by Jodi Redford
Pushing to his feet, he smiled and extended a hand. “Come, I’ll show you the rest of the house.”
After the briefest hesitation, she tucked her hand in his. The kitchen received a cursory walkthrough. She oohed and ahhed over the original Lia Mavrick watercolors and Stellic bronzes scattered between the various guestrooms. Outside the den, she stopped and ran her fingers over the nubby texture of the vessel holding a freeform arrangement of wild grasses.
“Is this a Rucca pod?”
He smiled at the wonderment in her voice. Here he possessed a houseful of priceless art and antiques, and a nut husk thrilled her most. Females were such strange, delightful creatures. “I picked it up during my last trip to Frittona.” Along with a square cut, ten-carat ruby that fetched a handsome finder’s fee.
“I’ve never seen one so big.” She stooped and surveyed the pod. Her skirt lifted, granting him a mouth-watering peep show.
Dash’s jaw dropped. Sweet goddess, she is wearing pink panties.
Mara glanced over her shoulder. He forced his attention from her curvaceous rear, but apparently not fast enough. Giving the hem of her skirt a firm tug, she scrambled to her feet. “Where next?”
Delirious with the need to peel those pink panties off, he led her into the master bedroom. He followed her stare to the massive canopy bed centered in the room.
“Perfect,” she blurted.
Couldn’t have said it better. Fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, he stepped towards her. She swiveled on her heel and strode to the bed, plunking her bag near her feet. Her handcuffs reappeared and circled the nearest pine post with a decisive click.
Dash’s lust exploded. Impatient with his shirt, he yanked. Hard. The buttons popped free and bounced along the wood floor with a plink-plink-plink. Mara turned, her wide-eyed stare tracking the rolling path of the buttons.
Dropping his ripped shirt, he advanced, kicking off his dress shoes before unbuttoning his trousers with shaking fingers. He was too far gone, too primed, to take things slow. Three weeks without sex—what the hell had he been thinking?
“Dash?”
The uncertainty wobbling her voice knifed through his single-minded focus…slightly. He forced a strained grin. “Perhaps you’d best remove your own clothing.”
She blinked before releasing a slow breath. “Okay.”
Her hand snaked towards the miniskirt’s waistband. The sex-starved beast in him snapped its leash. Plowing his hands through Mara’s hair, he claimed her mouth in a fierce, hungry kiss.
The taste of her inflamed his senses. He untangled one hand from her hair and cupped her breast, growling in frustration when his fingers met leather rather than soft skin. She gasped and tumbled sideways, taking him with her. They knocked into the post, rattling the handcuffs. Before he regained his balance, she grabbed his wrist and secured it inside the dangling cuff. Not the way he’d expected things to roll, but it might prove interesting.
Leaving him slumped on the bed, she ducked to the floor. He watched her wiggling rear end and groaned. “Sher ’tian, you’re killing me.”
She fumbled through her bag before returning to him. The hem of her miniskirt rasped against his thighs and he reached for her with his free hand. Ignoring him, she climbed onto the bed and straddled his lap. Lust hazed his vision. He lowered his head towards her breasts, fully intent on ripping her bustier open with his teeth if need be.
Cold metal locked around his neck with an ominous clank. The sound—along with the chill biting into his flesh—managed to edge past the fog clouding his brain. Disoriented, he glanced down. Purple lights flashed across the base of the bizarre collar encircling his neck.
Mara pushed off his lap and he frowned up at her.
“What is this?”
A strange expression crossed her face—one bordering on pity. He didn’t like it at all. “Mara?”
“I’m sorry…truly. Please, just don’t make any sudden—”
Agitated, he lurched at her. An electrical shock zinged his neck. “Son of a bitch,” he roared, jerking back.
Mara winced before finishing her sentence. “—movements.”
