Friday, July 25, 2014
My newest book BUSINESS OR PLEASURE is now available for early download at Totally Bound: https://www.totallybound.com/business-or-pleasure#excerpt
Of course it will be available at Amazon, ARe, and the usual booksellers as of August 22nd.
But you don’t have to wait. You can have instant gratification and read it TODAY!
Business or Pleasure
Tommy Boudreaux is extremely attracted to Guy Rogers even though he’s a passionate vegetarian and animal rights activist and Tommy’s family owns the most popular barbecue joint in town.
Guy Rogers is extremely attracted to his new realtor, Tom Boudreaux. As a passionate vegetarian and animal rights activist, he’s ecstatic that Tom is a kindred soul. He could never be with a carnivore. Unfortunately, Tommy isn’t really a vegetarian or an animal rights activist. He never said he was, either, he just didn’t eat meat when he was with Guy. And maybe he emptied his house of all meat and dairy products before inviting Guy over. In fact, Tommy’s family owns the most popular barbecue restaurant in town and, if his family has their way, he’ll manage the new location.
When Guy finds out that Tommy eats meat and his family owns a restaurant that’s a monument to eating meat, he’s livid and doesn’t know if he wants anything else to do with Tommy.
But then Guy’s life gets crazy—his dad’s paranoia blossoms into violent dementia, Guy gets arrested for picketing a doggy mill then he winds up in even more legal trouble. When Tommy sticks by him through all his problems and does everything he can to help him, Guy wonders if he’s been too militant and narrow-minded. Perhaps he can learn to live with people who have opposite views.
Ready to die to protect the poor, abused animals being murdered at this slaughter house daily, Guy Rogers held his picket sign high and proud. He raised his voice and chanted with his animal rights activist group, “This little piggy won’t go to market.”
The business’ owners shouted at them to leave. Would-be customers growled at them and tried to cross the line. But every time someone tried, Guy got in their face, growled and bared his teeth. “What gives you the right to slaughter innocents?”
A man wearing a baseball cap and chewing on a piece of straw stomped up to him and thrust an open Bible into his face. With exaggerated emphasis he stabbed his finger at a passage. “Read the Bible. God gave us animals to eat. Just look at Deuteronomy. It says ‘Every moving thing that lives shall be food for you. And as I gave you the green plants, I give you everything’.”
He looked pointedly at the man’s protruding belly under his faded plaid flannel shirt. “I know He told you not to be a glutton, either. Get out of my face, man. That verse says ‘every moving thing that lives’. Does that mean you’re gonna start eating your fellow human beings? Huh?”
“Uh, no. It doesn’t mean that! That’s disgusting!” The carnivore tugged his hat lower over his rheumy eyes and scowled.
“What’s disgusting is eating living creatures that can’t defend themselves. I tell you what. You go out and fight a lion barehanded, and if you win, you can eat him. If he wins, he can eat you. Now that’s fair.”
“You’re the pathetic one, eating innocent creatures that can’t speak up for themselves.” Guy puffed up in pride. Vegetarians like him ate well-balanced diets with plenty of protein that never had a face or a mother. He could live with himself just fine.
“Guy! Get back in line before you get yourself arrested.” Jessica, one of his fellow activists, motioned him back, away from a couple of policemen inching toward him. She fancied herself a protective little sister and even looked like it with her fierce bulldog attitude.
Guy grimaced but pulled himself away from the one-on-one conflict. As much as his adrenaline was flowing, and he did want to deck the guy, violence wasn’t the answer.
“You’re so brave letting a little girl tell you what to do.” Mischief danced in the antagonist’s eyes, and he clenched his fists at his sides.
“You’re not worth wasting my breath.” Guy turned to his fellows and commanded, “Lay down in front of the entrances. Don’t let anyone through.”
A policeman rushed up and got in his face. The man’s eyes were mere slits of fire. “Do that and I’m arresting you.”
Backing down wasn’t in Guy’s vocabulary. To make his point he lay spread-eagled on the ground. Daring him, he sneered at the official. “I do what I must. You do what you must.”
The policemen rolled him over roughly and handcuffed him. “You’re coming with us, funny guy.”
