Cover Reveal, Excerpt & Giveaway! Model Citizen by Lissa Kasey

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Oliver “Ollie” Petroskovic’s life as an international supermodel was heading in the right direction. He worked part-time for his brother at his detective agency—Petroskovic Haven Investigations—and had just bought his dream house. But all that changed when he found his brother dead, a victim of PTSD-induced suicide. 

Almost a year later, Ollie is trying to keep his brother’s business afloat, but can’t get his PI license. Then his brother’s best friend, Kade Alme, shows up, fresh from the battlefield after a close brush with death. Kade is looking for a new life, in more ways than one, and with PI license in hand, he’s exactly what Ollie needs to keep PHI running.

When one of Ollie's childhood friends gets in trouble, Ollie feels he has to help. Kade insists on investigating if only to keep Ollie safe. Neither realizes the danger they’re in as someone tries to tear them apart before they can find solid ground together.

Kade pulled up beside a building that had probably never had better days. At least I didn’t immediately recognize it as someplace I used to play. “Call him. Tell him to come down. This doesn’t look like a great place to linger.”

I snorted. Did he miss the gas station with bars on the windows and bullet holes in the side? “You want to see the bad side of Oakland? I can give you a tour later.” I dialed Bob’s number, but the phone just rang and rang. I hung up when it went to voice mail, and tried again. It was just after five

“Okay, maybe he fell asleep or is in the shower or something? Let me run up and check.” The building looked like it had one outside entrance and no secure door. I could pick a lock if I had to but preferred not to do so in broad daylight.

Kade frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

I pulled the Taser and pepper spray out of my bag and held them up. “I spray first, and if that doesn’t stop them, I tase, then run. I’m up on self-defense 101.”

He sighed. “Anything feels even remotely hinky, you come back down immediately.”

“Sure,” I promised as I hopped out of the car. “Who even says hinky anymore?”

I made my way to the door and searched through my phone to find the apartment number. The main door opened into a stairwell dirty enough to double as Pig-Pen’s playhouse. The stench of pot drenched the building. Bob was in 310, which meant he was on the top floor all the way to the left. I followed the brass numbers. The stink of weed made me dizzy. How could people stand it? It was like sweaty socks left in the sun too long. Maybe getting high killed the stink or made you not care about the smell, but I couldn’t imagine enjoying it either way.

I tried to breathe through my mouth, which only made it worse, forcing me to stop twice to cough. Finally arriving at the end of the hall, I knocked on Bob’s door and waited. Nothing. Just an air conditioner running somewhere, or maybe a really noisy fridge.

“Bob?” I called and knocked again. “Robert Wilcoxson?” I dialed his number and could hear the phone ringing inside the apartment, but again no one answered, either the door or the phone. What the hell?

I tried the doorknob to see if it was locked. The door snicked open and swung inward. I hesitated and debated calling Kade for a minute because the whole scenario screamed bad horror movie. But I pushed the door wide, Taser aimed like a gun, finger on the trigger while I clung to the walls, pretending I was SWAT. I had taken official classes on how to operate the Taser. I’d even experienced its sting myself, so I knew I could and would pull the trigger if someone jumped out at me. At least no one was behind the door. The apartment was dark, with all the blinds drawn to keep out the bright California sun and let the shitty air conditioner do its thing.

The counters were piled with dirty dishes and packaged foods. The carpet had seen a couple dozen years and was stained too badly to recognize the original color of the hideous shag. The walls were the dingy white of most apartments with a smoker, though all I could smell was weed. The guy needed to open a window. I was starting to feel lightheaded, but at least it appeared there was no axe murderer ready to jump out at me.

“Bob?”

Still nothing. A glance at the single bedroom proved it was empty and a petri dish of brewing bacteria. Okay, I was a bit of a slob, but crap, never like this. The stench of shit made me gag. Or maybe that was the weed. I’d probably breathed enough of that crap to give myself a buzz for a week.

The bathroom door was slightly ajar. I headed for it just as my phone rang. “What?” I answered, a little annoyed. Didn’t he trust me?

“What’s taking so long? It’s been like ten minutes,” Kade said.

The stink intensified near the bathroom. I pushed the door back, and the smell wafted over me like a living thing. It took a minute to make sense of what I was seeing. Bob—well, presumably Bob—hung from the shower rod. His face was purple, eyes bulged out, and his mouth was contorted in a silent scream, teeth bared in a grimace. He was naked from the waist down, with only a leather harness on top. His dick hung lower than any dick had a right to—past his knees—dark purple and huge, filled with blood.

“Fuck! Oh fuck!” I swore, bile rising in my throat.

I raced from the apartment, barely making it to the hallway before heaving up tea and stomach acid on the puke-green carpet. The phone dug into my palm, but I clung to it like it could somehow erase the memory of the past five minutes of my life. Muffled curses trickled over the line.

Kade appeared a moment later, huffing and out of breath, his limp heavier than normal. He was without his cane, but I couldn’t recall him bringing it with us when we left the office. He wobbled like a picture out of focus. Or maybe that was just me.

“What the fuck? Talk about giving me a heart attack. I thought you said you’d tase and then run. Fuck, Ollie.”

“He’s already dead,” I grumbled at my shoes and heaved a little more. The hallway twisted and turned around me like a multicolored circus tent on a Tilt-A-Whirl.

