Excerpt & Giveaway! Wrecked, Axle Alley Vipers #3 by Sherilee Gray

He’s driving her crazy… Piper West is finally on her own, and it’s time to get crazy. Except that her overprotective big bro has enlisted his ex-cop best friend to keep an eye on his baby sister. With every move monitored and reported back, Piper’s life has gone from “going crazy” to “being driven crazy.” But a searing-hot kiss with her sexy and scarred watchdog is just the game-changer she needs… Cole Black owes Piper’s brother big-time, but there’s nothing easy about his new assignment. Piper is all feisty sexiness and curves meant to tempt a man beyond reason, and Cole can’t stop himself. Now he’s caught up in a hunger like nothing he’s ever known, and he can’t get enough… Even if Piper’s the one girl he’s not allowed to have.

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Cole moved to his kitchen window and froze, hands gripping the edge of the bench hard enough to make the Formica groan. Piper stood in her yard, garden hose turned on, aiming the jet of water at herself.

But if you want me, for anything, you know where I am. “Shit.” Had she really meant what he thought she did? Or was she thinking more along the lines of a neighborly cup of sugar? Fuck. He couldn’t allow himself to believe it. Believe that shy, sexy, little Piper West—the woman of his dreams—had just invited him into her bed. His head might actually explode if he did.

He swallowed hard, gaze following the water’s trajectory. The way it sluiced over her neck and shoulders, her arms, soaking into her shirt and shorts, gathering at the apex of her thighs and down her legs, making her skin glisten.

Not just my goddamn head.

Groaning, he licked his lips, like he already had her salty, sweet taste on his tongue.

Jesus.

Was she doing it on purpose? Was she trying to kill him? Because that’s what it felt like. His heart smacked around in his chest so damn fast, so hard, the possibility of having a heart attack wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. And his dick…shit. He’d never been so hard.

Was that…

Motherfucker.

Even from this distance, he could see her nipples pebbled and hard, straining against her tank as the cool water ran over her. He wanted to peel her wet clothes off, lick every inch of her smooth skin. See if she was wet anywhere else. See more than the tops of those succulent little nipples.

Finally, she turned off the hose and dropped it to the ground. Gripping the front of her shirt she wrung out the excess water, giving him an enticing glimpse of her smooth, rounded belly. She was walking back to the front of her house when she turned toward him, eyes locking with his.

“Goddammit.” He needed to move away from the window, now, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from her. He stayed where he was, watching until she disappeared into her house.

Sherilee Gray writes sexy, edgy contemporary and paranormal romance. Stories full of heat and high emotion, following stubborn characters as they fight against the odds… and their happily ever after. She’s a kiwi girl and lives in beautiful NZ with her husband and their two children. When not writing or fueling her voracious book addiction, she can be found dreaming of far off places with a mug of tea in one hand and a bar of Cadburys Rocky Road chocolate in the other. 

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Ink & Lies by S.L. Jennings

From International Best Selling Romance Novelist, Hope Hughes, comes a gripping, heartfelt tale of two lovers, fighting for the freedom to…

No. Scratch that. Too cheesy.

…two people, torn apart by the tumultuous tides of life, only to discover refuge in…

WTF? What does that even mean? DELETE.

…two people, confused as shit as to where they should be and who they should love and none of this means a damn thing because it’s all lies!

Lies.

I’m not Hope Hughes. I’m not some fierce woman romance machine. Hell, I’m not even a woman. 

I’m a liar. 

And while I refuse to believe my own BS, deceit masked in heartfelt phrases of love and devotion, I want to make her believe them. Because maybe—just maybe—if she can find the soul within my words, she’ll also be able to find the truth scribbled on my heart. 

You see, I once lived for the perfect plot twist.

I just never expected to actually live it.

This is my story. Well, maybe her story. I just wish I could make it our story.

The one I’m still writing.

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“Yeah, but…” Her eyes grow wide and glossy as she tries to sift through all the reasons why that theory shouldn’t apply to her. In the end, she relies on her heart. “You said I wasn’t like those other women…that those other women weren’t me.”