Now available at: https://www.totallybound.com/business-or-pleasure#about
Title – Project Lexi Series – The Lexi Series Author – Lisa Survillas Genre – NA/Contemporary Romance Publication Date – June 19, 2014 Publisher – Lisa Survillas Cover Artist – Cover design by Kimberly Knight Photographs for cover - Geanette Trumbull of www.TLCbyG.com
Lexi Crandall’s, world is turned upside down junior year of high school. Her confession tears her family apart and leaves them broken. Looking for escape, she heads out of town for college. Wracked with guilt and shame, she keeps to herself, befriending only her roommate, Paige.
Derek Fressen experiences one tragedy after another. After learning to cope with being raised by a single mom, he and his sister, Tiffany, become closer than ever. When Tiffany escapes Seattle for college, Derek takes the opportunity to leave his past behind as well.
San Francisco State University is where Lexi and Derek find themselves junior year, thrown into the most uncomfortable situation possible, a group project that requires each to open up about their past. Their grade depends upon the ability to prove to the professor through a class presentation that they truly learned about one another.
Painful memories and terrifying tests of courage propel Lexi to learn how to take baby steps in the healing process and give her hope of one day feeling normal. Although he feels he’s pretty well healed from the horrible events of his past, Derek is lonely and longing for a life of more. Will they be able to share enough of their lives with each other to pass this class? How much will Lexi let Derek help her in the process? Are their tragic pasts too much to overcome, or will love be in their future?
BUY & TBR LINKS
I can’t get her to look at me, I think she’s ashamed that she has no experience to go with. When I’m finally begging, she looks up and I can’t help it. She looks so lost, so sad. I know that she just needs the courage, but how will she ever find it if she doesn’t know what the reward is like? So I lean over, I place my hand on her cheek, and my lips on hers. She doesn’t freak out, so I use my tongue to entice her. I run it along her lower lip. I feel her breathing pick up and I’m nervous she’ll push me away, but when she doesn’t I try to coax her lips apart so I can really kiss her. When she opens them, her tongue meets mine and I have to keep repeating to myself, “Slow, slow, slow,” or my body might take over and try to push her past her limits. She’s not ready for more than this.
I don’t let myself linger too long. I would love to kiss her all night, but she needs baby steps. I need to give her that or this won’t work. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself, but I should’ve made sure it was okay first.” I say it knowing that she needed the surprise of it or it would’ve never happened.
Her response takes me by surprise, “Don’t. Be. Sorry.” She is breathing hard and can’t form a sentence. I love it. That means she loved it. When she brings her hand up to touch her lips, I know I can make this better for her. I stop her hand with mine and leaving the other on her cheek, I lean back in for a deeper kiss. She responds immediately. I make this one longer, but not much. This time when I pull back, we are both panting for air.
“Wow.” A simple statement from her confirming that she liked it.
I'm Lisa. I live in sunny southern California with my wonderful husband and two teenage children. Hubbyis a high school PE teacher and is the coach of three different high school sports. With two kids in high school and involved in activities both inside and outside of school, I have a lot to juggle. When home, I lock myself inside the office to write. I've always loved to write, but life always seemed to be too busy. When inspiration finally hit, I made the most of the time hubby and kids were busy and published my first book in February 2014. It's a teen/young adult book and the first in a series. I'm currently working on a New Adult/Contemporary Romance series with the first book due out end of June 2014. Be on the look-out for more.
Project Lexi was an emotionally powerful story that had me in tears. Both lead characters, Lexi and Derek, were forced to open up about their painful pasts and explore them together for a college class project. In the process they helped each other with their healing process, especially Lexi’s.
While Lexi is confused, even scared of the love and intimacy growing between herself and Derek, Derek is surprisingly patient and understanding for one so young.
This is a touching, heart-wrenching story that I thoroughly enjoyed reading. I look forward to reading the next book in the series.
I give this book 4 out of 5 stars. Ashley Ladd
$5.00 amazon gift card e-book keychain postcard – signed bookmark - signedTour Organized By:
Thursday, July 24, 2014
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via the rafflecopter at the end of this post during the tour. Please click on the banner to see the other stops on this tour.
Meet Me In Seattle by Markee Anderson
Madysen Duke has been coerced to participate in a reality show with her teacher friends. But little does she know, her high school flame is also along for the ride, with intentions much different from hers. Even though she's out for the money, he's trying to thwart whatever crime is happening right before their eyes.
