Trust Me: The Lassiter Group, Book 1

by Sydney Somers

Lucas slipped a hand around her nape, drawing her forward. His mouth slid over hers with a painstaking slowness that left her aching inside. If she had known it would only take one devastating kiss to remind her of how intense their connection was, she wouldn’t have tried to keep him away.

  Drawing back slowly, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “So Cujo and I were thinking we might stay with you for a while.”

  “Just like that, huh?”

  “Well, not exactly. There is the matter to settle of who gets the right side of the bed.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck, thinking of the cat food dish and full fridge. “Exactly how long have you and Cujo been staying here?”

  His gave her a slow, sexy grin. “Long enough to snoop through your underwear drawer.”

  “I think that’s a serious invasion of privacy.”

  Lucas pressed his mouth to the sensitive spot just above her collarbone. “I like to think of it as taking stock.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  He nipped the unbandaged side of her neck before gently tugging her skin between his lips. “As a matter of fact,” he murmured against her, “I seem to recall seeing a sassy red lingerie set in there I’d like you to model for me real soon.”

  “I’ll think about it.” This time she brought his mouth back to hers, savoring the tenderness and hunger she felt radiating from him, letting it consume her bit by bit until she whimpered softly against his lips.

  Lucas groaned. “Do you have to do that?”

  She slowly sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. “Do what?”

  “Sound like I’m already buried so deep inside you, you can’t think of anything but how good it feels.”

  She smiled against his mouth. “Maybe that’s what I am thinking about.” And she damn well was now that he’d put the image in her head.

  Without warning, he swung her into his arms and headed for the bedroom. “So how does a real vacation sound to you?”

  She nuzzled his neck, grinning against his skin when he practically growled. “Got any place special in mind?”

  “Well there was this little bed and breakfast across the border I heard about.”

  She laughed, tightening her grip as he set her on the bed and followed her down.

  Heavy and warm, his body pressed her into the mattress. “Any other ground rules we need to establish?”

  “Just one for now. No more borrowing my clothes.”

  He did a pretty convincing job of looking hurt. “But pink is so my color, girlfriend.”

  She laughed, but before she let him sweep her into another drugging kiss—and god he was good at that—she put her hand over his heart and suddenly struggled to meet his gaze.

  “I freaked out in the hospital. I got scared and let what happened with Glen make me doubt myself and my instincts.”

  Cupping her cheek, he drew the pad of this thumb across her cheek. “And what are your instincts telling you now?”

  “That I should hold on tight and never let go.”

  “Sounds like a plan to me.” He teased his lips softly over hers, but each time she rose up to deepen the kiss, he held back. “Tell me you trust me, Max.”

  She swallowed past the sudden tightness in her throat, her emotions running high. “I trust you.”

  Lucas nodded, his tongue finally parting the seam of her mouth and pushing inside. He kissed her until she couldn’t breathe without taking him in. “Now tell me you love me.”

  “Your ego needs another little boost, huh?”

  He grinned. “I just want to make sure the really hot, really incredible sex we’re about to have won’t be based purely on adrenaline.”

  She laughed and trapped his face in her palms, willing his intense gaze to see deep inside her and know that what she felt for him went far beyond adrenaline, far beyond anything she’d felt before. “I love you.”

  His serious expression slowly gave way to a playful, heart-stopping smile. “You sure about that?”

  She nodded, letting him drag her heart-first in a deep, wild kiss that claimed her body and soul. “Trust me.”

  About the Author

  A born and raised Maritimer, Sydney Somers fell in love with writing at the age of eight. Since finishing her first book in 2002, Sydney has written over twenty-five romances—one of which will forever remain hidden under her bed.

  When she’s not tracking down remote controls, chasing after three very energetic children or exterminating rogue dust bunnies, Sydney can be found curled up reading or working on her next book. She loves to hear from readers and invites them to e-mail her (sydney@sydneysomers.com) or drop by her website (www.sydneysomers.com) any time.

  Look for these titles by Sydney Somers

  Now Available:

  Pendragon Gargoyles

  Primal Hunger

  Primal Attraction

  Primal Pleasure

  Shadow Destroyers

  Unbreakable

  Stripped Away

  Storm Warning

  Dark Obsession

  Spellbound

  Say You’re Mine

  Don’t Let Go

  Whatever It Takes

  Enslaved

  Waitin’ on a Hero

  Call Me Cupid

  Talons: Caged Desire

  Coming Soon:

  Must Be Magic

  He will have his revenge—one wicked seduction at a time.

  Primal Pleasure

  © 2010 Sydney Somers

  Pendragon Gargoyles, Book 3

  Emma is used to getting dragged into her twin sister’s magical messes, but this time her predicament is more than a minor annoyance. She’s chained to a cat shifter that her sister encased in a curse of stone. Worse, the unfortunate gargoyle’s waking up. And her sister’s not there to take the heat.

  After a century suspended in stone, Cian would do anything to get his hands on the sorceress who put him there. Strangely, his dreams of revenge turn into an animal hunger to put his hands all over her—in every delightfully wicked way imaginable.