I should tell her she’s right. I should put her out of her misery and reassure her that the last ten years were as real and meaningful to me as they were for her. That even though I may sling gift-wrapped bullshit for the general public, only she knows the true, honest parts of my heart. But with my tongue possessed by the taste of her rejection, I play the petty card, and do just the opposite.

“I guess I was wrong, especially considering yesterday’s events. Maybe you’re no different from them. And maybe you were right about me…that I do sabotage with sex to keep people at arm’s length. Because in the end, that’s all I want anyway, right?”

“You don’t mean that.”

I nod. “Yeah. I do.”

“So what are you saying?” The hurt is so thick in her throat that I can barely hear the words.

I suck in a breath, and scrub a hand over my forehead. “You were right about me. About us. We shouldn’t have done…what we did. And we can’t move on and pretend that it didn’t change us. What’s done is done.”

“I agree,” she nods, with a tinge of hope in her voice.

“So, maybe we should just see this for what it is—the end. You’re starting your life with Joshua and moving away, and I’m going on with mine.”

“Wait, August. No, that’s not—”

“You didn’t actually think we’d be able to keep this up, did you? What, you thought we’d turn out to be the modern day Cathy and Heathcliff? I’m not some swoony, literary hero, Fi. I’m not here to rescue you from your shitty love life that stems from your shitty childhood.”

“I never said you were—”

I’m rambling, spewing verbal diarrhea all over her blue cashmere, but I can’t stop. I can’t shut off the bile that has been choking me since this morning when she disclosed her impending nuptials. “You have Joshua. He’s the one you chose. He’s the one you want. You made that perfectly clear. So what the fuck do you need with me?”

“I thought we were friends, August. I thought you and me were—”

“Well, I guess you were wrong. Friends don’t fuck each other and then five minutes later get engaged. And why would you want to be friends with some empty, misogynistic prick like me anyway?”

“I-I didn’t mean,” her voice cracks, and the first tear escapes. She quickly dashes it away, refusing to let me play witness to her weakness. But I’ve already seen it. I share that very same weakness that has her bottom lip trembling. I’m just too much of a coward to show it.

“Look, I’m sorry. I think we just need a break.”

“A break. Yes,” she nods, dashing away tears. “You’re right. We both said things we shouldn’t have. Let’s just take a few days to…”

“No. A break from this,” I clarify, gesturing between us. “From us. This isn’t working anymore.”

“You’re being melodramatic, August. We’ve had fights before. We’ve said things we didn’t mean, and we always were able to work it out.”

I shake my head and look away, refusing to acknowledge the dejection on her face. “But I meant everything I said.”

S.L. Jennings is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance, reality TV junkie, obsessive coffee drinker and collector of crazy.

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Excerpt, Character Interview & Giveaway! The Promise, Sirius Wolves #4 by Victoria Sue

The time of Anubis is at hand. Working together against him, the goddess Sirius and the god Orion have helped mankind prepare by uniting Blaze, Conner, Darric, and Aden to fight the evil in the world. But in the war to come, the werewolves will need more allies, and this will extend beyond werewolf kind.

Marcus, an ex-Marine who’d lost both his legs in a landmine accident, is now Human Liaison Officer for Blaze's pack. Having lost his lover too when the man couldn’t bear to live with a cripple, the last thing he expected was that he'd fall in love again, let alone with the werewolf Kellan who seemed to be universally hated by the pack.

The Winter Circle is moving, and a psychopathic pastor has abducted Nate, one of the wolves from Hunter's pack. For once the wolves cannot rescue him — it has to be a human — and now Marcus must save the wolves from their biggest threat: one of their own.

If Marcus succeeds, he will bring in a new era in mankind’s battle against the power of evil, starting with a simple promise and ultimately mending four broken hearts.

