Eden says::I’m celebrating the release of the second book in my ‘Dangerous Romance’ series DANGEROUSLY BROKEN, out today! Author J. Kenner says about DANGEROUSLY BROKEN“With kink, sensuality, emotional depth, and passion that flies off the page, Eden Bradley has a winner in Dangerously Broken. Loved it!” and author Lexi Blake says “Dangerously Broken is dark and sexy, romantic and edgy—this book will keep you up all night.”
It’s all or nothing…
Growing up, Summer Grace Rae lusted after Jamie Stewart-Greer something fierce. But her older brother’s best friend was strictly off limits. And in time Summer convinced herself to forget about him—until one erotic encounter…
Jamie has a dark side, and his BDSM fantasies are the perfect way to explore it. But he’s always hidden his extreme lifestyle from the one person who elicited his ultimate, forbidden passions. After all, Summer has been like a little sister to him for years—until Jamie sees her at the most infamous kink club in New Orleans.
Now, every taboo craving they’ve ever had is made real, in the flesh, and sending them on a sensual journey of discovery. But as their relationship spirals into the darkest recesses of desire, they’re both left breathlessly wanting more—and love could be the most dangerous fetish of them all.
PLAYLIST:: Many of you know how important music is to my writing process-well, to my life! Which is maybe why I’ve always dated so many musicians. Which, as it turns out, is usually a bad idea, and something my heroine in Book Three, DANGEROUSLY BAD, shares with me. But I digress… ; ) DANGEROUSLY BROKEN was such an emotional book for me to write! The history between Jamie and Summer was so loaded-I cried more than once working on it. The music had to be full of emotion, too-it set the tone and mood of the book. And yes, some of this music makes me cry, too! For those of you who share my love affair with music (if not my love affairs with musicians-ha!), I thought I’d post the most crucial parts of the playlist I listened to while writing this book. Hope you enjoy some of my music!
Let’s start with this one-maybe the most important song on this list, and the one I wrote to most often: ~~Lover by Alter Bridge
~~Watch Over You by Alter Bridge (this one was hugely important, too-the lyrics!!!)
Summer’s stomach was fluttering, tight with nerves. Jamie had been sending her texts all day telling her he had wonderfully wicked plans for their evening at The Bastille and she’d better be prepared, and even though she’d sassed him in response as she often did, most of his messages had carried an undertone—or an overtone in some cases—of real menace. It frightened her a bit, but it also turned her on like crazy. When he’d shown up at her door dressed all in black, from his big black boots to his tight black T-shirt and fitted leather pants that he sported like a rock star, her knees had literally gone weak. When they’d stepped off her front porch she saw he’d driven the Corvette, even though they were going to the club in the warehouse district. And she’d known tonight would be special, different from anything she’d ever experienced with him.
Now they were at the club and Jamie was taking his time talking to the corseted woman behind the front desk, leaving Summer to stand next to him, fidgeting. Totally unlike her, even in bottom mode, but the way he’d handled things today was certainly doing its job. She was shaken up, off balance. And so turned on already she could barely stand it. Which, she was sure, was exactly what he’d intended. How had he known she’d respond like this to his stern approach when she hadn’t known herself?
Finally he was done at the desk as a group came in behind him to check in, and he took her hand and led her onto the main floor without a word. Tonight the lighting was all in shades of purple with the occasional red glow from some of the sconces that decorated the highly lacquered black walls. The music was dark, too, rumbling, rasping hard rock with a heavy bass line that made the floors tremble. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach as they walked across the polished wood floors, passing those who were already playing at the different stations: spanking benches, St. Andrew’s crosses, simple chains hung from the ceiling with spreader bars attached to them where male and female bottoms alike were suspended by heavy leather cuffs. At the edge of her vision she caught sight of a beautiful Domme strapping a naked submissive male into an interrogation chair, a trio using one of the padded tables suspended by chains, a tall Dom spanking a petite young woman turned over his knee on one of the plush chairs in a seating area. There were moans and groans of pain and pleasure and the startling snap of a whip from somewhere. And all of it enveloped her, adding to her headspace, making her feel her submission in a way that was energizing. Empowering, somehow, despite the tremors of fear running like a small, live wire just beneath her skin.
Jamie stopped in front of an enormous web made of chain that stood on a giant frame. He placed his bag on the floor to one side of the gleaming web and pulled her closer to him, smiling down at her.
“We’ll play here tonight.”
. . . said the spider to the fly.
She almost had to grin. But the anticipation was building, making her dizzy. And being at the club with Jamie was overloading her in some way she didn’t quite understand. But she loved that aspect of what was happening.
She nodded, waiting for instructions, her head sinking so fast she was having a hard time focusing on anything but Jamie, the beat of the music, the heavy chains she knew he loved and that she was coming to love, too. She could almost feel their cold touch against her skin.
Jamie stroked her cheek, his hand trailing over her long hair until he reached the ends, rubbing the strands between his fingers, as he often did. But tonight he seemed more introspective.
“What is it?”
“You seem . . . I don’t know. A little distant tonight.”
“My mind is going. Thinking about the evening ahead. Is it alarming you, sugar?”
“No. Of course not.”
He grinned crookedly—a roguish grin. “Maybe it should be.”
Oh, she loved that he messed with her head like that, as ridiculous as it sounded to her turning the words over in her mind. But she was going wet already from the mind-fuck, from simply being there with him. From everything she was seeing. From the ambience of wicked sensuality.
She smiled. “Yes, maybe it should. Maybe I’ll find out later that I should have been more nervous than I am.”
He tilted her chin up with one commanding finger, leaned in as if to kiss her, stopping inches from her lips. He whispered, “Are you nervous at all, Summer Grace? About what I might do to you tonight? About how much you might like it?”
She swallowed, tried to laugh, but it didn’t quite come out right. “I am now.”
“Excellent.” Jamie straightened up, ran a hand down her arm as he spoke, sending delicious little chills through her. “Tonight will be a bit different,” he told her. “I’m going to demand a lot of you. I want you to be very conscious of your safewords. Use them if you need to. I don’t care how brave you think you should be, or how strong. We both already know how strong you are, sweetheart—you have nothing to prove. But this will be a test of sorts. We’re going to try some new toys, see how much you can really take. Because I don’t think we’ve truly tested that yet, do you?”
“No, Jamie,” she answered truthfully. “I know I can take much more. And I want to. It’s something I’ve been thinking about. Something I’ve been craving.”
He yanked her in hard suddenly, his mouth next to her ear. “Get ready for some testing then, sugar. Because I’m going to be hard on you tonight. Oh yes, very damn hard. And I will take the greatest pleasure in your screams.”
She shivered, unable to answer as he brushed a kiss across her cheek.
He dragged her over to the chain web so suddenly, so forcefully, she lost her footing in her stiletto heels, but he held her up with one strong arm, keeping her from falling. Keeping her safe. And the contradiction of it was a mind-fuck in itself—sweet, gentle Jamie, who was beautifully rough with her at exactly the right moments. And never more rough with her than he was tonight.
He grabbed her chin and forced her gaze to his. “Where are you, Summer Grace?”
“I’m right here.”
He shook his head. “You’re not. I’m asking you again, where are you?”
“I don’t know . . . In my own head too much, maybe?”
“Better. And I agree. Let’s see what we can do to get you more grounded in the moment. Do you remember your safewords? Tell me.”
“Green if everything is good. Yellow if we need to pause or change toys, if I need you to ease up. If I need a drink of water. Red to stop the scene completely.”