Arrow Through The Heart by Stephanie Burkhart
Summer vacation and the Fourth of July brings Ella to New Hampshire while participating in a tennis competition. Logan is an innkeeper's son who bumps into Ella and invites her for an ice cream. Attraction flares and they enjoy spending time together, but each has their own plans for their life. Then disaster strikes Ella. Can a summer attraction truly become a lasting relationship?
Taking Liberty by Gerald Costlow
Liberty "Libby" Bell is a waitress at a roadside diner, trying to hide from an abusive ex-boyfriend who refuses to leave her alone. She strikes up a romance with Roger, a hunky local fireman, and seems to be getting her life back into gear. Then her ex-boyfriend tracks her down.
Will she be forced to leave Roger and run away again, or see the ex- boyfriend and risk a violent confrontation?
And if that isn't enough to handle, suddenly there's a serial killer in their midst.
The Garden by Jory Sherman
Marcy’s Struggle by Larry Hammersley
Marcy Mason is in her final year of graduate school, pursuing a PhD in chemistry. She has brains and looks, but struggles in the romance department. She met Ross Franklin in undergraduate school when she was a senior; he was a freshman and second-string quarterback. Her problem – she was hung up on Leroy Doyle at the time.
Leroy is married and moved away, but Ross, now star quarterback, isn't convinced she’s over Leroy. When Leroy arrives on campus to give a lecture, Marcy must make all the arrangements. After contact with Leroy, Marcy admits to what she’s known all along—she’s over Leroy and wants Ross in her life. Can she convince Ross to look past their different backgrounds and give love a chance?
Summer brings forth fresh vegetables in the garden and with them, the ultimate fight against insects and wild critters to protect those vegetables. Harvey enjoys his garden, especially the corn – watching it grow, providing food for his beloved wife Ruth. Then, something unusual happens in the garden and his corn begins to disappear.
Enjoy an excerpt from Taking Liberty:
Libby turned the key to her little mobile home, realizing this was the first time anyone, man or woman, had been invited inside since moving here a year ago.
"It's not much," she said, waving at the tiny living room and attached kitchen common to all such units. "I can ride my bike to work and back in good weather and being a waitress doesn't give me enough income for anything better."
"I like it," he said, looking around. "Cozy. If I ever move out of that drafty old house I was raised in, I'd love to find something smaller. But then I think about having to pay rent..." He shrugged.
"Grab a seat on the couch," she said, heading for the refrigerator. "I have diet Coke and some orange juice that's not too old. There's milk, but it's past the expiration date, so I wouldn't recommend it."
"Orange juice is fine," he said.
"I can make a pot of coffee. I think I have an old jar of creamer in the cupboard."
"No, no, juice is fine."
She poured the juice, turned, and had to stop for a moment. Seeing him relaxed in her couch, legs stretched out under the coffee table, looked so...natural. Like he was meant to be there. She felt happy being around him. Am I...falling in love?
ABOUT THE AUTHORS: Markee Anderson makes her home in northeast Wisconsin, surrounded by Packer fans, snow, and cheese. Along with her husband, they have three adult children and two Boston terrier babies. She writes under different pen names, all at: www.sweettalebooks.com
Come visit her at: http://markeeanderson.com
Stephanie Burkhart was born in Manchester, New Hampshire. After graduating from Central High, she joined the U.S. Army. She spent eleven years in the military, seven stationed in Germany. She left the Army in 1997 and settled in California. Stephanie has been married for over twenty years and has two boys, Andrew and Joseph. She now works for LAPD as a 9-1-1 Dispatcher.
Come visit her at: http://www.stephanieburkhart.com
Gerald Costlow lives in Michigan and has published several novels and numerous short stories and novellas over the years. He's currently publishing a romantic-supernatural series with Publishing by Rebecca Vickery.
Larry Hammersley is 76 and has been married to Sue for 51 years. He has two children and five grandchildren. Larry enjoys jogging, amateur radio, occasional woodworking, and is active in his church. He's been writing for 39 years.
Come visit his blog at: http://larryhammersley.blogspot.com/
Jory Sherman began his literary career as a poet in San Francisco's famed North Beach in the late 1950s, during the heyday of the Beat Generation. He has been published widely in literary journals. His first book of poetry, So Many Rooms, was published by Galley Sail Press in 1959.