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Marcus inhaled appreciatively as he eventually made it to the top of the steps. He loved Aden’s pack house. The upstairs floor was Aden’s and his mates’ living quarters. He was incredibly lucky to be here, and one of the only humans who had been trusted to live with werewolves. Not just any werewolves, thought Marcus with a grin at his own joke. Blaze, Conner, and Darric were the Supreme Alpha triad who had been blessed by the goddess Sirius when they were born over seven hundred years ago. Marcus grinned to himself — didn’t that just roll off the tongue! It was one of those things that even when he’d seen it with his own eyes — first with his buddy in the army, and then here — it was still a truly fucking incredible thing. Werewolves. Thinking of every film in the movies, none of them came even close to how amazing it was, and how goddam lucky he was to be here.

It had only been because of his dad’s friend, Bud Mason, that he’d gotten this gig in the first place. Marcus was a newly washed up Marine with two bum legs. Career finished. Then Bud — Senator Mason — had called him. He knew Marcus was aware of werewolves. Marcus and his unit had been out on patrol, eyes on a swivel as always, but it had been quiet for days. Craig was scouting up front where he liked to be and a sniper had taken him out first. 

Marcus had thought he was done for, until the most incredible thing Marcus had ever seen happened in front of his eyes. Craig shifted into a wolf as he lay on the ground.

Marcus had kept his cool, and even though the firefight grew up in earnest, and had pulled Craig to safety. Craig had later explained everything — how werewolves were known about by the government, but not in the main by the general public; that he had shifted because when injured it’s a natural thing for wolf shifters to heal themselves. Marcus had been enthralled. Unfortunately, Craig had been sent home by panicked generals who didn’t realize it wasn’t Craig’s training so much as his incredibly strong shifter sense of smell that was locating the landmines and keeping their asses safe.

The next day after Craig had gone, their Humvee rolled straight over one. Three Marines lost their lives and Marcus lost his legs. The left one above the knee and the right below.

A few of the wolves glanced up smiling as Marcus limped into the café area at the front of the pack house. Friendly guys, and girls. Lilly greeted him. “Morning, Alpha.”

Marcus had wanted to die of embarrassment when she’d first called him that. Apart from the obvious fact he was a human, he was pretty sure it was against some wolf protocol or something. In fact, Ricoh was standing with Aden one of the first times last year when Lilly had called him that, and he’d seen the shock on Ricoh’s face.

Aden though had explained Lilly meant it as a mark of respect as Marcus had ended up being one of their biggest supporters, and Blaze certainly didn’t mind. Marcus supposed if it didn’t offend their Supreme Alpha, he didn’t need to get all bent out of shape about it.

Everyone, meet Kellan!

What do you find attractive in a man? “Any man or one of my men?” 

(Kellan blushes) “If I’m honest it was never about looks. I just wanted someone that would see past all the things that had gone wrong. All the mistakes I made.”

The first thing that went through your head when you saw Marcus?

“Seeing him wasn’t the first thing that registered. You’ve heard of a werewolf’s strong sense of smell? I was trying to look at the floor when we met. Trying to be as invisible as I could as usual. Then I caught a whiff of this amazing scent of honey. Like when it melts on hot bread? I told Marcus that eventually, I don’t think he thought it was manly enough for him.” (Kellan winks)

Do you think you’ll insist the author visits you again?

“She has to! We’re going to need another book – maybe another two. I mean there’s four of us and we have all sorts of issues to work through. Then there’s the terrorists. And we still have to deal with – ” (Kellan slaps his hand over his mouth) “Crap, I forgot not everyone’s read the book!”

Before you met Marcus, what was your ideal man?

“Honestly? I didn’t have one. I’d been so far in the closet, Lilly thought I was trying to find Narnia. (She told me she read that on facebook – she thinks she’s funny)” *rolls eyes*

You’re going out for dinner. What’s your favorite food?

“Anything Marcus wants to feed me. And by feed me, I mean feed me with his fingers. There’s this scene in the next book…whoops, sorry – I’m sworn to secrecy.”

