanted was right in front of him.
“Yeah,” she responded as she kissed him back.
Jesse pulled her in tighter. He might be a street thug, and she might be a mob boss’s daughter, but together, they were both half of something pretty cool, something he’d be a damn fool to walk away from. “I believe mine is, too, Alaska,” he murmured, deepening the kiss. “I believe mine is, too…”
# # #
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About Cathryn Fox
Cathryn is a wife, mom, sister, daughter, and friend. She loves dogs, sunny weather, anything chocolate (she never says no to a brownie) pizza and red wine. She has two teenagers who keep her busy with their never ending activities, and a husband who is convinced he can turn her into a mixed martial arts fan. Cathryn can never find balance in her life, is always trying to find time to go to the gym, can never keep up with emails, Face
book or Twitter and tries to write page-turning books that her readers will love.
A maritime native and former financial officer, Cathryn has lived all over Canada but has finally settled down in her childhood hometown with her family.
Other Books by Cathryn Fox
Single Titles
Hands On with the CEO
Yours to Take
Torn Between Two Brothers
Spring Fling
Hold Me Down Hard
Holiday Spirit
Breaking Free
Blood Ties
One on One
Dance of the Dragon
Unleashed
Sun Stroked
Knocking on Demon’s Door
Web of Desire
Firefighter Heat
Fever
Siren
Flash Fire
Summer Lovin’
Crashing Down
Wasted Summer
Weekend Cowboys
Cowboy’s Way
Bedding Down
Riding Bareback
Pleasure Games
Pleasure Control
Pleasure Prolonged
Pleasure Exchange
Pleasure Inn
All Tied up
All Worked Up
All Lit Up
Eternal Pleasure
Instinctive
Impulsive
Indulgent
Hell
Hotter Than Hell
Hell’s Angel
Raise A Little Hell
Excerpts
If you would like to read more Cathryn Fox stories, she recommends His Obsession Next Door, the first in her new In the Line of Duty series, which leads to His Trouble in Tallulah, His Strings to Pull, His Taste of Temptation and His Moment to Steal.
Or if you want hotter and shorter, Cathryn recommends her Firefighter Heat series, currently consisting of FEVER, SIREN, and FLASH FIRE.
Here are two short excepts from HIS OBSESSION NEXT DOOR and FEVER
His Obsession Next Door
Cathryn Fox
Excerpt
What the hell did she think she was doing?
Night blanketed the city as Cole stood near his living room window, watching Gemma mill about her condo through the crack in her curtains. His condo might be the only one with a direct view into her place, but if someone passed by on the street, they could easily see her barely clad body moving from one room to another.
Dressed in a silky little piece of nothing that had his passion-rattled mind urging him to go over there and fuck some sense back into her, he fisted his hands, drove them into his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels.
A slow tremor worked its way through his body. His cock, still hard since setting sight on her four days ago, when she’d answered her door in a silky nightgown, was ready to break through its zippered barrier and rise up for a front row seat. Seeing her standing there looking all warm, soft, sexy and sleepy, had him aching to capture her in his arms and carry her straight back to her bed. Once he had her where he wanted her he’d climb between those long legs of hers and bury his mouth in the apex of her thighs—something he’d been dreaming of doing for far too long now. Christ, what he wouldn’t have done to spend the rest of that day making her scream for him. And scream she would. He growled, and on the floor near his feet, Charlie, who had healed up quite nicely since his surgery, thumped his tail.
Cole gave a hard shake of his head in a failed effort to clear it. He’d been watching her for three long nights now, going into his fourth, and he was pretty sure the girl next door—one who suddenly seemed more seductive than sweet—was up to her old tricks, teasing and tormenting him to the point of distraction.
“That girl is going to be the death of me,” he said to his dog, and Charlie gave a whimper, like he was fully aware of Cole’s discomfort.
The light in her living room flicked off. Cole shifted, about to grab a cold beer to help tamp down the heat inside him when her bathroom light came on. Jesus, with her curtains parted he could see her standing in front of her mirror, her hands gripping the hem of her camisole. He swallowed, hard, and tried not to look. He really did. But by God, even though ogling the half-naked beauty across the street was all kind of wrong, there was nothing he could do to tear his gaze away from the woman who’d become the object of his obsession. After all, he was a man, and a man only had so much willpower.
She peeled her top off to expose the most luscious breasts he’d ever set eyes on. As lust settled deep in his groin his cock throbbed, aching for attention. Working to summon a modicum of control as she wiggled, he gripped the windowpane and swallowed down the saliva pooling in his mouth. He couldn’t see below her waist, but from the way her breasts were swaying, her long dark curls flaring around her face, he could only guess she was shimmying out of her panties.