“Perfect. Now take off your clothes while I get set up—all but your shoes.”
He released her, turning his back on her to pull different implements from his black toy bag, setting them out on a long table. She swallowed hard when she saw him lay out several long canes in different sizes—both wood and Lucite—but she started to undress, ordering herself to breathe.
She pulled her short black knit dress over her head, then took off her black lace bra. Jamie turned around and put his hand out, nodding his chin. She gave him her clothing, but instead of pulling his hand away he just stood there, watching her with one eyebrow raised.
“All of it.”
She knew she should take her thong off, too. She wanted to. But she felt momentarily frozen. She didn’t know if it was because the way he was treating her was working so well, or if some defense mechanism was kicking in.
Finally he said, “Summer Grace, this is not the time to get bratty with me. And that’s the last warning you’re going to get.”
“I . . . I’m a little disoriented tonight, to be perfectly honest.”
“We don’t need to have any discussion right now. Simply do as you’re told.”
His stern tone rocked her. And made her entire body clench with need. Yearning.
So this is what it’s like to be a true submissive, and not just a bottom.
She felt a little shocked that she wanted this—the real D/s dynamic and not just sensation and some role-play. A little mad at herself. At Jamie.
“Fine,” she said, yanking her lace thong down and handing it to him.
He took it and put her clothes in the toy bag. When he turned back to her, his eyes were green fire. Green ice. Something was going on with him tonight. And she liked it.
He approached her slowly, and she felt the moment as if it were happening in slow motion. He grabbed her, swinging her around and forcing one arm behind her back, gripping her wrist hard enough to hurt. His other arm went around her throat, and God, she loved when he used breath play on her—constricting her air just enough for her to feel his command, for her to give him her trust completely. Her nipples went hard and her pussy clenched again, desire lancing through her. Fear made her shiver. And beneath it all was that little bit of anger still, preventing her from giving in completely.
Jamie leaned in, his tone low. “Stop struggling, Summer Grace. I understand what you’re going through—a kind of quiet rebellion. You’re not used to this—me refraining from tempering my dominance with gentleness. But you know it’s there if you truly need it. Trust in me that I will give you what you need. But tonight is also about what I need. And I need you to serve my desires. Do you understand that I won’t harm you, no matter how rough the play gets?”
He loosened his hold on her throat and she pulled in a gasping breath. “Of course, Jamie. I wouldn’t be here with you otherwise. And . . .” The words came out in a whisper. “I want to serve your desires. I want to. And maybe I even need to.”
“Ah, there’s my good girl.”
Those words, his approval, melted away the last of her anger. Melted her all over. Her mind was emptying out, her head starting to buzz. And he hadn’t really done anything yet. She realized in some distant way that this was where the power was in the D/s roles. It wasn’t in the pain play, although more would manifest once that began. She could hardly wait.
He pressed her back a few steps, then a few more until her back came into contact with the web of chains. They were cool against her bare skin, and she shivered.
“Cold, sweetheart? I’ll warm you up, baby.”
With a hand on her throat, his fingers pressing, he kissed her hard. His mouth was so lush and sweet—he tasted like mint and pure Jamie. Her Jamie. Like sex and familiarity.
He pulled back. “Warmer?” he asked.
He smiled down at her, his dimples flashing, and for one moment he looked like her sweet Jamie again. Then his grip on her throat tightened and he crushed her lips with his, his big body pressing her hard against the chains, until they dug into her flesh a bit. But she was nearly swooning at the feel of him—his tall, muscled frame, the ridge of his arousal against her belly. She moaned into his mouth as his tongue slid into hers, exploring. Demanding. She could barely breathe—literally, as his big hand tightened on her throat. When she gasped he released her and she sank into him, her legs weak.
“You like it when I choke you.”
“So do I.”
“Shh. Quiet now. You’ll talk only when I ask you a question, or if you need to safeword. I’m going to cuff you to the chains. Can you stand by yourself?”
He made sure she was steady on her feet before stepping back to get the padded leather cuffs. He gave a nod of his chin and she held her wrists out for him. He fastened the cuffs, then clipped them with a pair of carabiners to the big web so that her arms were spread wide. Then he pulled another pair of larger cuffs from his back pocket and knelt to shackle her ankles to the web, as well. She felt exposed, beautifully wanton in her pretty high-heeled shoes and nothing else but her ravenous desire.
He rose to his feet and brushed a quick kiss across her mouth, then nibbled on her lower lip. “Beautiful girl,” he said before stepping back, and she watched as he looped the small leather handles of three canes onto a hook on his belt.
She closed her eyes and waited.
Jamie began to stroke her skin—her arms, her sides, then her breasts. She arched into his hands as much as she was able to, but she was bound tightly. Her nipples were so hard they hurt, and when he stroked them with his thumbs she moaned quietly. She was soaked already—her clit, the lips of her sex, tight and swollen with need. He kept stroking the two hard peaks, then pinched them lightly. When he bent to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, she groaned, pulling against her bonds.
“Oh, you like that, baby. But I think you’ll like this even better.”
He straightened up, looking down at her with a half-smile on his handsome face as he slipped a hand behind her neck and began to tap her thigh with one of the smaller canes. It didn’t hurt at first, and she understood he was establishing a rhythm. The tapping became harder, stinging her skin as she sank into the quick cadence of it. It felt good, her body, her brain, converting the small pain into pleasure that shimmered through her system. Then there was one sharp smack and she yelped. He stopped. Looked into her eyes.
“Are we still green?”
“Yes. We’re green.” She wanted more. Wanted it harder.
He started once more, harder this time, and pleasure swarmed her body in a warm tide. Her head was sinking into the rhythm as much as her body was. Then he hit her with one vicious smack across the front of both thighs and she cried out.
He smoothed a hand over the hurting places and the pain became pleasure. Desire. The need for more.
CONTEST & Help me, readers!
Today I happen to be traveling home from a conference, which makes me panic a li’l bit, since I won’t be around until the evening to pimp my new book release-disaster! So I could really use your help, and I’m not above offering some temptation in the form of a contest-lol!
This is what you can win:: ~A $50.00 Amazon Gift Card!
~An autographed copy of Book One in this series, DANGEROUSLY BOUND, shipped anywhere, along with some special swag goodies!
~A $25.00 Gift Card to Sephora (my favorite source for skincare, lip gloss and great holiday gifts!)
~My undying gratitude! And Voodoo’s, too-he hates it when mama is stressed and grumpy. : )
This is how you can enter:: ~Tweet about this contest & have anyone who stops by to enter name you as the person who referred them in their comment.
~Tweet one of these handy-dandy promo Tweets, then let me know in your comment here:
~Post one of these on FB along with an image of the cover, then let me know in your comment here:
How can Jamie bring his best friend’s little sister into the kink life? How can he resist? Summer Grace is the one woman he’s always wanted, and could never have, but now forbidden fruit has never tasted so good…
Get Eden Bradley’s DANGEROUSLY BROKEN~out now! http://tinyurl.com/q4feo3j#BDSM#romance
Jamie has a dark side, and his BDSM fantasies are the perfect way to explore it. But he’s always hidden his extreme lifestyle from the one person who elicited his ultimate, forbidden passions. After all, Summer has been like a little sister to him for years—until Jamie sees her at the most infamous kink club in New Orleans.
So taboo no publisher would touch it, Eden Bradley brings you a new story of self-discovery within the most formal arena in BDSM.
I am probably more excited about this book than anything I’ve ever written. It’s the kind of story I used to write back in my early twenties, when I didn’t worry about anyone ever reading it. It’s raw *me*-a true book of my kinky, twisted heart!