A prehensile tail has its advantages…
Satin Spar
© 2009 Kim Knox
Scar’s marbled skin and stunted tail aren’t all that make her stand out. Her Caraniae DNA has a strange effect on the male of the species, which makes her career as a pilot perfect. The less interaction she has with people—with men—the better. She won’t risk her wayward pheromones bonding her forever to one man.
Then there’s her boss’s new bodyguard, Anthony Tyler. The pure-human is tight-lipped about his sketchy past. He also seems determined to work her prehensile tail off.
Once imprisoned and drummed out of the Corps for conduct unbecoming, Tyler is intrigued with his ship’s unheard-of, human-Caraniae hybrid. He spent his career fighting her kind, but when a message from home throws Scar into a tailspin, he finds himself drawn to help her in any way he can. Even if it means risking life and limb to help her sweat out her anger.
Their sparring session turns into something else. Something wildly sexual. Something so wrong as to be suicidal—if Scar’s father discovers she’s bonded with anyone other than the husband he’s forcing her to marry…
Warning: This book contains violence, nekkid wrestling and hot, alien-human naughtiness.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Satin Spar:
“What do you want me to do?”
She smiled that wicked Caraniae smile. Her strong thighs gripped him and before he knew exactly how, he was on his back. Surprise had worked his grip free and now she pinned his arms to the cool sand. “You disobeyed orders. How?”
“That’s not what I thought you’d ask.”
She smirked. “Satisfy my curiosity first.”
Time for the sanitised truth, the woman was half-Caraniae after all. “There was a suspected nest. We went in.” The Corps had ordered an atrocity at Vistern Ridge. With the end of the war, they’d buried that order and his career. Tyler pushed back the memories; they were a part of his old life. “I refused to authorise the clean up.”
“And that’s a euphemism for…?”
The muscles in his jaw tightened. “It’s not open for discussion.”
Scar leaned forward, pressing deliciously along his erection. Her mouth hovered over his, her lips almost touching. Just a simple tilt of his head would— “Want to discuss it now?”
“Why are you pressing this?”
“What? This?” And she shifted her hips in a slow slide that had him involuntarily thrusting up to meet her. “So…why are you here, Tyler?”
She was still asking him questions. Why the hell was she still asking him questions? “Scar…?”
“Rochester told you who my stepfather is, didn’t he?”
Tyler held down a curse. Sparring with her would’ve seemed natural. Throwing her on her back and offering her whatever she wanted…yes, didn’t he look obvious now? “He mentioned it in passing.”
Scar’s expression was unreadable as she sat up. The friction made him wince. His erection mocked him. “And you just thought you’d drop by, say hello, curry favour?” She wiggled and he sucked in a breath. “Offer me this?”
“That wasn’t planned.”
Her mouth twisted and there was a hardness to her eyes, hiding…what? He wanted to label it nerves, but that would be crazy.
“An unexpected bonus?”
“Scar…”
She leapt up with an unnatural agility and offered her hand. “Let me try not to kill you.”
Tyler grabbed her hand and she pulled him effortlessly to his feet. “Suddenly this is not a good idea.”
“Really?”
Tyler shucked off his jacket and threw it beyond the edge of the arena. His fingers moved to his shirt and stopped. What was he doing? A fight felt more real, more immediate to him when air brushed his skin. But now, that would be so very wrong. He kicked off his boots and pul
led at his socks instead. His toes curled into the warming sand.
“Finished?” Scar lifted an eyebrow. “Can we fight now?”
“Impatient for me to beat you?”
She burst forward, but he stopped her attempt to grab him, blocking her with a palm-strike. Dropping, she tried to strike him. Another block. She swung around and struck out again. She was quick, fast and strong. It was fun to play with her—
“You’re grinning. Think this is funny?” She growled and his balls tightened.
He staggered at the kick to his shin. She leapt, crashing him to the sand, and ripped at his shirt. She nipped at his neck with her teeth and Tyler’s vision blurred. Blood raced south. Her scent burned through him and he tugged at her undershirt, the thin cotton tearing across her back.
