by Angel Payne
“I mean three weeks. You and me. Italy and France. Maybe Spain, if we have time. Rome? Venice? Marseilles? Paris? What sounds good?” His gaze narrowed when I could do nothing with mine but gawk. “We leave in ten days, so I can have the travel girls tweak the arrangements. I know you’ve also lusted after Tuscany. It’s harder to get to but we could work in a small side trip if you—” He halted, eyes searching my face, lips pursing in a midpoint between uncertainty and panic. I could count on one hand how many times I’d seen the look on his face. It stunned me just as much as what he’d said. “Claire?” He tapped a nervous thumb on his thigh. “For God’s sake, say something.”
I swallowed, forcing myself to comply. “I—it’s—well—whoa. Three weeks. Wow.”
“Which means what in English?”
I felt like a complete ass. Everything I said—stammered—was the wrong damn thing.
“I’m sorry. No, wait—I mean, I’m not sorry, not about—oh, hell. Did Andrea really agree to this? How pissed was she when you—”
“You’re worried about Andrea?” He looked furious as a wet wildcat stuck in a barrel over Niagara Falls—with my words as the rushing water.
“I’m ruining this,” I muttered. “Again.” When Killian’s jaw clenched so hard his chin nearly formed a V, I dropped my head and fell into silence, knowing if I said anything else, it would emerge on a tearful blubber.
Killian yanked me close again. “I have Andrea handled, baby. She’s Barney compared to the T-Rex’s I’ve taken on in my life.”
I giggled from the image of my boss’s elegant face poking out of a purple Barney costume. But what the hell did he mean by “T-Rex’s?” And wasn’t I not supposed to care anymore, anyway?
That took care of my resistance to the tears. Perfect. Now I was slinging the waterworks at him, to boot. And oh, how he loved that…not.
I pushed away, burying my face in my hands. “Please. I just need a re-do, okay? I’ll get this right, I promise.”
Killian growled. Hard. Right before clutching the back of my neck and forcing my face into the command of his deep, delving, mouth-mashing kiss. A whine tore up my throat, thick and needy, as I clawed at his arm, hanging onto him as my anchor during my dizzy ride into blissful surrender.
“You’re getting it right already.” His voice was as coarse as the steely shavings in his stare. “Understood?”
I started bawling harder.
Would he ever stop being amazing? Ever?
“Oh, baby.” He rubbed my cheek with a big thumb. “Don’t cry. I just wanted to make you happy. We don’t have to go. I can just have the girls cancel and—”
“Don’t. You. Dare.” Though my order spurred him to more laughter, I added, “I’m crying because I am happy. And…”
“And what?”
“And because of my own stupidity.” I returned his caress, pressing a hand to the magnificent, high plane of his cheek. “You are…amazing. And perfect. I’m just not used to all of it…to your generosity, to you filling all my dreams like this. I’m not used to trusting it, to trusting any kind of happiness, so I don’t. Instead, I turn on the soundtrack of suspicion, unwilling to trust this can all be real. That this is really happening.”
He blinked hard. For a moment, the clarity in his gaze was replaced by a dark gray haze, as if only half his thoughts were still here and half had jumped to the moon. “I know.” His words were so full of commiseration, I felt it to the marrow of my bones.
I pressed my hand a little tighter to his skin. “You do know, don’t you?” When he reacted simply by kissing me softly, I went on, “I love the surprise. I really do. Thank you, Mr. Stone. Now I just need to pinch myself to assure I’m not dreaming.”
“Hey.” He threw a mock glower. “If there’s any pinching going on around here, I’ll be the one doing it.” After a quick kiss to my nose, he grinned again, obviously pleased with himself for blowing my mind…again. “Now, no more crying, Miss Montgomery. Let’s get you some food.”
“Okay.” I giggled and sniffed. “That sounds really good. Maybe a big salad—and an even bigger glass of wine.”
“Fuck.” He rolled his eyes. “No way. You’re getting a burger. And some goddamn fries. And then the wine.” He finished the look by letting his stare darken back to sensual velvet. “And then me.”
As usual, the man knew exactly what it took to make my world perfect.
And for once, I chose to believe that it wouldn’t all disappear tomorrow.
# # #
Coming March 3, 2015 – from
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author
SHAYLA BLACK
His To Take
Racing against time, NSA Agent Joaquin Muñoz is searching for a little girl who vanished twenty years ago with a dangerous secret. Since Bailey Benson fits the profile, Joaquin abducts the beauty and whisks her to the safety of Club Dominion—before anyone can silence her for good.
At first, Bailey is terrified, but when her captor demands information about her past, she’s stunned. Are her horrific visions actually distant memories that imperil all she holds dear? Confined with Joaquin in a place that echoes with moans and breathes passion, he proves himself a fierce protector, as well as a sensual Master who’s slowly crawling deeper in her head…and heart. But giving in to him might be the most delicious danger of all.