Being involved in BDSM most of my adult life hugely influenced this story. While I’ve never been into the slave mentality myself, I’ve always found it fascinating from a psychological perspective. And even though I don’t necessarily want to do all of the things I’ve written about in the first book in my new Training House series, I still find it very hot to read about, write about, or to watch at the clubs. There’s something so taboo about being the observer. There’s a LOT taboo about this story. Oh…and one of the people in this book is someone from my own life, but I’m not telling who. ; )
I do need to warn people:: the scenes that happen in GIRL can be disturbing to some readers. This is much heavier than any BDSM I’ve published, and I don’t want anyone to think they’re getting my usual stuff. This book is my most fucked up fantasy-lol! I hope it will be yours, too. ; )
I’ll be popping in and out through the evening of Thursday the 17th to answer questions-feel free to ask me anything! Do you want to know what exactly my kink experience is? (I’m a switch, so I have experience from both the top and the bottom). How to find appropriate resources to learn more about BDSM? What music I listen to when I write? What happened when I recently put myself up for auction at my local kink club? Have general questions about kink? I’m ‘out’-to my family, friends, publishers-so you are truly welcome to ask me anything! I’m becoming more and more involved with education about sexual positivity for women and kink practice and psychology, so I’m up for pretty much anything you can throw my way! And be sure not to miss my giveaway at the end of this post, and to buy your copy of THE TRAINING HOUSE: GIRL now!
In those breathless moments between pleasure and pain lie the most poignant truths…
I have signed myself over to The Training House: my devotion, my obedience, my body. It is what I have always yearned for—to lose myself in powerlessness. To be made to. But this place is more than anyone could possibly prepare for, especially the Master of the House. He is too stunning, too commanding, bringing out a yearning for submission in ways I have never imagined, and I am lost in nearly unbearable desire. He uses my body until he brings me to tears, then tenderly wipes them away, enslaving me to him instantly, body and soul.
I cannot imagine existing without him, without his wicked touch, his strict and sensual command…
Until I meet another slave, and he changes the game of kink for me forever. How can I decide what my heart wants most, without risking losing it all?
WARNING::These books contains material that may be difficult to read about and/or cause triggers for some readers, including consensual non-consent and other scenes that could be disturbing. Do NOT try this at home!
***NOTE: GIRL ends on a cliffhanger. Book two BOY will be out this winter!
EXCERPT:: Warning:: X-Rated!!!
The Master stands in silence as Mistress Alexa’s stiletto heels retreat down the hallway. I don’t know what he’s waiting for. What he plans to do. Of course I don’t. My arms have already begun to ache from being bound for so long. Taking a breath, I try to sink into the ache, but my poor brain is too much all over the place. Everything is too new. I try to roll my shoulders, and there is just enough give to get one tiny roll in before the Master grabs me and shoves me to the floor, onto my side, then rolls me over on my back.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Girl?” he asks. “Did I tell you to move?”
He doesn’t need to raise his voice. Every single thing that comes out of his mouth is a threat.
I don’t dare shake my head. He is so thoroughly intimidating, straddling my body. If only I could tear my gaze from his for a moment to collect myself, but he would never allow it. He stares down at me, his blue eyes burning with a dark fire that looks like banked anger and something else. Something impossible not to recognize: banked desire. He wants me.
My heart leaps, my body thrumming as he continues to stare at me, into me. There are long, breathless moments in which I feel as if I am held suspended in mid-air. In which I swear desire is like a sound wave just out of reach, then a buzzing in the room, then a drumbeat pounding between my thighs.
He takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and I can’t begin to imagine what that means. Then he blinks, leans down and slaps my face—one light smack, then another. He pauses only to take the gag from my mouth, and I have perhaps a single second to press my lips together before he starts slapping my face once more, my left cheek, then the right, harder and harder.
Why do I feel joyous? Maybe it’s because he hasn’t taken his burning gaze from mine. He’s hurting me, but I want the pain. I want to take it for him. To be nothing for him. To be everything. I want it because he is the most wicked sadist I have ever met, which makes my heart trip and tumble. Which makes me need to please him all the more. And something in my chest loosens, opens up like a black chasm lined in silver.
Finally he turns me over and drags me on my knees to a small sofa, but I don’t have a moment to see what it looks like—the room is a blur of red velvet and gold damask and God knows what else as he bends me over the sofa, my breasts resting on the seat. I hear him remove his belt, and with the first blow I know he’s doubled it, making a heavy loop of the leather. He hits my poor ass with it, hard and fast. The pain is intense right from the start, and at first I get a nice flood of endorphins, pleasure making me wet, making me need to come. But very quickly he’s hitting me too hard for any of those lovely brain chemicals to help, and it’s simply my unbridled desire to please that enables me to take it.
Anything for him.
I hear his ragged breathing over me as he drops the belt and his fist goes into my hair once more. He pulls me to the floor, onto my back again, and kicks my thighs apart. I watch him through a haze of wonder and pain as he drops the belt and smacks my breasts with his bare hand. My body arches into the pain, into his touch, into the lovely brutality.
Anything for you.
“Do not defy me, Girl.” He places one booted foot on my right shoulder, then reaches down to give my breast another hard slap. “In time—and let’s both hope you’re smart enough—you’ll come to find I have little patience for an unruly slave. You are mine.” He slaps the other breast, the pain making my ears ring. “Mine. I will be sure you never have the opportunity to forget that.”
He stands there watching me for endless moments. Then he leans down and grabs my jaw in his strong hand. He says in a low tone, almost a murmur, “You are too damn beautiful for your own good. Or maybe for mine.”
Before I can help myself, I shake my head my head the tiniest bit, and he allows me to do it.
“Yes. I don’t know what this means, either.” He stops for a moment, takes a deep breath, purses his lips, then squeezes my jaw harder. “If I asked you—told you—to suck my cock, you would,” he says harshly.
I nod, not knowing what else to do, not knowing what’s going on.
“If I beat you—and I will—you would accept it gratefully. And accept me making you come just as gratefully. But if I kissed you… What would you think of that?”
I take a moment, confused.
“You may speak,” he tells me.
Still, it takes me several long seconds to find my voice. “I would accept it all with utter gratitude and desire, Master,” I whisper.
“Because I am your Master,” he says, rather than asks.
“No,” I tell him. Then more harshly, my heart oddly full, “No, Master!”
Straightening up, he runs a hand through his hair, then takes a step back and sits on the edge of the little sofa, watching me still. After a full minute goes by in which my heart is a small hammer trying to beat its way out of my chest, I hear footsteps behind me. “Robert, leash her and have her taken to the basement. Let my driver work her over after you’ve fed and rested her for a bit. He’s earned a little bonus.”
~Read GIRL, then post a review on FB, your blog, Goodreads or Amazon, tand post the link here.
~Post a comment about my book with a link to my website page or a buy link on FB, then give me the link to your post in your comment here. You’re welcome to use any of these graphics~just post a link to the book along with it:
Welcome (Or Welcome back) to The Smutketeers Blog! We started this blog 7 years ago in September. We were just a group of author friends who loved hanging out and wanted to pimp each other’s books. And wear corsets once a year. And let our friends come over to share their new releases with you. Did I mention the Smutketeers photo shoot? *G*
Now we do Cover Model Karaokeevery year at the RT conference, have The 12 days of Xmas-which is one of the largest author and prize-filled celebrations online (usually with a music video where we make authors sing and dance for your pleasure). BDSM-A-Palooza-also full of erotic romance authors who know how to make you beg for more :) and more contests and fun on The Brass Chattery FB group every day in between.