Victoria Sue has loved books for as long as she can remember. Books were always what pocket money went on and what usually Father Christmas brought. When she ran out of her kids' adventure stories, she would go raid her mom's. By the age of eight she was devouring classics like Little Women, and fell in love with love stories.

She especially loves writing gay romance because as far as she’s concerned the only thing better than one hot guy, is two of them.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! The Prophecy of Shadows, Elementals #1 by Michelle Madow

Filled with magic, thrilling adventure, and sweet romance, Elementals: The Prophecy of Shadows is the first in a new series that fans of Percy Jackson and The Secret Circle will love!

When Nicole Cassidy moves from sunny Georgia to gloomy New England, the last thing she expects is to learn that her homeroom is a cover for a secret coven of witches. Even more surprisingly … she’s apparently a witch herself. Despite doubts about her newfound abilities, Nicole is welcomed into this ancient circle of witches and is bedazzled by their powers—and, to her dismay, by Blake—the school’s notorious bad-boy.

Girls who get close to Blake wind up hurt. His girlfriend Danielle will do anything to keep them away, even if she must resort to using dark magic. But the chemistry between Blake and Nicole is undeniable, and despite wanting to protect Nicole from Danielle’s wrath, he finds it impossible to keep his distance.

When the Olympian Comet shoots through the sky for the first time in three thousand years, Nicole, Blake, Danielle, and two others in their homeroom are gifted with mysterious powers. But the comet has another effect—it opens the portal to the prison world that has contained the Titans for centuries. After an ancient monster escapes and attacks Nicole and Blake, it’s up to them and the others to follow the clues from a cryptic prophecy so that they can save their town … and possibly the world.

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“Run!” Blake yelled, grabbing my arm and pulling me off the merry-go-round. 

It spun under our weight, and I held onto the metal bars, pushing off them to leap over the edge. The cedar chips on the ground cushioned my landing. The car was behind us, which would mean running towards the monstrous hound, so I bolted for the playground, hurrying up a ladder of rubber tires that led to the closest platform. Blake followed close behind. The second he was up he took the lighter out of his pocket and aimed a blue fireball at the tires. They melted to the ground seconds before the hound reached them. 

It looked up at us and growled—a low, menacing sound that if I spoke dog I would have assumed meant “I’m going to have you for dinner”—and tried to jump onto the platform. It missed by only a few inches. 

Blake flicked on his lighter and threw a fireball at its chest, but the hound jumped to the side to get out of the way. It turned all four of its eyes up at us, one head letting out a deep roar as the other snapped its teeth together, taking bites out of the air. 

My hands shook, and I gripped one of the log posts behind me for support. “Have you learned how to fight these things in homeroom?” I asked Blake, my voice rising in panic. 

He threw another fireball, and it missed the hound again. “No,” he snapped, the flames lighting up his face. “Fighting legendary creatures isn’t on the syllabus.” 

“Maybe it should be,” I said as he launched another ball of fire, hitting the hound on its front paw. Both of its heads yelped in pain. The scorpion tail lowered between its legs, and it growled again before turning away from us and running around the side of the playground, woodchips flying behind it as it gained speed. 

My heart pounded, and I looked around to figure how to get off the platform. The exit was a slide that dropped off at the monkey bars. I could get down and run to the car, but I didn’t know where the hound was, and leaving the platform could give it the perfect opportunity to pounce. 

Then the hound growled again. I turned around, spotting it clamoring up a ladder of logs that led to a nearby platform. Only a wobbly bridge separated that platform from our own. My entire body shook, and I moved closer to Blake, grabbing his arm for support. 

The hound reached the top of the platform, and its glowing eyes narrowed, ready to attack.

Not having anywhere else to go, I launched myself down the slide and hurried to the monkey bars, climbing up the ladder and hoisting myself on top of them. Gripping the sides, I crawled to the center bar, but the ground spun beneath me, my lungs tightening as I looked down. I had to take a few deep breaths to steady myself. A six-foot fall wasn’t deadly. Now wasn’t the time to let my fear of heights get to me. 