“Ah, so that’s what you want to play.” Her lips brushed against his throat, searing the words into his skin.
His hands slid down her spine and found her tail curling tight around his right wrist. It squeezed hard. “Scar…” He couldn’t help the low, warning snarl. “This is not playing fair.”
She lifted her head and grinned at him. “I want to fight, not fuck, Tyler.”
She whipped free of him, standing back, her body loose and ready to attack him again. Tyler rolled to his feet and tried to keep his eyes off her small, firm and now very exposed breasts. Fire flickered under his skin and the only thought that consumed him was his need to get her shorts off. Some insane voice in the back of his head screamed that she had to be naked. And so should he.
“Shall we make this interesting?”
Her green eyes narrowed as she edged around him, matching his movements. “Interesting, how?”
“You take a fall, you lose clothing.”
Scar stared down at her body. She looked back up at him from under her lashes, her eyebrow lifting. “I only have these. You have trousers and underwear. What say we make it even first?”
Tyler paused, to give the illusion that he was reluctant. But that small voice wanted his fingers to fly. His mouth pursed. “Fine.” And his trousers pooled at his feet. He threw them and both of their shredded shirts out of the arena. “Happy?”
Her smile was wicked. “When you’re on your back, I will be.”
His cock twitched. Her scent drifted above the sterile odour of the filtered air and the dryness of the sand, something sweet and intoxicating. His chest tightened. He wanted her—
Scar’s foot connected with his knee and he grunted. Muscle instinct took over and he grabbed her arm, yanking her forward and kicking out her legs. She thumped into the sand, face down. Tyler straddled her thighs. “One for me, I think,” he murmured. His fingers slid down her spine, easing over her ribs until he reached her hips. He hooked a finger into her shorts and twanged them.
“Okay, you got this one,” she muttered and he was certain there was a curse mixed in under her breath. “But after I get you…” her head turned and bright green eyes speared him, “…and I will, then the one who beats the other into submission is the winner. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” Tyler murmured. “Now I take my reward.”
Trust will either destroy them…or save them both.
The Promise of Kierna’Rhoan
© 2008 Isabo Kelly
Kira Farseaker led a sheltered, privileged life—until her discovery of a cruel secret plunged her into an underworld of danger. Now she vows to use her money and position to save an alien species, the Shifters, from government-sanctioned extermination.
A secret planet, a Farseaker legacy known as Kierna’Rhoan, could offer at least some of the evolving Shifters the sanctuary they need to survive. To get them there safely will be the most dangerous mission Kira has ever attempted—a task that isn’t made any easier by her attraction to the dark, hungry eyes of a suspected spy.
Officer David Cario’s assignment to a Shifter extermination squadron is just the break he needs to learn why his sister was executed. Earning the trust of his commander’s ex-wife, suspected terrorist Kira Farseaker, is easier said than done, especially when crossing into her world brings him face to face with truths he isn’t prepared to discover.
Swept up in a growing whirlpool of corruption and treachery, Kira and David find themselves locked in a struggle between duty and a growing passion that could destroy everything they’ve worked for. Or save both their lives.
Enjoy the following excerpt for The Promise of Kierna’Rhoan:
Kira stood staring at the door that led to David, trying to settle herself for another confrontation. The fights and accusations were wearing on her. The exhaustion that had swept her in the lift sat heavily on her shoulders. And dread mixed with a tingling of anticipation at seeing the Guard. Just the thought of his kiss made her lips burn. Knowing she’d remember the feel of his touch all too vividly in his presence, Kira wasn’t sure she’d be able to manage this meeting. But it had to be done.
Pushing her hair behind her ears, she left Command. Raf stopped her in the corridor just outside the air-sealed entrance to the fan rooms.
“Kira,” he began, then fell silent and stared at the floor for a few minutes, his brow deeply creased with unspoken thoughts. After a time, his brow softened and he grinned. “You’re something else, Farseaker. And for what it’s worth, I think liars are the best kinds of people.”