Eden Bradley, Robin L Rotham and R.G. Alexander (me) all have our different writing styles (a little kinky, hardcore and holy shit lol) and our different lifestyles (fangirl geek, dirty farm wife, and sexy shoe addict whose life would be a reality show if it wasn’t so x-rated) But from the moment we met, we knew we were all going to be the best of friends. Because we love each other, we love telling stories, and we LOVE our readers.
So come to today’s PARTY to win one of a dozen great prizes and celebrate the upcoming release of Eden Bradley’s Training House: Girl (a dark, taboo book that’s been compared with The Story of O! …if you don’t know look it up because omfg)/ and the 3rd book in R.G. Alexander’s Finn Factor series Dangerous. (The series for a reader who likes a little variety: m/m, m/f, m/m/f, m/m/m etc)
Join our Chattery!
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And stay tuned. The rest of this year is going to be filled with AMAZING news!
Tell us what your first erotic romance book read was in the comments below to be entered to win a $10 Amazon gift card.
Hey there, Smutkedettes-let’s give a warm welcome to the fab Amy Jo Cousins as she visits with us, offers us a peek at her latest release and goodies to be won!
When it comes to love, there’s no such thing as smooth sailing.
Rafael Castro is so far out of his element he can’t even see it anymore. Carlisle College in Massachusetts is a long way from his Chicago home, even farther from his Dominican Republic roots.
The only thing keeping him attached to his last nerve is the prospect of seeing Denny Winslow again. The first time they met, Denny taught Rafi to fly across the water, rowing hard in a knife-like boat. Now, two years later, on the wings of a rowing scholarship, Rafi is attending Denny’s elite college.
Even before the excitement wears off, Rafi is struggling with classes and fending off rumors that Denny’s family, not Rafi’s talent, won him his spot. To quash the gossip, Rafi tries to steer clear of the man he wants. A plan that evaporates in the fire of renewed attraction.
But Carlisle’s academic pressure cooker has Rafi barely treading water. And when a family crisis hits, both Rafi and Denny must pull hard to keep their relationship from capsizing in rough waters. Warning: Contains a surly Dominican-American guy determined to show no weakness, a golden boy who knows his soft spots, some seriously dirty bachata dancing, and an excellent excuse for voyeurism in the locker room.
LEVEL HANDS EXCERPT
“So I take it the waiting period is over?” Denny’s soft voice was easily audible in the dark, dancing over Rafi’s skin and making him shiver.
He snorted. If only. He flicked a glance at the closed bedroom door. “I thought so, but not quite, I guess.”
Denny shook his head, the edge of his teeth white against his lip as he bit it. Then he pushed himself up on one elbow, still facing Rafi, and used his other hand to shove his blanket down.
Rafi knew Denny had been wearing sleep shorts when he’d crawled under the dark red blanket Steph had left out on the air mattress. His bare chest had been distracting enough, pressed against Rafi’s own while they kissed, but if he’d been totally naked, Steph and Cash would’ve interrupted something very different upon their early return. Rafi was pretty sure he wouldn’t have even managed one kiss before hitting his knees right there in the middle of the living room.
But Denny, the tempting, torturous bastard, had kicked those shorts off and was lying there exposed from neck to groin, the trailing edge of the blanket running back over his hip to cover his ass.
Rafi swallowed. Hard.
Denny raised a finger to his lips.
Rafi damn near squeaked. Shhhh? Holy crap. Was Denny going to…
Run a single finger down the length of his hard dick from the tip to the base while staring Rafi in the eyes?
“Oh my God,” he whispered, watching Denny as if he’d die if he stopped. The yellow glow of the old-fashioned streetlights illuminated the room enough for him to see the slow stroke of Denny’s hand. The arch of his neck as he tilted his head back, the shadow of the dip at the base of his throat. In the silence, he could hear Denny’s breathing grow harsher.
As if the sound reminded him of his own saliva, Denny lifted his hand to his mouth, licking his palm. The slick sound of that palm sliding over hard flesh fired every nerve in Rafi’s body. He clenched his fist around the base of his dick, holding back his own climb toward orgasm.
With a soft cry and a curl forward, Denny came, pulling his hand up to spill into it instead of on his belly. For a second, Rafi wondered if Denny was going to do something Rafi had only ever seen in porn before and lick it off his own hand. But with a tired groan, Denny grabbed the T-shirt he’d left on top of his bag next to his head and wiped his hand clean.
Rafi could smell him in the dark, the thick scent of sex and sweat and come surrounding him as Denny’s rough breathing slowed. Before he had a chance to think about it— unlike Denny, he was facing their hosts’ bedroom door— Rafi pulled down his afghan and exposed himself.
Exposed. That was the right word for it. With Denny’s eyes on him, Rafi felt seen like he had never been before, even as he wondered if his darker skin made it impossible for Denny to pick out the same details that had fascinated Rafi. He didn’t have the patience to move slowly. He was too close to the edge. Right before he came, Denny reached up with one hand and rested his fingertips on Rafi’s forearm. A touch that pulled every ounce of his focus from his cock and balls to those five soft spots where Denny’s fingers pressed into the muscle of his arm. Rafi held his breath. He’s touching me. As dizziness swept over him, he exhaled with a harsh burst of air that matched the pulse in his balls as he came, spurting over his stomach and chest.
It was like dying, with a witness. His muscles trembled and he rolled onto his back, come cooling on his skin as he pulled himself back into his body. After a moment, a throat cleared. Rafi turned his head to look over the edge of the couch.
Denny passed him his messy T-shirt. His whisper held an edge of laughter. “No sense taking two home.”
Rafi snorted, sweat cooling on his exposed skin. He wiped himself down and they stuffed the T-shirt deep in Denny’s bag. Then they settled back into their beds, looking at each other and breathing quietly in the dark. Rafi saw Denny’s eyes flutter heavily as he fell asleep.
The shadows on the wall shifted over the next several hours every time a car passed on the street, and Rafi watched them flicker while he tried to talk himself into falling asleep. But all he could think about was how impossible it had been to resist the temptation of Denny Winslow.
Yes, the waiting period was officially over.
GIVEAWAY!!! I’ll gift one winner with an ebook of LEVEL HANDS, or of any book from the entire Bend or Break series (OFF CAMPUS, NOTHING LIKE PARIS, THE GIRL NEXT DOOR). All of the books are connected, but stand alone, so no need to start at the beginning unless you want to! To enter, simply comment below with your opinion of voyeurism! Is it hot to watch, or is hands-on the way to go?
A winner will be chosen on Friday night, so be sure to check back for the announcement in the comments section!
Get to know Amy Jo with some either/or questions!
Beer or girly drink with an umbrella? Beer! Dogfish Head 60 Minute IPA in the winter and Stiegl Radler in the summer. Yum.
Vanilla or chocolate? Chocolate. Dark chocolate, with a cherry-chili center, preferably. A German company used to make these amazing chocolates that I can’t find in the States any more, but I still remember that cherry-chili filling and the way it zinged against the dark chocolate!
Hugs or kisses? Kisses, always. Unless, are we talking people I meet on the street? The kiss might be less appropriate then. My apologies for climbing all over you… (Eden says: No apologies needed!)
Boxers, briefs or commando? Boxer-briefs are the best of both worlds and whoever invented the should get some kind of medal.
Steak or sushi? Sushi, but someone else has to order for me. For whatever reason, I can never remember what I like a sushi restaurants, so I just trust in my friends. They never let me down!