BOOK BUY LINKS:
Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/2014-summer-collection-vtp-anthologies/1119633249?ean=2940045974271
THE AUTHORS WILL BE GIVING AWAY:
The authors will be awarding a $25 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
TITLE – Perdition House Part 1 An Erotic Saga
SERIES – Tales of Perdition
AUTHOR – Bonnie Edwards
GENRE – Paranormal Erotic Romance
PUBLICATION DATE – June 28, 2014
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 91K words
PUBLISHER – Self
COVER ARTIST – Eva Natsumi
When Faye Grantham inherits Perdition House, her family’s secret shame, she expects to sell the property for millions and marry her long time fiancé.
But the spirits who still reside in the mansion have other ideas. Trapped in the bordello, the women who lived and worked there wait to tell their stories to Faye.
The “girls” don’t just hang around waiting. They control Faye’s libido, influence her decisions and drive her into the arms of two very different men.
Liam Watson wears comfort like most men wear cologne. With an interest in adventurous sex, he’s more man than he first seems.
Mark McLeod is a strong, decisive businessman who was not meant to be more than a hot one-night stand. But Mark is in no hurry to end their liaison, and hopes to continue Faye’s lessons in sensuality.
As Faye becomes enthralled with the mansion, she’s embroiled in a life-changing situation that has her re-examining her engagement, her business decisions, and her beliefs about herself.
As the spirits reveal themselves one by one, Faye learns their stories: how they came to Perdition House, why they joined the women there and some of the secrets that only a high-class bordello could hold.
But can decades-old secrets affect Faye’s life today?
BUY & TBR LINKS
Book On Sale for 50% Off During Tour
(Originally $4.99 Get Yours For Only $2.49)
Perdition House Part 1…An Erotic Saga by Bonnie Edwards
On a mission she’d been planning for two weeks and wanting for longer, Faye Grantham took a breath, smoothed her palm up her thigh to hike her dress and crossed the threshold into the darkly lit hotel bar.
Desperation was a harsh mistress and demanded sacrifice, and Faye was desperate. Propelled into the bar by a heat under her skin she could no longer deny, her craving exploded outward, from her skin, her hair, and the ends of her fingertips. She was on fire and it amazed her that no one in the hotel lobby had called 911.
Sex with a stranger. An I don’t want to know your name kind of stranger, that’s what she was here for, and that’s what she was determined to get.
She paused inside the entrance to glance around for a likely candidate. At first she was disappointed. A sparse crowd was sprinkled around the edges of the room. Light came from tabletop candles and subdued ceiling bulbs made to look like the night sky. For a bar called the Stargazer, it made sense.
Couples shared a quiet drink and men spoke into their cell phones while checking their laptops. A woman with shopping bags that sported expensive logos sipped a martini. Her mouth was set grimly, and she downed the drink fast, nodding for the next before the glass was set back on the table. An obviously bad day.
The only men of interest were a group of rowdy suits at a table left of the door. Four men in their early thirties, happy and celebrating.
Her inner heat cranked up to unbearable at the sight of all those delicious-looking men. She kept her gaze forward to hide her interest but had to ease out a breath. She half expected to see fire blaze from her mouth.
Need. She’d never felt such need.
Forcing her legs to take her past the men and toward the bar kept her focused.
An ego-boosting silence hit the table as she strolled by. A whiff of tantalizing male cologne swirled around her head as she moved past. It was a man-spice smell that went straight to every feminine scent receptacle in her head.
Her nostrils flared to catch every molecule.
If she turned her head to look at the men, she’d stop walking, and one last shred of pride wouldn’t let her. She would not stand there to be ogled openly.
Moisture pooled at the image in her mind of four men touching her with their eyes, skimming her arms, her breasts, her legs, taking inventory of all her secret places. All of them wanting to be with her, inside her hot, hot skin.
Suddenly awash in heat, she took a hard breath. Keep moving.
If she wasn’t careful, she’d end up with all of them at once. She’d be flat out, stripped naked on a bed, with four men making her melt, making her wet.