Blake scrambled behind me, and I turned around to make sure he wasn’t hurt. Sweat dripped down the sides of his face from the flames, but other than that he looked okay. He took his lighter out again, holding it up in preparation to create another fireball. 

I looked back at the hound in time to see it run along the bridge and hurl itself towards us. It bared its teeth as it flew through the air, its arms outstretched as it came closer to the monkey bars. But it must not have had enough force behind the jump, because it fell to the ground with a loud thump. It stood and shook the woodchips off its fur, a low growl coming from somewhere deep in its throat as it turned its heads up to look at us. 

Before I could say anything to Blake about how completely screwed we were, he threw two balls of fire towards the hound, hitting both of its faces. It howled and collapsed, whimpering as it buried its snouts in its paws. The smell of burnt skin filled the air. My stomach swirled with nausea, and I lifted a hand to my nose to block out the smell.

Only a few seconds passed before it stood up again. The fur on its faces had changed into a charred grey. Its yellow eyes glowed brighter now, both snouts chomping madly in the air, strings of saliva dripping to the ground as it waited to devour whichever one of us lost our balance first.

Michelle Madow grew up in Baltimore, graduated Rollins College in Orlando, and now lives in Boca Raton, Florida. She wrote her first book in her junior year of college, and has been writing novels since. Some of her favorite things are: reading, pizza, traveling, shopping, time travel, Broadway musicals, and spending time with friends and family. Michelle has toured across America to promote her books and to encourage high school students to embrace reading and writing. Someday, she hopes to travel the world for a year on a cruise ship.

To get instant updates about Michelle's new books, subscribe to her newsletter and follow her on Amazon!

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Release Day Blitz! Ghosts, The Power of Zero #2 by Jackie Keswick

 Jack Horwood doesn’t do families. Or Christmas. From the time his mother sold him to her pimp to the moment he walked out on the man he loved, Christmas has always been about change and painful choices. This year seems no different. Helping Daniel and Nico recover from their imprisonment and hunting down those responsible puts Jack in a frame of mind he doesn’t want to inflict on anyone. Least of all Gareth and the tentative relationship they’ve started to rebuild.

But Gareth, for whom Christmas is all about new beginnings, won’t let Jack take the easy way out. He makes him face his ghosts instead. Even when said ghosts invade their bedroom. When Daniel’s parents are found, Jack is determined to settle the matter without involving Daniel at all. But fate decrees otherwise, and it’s Gareth who helps him finally understand that the strongest bonds are those forged together. Once he gets that, Jack can step up and make a decision designed to lay his ghosts to rest—for good. 

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You don’t greet your new boss dressed like an underage rent boy. But when Jack Horwood—ace hacker and ex-MI6 operative—opens the door to Gareth Flynn, he's too busy to worry over details like that. And anyway, his potential new boss is his former Commanding Officer – the same guy Jack has had a crush on since he was seventeen. So he should understand, right?

When he applied for the job in Nancarrow Mining's corporate security division, Jack had hoped for peaceful days repelling cyber attacks. Maybe a bit of corporate espionage on the side. His plans didn't include rescuing abused children, hunting pimps, or dealing with his overly protective and hot-as-hell boss, Gareth Flynn. Walking away is not an option. Jack never takes the easy way out. More than that, meeting Gareth raises old ghosts that Jack needs to put to rest. Rescuing kids. Taking risks. Saving the day. Jack can do all that – but deciding what to do about his attraction to Gareth isn’t the sort of cloak-and-dagger game Jack plays well. Yet Gareth, strong and smart and always on hand when needed, might be Jack’s salvation. 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurrent dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop. Jackie loves stories about unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who don’t follow the rules when those rules are stupid. She has a thing for green eyes and tight cyclist’s butts and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat. And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops. 

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Stardust Destiny by Nazarea Andrews

The face that launched a thousand ships...

I grew up knowing my destiny. Daddy pounded it in my head, my brother repeated it every day of my life. I was the only daughter of the Orsi crime syndicate, the pretty prize that would bring peace. My one job was to marry Callum Sheehan, the vicious head of the Irish mob in Chicago. 