Jeans or stilettos? Jeans on the daily, stilettos on the rare occasion when I want to rule the town.
Elegant fop or rough-edged rogue? I’ll flirt with the elegant fop. I’ll trip the rough-edged rogue and race him to the floor.
Tropical beach or mountain cabin? Mountain cabin, especially if there’s a fireplace and the chance to get snowed in…
Cop or fireman? Fireman, please. That whole running into a burning building to save someone’s life thing is ridiculously hot. Also, I have a weird thing for turnout pants. They’re hot!
Vampire or werewolf? I spent my teens and twenties obsessed with Anne Rice’s vampires (and witches!), but these days I’m all about the intensity of the werewolf.
Soft, sensual make out session or throw you up against the wall? Why else do we have walls, honestly? Throw me up against the nearest one, please.
Summer or winter? Winter! I can’t deal with the heat. It’s impossible to cool down without help from AC, but you can always figure out a way to warm up in the winter. ;)
Tattoos or piercings? My Pinterest board might convince you I can’t live without them on my love interests, but in real life I just want someone to be happy in their own skin. Love piercings and tattoos? Great! Would never do either? No problem. I’m happy either way. For myself, I have a teensy bit of a needle phobia, so I am neither tatted nor pierced. I’ve long known what tattoos I will get as soon as they offer general anesthesia at the tattoo parlor though!
City girl or country girl? I’m a city girl, for sure. I walk everywhere! Grocery store, elementary school to drop of my kid, library, coffee shop for writing dates, local bookstore. I just gave up my car this year and between walking and the El, I get around with no road rage (an old failing) ever.
Las Vegas luxury hotel or quaint Wine Country Inn vacation? Did someone mention wine? I’ll go wherever the wine is, thank you!
Brady Finn has been a cop and a Marine, but he’s never been in a situation as dangerous as this one. Waking up naked in the bed of a man he’s wanted for months—with no memory of how he got there—was only the beginning.
Rope Dom Ken Tanaka knows kink isn’t Brady’s scene, but he still can’t resist the tall, redheaded Boy Scout. When their search for a missing person requires Brady to go above and beyond the call of duty, they’ll both do what needs to be done for the mission—and give in to the undeniable passion between them.
Will their explosive chemistry last once the job is over? Or will taking that chance be more dangerous than either man is willing to risk?
Warning: Explicit male/male sexy times. Voyeurism with a touch of noncon, role playing, rope. And, once again, very serious about the graphic gay sex. I’m not sure why you don’t believe me… Also? An Evil League of Evil! Good kink vs scary villain kink (you’ve been warned), Finn Club rules and the aftereffects of The Great Rumming of 2015. I SAID RUMMING. Dirty minds.
!!!BONUS FREE READ!!! A Curious Proposal: An Owen and Jeremy quickie
You should at least read the first chapter of Dangerous before starting this.
Hello, hello! Smutketeers, thank you so much for hosting me today! I’m ridiculously excited to be here. I’m Eva Grayson, and I write contemporary erotic romance. I’m on the Smutketeers blog today to discuss my newest release, Shameless Part 1 (which is free!!).
Here’s the book blurb:
I’m shocked when hot divorce lawyer Austin Smith hits on me at a bar. Is this man for real, or is he punking me? But when I realize that Austin—the man who represented my ex-husband and raked me over the coals—doesn’t recognize me, a plan hatches. A plan of revenge. Yeah, someone needs to take Mr. Ego down a notch or two, and I’m the perfect woman for the job. Now, I just have to get my ridiculous, unwanted sexual attraction to him under control.
I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this interested in a woman. Cass is clever and sexy…and wound up tighter than a bedspring. I want to lick and touch her body, to push her to the edge. Yeah, someone needs to release her suppressed eroticism, and I’m the perfect man for the job. Then, to my disbelief, she handcuffs me to a hotel bed and chews me out for being a ruthless workaholic lawyer. Oh, the gloves are off now. My plan for retaliation will put Cassidy Bryant back in her place.
In a wicked battle of the sexes, only one person can come out on top…
**This book ends on a cliffhanger, so grab Shameless Part 2, and then read the conclusion, Shameless Part 3! All out now!**
And now, an excerpt from Shameless Part 1:
My skin tightens when I see his eyes darken. Something about the way he’s staring at me makes me feel like he doesn’t notice anyone else in the bar. Like I’m the only human being he gives a crap about right now. Like the world around us has faded away.
It’s beyond sexy, being the focus of all his attention.
I imagine he’s even more so in the bedroom.
This is going to be harder than I thought, separating out this strange reaction I’m having to him in order to stay on task. I can’t deny I want to feel those big hands on me. Is it wrong to give in, to maybe scrap the plan, to just let myself go and enjoy what he’s promising?
I’m not looking for love right now or a committed relationship. Clearly, neither is he; workaholics put their job first, always, and I could never expect anything more from him than what is happening right now. But there’s a strange chemistry between the two of us that makes the air crackle. It’s almost visible.
It’s so tempting to say screw it, to let myself have him for one night. If only to help me get back on the saddle and remember what it feels like to experience genuine passion. And now I’m so, so torn.
Austin leans forward and brushes his lips against mine. The gesture is brief, just a tiny touch of skin on skin, but the impact is massive. Need coils deep in my lower belly, and my breathing grows shallow. I’m aroused. So turned on for him. Even the fabric of my clothes rubs my skin in a sensual way. I feel alive, awakened for the first time in far too long.
It’s almost insane and unfair that it’s this man doing this to me.
Lips hovering right in front of mine, Austin says, “Say yes. Come home with me. I’ll give you a night like you’ve never experienced before.”
Something about that cocky arrogance helps pull me back from the edge, into my head. Helps me remember what I’m doing. This man might want me, yes, but what he wants more is to prove how amazing he is in bed.
It’s not about me or this connection building between us. It’s about his ego. It’s about working the room, the way he does in court, I’m sure.
I suck in a long breath. Exhale. Gain control over my thoughts and rampant arousal. “I’m not going home with you,” I tell him firmly. Before he can say a word, I continue, “There’s a hotel a couple of blocks from here. It’s within walking distance.” And only a half mile or so from my apartment, as well, which is an added bonus, since I walked to the bar.
Victory lights up Austin’s eyes, and he smirks as he slips off his stool. He digs into his wallet and throws a crisp hundred-dollar-bill on the countertop. The bartender sees it and takes it toward the register to make change.
“Keep it,” Austin says smoothly to the man.
My cheeks burn again, but this time with a little of that pent-up frustration that’s been simmering in me for months now. The reason Austin has all this disposable income, the reason he can throw money away like that, is because of his job.
Raking innocent people over the coals, no matter the cost.
Anger squeezes my chest like a massive fist, and I force a toothy smile on my face as we leave the bar. It’s going to be my pleasure to knock Mr. Ego down a notch or two.
* * *
And now, let’s interview Austin Smith, divorce attorney and hero of Shameless Part 1!
Question 1: Austin, when was the first time you had sex?
Austin: Boy, you don’t pull any punches, do you, Eva? ;-) I was sixteen, and it was in the backseat of my car during one of those formal winter dances. *smiles* My dad gave me a condom and told me to be safe. I laughed at him–that was so never going to happen, I was certain–but I stuck it in my wallet anyway. Glad I did. She was a sweet girl…until she dumped me for some jock. *shrugs* C’est la vie.
Question 2: What’s your ideal vacation spot?