Because Bailey soon learns that her past isn’t the only mystery. Joaquin has a secret of his own—a burning vengeance in his soul. The exposed truth leaves her vulnerable and wondering how much about the man she loves is a lie, how much more is at risk than her heart. And if she can trust him to protect her long enough to learn the truth.
Sneak Preview Excerpt
“…What about you? You’re with another government agency, so you’re here to . . . what? Be my lover? Does Uncle Sam think you need to crawl between my legs in order to watch over me?”
Joaquin ground his jaw. She was hitting low, and the logical part of him understood that she was hurt, so she was lashing out at the messenger because she didn’t have anyone else. But that didn’t stop his temper from getting swept up in her cyclone of emotion. “I’m not here on anyone’s orders. In fact, I’ll probably be fired for pursuing this case because Tatiana Aslanov isn’t on my boss’s radar. When it became obvious the agency intended to do nothing, I couldn’t leave you to that horrific death. So here we are. But let me clue you in, baby girl. Uncle Sam doesn’t tell me who to fuck. I can’t fake an erection, even for the sake of God and country. That kiss we almost shared? That was me wanting you because just being in the same room with you makes me want to strip off everything you’re wearing and impale you with every inch I’ve got.”
When he eased closer to Bailey, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin. “Don’t come near me.”
That defiance made him wish again that he was a spanking kind of guy. He’d really like to melt that starch in her spine. If she wasn’t going to let him comfort her, he’d be more than happy to adjust her attitude with a good smack or ten on her ass, then follow it up with a thorough fucking. A nice handful of orgasms would do them both a world of good.
“I am so done with people lying to me,” she ground out.
That pissed him off. “You think I’m lying to you? About which part? Your parents being agents? That I’m sorry? Or that my cock is aching to fill your sweet little pussy until you dig your nails into my back and wail out in pleasure?”
Her face turned pink. “You’re not sorry about any of this. I’m also not buying your sudden desire bullshit.”
“I will be more than happy to prove you wrong right now.” He reached for the button of his jeans. “I’m ready if you are.”
In some distant corner of his brain, Joaquin realized that combating her hurt with challenge wasn’t going over well. On the other hand, something about arguing with her while he’d been imagining her underneath him hadn’t just gotten his blood flowing, but boiling. If fucking her would, in any way, prove
to her that he wasn’t lying, he was beyond down with getting busy. If she let him, he’d give it to her hard and wicked—and repeatedly.
“No!” She managed to look indignant, but her cheeks had gone rosy. The pulse at her neck was pounding. Her nipples poked at her borrowed shirt angrily.
He put his hands on his hips. If she looked down, she’d see his straining zipper. “Do you still think I’m lying?”
“I’m done with this conversation.”
“If you’re telling yourself you don’t want me at all, then you’re the one lying.”
“Pfft. You might know facts about me on paper, but you don’t know me.”
“So if I touched your pussy right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”
He’d always liked a good challenge. It was probably one of the reasons he loved his job. But facing off with her this way made his blood sing, too.
“No.” She shook her head a bit too emphatically. “And you’re not touching me to find out. Leave me alone.”
“You’re worried that I’d find you juicy. You’re afraid to admit that I turn you on.” He stalked closer, his footfalls heavy, his eyes narrowing in on her.
“Stay back,” she warned—but her eyes said something else entirely.
“Tell me you’re not attracted to me.” He reached out, his strike fast as a snake’s, and gripped her arms. He dragged her closer, fitting her lithe little body against him and holding in a groan when she brushed over his cock. “Tell me you want me to stop. Remember, you don’t like liars. I don’t, either.”
She didn’t say a word, struggled a bit for show. Mostly, she parted her lips and panted. Her cheeks heated an even deeper rose. Her chest heaved. Never once did she look away from him. “I’m involved with someone else.”
“If you think whatever you’ve got going with Blane is going to stop me . . .” He didn’t bother to finish his sentence; he just laughed.
“So you’re not listening to me say ‘no’? You’re not respecting my feelings for another guy?”
“Let’s just say I’m proving my sincerity to you.” He tightened his grip. When she gasped and her stare fell to his lips, triumph raced through his veins. “I’m also testing you. That pretty mouth of yours might lie to me, but your kisses won’t.”
Joaquin didn’t give her a chance to protest again. Normally, he would have. Women 101 was never to proceed without express consent, but this thick air of tension electrifying his blood and seizing his lungs was something entirely new and intoxicating. Their fight seemed to be helping Bailey forget her shock and sadness, not to mention the fact that it revved her, too. She wasn’t immune to him—not by a long shot. Thank fuck.
Thrusting a fist in her hair, he pinned her in place and lowered his head.