I never questioned my future–until I saw him.

The man who was never meant to love her…

I wasn’t going to the wedding. It’s shit that my brother does, things our father requires of the heir of the Sosa cartel. Not me. I’m the black sheep, the one Mama spoiled, and my father loves, but without the pressure of expectation. But Sheehan is too big a deal for me to blow off.

And then I see her.

The love that started a war…

She isn’t mine. She will never be mine. I watch her fall apart when she thinks no one is watching. I watch her marry another man. I watch her bravery. And I don’t care who she belongs to or that it will start a war between our families.

I will damn us both to possess her, and burn down the world to keep her.

A modern erotic retelling of Helen of Troy, and the epic love that brought an empire to its knees.

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I step onto the roof, and pull out a cigarette. The sun has dropped, and the wind is ripping along, and even in the middle of summer, it’s cold. 

“Fuck,” I mutter, trying to light the damn cigarette. 

A dainty hand reaches out and lifts a lit cherry to my cigarette and I pull on it, smiling my thanks when it catches and nicotine and smoke flood my lungs. 

I grin down at her, and freeze.

The girl in front of me is gorgeous. 

Not the passé beauty that I fall into bed with so often. She’s small, almost a head shorter than me, with delectable curves, and sun-warm skin that begs to be touched. Long golden brown hair tumbles to the middle of her back in loose, wind tousled curls. 

But it’s her little smirk, and her eyes. Ancient and wide, the deep blue of the ocean when the water is getting deep and dangerous and just as secretive, as she grins at me, and lifts that half smoked cigarette. 

Her lips hold it in place as she pulls her hair back in a loose, messy pony tail and I want to feel them. The lips. 

“Didn’t think anyone else was stupid enough to come up here. It’s called the windy city for a reason,” she says, and I blink at her. 

“You’re out here.” I point out. She shrugs and makes a tiny face, all wrinkled nose and scrunched eyes. It’s not the kind of calculated sexy pout so many girls practice. It’s too goofy to be anything but real, and I’m fascinated that any girl could be so goofy without worrying about the effect it has on her chances of landing in my bed. 

“I’m crazy. Obviously,” she says, deadpan, and I laugh, a startled noise. She grins and turns away, lifting her cigarette again. I watch her sidelong as we smoke and she stares out at the other buildings. 

“You know it’s creeper behavior to stare, right?” she says, a smile in her voice.

Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Accidentally In Love With The Biker, What Happens In Vegas #13 by Teri Anne Stanley

Aspiring writer Kelli Dalton needs a man, and fast. When she’s rear-ended by a sexy-as-sin biker on the way to a Vegas romance readers convention, she sees her chance. If he’ll pose as her fake boyfriend long enough to impress a bestselling author, Kelli has a shot at saving the bookstore for underprivileged kids she runs back home. Quinn Anderson doesn’t know what to make of the cute little writer who stirs his heart and his libido, but he does know he wants to get better acquainted. And if that means keeping up their sexy ruse all week, he’s game. Quinn knows girl like Kelli deserves someone with a secure future to help with her store, not a guy struggling to turn a profit on his chopper shop. But if his motorcycle designs win the big Vegas competition, he’ll have enough prize money to fund his dreams…and hers.

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Kellie was trying to figure out how to politely excuse Quinn for the night without sinking to the floor, wrapping herself around his knees, and begging him to stay and hang out with her when the first sex sounds came through the hotel walls.

They were not soft, gentle gasps of pleasure. No, these were groans and moans worthy of the Haunted Mansion at Disney World.

She was mortified. Here was this nice guy—a complete stranger who had sacrificed his entire evening to do her a favor—and he was trapped in a hotel room listening to people have sex. The fact that it was people she knew made it so much more horrifying. 

So, this was weird. What now? “I guess they’re busy enough—you could probably escape, if you want.”

But then he gave that grin—a grin she bet had gotten Quinn into, and out of, an awful lot of trouble in his youth—and said, “No way. I bet we can have louder, better sex.”