A laugh burst from Kira so suddenly it surprised her and made her laugh harder. “Glad to know it,” she said when she could talk again. “Thanks.” She tapped his arm gently. “Now, get off your ass and make sure you’re ready to pilot us off this rock.”
He smiled, winked and squeezed her shoulder before walking away. Kira shook her head, baffled by the scene but thankful for the release of tension. When she stepped through the air seal into the smoking rooms, she was grinning.
David leaned against a wall, taking a deep drag on his cigarette. He’d seen Kira and Raf’s brief exchange—the air seal was transparent—but he hadn’t been able to hear them. It didn’t matter. Seeing was enough to make his blood boil. Her grin didn’t help his state of mind any.
He took another deep pull on the cigarette, waiting for her to notice him. When she did, her step faltered. She slowed, moving toward him with a wary gaze.
“I think there are a few things you’d better explain to me,” she said.
Her hard tone made him bristle. “I was going to say the same thing.” He puffed at the cigarette again, the glowing tip almost to his fingers. He dropped it to the floor, smashed it beneath his boot heel and lit another.
“Me first,” Kira said, ignoring his glare. “What was all that about Ennoren killing Raf if he thought he was my lover?”
“A fact,” David answered with a shrug. “The commander would kill him for the simple fact that he was having an affair with you.”
Her brow creased. “I doubt that. He might kill Raf, but not because I was having an affair with him.” She stopped, her gaze unfocused and turned inward, then quietly said, “Unless he thought it would hurt me. Then he might kill him.”
“Would it?”
“What?”
She snapped her gaze back to his face, and David felt the strength of her golden eyes in his every cell. “Would it hurt you if Raf were killed?”
She dismissed the comment with a wave of her hand. “It always hurts me when someone I know gets killed.”
“But would Tygran’s death hurt you especially?”
She puffed out an impatient breath and paced away. David could see the conversation wasn’t going the way she wanted it to. He didn’t care. He needed these answers.
“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, David,” she said. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. I want to know why you didn’t want Ennoren to think you were here last night. You tell me I’m keeping you a prisoner—”
“You are.”
“But you warn me before I go to talk with your commander,” she continued over his interruption, “so that I’ll make a specific effort not to mention
you.” She stopped and turned to face him. “Why? I could have slipped. I could have given away that I knew where you were. He’d have a warrant to search the mansion within minutes if he thought I was keeping you here. Why would you give me a warning you must have known would put me on guard?”
“Why would I want him to know I’m here?” David countered, throwing his half-finished cigarette to the ground and stalking closer to her. “You said you’d release me within the week. Why would I want Ennoren, of all people, to find me here when I know he’d kill me on sight?”
The statement made her gasp. “What…?”
He got in her face. “I told you already. I don’t want him to think you’ve slept with me. He’d kill me for that as easily as he’d kill Raf for it.”
“First, why would he assume I’d sleep with you just because you were here?”
“After our meeting at the blockade, he has every reason to suspect that you wanted more from me than conversation.”
“Oh! You arrogant son of a bitch,” she nearly shouted in indignation.
David grabbed her chin, none too gently, and lifted her face. “Don’t dare deny your attraction to me, Kira. There were two of us involved in that kiss in the canteen.”
She jerked her head out of his grip and stalked off. “You’re as delusional as Ennoren.”
She stopped abruptly and David, following close behind her, almost knocked her over. He grabbed her shoulders to balance her, but as soon as she steadied herself, she wrenched away from his touch.
“None of this has anything to do with anything,” she spat. “Whether I’m attracted to you or not, whether Raf is my lover or not, has nothing to do with anything. I have less than three days now, and I don’t have time for this pettiness. You don’t want Ennoren to find you here? Fine! He won’t. I’ve got—”
David grabbed her shoulders again and hauled her close. “Is he?”
“What?” she demanded.
“Is Raf Tygran your lover?”