# # #
Coming August 18, 2014 – from
JENNA JACOB
Saving My Submission
The Doms Of Genesis – Book Four
Sneak Preview Excerpt
Joshua Lars stroked my lips with his own as if he’d known them forever. His capable hands—those of a master sculptor—swept over my shoulders and shoved my red Alexander McQueen dress past my hips and over my feet to puddle on the floor. Languid and thorough, he made me feel as if I were a masterpiece he sought to mold.
As his intoxicating scent swam in my head, he unfastened my bra and tossed it to the floor. I hadn’t recovered before he raked his tongue up the column of my neck. I began to tremble in erotic anticipation.
From the time he’d pressed me up against the door of his studio and kissed me senseless until the breathless moment we’d begun tangling in the sheets, Joshua’s eye had darkened, now a piercing shade of jade. His body, all sinewy and taut, hovered over mine. The muscles of his biceps bunched, and I quivered at the feel of his steely erection that lay hot and hard against my belly.
Wheat colored hair fell over his brow. When I reached up to brush the strands away, he clasped his hands around my wrists and raised them over my head, pinning me to the mattress. As he did, a sexy smile tugged the corners of his lips. My belly clenched.
His Dominant gesture made me catch my breath. The need to submit surged through my veins. I hadn’t been beneath the command of a Master for years. Still I could no longer accept this.
I struggled against his hold and tried to break free of his grip, but he shook his head. “Easy, Mellie. I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was like aged brandy, soothing my anxiety. “Tell me, little one, are you what I hope you are?”
His actions, his ragged whisper, put a chink in my armor and made the burning pulse of surrender rise inside me. “What exactly is it that you hope I am?”
“Don’t play shy. You know what I’m talking about. When you stared at the sub statue earlier, the glow on your face aroused my suspicions. But when you started to cry… well, it was as if you’d opened a window to your soul. I keep catching glimpses of it, but it’s elusive; like smoke. There one second - gone the next. It’s almost as if you’re trying to deny your feelings.”
What. The. Fuck? Out of all the men I’d been with not a single one had ever sensed the sleeping submissive within. Yet, ninety minutes with the renowned Joshua Lars, and his Dominant radar saw straight through my painstakingly constructed walls.
His lips brushed mine in a feathery-light kiss. “I want to taste your surrender.”
His words unnerved me. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied. “Stop talking and fuck me.”
To throw him off my submissive scent, I arched my hips and rubbed my pussy against his cock, aiming to coax him into a down-and-dirty, dazzling, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am night. I could handle straight sex. Diving into BDSM waters—especially with Joshua—would be like jumping off a cruise ship without a life vest. I didn’t need or want the mind fuck.
Lifting my head, I tried to force him to kiss me. He reared back with an arch of his brows. Disapproval lined his face. I’d never have the upper hand with the man, and it should have scared the hell out of me. Instead it turned me on even more.
This is going to be tricky.
“Ah ah ah, play nice, pet. I won’t allow you to top me. We’re going to take the path that’s got you so skittish because it’s the same one that has you wet and ready.” He bent and nuzzled his lips close to my ear. “I can smell your cunt, little one. It makes my mouth water.”
I didn’t know what to say. He pinned me with a dissecting stare. His breath fluttered over my lips. Unable to look at him without wanting to melt in surrender, I cast my gaze to the golden patch of hair between his flat nipples. I couldn’t risk him seeing those submissive parts of me I’d hidden.
“Yes, that’s the one. My, my, what a gorgeous little thing you are.”
His low, raspy praise sent lashes of fire dancing up my spine. It felt as if the devil himself had licked me with his scorching tongue.
Cinching both of my wrists into one hand, he skimmed his other down my bod, pausing to roll each of my beaded nipples between his fingers and thumb. Shards of electricity shot south and gathered behind my already throbbing clit.
“Your safe word is fantasy, because that’s what you are—a fantasy that’s been plucked straight from my dreams.”
Lord help me. The man had seduction down to a science. Combined with his potent Dominance, I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or run for my life.
Desperate to keep this encounter as vanilla as possible, I scoffed. “What the hell is a safe word?”
Joshua narrowed his eyes. “Don’t lie to me, pet. Lie to yourself all you want, but I’ve already seen everything I need to.”
He bent and pressed his lips to mine with a kiss so explosive it stole my breath. Surrender, like a long-lost blanket enveloped me, and for one brief moment I didn’t care if he saw through my mask or not. The need to please him cracked my walls, and the stroke of his demanding tongue had my submission seeping through.
# # #
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USA Today bestselling author Angel Payne began writing passionately in high school, and moved on to pen her way to departmental honors for English at Chapman University in Southern California, as well as popular historical romances in the 1990’s under a different pseudonym. Her kaleidoscope of a past includes gigs as a fashion ramp model, music industry production assistant, nightclub disc jockey, and over twenty years in the meeting planning and hospitality industries. Her passions include pop culture, alt rock, super heroes, shoes, coffee, and enjoying an active life in the outdoors with family and friends. She still lives in Southern California with her gorgeous daughter and stud-man husband.
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