Austin: Vacation? *laughs* right. I barely have time to take a piss, much less go offline. My clients are…well, let’s just say they’re demanding and stressed out, and it’s my job to make the process for them as easy as possible. And to ensure they’re satisfied with my services, of course. But to answer your question, probably somewhere near water. A lake. The ocean, even. I like hearing the sound of water on the shore.
Question 3: What’s your go-to seduction song?
Austin: You’re so sure I need a song, huh? *smirk* I guess if I had to choose something, maybe “Closer” by Nine Inch Nails. It’s intense and dirty. Rather like me, I suppose…
Question 4: Last question. What’s your favorite spot on a woman’s body?
Austin: Her brain. There’s nothing sexier to me than a smart, witty woman. If you can turn on her brain, make her laugh and draw her out of her comfort zone, she will show you what part of herself turns her on. Which then becomes my new favorite spot. ;-)
* * *
Shameless Part 1 is out now, and it’s FREE! Snag your copy and start reading:
I’m giving away a $10 gift card to your favorite e-tailer. All you need to do is tell me this–what song is YOUR go-to seduction song? The one that turns you on and gets you and your partner in the mood?
One winner will be chosen at random. Contest ends August 15, 2015, 11:59 PM EST!
First a great big thank you to Smutketeers for letting me join their wicked fun! Later, I’ll share some naughty secrets about myself, but first I’m excited to tell you about my upcoming release of LAWYER UP. This is the second in my Meeting Men anthology series about successful, take-charge women who meet handsome professional men as they go about their everyday lives—and the naughty fun they have behind closed doors. It’s a perfect summer read, cause it’s hot, hot, hot! But don’t take my word for it…
“Intense chemistry, great characterization, and a kinky page-singeing ending will have readers clamoring for more…” —Publishers Weekly
“The sensuality and sexuality are palpable…” 4 Stars —Romantic Times Book Reviews
Big News! The trade paperback edition just went on Sale for $7.32 at Amazon (almost half the $13.99 list price). AND, I’m offering a Pre-Order Bonus of “alluring” free stuff if you order by Aug. 4. If you want to know what the “naughty surprise” is—let’s just say you’ll find it enticing in the boudoir…or your partner will anyway.
Giveaways too! First, I’m giving away an autographed copy of my Playing Doctor, described as “escapism of the richest, most decadent variety” by RT Book Reviews. Just answer my question below, and I’ll randomly draw a winner among the correct guesses this Saturday. Second, I’ve many more giveaways each month—ranging from naughty to nice—for all Club Kate members at http://www.KateAllure.com, so check that out.
Wrongly accused in Attorney-Client Privileges, sexy but innocent Beth has nowhere to turn but straight into the arms of a hotshot L.A. lawyer. Can this attorney manage to get her off in time?
Liza reaches a meeting of the minds—and more—when she unleashes her inhibitions and gives herself over to the primal allure of a Main Street lawyer in Of Unsound Mind and Body.
In Of Writs and Writhing, fearless defense attorney Pat gets more than she bargained for when she goes toe-to-toe with New Orleans’ infamous Playboy Judge. When things get heated both in and out of the courtroom, more than temperatures rise.
Three sizzling, deliciously taboo erotic romances so hot they should be illegal!
As Emmit reclined in his imposing judge’s chair—his seat of power—he tried to look at ease. They were alone in his court, late at night, and no one would bother them. He affected an air of casual perusal, his hand idly playing with the wooden gavel. His dark brown eyes flicked over the almost naked woman on her knees below him, but he held his countenance imperiously impassive, bored.
Inside, however, Emmit burned with fiery, painful lust. He found it nearly impossible to keep from jumping to his feet to rush down to her, this woman who just a short while ago meant nothing to him—just one more uptight, hard-nosed lawyer among the many that performed in his court. Emmit could hardly believe that this was the same person with a reputation as an authoritative bitch—the one everybody had called Pat-ocrat.
He understood now that the real Patricia had been there all along, had been waiting to emerge, hiding scared underneath her icy exterior. It was conceited, he realized, but Emmit liked thinking the true Patricia was his discovery, his secret revelation. He felt a growing connection between them, and the more he got to know this woman, the more he wanted her—all of her. It was a writhing ache that grew one hundred times worse the more he watched her kneel before him in naked submission.
She looked magnificent, utterly luscious and feminine, her small, pert breasts thrust upward by the pull of the cuffs on her arms. Patricia’s chest heaved as she sucked in air nervously, drawing his eyes repeatedly to her breasts. Emmit itched to remove her bra and touch those gorgeous tits, play with them, tweak them firmly, before lowering his head to suck one into his wet, hungering mouth. Her hair cascaded around her bare shoulders, giving her a girlish, natural air, the sexy lingerie a touch of the siren. She was a fantasy come to life, and his total control of her heightened his desire.
Emmit had always liked wielding power—he was a judge after all—but before now he had never realized how truly dominant he was sexually. Ordering her around was the most stimulating, thrilling thing he had ever done. To watch Patricia wait patiently for whatever he planned to do to her next was…unnerving…exciting…beyond arousing.
It was truly the hottest fucking moment in his entire life.
Emmit glanced back to her face and saw that Patricia was staring at him pleadingly, clearly wondering how long he would keep her waiting and what else he would demand of her. He locked eyes with her and allowed a slow, sly grin to spread across his face—wanting her to know just how much he admired the view—and was rewarded by her loud gasp. With obvious licentious intent, he lowered his eyes to the vee where her thighs met and stared intensely as if he could see straight through her silken panties to her wet pussy. Patricia whimpered then and squirmed, and his cock jerked urgently.
He took several deep breaths to calm down. Shaking his head ruefully, Emmit realized that he had complete control of her but not over his own body. He had to get mastery over himself or he would lose it the minute they started what he planned—and that definitely wasn’t acceptable. He chuckled slightly at the irony, the sound harsh in the quiet space.
To buy time to master his arousal, Emmit left her there several moments longer before he again locked eyes with her pleading ones. When he looked to her, he was struck by a sharp—shocking—mental joining with Patricia. The outside world ceased to exist. In that moment, there in his court with the woman he was falling for, the power and prestige of his judgeship meant almost nothing to him. The only thing that mattered was the authority he had over this special woman and her willing trust in him, which bound them together in mutual need.
It was time.
“Is the prisoner ready to perform her community service?”
Patricia quivered visibly. “Yes, I am…sir.”
His dick jerked again in response to her subservience. Was that an accident, he wondered? Did Patricia even realize she had sounded like a sex slave?
Cloaked in his powerful judicial aura, Emmit rose slowly. He descended the stairs and approached her with methodical, aggressive steps, stopping just in front of her. Then he pulled his black robes aside to reveal the bulge in his pants. She watched as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his thick, rock-hard shaft. Patricia gasped to see his huge, raging erection just inches from her face. He watched as her eyes traveled up his body to stare up at him, looking every inch the submissive fantasy of his wildest dreams.
He wanted more.
With a speaking glance downward, he asked the question—Will you take me in your mouth?—and again Patricia gasped. Emmit wondered then if he might have pushed her too far. He was wildly aroused by their game, but perhaps this was just too much.
Then she smiled up at him and obediently opened her mouth…
Get to know Kate Allure!
Kate Allure has been a storyteller her entire life, writing plays, short stories, and dance librettos throughout her childhood and later for semi-professional theater and dance companies. Her non-fiction writing included working for American Ballet Theatre and New York City Ballet. Beyond writing, Kate’s passions include traveling and exploring all things sensual with her loving husband.