Fuck.
She turned her back to the window and reached into her shower to turn it on. If he wasn’t mistaken she shot a sassy glance his way before climbing in. Son of a bitch. She really was fucking with him
FEVER
Cathryn Fox
Excerpt
The shrill of their special phone pulled him from his musings and helped marshal his thoughts. “I got it.” Welcoming the distraction, he jumped to his feet and pushed away from the card table. Without haste, he made his way across the room.
Fuck. Maybe tonight he’d take the call. Although it had been a long time since he’d participated in the Hot Line, perhaps a soft bed and an even softer woman would help take the edge off and get his mind off Sara.
When he glanced at the caller ID, his heart raced, his blood pressure soared. Jesus H. Christ. Everything in him reacted to the name displayed in the small glass window. Tension rose in him as his cock urged him to answer the phone, along with the sexual demands of his body.
What the fuck was he supposed to do now?
Despite his rock hard cock screaming at him to pick up that phone and give Sara exactly what she wanted, he took a measured step back, but not far enough that he still couldn’t reach it. If he wanted to. But he didn’t want to. Okay, he wanted to, but he wasn’t going to.
He was not going to pick it up.
No way.
No how.
Walk away, Mitch. Just walk away.
Before he could stop himself, his fingers closed over the receiver and squeezed until his knuckles turned white.
Just then Dean poked his head around the corner. Grinning like the crazy, intuitive son-of-a-bitch he was, he asked, “You want me to get that?”
“I got it,” Mitch growled and ripped the phone from the cradle. He pressed it to his ear and said gruffly, “Hello.”
Sara’s soft, sexy voice sounded on the other end. “Mitch?”
“Yeah?”
Forgoing pleasantries and getting right to the point, she said, “My kitty stopped purring. I think it needs to be resuscitated.”
Sweet Mother of God! Mitch slapped his hand to his forehead and drew a steadying breath, working overtime to tamp down his roaring libido. He failed.
Lust ripped through him like a raging forest fire, making him tremble with pent-up need. He growled low in his throat, unable to tame the primal animal rising up inside him, crumbling his resolve to keep his distance. Despite knowing better, he had every intention of breathing life back into her kitty, over and over again, using every means possible, if he had to.
If she expected anything less, she’d called the wrong guy on the wrong night.
# # #
Rough Draft
Mari Carr
Capture, bondage and fantasies fulfilled.
It’s all fun and games until someone gets killed.
Copyright 2015 Mari Carr
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Epilogue
About The Author
Go to next book
Go to previous book
Go to Table of Contents
Chapter One
“What are you doing here?”
Jett Lewis stopped just inside the door of the Royal Lunch, his favorite dive in all of New Orleans, but the bartender—and his best friend—Carissa was looking at him as if he’d just committed some unspeakable crime.
He tilted his head, confused by the hostility in her tone. “This is a bar and I want a drink. Those two things seemed to fit together.”
Her scowl remained firmly in place. “It’s Sunday.”
He chuckled. “No shit.”
She rolled her eyes, not amused. “You always go to your mother’s house for dinner on Sunday.”
Carissa wasn’t behind the counter. In fact, she appeared to be on her way out. “You’re not working today?” he asked, ignoring her previous comment.
He was purposely avoiding Sunday dinner at his mother’s house, but he didn’t want to get into that with Carissa. Truth was, he wanted exactly what he’d told her. A drink. Preferably a stiff one. And then maybe two or three or a dozen more after the first.
Carissa seemed flummoxed—something his self-assured, straight-shooting friend never was. “Um…no. I was going to run, um, a few errands.”
Jett was fairly certain he’d never heard Carissa tell a lie until that moment. “Is that right?”
She narrowed her eyes as if annoyed, but swallowed heavily, her guilty behavior telling him she knew she’d been caught. “Yes.” Her single-word response came just two beats too late.
“Where are you really going?”
She crossed her arms and blew out an exasperated breath. “What the hell are you doing here? You never come in on Sundays. Ever.”
He ignored her question and glanced at Shawn, one of her part-time employees, manning the bar. “I’m having a drink.”
Jett walked to his usual spot at the end of the counter and sat down. Raising his hand to catch Shawn’s attention, he said, “Scotch on the rocks.”
Shawn nodded and began pouring as Carissa audibly sighed from across the room. She pulled her cell out of her back pocket, typed something onto it then came over to join him.