Her whole body flushed at the thought, completely on board with the idea, but her brain was still engaged enough to recognize that she barely knew this man.

Looking right into her eyes, he let out a bellow like a wounded bull. This was followed by a deep, rumbling, “Oh, Kellie, baby. I have been waiting for this forever.”

She nearly choked on the giggles that erupted. 

“Yeah? You like that, don’t you?” he said—loudly—motioning her toward the bed. He sat down, hard, onto the mattress, bouncing the box springs enough to creak.

She jumped on next to him and they alternated bounces, making sounds that she prayed she never really made during sex. Although if sex with Quinn was even half as good as it seemed like it might be, she didn’t care what she sounded like or who would hear her.

“Are you ready for me, baby? Are you ready for this? Do you want this?”

“Oh, yes, Quinn. Give it to me. Let me see that big—” She stopped and stared at him. And looked at his crotch—a totally involuntary action. From what she could tell, he wasn’t completely unaffected by their little game.

And he’d seen her look. Well, the hell with it. What happened in Vegas…

“Give me that big porn star cock, you stud,” she yelled.“Oh my God, yes. Oh, I need lube! You’re bigger than my vibrator.”

Quinn cracked up, rolling over on the mattress, covering his face with the pillow to stifle his laughter.

But then he was back in the game. He turned and grabbed the headboard and began slamming it into the wall at a rate of about a million thrusts per second. 

Watching the muscles of his arm work, she couldn’t help but imagine the muscles of his ass and thighs straining to pump into her and figured she probably wouldn’t need lube if the real thing was coming at her even a quarter that hard and fast. Just the idea was making her feel a little slippery.

But as impressive as Quinn was, Kellie wasn’t going to let him be the master of her domain just yet. She stood on the bed and began to bounce, letting out vigorous “unh, unh, unhhhhhs.”

Quinn turned to watch her and said, “Faster, baby, faster.” Then he leaned back against the headboard with his arms crossed behind his head, legs stretched out on his side of the bed.

So she jumped faster. And higher. And realized that she had on a skirt, and was jumping up and down right above a hot guy that she barely knew, and he was—yes, he was looking up her skirt. When he wasn’t watching her boobs bounce.

And from the looks of things below his belt, he was enjoying the show.

Recognition caused her to lose her footing. One foot slipped off the bed, and with a cry she flew forward—toward Quinn’s reclining self, landing on him—and coming to rest with her face inches from his.

“Hi,” he said, after he caught his breath.

“Uh, hi.”

There was silence next door.

“Think we impressed your friends with our virility?”

“Oh, yeah.” Kellie was impressed with the hot, hard body beneath hers. Her legs were intertwined with his and his leg pressed against the hem of her skirt. His thigh wasn’t quite all the way between hers, but with a wiggle or two—She froze. The air-conditioning wafted over her slightly sweaty skin, cooling everything that wasn’t touching Quinn. 

Her hands rested on his solid shoulders, and he had one palm on her waist and one on the back of her thigh, where her knee was bent outward in that almost-straddle position. She was in a hotel room staring into the mesmerizing eyes of a stranger in a very compromising position. If he wasn’t honorable…or if she wasn’t— And she was beginning to doubt her good-girl status.

He let her go just as she squirmed off him and to her side.

Could you say awkward?

“So. In your romance-land fake boyfriend world, do I roll over and go to sleep now that my caveman requirements have been met or do I pretend to want to cuddle, or what?”

Teri Anne Stanley began her writing career with scientific articles—followed by a three-ingredient recipe column, but wasn’t allowed to write sex scenes for them—so now she writes fun, sexy romance filled love, angst and nekkid parts. She’s also worked as a fashion designer for female body builders and a sex therapist for rats. In her spare time, she is a neuroscience research assistant. Along with a variety of teenagers and dogs, she and Mr. Stanley live just outside of Sugartit, which is—honest to God—between Beaverlick, and Rabbit Hash, Kentucky. 

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