Now I’ll answer some way too personal questions from the Smutketeers (And again, Eden says “Yay”!!!):
~Why erotica? I like sex…and lots of it. I only half-jokingly refer to my stories as “homeopathic libido enhancers.” Nowadays, we’re all so busy and physical intimacy can take a back seat, especially if one has kids or a demanding job. My hope is that these quick, steamy reads give hard-working women a few minutes of fantasy “me time.” And, if it works as a “libido enhancer” that’s a bonus husbands and boyfriends will appreciate too. (LOL) But seriously, I want to address such underlying issues in my website. I hope that KateAllure.com will become a meeting place where female sensuality can be explored with an “Ask Kate” reader forum and guest sex-pert bloggers. And, I’m thrilled that Smutketeer Eden Bradley will guest in November. My Meeting Men stories are the keystone of all this—quick steamy reads that might even inspire a night sexy fun too!
~Tell us about your first kiss! My first kiss was a nothing event, truly. I was on a 6th Grade trip and my lips touched those of a cute boy…and that was it. Then I became heavily involved in the ballet world—not exactly flush with straight guys—and I didn’t have another one for years. But if you want to know about the kiss where sparks flew, one I remember like it was yesterday, well…
I was standing outside my college dorm late one night, following a rehearsal for a show I was in and where I’d met a cute fellow cast member. Endlessly, we stood and quietly talked while he gently held my hand. His thumb circled the sensitive skin of my palm and sent tingles racing up my arm. We leaned ever closer as we continued to whisper about who we were and what we wanted in life. Even as we strained ever nearer to each other, there was a mutual restraint that held us apart, due to the complication that I was—sort of—involved with someone else at the time. But eventually our lips touched and the kiss was divine. He wrapped me in his arms and held me close and our bodies got to know each other, our tongues became intimately familiar, and my heart pounded. Then he pulled back, stepped away, and that was it. As I said, I was otherwise attached.
~What’s the most embarrassing sex story you’re willing to tell? Fairly recently, my DH and I were “playing” and it was amazing. If you’ve never experimented with a bunny flogger then you’re really missing out. Interspersed with, shall we say, more intense stimulation and blindfolded, I never knew what was coming next. It was amazing and I grew increasingly aroused and…I was panting and…I reached toward an incredible pinnacle of pleasure and then…I fainted. As you might guess, that was kind of a downer—not to mention the mortification—but someday I want to feel that tantalizing height again and, this time, not pass out.
The Smutketeers infamous Either / Or questions!
~Beer or girly drink with an umbrella? Neither, instead an elegant, complex martini that teases the taste buds
~Vanilla or chocolate? Are we talking about candy…
~Jeans or stilettos? Stilettos
~Elegant fop or rough-edged rogue? Elegant rogue who likes it rough.
~Tropical beach or mountain cabin? Which one comes with handcuffs?
~Cop or fireman? Both, preferably at the same time.
~Vampire or werewolf? Vampire, although I’ll admit that I like Twilight’s evil James the best. So what does that say about me?
~Gorgeous canopy bed with satin sheets or fur rug in front of a blazing fire? Hmmm, canopies are great for bondage but soft, tantalizing fur teases bare skin…
~Soft, sensual make out session or throw you up against the wall? At this point, do I really need to answer.
~Las Vegas luxury hotel or quaint Wine Country Inn vacation? What do they say about outer space? No one can hear you scream. Same could be said of a noisy LV hotel, whereas in the other you’d better bring along your ball-gag. But, truly, I love um both, depending on my mood.
Thanks so much to the Smutketeers for having me! Today I’ll be talking about my upcoming release in the Portland Rebels series, The Hierarchy of Needs. While I love all my characters, Jamie and Dean were especially fun to write because of the pent-up tension between the two of them, and how explosive things became when they finally got together!
The Hierarchy of Needs
Once you figure out what you want, it’s impossible to ignore what you need.
Jamie Matthews is stuck in a rut. After hitting a wall with her dream career, she’s back in her hometown, living a life as monotonous as swimming laps in the neighborhood pool. Being surrounded by her perfect brothers is a painful reminder of her failure to launch. The last bonfire of the summer is an ideal way to let off steam, especially when she runs into Dean Trescott, the playboy friend she had one hot-as-hell night with back in high school.
Since the day Dean met Jamie, he’s loved her beauty, talent, and smile that lit up the whole damn block. But dating isn’t an option. She has a bright future ahead of her, and he refuses to chain her to his—helping run the family business that’s barely staying afloat.
A “what-happens-in-Vegas” weekend was supposed to get their craving for each other out of their systems. But neither counted on the past repeating itself, drawing them together in even hotter and dirtier ways and dangling the possibility they might both be able to get exactly what they need…
Warning: A friends-to-lovers twice over story that contains some hot ’n’ heavy kissing in the waves, hair pulling, and a man who knows how to use his hands. It may also feature a few practical jokes—only the fun kind, of course.
Here’s a little excerpt for your reading pleasure:
“I’m thinking maybe you were right.”
Dean made a sound that was a mixture of a laugh and a cough. “Okay. What was I right about?”
Jamie took a breath. “One night.”
His eyebrows skyrocketed toward the tendrils of hair hanging down out of his hood. “One night…”
She gave him a look, a pursing of her lips that said stop playing around. “Six years of sexual tension. I think it’s time we did something about it, or it’s going to drive us both nuts.”
Some of that anger melted off his face, the hint of a smile returning. He shoved his hood back and rubbed a palm over the back of his head. He’d gotten a haircut, something she’d missed before when she was too busy drooling over his body. The sides had been shorn to a soft buzz-cut she wanted to touch, to feel the baby-soft bristles on her fingertips. His voice was low when he finally replied, “Is that what you want?”
Brilliant green eyes were trained on her, intense and sharp and overwhelming. The skin on Jamie’s neck tingled with awareness. Time to ante up.
“Yes,” she said. “But just a night. To get it out of our systems.”
Dean chuckled. “You think one night would get me out of your system?” He folded his arms again and smirked, his grin wolfish. “It would take a lot more than that, honey.”
He was being the legendary Dean Trescott now, seductive powers out in full force. Jamie pushed past it, wanting to see her friend behind the pretty packaging.
The very pretty packaging. Guh.
“Yeah, yeah. You’re great in bed. I know.” She rolled her eyes. Smug bastard. “I’d only want to do it if I knew it wouldn’t be a problem, like you said, and then go back to normal after.”
It was empowering—finally putting it out there, saying what she wanted, especially with the caveat that she planned to put a stopper in things after she’d gotten it. Dean stared at her, his gaze quiet and pensive. His sweatshirt was only partially zipped. His chest peeked out from beneath gray cotton. He really was staggeringly handsome. Jamie’s pulse pounded.
“I have to go out of town on Friday,” he said. “New Hampshire. An errand for the business.” He fixed his eyes on her lips, lingering there before trailing back up to her face. Jamie could feel the memory of his mouth on hers, the heat. Her tongue slicked over her top lip. “You could come with me.”
She quirked up a brow. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. There’s a car show out there I wanted to hit. I was going to drag Connor with me, but two nights in a hotel with you could be a lot more fun.”
Desire shot through her like lightning, hot and needy. “A whole weekend, huh?”
He nodded. Slowly. “We get it out of our systems, then come back home and leave it all behind us.”
A grin washed over her face. “What happens in New Hampshire stays in New Hampshire?”
He laughed. The husky sound put Jamie’s entire body on lockdown, her breathing going fast and shallow.
“Exactly.” Dean hooked one finger into each of her belt loops and pulled her against him. Their lower bodies collided. “Two days. Nothing held back. Everything we want. Just forty-eight hours of my hands in your hair and you stripped down to nothing.”