The back of a male hand brushed lovingly down the side of her naked breast. Pure fantasy, but the feeling was exquisite. She closed her eyes so she could enjoy the intensity. The hair on the back of his fingers would excite and entice as he pressed against the soft flesh. Her nipple would bead; the knuckles, large and knobby, would caress and inflame her areola. Another man would kiss her mouth, sucking at her lower lip before sliding his tongue deeply into her yearning, empty mouth. Oh, yes.
She could have two of them suckle her breasts, and one could pleasure her toes. The fourth, oh, the fourth would slide his broad fingers into her so she could ride out an explosive orgasm before he slid his massive cock into her. She squeezed her thighs together, barely able to walk the rest of the way. Melting in the heat of her own fantasy, she finally made it to a bar stool.
She’d never, ever entertained such hot fantasies before. Maybe it was turning thirty last month, or maybe it was finally being engaged after five years. Or, maybe, it was Colin’s talk of her needing a sex therapist.
Whatever was going on, she loved it. She was living a sexual implosion, and she needed to understand why. And fast.
Her bra felt like burlap and scratched against her raised nipples. Sparkles of desire raced from her breasts to her pussy, and she shivered with the yummy feel. In her mind, one of the men soothed the roughened nubs with an expert tongue. She imagined a wet mouth suckling at her as she tilted her head back to offer more. She shivered as the man’s lips trailed up her neck.
Suddenly remembering she was sitting alone on a bar stool waiting to be served, she pulled out of her fantasy and looked down the bar for the bartender. It wouldn’t do to start moaning in the throes of an imagined orgasm.
She’d be hauled out of her seat and sent to a rubber room.
Maybe that’s where she belonged. But before that happened, she was going to get laid. Her nameless lover would be one of those great-smelling men at the table behind her.
One of them would surely read the signs of her arousal. One of them would tap into it, want to exploit it. One of them would want it bad.
And bad was what she needed.
This craving had built for months. At first it had manifested as an unsettled feeling when Great Auntie Mae Grantham had passed away. She’d felt guilty for not going to see her more often.
Then–oh, so slowly–the unsettled feeling grew into an itch she couldn’t scratch. She and Colin had had more sex, but she’d been even less satisfied than usual. All the while the craving grew until it tore and clawed at her, bringing sexual frustration to a pinnacle. She couldn’t fight it any longer.
A sexual implosion was the only name she could give the wild craving. It filled most of her waking moments and all of her sleeping ones. Sexual need crawled under her skin, oozed out her pores, scented her breath and made her carry fresh panties everywhere she went.
Everything she’d done, everything she’d tried had brought her to this moment, to these men. These strangers.
If she didn’t succeed in this mission tonight, her marriage was doomed before it began.
She kept her back to the tableful of men so they could sort it out amongst themselves. In a few minutes, when they saw she was alone, one of them would stroll over, lean against her forearm where it rested on the bar. He’d burn with the fire on her skin. He’d order a drink, see if she shifted away.
When she stayed put, he’d look at her and smile. She’d cross her arms under her breasts and, without flinching, give him an eyeful. She’d chosen this bra for maximum uplift. The top of her areolae peeked over the edges of the lace cups, the rosy flesh obvious from above.
The dress she wore had practically chosen her instead of the other way around. She’d found it in her backroom inventory in a stack of men’s fedoras, folded like a scarf.
Odd that she’d even thought to look there. She shouldn’t have looked for a dress in a pile of hats. When she’d pulled it out and held it against her body, it screamed come fuck me, and she knew it was the one to wear.
She’d checked the tag and found it had been worn by a B actress in a 1957 sex-kitten flick. Not much cachet in the vintage clothing business, but a whole lot of “hot” in the seduce-a-stranger realm.
She smiled and felt her sexual aura shimmer again as she tilted her hips just so toward the men and placed her beaded clutch on the bar top.
Beaming a smile at the bartender, she leaned toward him, her nipples grazing the round, leather, rolled edge of the bar top. Enjoying the pressure, she swished her nipples back and forth to ease herself.
Big mistake. At the faint abrasion, moisture pooled again and slid down her channel to wet her G-string. She crossed and uncrossed her legs to appease her inner ache.
Her focus turned inward at the first sensation of moisture between her legs. The bartender had been wiping up a spill a few feet over but let the cloth he used dangle from his hand as she settled into her seat. Idly she wondered if he could see sparks in her eyes.