  Never as talented as her sister, Emma doesn’t trust her own magic. But for now she must let Cian believe she’s the culprit in order to strike a bargain: to permanently lift the curse in exchange for his tracking skills to find her missing sister. The longer she is near him, though, the closer she comes to surrendering much more than her body to the brutal warrior.

  As their attraction catches fire, Emma dreads what could happen when he learns the truth. If he will sacrifice her to break the spell…or fight for a love that goes beyond animal instinct.

  Warning: This book contains adult language, violence, bone-melting explicit sex and a stubborn alpha male who likes his revenge served hot, wild and strong enough to bring him to his knees.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Primal Pleasure:

  “You would risk your family to keep me?”

  For all the practice she had at masking her fear—thanks to Elena—the gargoyle’s steel-edged conviction made it hard not to take him seriously. As worried as she’d been over her fate, some small part of her had dared to hope he might willingly release her.

  The look on his face, the unwavering blue depths locked on her, told her he meant every word. He really had no intention of releasing her.

  “My family can handle themselves.”

  She swallowed past the momentary panic clawing at her throat. “So revenge is all that matters to you?” She certainly hadn’t gotten that vibe when she’d touched his belongings and experienced those memories.

  “Not all that matters, no.” He dragged his shirt over his head and tossed it behind him.

  “Whoa there, Chippendale. Let’s keep this PG rated.”

  Unfazed, he moved his hand to the fly of his jeans, drawing her attention down his toned abs—and how had she missed those on the roof?

  “Is there a problem?”

  Hell yeah, there was a problem. She just couldn’t remember exactly what it was as the button gaped open just a fraction
.

  Focusing, she went with the obvious. “You just took your shirt off.”

  “And yours is next.”

  “In your dreams, gargoyle.” She slipped around him, finding it easier to keep a clear head when she wasn’t pinned between him and the wall.

  He tugged his zipper down and circled her, pausing behind her long enough to whisper, “In my dreams the only thing covering your body is me.”

  Her stomach grew hot at the image that unfolded in her mind. She shook her head to erase it as much to discourage him—as if that were possible—and preferably before the jeans riding low on his hips slid any lower.

  Avalon help her, there was no way he was wearing any underwear beneath them.

  She needed to stay focused on finding a way out of this mess, preferably with her clothing intact.

  Given the way the corners of his mouth tipped up, as if amused by her white-knuckled grip on her shirt, the odds didn’t seem to be in her favor. That fact alone spurred her retreat.

  Cian tensed like an animal about to take down its prey, but after a few feet, he still hadn’t moved. How was it that he managed to make her feel like she was being stalked when he hadn’t taken a single step in her direction?

  She searched his face, finally understanding the wicked glimmer in his eyes. He was enjoying it. He wanted her to run, wanted to catch her.

  Which only forced her to acknowledge that she wanted to be caught.

  Caught. Kissed. Touched.

  And it was all so damn crazy. She didn’t do one-night stands with men under normal circumstances, let alone with one who was casually eyeing the chain she dragged along the floor like it was part of the trap he couldn’t wait to spring.

  “I am not some sex slave.”

  When he took a step toward her, she wished she hadn’t said a damn thing.

  “You’re right about that,” he drawled innocently, and she scrambled back another step, realizing too late he was herding her toward his bedroom.

  “Slaves,” he continued, “need to be coerced in the beginning. You want it. Want me.”

  A hint of uncertainty echoed beneath all that slick feline arrogance, surprising her. Distracting her. Otherwise she might have noticed how quickly he closed the distance between them, forcing her to tip her head back to meet his gaze. He towered over her five-foot-four frame, but she didn’t find it as intimidating as she should have given the magic-nulling handcuff locked around her wrist.

  Everything about the situation left her at a disadvantage, but she refused to play the submissive female.

  He stared at her throat before finally lifting his hand and tracing the soft hollow, then moving on to her collarbone. The teasing brush of his thumb was at odds with the tension she felt radiating from him.

  “You didn’t deny that you want me.” His hands slid beneath her jacket and over her shoulders.

  “And give you a reason to prove I was lying?”

  He laughed, and the rough sound washed over her. A little dazed by his smile, she was slow to process her jacket sliding down to her arms.

  Her eyes snapped open—when the hell had she closed them?—and she stumbled back. He might have been too distracted when she’d been in the shower to realize how few tracings she had, but risking it a second time was a really bad idea. It wouldn’t take him long to realize the cuff would null any ability to mask her tracings.

  A tug on her wrist pulled her forward. She immediately retreated, stepping inside the dark bedroom at her back.

  Could he see well enough to notice her tracings—or lack thereof—in the dark?

  He stopped in the doorway, the light behind him casting his face in shadows. Maybe she’d been a little premature with the whole not-intimidated thing. She managed another step, and he countered with another tug on the chain until she was forced to meet him halfway.

  “Cian.”

  He stopped, only a foot away now. “Again.” He stepped forward, and her thighs connected with his.

  “I don’t—”

  “My name. Say it again.”

  Her lips parted soundlessly.

  “Please.”

  Inches separated them. “Cian.”

  His palm caressed her jaw, guiding her closer. “Again,” he murmured.