Jamie’s mouth dropped open in a sudden gasp. Her hips rolled without her permission.
His gaze flicked down to her waist. “That was pretty.”
Her cheeks flushed. She ducked her face down. It was hard to keep eye contact under his white-hot scrutiny.
Dean wasn’t having it. He brought one hand up, took a strand of her curls between two fingers and tugged on it twice. Her eyes snapped to his, her body suddenly stretched tight like a too-taut rubber band. Dean smirked.
“I know what flips your switch, Jamie, and I’m going to trip it over and over again. I’m going to find all those spots I found years ago, and watch you shiver when I touch them. Kiss them. Lick them. I’m going to make you come so hard you forget your own goddamn name.”
It’s giveaway time!
I’ve got not one, but two giveaways going on! Today I’m offering:
1) a digital copy of The Hierarchy of Needs from the e-retailer of your choice! For a chance to win, let me know in the comments if you’ve had a “what happens in Vegas” type of weekend, and where it was! (Any additional info you want to share is a bonus. ;-) )
2) a rare, printed, signed copy of the book that started it all, The Duality Principle, and some Portland Rebels series swag! For a chance to win, go like my Facebook page and/or follow me on Twitter, then come back here and post in the comments what number like/follower you are!
Two winners will be chosen at random tomorrow, July 10th, at 10:00 pm EST!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
And now for some Smutketeer Q&A with the Portland Rebels heroes and best friends, Dean and Connor!
Okay guys, here goes.
Question 1: What’s your idea of a romantic evening?
Dean: *smirks* Jamie, a six pack and the back of my truck.
Connor: Dude. That’s not romantic.
Dean: Says who?
Connor: *rolls his eyes* Dinner at one of those nice beachfront open air restaurants with Gabby, then a walk along the ocean after dark.
Dean: *coughs* Sexagainstthelifeguardstand *coughs*
Connor: Shut up.
Q: Vanilla or chocolate?
Connor: Vanilla. But…only when it comes to ice cream. *grins*
Dean: Too much information, my friend. T. M. I.
Q: What’s the most embarrassing sex story you’re willing to tell?
Dean: *points to Connor* He screwed the sheriff’s daughter in the back of the old man’s cruiser.
Connor: Thanks, man. That’s not exactly embarrassing though.
Dean: No, it’s more embarrassing that your grandma found your porn stash. But that’s not sex.
Connor: Can we move to the next question, please?
Q: Boxers, briefs or commando?
Dean: You feel like checking?
Connor: No, they don’t. Boxers.
Q: Beer, or a girly drink with an umbrella?
Connor: *looks at Dean* Are they seriously asking us this?
Dean: *ignores Connor* Beer for me. Girly drink with a huge ass umbrella for him.
Connor: I hate you.
Rebecca Grace Allen holds a Bachelor of Arts in English with a double concentration in Creative Writing and Literary Comparison, as well as a Master of Science in Elementary Education, both of which seemed like good ideas at the time. After stumbling through careers in entertainment, publishing, law and teaching, she’s returned to her first love: writing. A self-admitted caffeine addict and gym rat, she currently lives in upstate New York with her husband, two parakeets, and a cat with a very unusual foot fetish.
Good morning, and thanks for having me on the Smutketeers :) Today I’m talking about my latest release, ENFORCER’S HEART, which is the third in the Stratton Wolves series.
In paranormal romance a lot of stories tend to focus on love at first sight and a wolf finding his mate and knowing, instantly, that she’s the one for him. Riley, the hero from Enforcer’s Heart, is a little different. He’s already had his happily never after and doesn’t want anything to do with mating again. Until he meets curvy Ce, a sexy cop who got bitten on the day she didn’t take her anti-furry pills. He wants her, but doesn’t want her all at the same time. Exploring a different angle on a werewolf love story was a lot of fun, and I hope you’ll love reading about Ce and Riley as much as I liked writing them. So, for you today, I have an exclusive excerpt and a contest for you! (Scroll down and enter for a chance to win a $20 ARe Gift Certificate)
What’s worse than getting bitten by a werewolf? Not taking your anti-furball pills and then getting bitten by a werewolf. Which, FYI, sucks.
Called to investigate a midnight break in, Detective Carla ‘Ce’ Callahan doesn’t expect to come face to snout with a pissed off werewolf. And she’s all outta silver bullets. But hey, she still manages to hold her own, even if she does get a bite on the ass for her trouble. Now she’s in werewolf custody until the full moon while they wait for an answer to a very important question. Will she shift? Or won’t she?
Doesn’t really matter when she meets the hot and sexy enforcer for the pack… Looking at him, she thinks she could get used to the furry side of life. Especially when the guy has an ass like that. She wants a tiny nibble…
Riley Copeland’s life sucks. The woman he loved and brought over to the lycan way of life revels in trying to get him killed and his pack alpha seems to think he’s some kind of furry babysitter. He’s been forced to look after a bitten newbie until she turns–or doesn’t. And she’s a cop, no less. Great. Just freaking great. But that ass of hers… He just wants a tiny nibble…
Of course, there’s someone out there that thinks it’d be really great if she was six feet under. Now she’s on the run and the chase is on. Ce may get away, but Riley is gonna catch her… and her heart.
He looped a towel around his shoulders and made his way back to the house. As soon as he set foot through the door, he froze. Scent assaulted him. Steam and shower gel, the smell of a female’s need and the sweet aroma of her release.
His wolf howled with rage at missing such a treat, and the emotion flowed through him like a tidal wave, stripping his control and restraint. With a snarl he tore through the house, taking the steps two at a time to arrive on the landing at the same moment she stepped into the hallway.
She jumped, a gasp on her lips at his sudden appearance. “Riley! Sorry, you scared me.”
“Really?” he growled, stalking forward. First, she got herself off in the shower, leaving the perfume of her release in the air to torment him and then she tortured him by wrapping that luscious body of hers in a skimpy towel that strained as it struggled to contain her ample bust. His mouth watered at the thought of stripping it from her, releasing her tits and tasting the delectable treat of her nipples.
She backed up, eyes wide, until her back hit the wall. He forestalled further flight by planting a hand either side of her head, trapping her.
“Riley? W-what’s wrong?” she asked, meeting his eyes squarely and doing her best to hide her fear. But it was there, in the quiver of her lip. Instantly, he felt like a dick for scaring her, but not enough to let her go.
“You. Getting off. In my shower,” he ground out, leaning down to run his nose along her throat. To his pleasure, she tilted her head to allow him better access. A submissive gesture, even as she shivered in the sudden chill after the heat of the bathroom.
“You think I wouldn’t smell it? Wolf, remember? Male wolf…” The growl escaped before he could stop it and she jumped. He was a fucking asshole but couldn’t help himself. “There’s nothing about you I can’t scent.”
We had an amazing time at the RT Booklovers Convention this year, as always, but it was even more special because we got to meet so many of our Smutkedettes and new author, blogger and reader friends! We are all still exhausted and a li’l weepy at leaving everyone behind. But the amazing RG put together a video of our trip to see Pitch Perfect 2 on opening night! We had three buses full of people, there was singing on the way there and the way back, the Cups song, terrible renditions of songs from Pitch Perfect 1, laughing and crying during the movie, and possibly one of the best nights of our lives! So, without further ado (which is hard for me-I’m a talker!), I give you RG’s video of awesomeness! And our plea to post RT pics all over Facebook or link us to pics in your comments here. Love our Smutkedettes! Miss you all!