She tilted her head, gave her hair a fluff and then raised her arms so her breasts jiggled just for him. He woke from wherever his thoughts had taken him and came over to her. Young, handsome, and randy, he leaned across the bar and took a good look at her cleavage.
“Aren’t you breaking some bartender’s code by staring at my breasts?” But she squeezed them together again to ensure his interest.
He grinned and looked into her eyes. “What can I give you tonight?”
“I don’t know. What do you have that’s juicy and wet? I’m a thirsty girl.”
His eyes flared, and he folded his arms on the bar. Strong forearms, with a sprinkling of hair showing out of the sleeves of his brilliant white shirt.
“You must work out. Your upper arms bulge with muscles. You look very strong.” She trailed a fingernail across the back of his hand, down to the tip of his middle finger.
One of the suits moved in beside her before the bartender could answer. “I’ll have a whiskey and soda. And for the lady?”
He followed the script, and with a look that scorched peered down her scoop-necked bodice. Faye gave him a slow, welcoming smile and crossed her legs again. “I like your cologne. I smelled it when I walked by.”
He caught the movement of her legs and grinned. “I’m glad you like it.” He reversed her seductive movement and traced a fingertip from the pink-painted nail of her index finger across her knuckle and along the vein in her hand to her wrist.
Fire raced along every nerve he danced against. Touch me, touch me. Oh, touch me.
When he stopped the delicate caress, she thought she’d beg for more. She bit her lower lip, wetting it, plumping it, preparing it. He watched her mouth with deep focus.
Their bodies turned toward each other, their heads dipped even closer.
A strong jaw, even teeth, and intelligent eyes made up her first impression. His control of the situation was apparent when he looked at the younger man and cocked an eyebrow. Quick as that, the bartender bowed out of the equation.
Faye had found her man.
Aside from the sexy cologne, he smelled of success and power, and she blinked up at him as if surprised he’d be so bold. His forearm burned along the length of hers on the bar, right on cue.
She swiveled her ass toward the other three men the man had left behind. An appreciative hiss came from one of them.
She imagined the man beside her skimming his hand down her back to cup a cheek and squeeze. She had to blink to dislodge the image.
His eyes were hazel and hot, his hair neatly trimmed, and his hands were the hands of a businessman. Clean, neat nails. She’d already learned his gentle strength when he’d traced her finger and hand.
His lips were hard, though–exactly the way she liked them. She saw them bearing down on her own, demanding she yield her mouth to his. The strength of her fantasies unnerved her. As if they’d come from somewhere outside her own psyche.
Each fantasy was more powerful than the one before until she wondered if she was projecting them onto her forehead for the world to see.
She’d never been so imaginative. Never so hot, never so needy, never so alive.
“I haven’t decided what I want yet,” she said, finally remembering to reply to the stranger’s question. “I can be very picky.”
She cleared her fantasies away with great effort and took stock of him. What she saw fit her requirements: healthy looking, interested, no wedding band and keen intelligence. Yes, he’d do.
“I’m Faye Grantham,” she said, tossing away her anonymous-sex fantasy. Giving her real name came naturally, and she wasn’t an easy liar.
“As in, ‘grant’im his wish?” One side of his hard mouth kicked up.
“If you’d like.”
“Miss, can I get you something?” The bartender interjected all business now.
“Like I said, I’d like something wet, something juicy.” She arched her neck, trailed her fingertips down her throat. “Maybe an icy drink; I like the way they cool me when I’m hot.” Her fingers drew down farther along the line of her cleavage.
There was a long moment of silence from the two men as they watched her fingers trail between her breasts. Her nipples stood out prouder, the areolae hard.
“Do you have something that will cool me off? Something juicy and wet?” She emphasized the t sound, drawing it out only to clip it off at the end.
The gulp the young bartender gave was audible. “A Bellini. You’ll like it, I promise.”
The man at her side–older, and more experienced than the bartender–narrowed his gaze. Then he slid his hand to her back to a spot above the low material of her dress. Her flesh tingled where he touched.
His fingertip drew slow, hypnotic circles on her naked flesh. Her spine straightened in response, lifting her breasts higher. If he didn’t do more than skim a finger along her skin soon, she’d shimmy right out of this bodice.
She looked into his eyes and saw the promise of a sure thing.
He was hers for as long as she wanted to play.