  “Ci—”

  He slanted his mouth across hers.

  Loving him could be an adventure that gets her killed.

  Defy the World Tomatoes

  © 2010 Phoebe Conn

  Darcy MacLeod’s Army brat childhood drives her to sink roots as deep as the plants with which she works. As part owner of a nursery/gift shop in Monarch Bay, she’s well on her way to her dream. Though she’s haunted by the lingering fear that her one chance for true love has come and gone.

  When Griffin Moore asks her to landscape his sumptuous new estate, she’s entranced by the internationally renowned pianist’s air of mystery. Yet as she is inexorably drawn into his bed, her instincts tell her that secrets lurk behind his sophisticated mask.

  With her carelessly styled hair, grubby overalls, and hands that see more dirt than an earthworm, Griffin finds Darcy a refreshing ray of light in his shadowy world. His globe-trotting concert schedule makes him the perfect Interpol informant—and makes a permanent relationship too dangerous to risk.

  Their passion rivals the music of the great classical masters, but even as Darcy dips a toe into Griffin’s extravagant world, darkness reaches out to strike a dangerous chord. And Darcy must fight to keep her second chance at love—and her lover—alive.

  Warning: Contains meddling friends, high adventure, down and dirty sex, and a couple who make beautiful music together—in bed and out.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Defy the World Tomatoes:

  Griffin waited for Darcy in his driveway. “I don’t mean to shock you, but unlike most men, I actually enjoy reading directions. Let’s go on out to the terrace. I’ll read the notes with the diagrams, and you can assemble the kite. It’s shaped like a dragon with a long, notched tail. It’s very colorful. I hope you like it.”

  “It’s your kite,” Darcy reminded him, but when he pulled it out of the package, she couldn’t help but be impressed. “Start reading, I want to see this thing in the air.”

  “First we have to unroll it.”

  “All right, I’ll hold the tip of the tail while you walk backwards, and that ought to do it.”

  “Hey, I thought I was giving the directions here.”

  “Sorry. I’ll keep my mouth shut,” Darcy promised.

  “Well, not all the time, I hope.” Griffin soon had the dragon stretched out across the terrace. He checked the directions again and sorted through the accompanying dowels. “These go in the head and wings. Do you see the slots that hold them?”

  “Slots?” The dragon was red and breathing orange flames. Darcy felt along the sides. “They’ve got to be here somewhere. This is your kite, after all. Why don’t I read the directions while you attach the dowels?”

  “Don’t complicate things. Just get busy.”

  Darcy raised a hand. “Let me see that diagram.”

  Griffin stepped beyond her reach and hid it behind his back. “Come and get it.”

  “No way. You’re the one who wants to build the kite, remember?”

  “An excellent point.” Giving in, Griffin knelt beside her. “Maybe they didn’t sew this one together correctly at the factory.”

  He was mere inches away and studying the kite’s construction rather than tormenting her. His lashes made shadows on his cheeks, and he was quite appealing when he was in a playful mood, but none of it seemed real to her. It was all just a trick, and he probably wouldn’t stop until he’d convinced her that she actually wanted to move Defy the World clear out of town.

  Then she grew curious. “Why do you need a recording studio if you’ve stopped rehearsing?”

  “Later. Here we are, the slots open on the other side. Hand me the first dowel.”

  Darcy slapped it into his hand. �
��Tell me.”

  “Let’s get the kite in the air first.” Griffin slid in the dowels, then attached the string. He stood and shook out the kite, then looked up at the cloudless sky.

  “Is there some trick to getting this thing in the air?” he asked.

  “You’ve never flown a kite?” Darcy stood and moved out of his way.

  “I began playing the piano at five and just looked up a couple of months ago. There’s a whole lot I’ve missed, including the art of kite flying.”

  Darcy didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but she imagined he must have been a very serious little boy indeed. “You need to run while you let out the string, and the wind will carry it aloft for you.”

  Griffin looked around to judge the distance. “If I stay on the terrace, I shouldn’t be in any danger of falling off the bluff.”

  “Go for it,” Darcy encouraged. She watched him cross the terrace in an easy lope and when he turned back into the breeze, the kite bounced upward. “That’s it, just let out the string.”

  Griffin fumbled with the reel, then caught it and laughed when the kite rose steadily into the air. The wind whipped the dragon’s long tail and serrated wings, pushing it higher. “Wow, it looks like a real dragon, doesn’t it?” he shouted.

  “It sure does. Now just move back a little and keep letting out more string.” She raised her hand to shade her eyes, then walked across the terrace to where she could observe Griffin as well as the brightly colored kite.

  She remembered the kids who had played in the high school band as being rather nerdy. Not that she’d been Miss Popularity, but at least she hadn’t always had her nose in a book. With Griffin’s looks, no one would have ever called him a nerd, but it saddened her to think he must have missed out on a lot of the fun of growing up.

  “Is this all there is to it?” he asked.

  “Not really. The wind can shift and send a kite right into the ground, or into a tree. The power lines are buried underground up here, but usually they pose a threat too. Then, if there are others flying kites, your string can become tangled in theirs and send both kites plunging to earth.