“I don’t need that drink after all,” she said. “I think I see what I need right here.”
She slid off the stool, making certain to brush the length of his body. Her pebbled breasts skimmed his chest, her knee bent as it caressed the side of his leg. More juices flowed at the thought of sex with this man with the hot eyes and hard mouth. She licked her lower lip in anticipation.
“You have a room?” she asked him on a husky note, surprised at the deep timbre.
He nodded and turned his head to the bartender. She liked the sharp angles of his profile, took a complete inventory and burned again.
“Champagne. Suite twenty fourteen,” he ordered from the gaping young man on the other side of the bar.
She slid her eyes to the younger man. “Make it the best you’ve got.”
She turned, took her clutch from the bar top and headed toward the exit that would take them through the lobby and up to his suite. She swayed her hips seductively, straightened her shoulders and knew the heat of his stare through the silk of her dress.
“My card,” he offered. He took her elbow in a firm grip to guide her through the tables. She took the card, glanced at his name in spite of not wanting to know it. Mark McLeod.
It was a good name. She didn’t recognize the company logo, but it didn’t matter; they’d never be in touch again. She slid the card into the outside pocket of her clutch next to the very convenient letter from Watson, Watson and Sloane.
She looked up at his profile once more. Strong chin, bold nose, hard lips, and great shoulders. She warmed through and through at the idea of skimming his collarbone with her mouth, allowing her teeth to leave small marks of possession along the path.
He did not look back at the table of companions he’d left behind. No, his focus was on Faye and Faye alone.
She knew he’d keep it there. How refreshing.
They strode across the lobby together, his fingers firm on her arm. Her breath quickened with each step, her breasts bounced, each movement a secret abrasion on her sensitized nipples. Her knees quaked at the knowledge of what she was about to do. Sex with a stranger in an airport hotel room.
Coolheaded logic flushed through her body, washing away the rapacious desire that had brought her here.
The inherent danger in her plan finally rattled her. Faye glanced at Mark out of the corner of her eye as they walked together. He looked like a decent man, a kind man. A normal man. A hot and ready man she’d deliberately enticed. She couldn’t go back on her offer now.
Her body wouldn’t let her, she realized, as the warmth in her loins spread upward again. She tried to tamp it back, but it was useless. This was a battle she’d lost many times in the last three months. Her body wanted what it wanted in spite of her attempts to hold herself in check.
She wanted to scream her need out loud, but she didn’t have to. Mark had picked up on her sexual craving, had responded and answered the call of woman to man. He knew what she wanted, and he would give it to her.
Once alone in the suite with Mark, anything could happen. Any sexually deviant behavior he favored could occur, and she’d be trapped in it with him. But wasn’t that part of the whole thing? The fantasy of being unable to put a stop to things, of being swept up into something forbidden, exciting and wild. Excitement mixed with a healthy dose of fear twitched and grew and made her pant.
Mark slid a finger over the elevator keypad and grinned into her eyes. “Okay?”
“I’m fine.” Fear mixed with anticipation was a heady blend–arousing and spicy.
“You’re more than fine, Faye. You’re a dream come true.” He let go of her arm and ran his hand down her back to cup her ass the way she’d envisioned earlier. Thrill trails followed his movements. “You’re perfect.”
“Really?” She bit her lip. She shouldn’t sound so ingenuous, so stupidly inexperienced. He’d be surprised enough by her behavior once they were alone.
The elevator doors opened, and they stepped inside the smoke-mirrored quiet. They turned as one to face the doors, bodies thrumming, heat rising, minds racing with images of what was to happen when the door closed, hiding them from public view. Mark frowned at a harried-looking bellman with a luggage cart.
Bonnie Edwards, a Toronto native, lives with her husband and pets on the rainy coast of British Columbia. She’s a mom, auntie, sister, friend, like all women. She believes life should be lived fully and with joy. That joy shows up in her earthy, often irreverent love stories. Bonnie uses long hikes in the woods and nearby seaside to bounce ideas off her husband and her dancing, prancing Standard poodle. (who almost always agrees with her)
She has written novels, novellas and short stories for Carina Press, Harlequin, Kensington Books and Robinson (UK).
Sometimes her stories have a paranormal twist, likes curses and ghosts, other times not. But they’re always entertaining and guarantee a happy ending.