Kade stepped around me and disappeared into the apartment. He was back seconds later, cursing and dialing his phone. He wrapped an arm around my waist and led me toward the exit. Fresh air had never tasted so sweet as when he dropped me unceremoniously next to my illegally parked VW. Whatever he said to the cops had them arriving in a hurry. Probably a first for the residents around here. I laid my head against the front headlight and shut my eyes. Maybe the swirling would stop.

Lissa Kasey lives in St. Paul, MN, has a Bachelor’s Degree in Creative Writing, and collects Asian Ball Joint Dolls who look like her characters. She has three cats who enjoy waking her up an hour before her alarm every morning and sitting on her lap to help her write. She can often be found at Anime Conventions masquerading as random characters when she's not writing about boy romance.

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Cover Reveal, Excerpt & Giveaway! The Pinch of the Game by Charley Descoteaux

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Being a witch doesn’t mean one can beat the devil forever.

Jeffrey Overton, unemployed IT professional turned poker player, pushes his luck once too often and runs afoul of the host of an illegal card club. The man sent to escort Jeffrey to a “meeting” about his supernatural winning streak arrives at Jeffrey’s crappy North Portland apartment, lock-picking tools in hand and a charm to block Jeffrey’s magick.

Head muscle for said host, Mike Wells, is a Daisy from Daisyville. He isn’t a witch. What he lacks in magickal talent he makes up for in brawn, so he doesn’t expect the guy he’s after to overpower him. But once Mike renders Jeffrey helpless, he’d rather seduce him than bring him in.

Jeffrey and Michael ditch the “meeting” and end up hunting some of the same people they ran from, trying to get Jeffrey back into his own body. And that’s only part of the adventure. The pair travel halfway across the country on the quietest road trip in history and find missing people, empire-building witches, and maybe even the families they’d both thought lost to them.

If Sal had sent someone after me, a short trip up to Seattle might be a good idea, maybe even BC. That called for some new clothes, so I grabbed my battered gym bag—my quick escape kit—and was almost home free when the kitchen door burst open. It would’ve been dumb to turn off the light when the goomba first went to work on the lock—I can’t see any better in the dark than your average Daisy, not when I’m blocked. Once that massive body filled the doorway, I wished I had. Wished I’d done something.

He hesitated, barely a moment, and I bolted for the front door. He grabbed me before I made it out of the kitchen and pinned both of my arms to my sides. It wouldn’t work, I knew that, but I still tried to burn his hands. All I needed was enough time to—fuck, is he laughing?

“Give it up, pretty boy. You’re blocked.”

The big man pushed me against the wall face-first and pulled both hands behind my back.

“Hey, wait a sec, big guy. Let’s talk about this. I can—”

He pushed me flat against the wall, and the rest of that sentence disappeared in the rush of air he squeezed from my lungs. I couldn’t help being turned on, even though pain and domination usually aren’t my thing. Neither are bears, but underneath the padding he felt nice and solid, leaning full against me. He tightened a plastic zip tie around my wrists with shaking hands. And then he held me there.

Charley Descoteaux has always heard voices. She was relieved to learn they were fictional characters, and started writing when they insisted daydreaming just wasn’t good enough. In exchange, they’ve agreed to let her sleep once in a while. Charley grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area during a drought, and found her true home in the soggy Pacific Northwest. She has survived earthquakes, tornadoes, and floods, but couldn’t make it through one day without stories.

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Book Promo & Excerpt! Lead Me Not, Twisted Love #1 by A. Meredith Walters

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In this dangerously sexy novel from the New York Times bestselling author of Find You in the Dark, a straight-laced college student meets a handsome but enigmatic stranger who lures her into an underground club scene, where she finds it difficult to resist temptation 

Aubrey Duncan understands loss. She knows what rock bottom looks like, and she is determined to crawl back up to the top after the sudden death of her younger sister. She blames herself for her part in the tragedy, convinced that she could have done something, anything, to help her.

In her effort to gain redemption, Aubrey starts fresh at Longwood University and facilitates an addiction support group, hoping she can support someone else in the way she failed her sister. But what she doesn’t count on is an all-consuming fascination with group member Maxx Demelo, a gorgeous, blond, blue-eyed enigma who hides dark secrets behind a carefully constructed mask. He only reveals what he wants others to see. But Aubrey glimpses another Maxx hidden below the surface—a Maxx who is drowning in his own personal hell.

As Aubrey and Maxx develop an attraction too intense to ignore, he pulls her into the dark underbelly of the city club scene, where she is torn by her desire to save him and an inexplicable urge to join him in his downward spiral. Worst of all, she is beginning to love everything she should run away from—a man who threatens to ignite in her a fire that could burn her alive…

I stared harder at the picture, uncomfortable with the odd sense of familiarity I felt. Looking at the woman's graceful yet agonized form, I felt as though I should recognize her.

Bothered by my increasing disquiet, I stood up and walked closer. This was not your typical campus painting of daffodils and laughing students. I had seen this particular kind of art several times before. I leaned in to try to see the details in the poor lighting. And there it was- the tiny patterns on the woman's dress composed of dozens of Xs.

I didn't notice any numbers or words in this picture, though, so I didn't understand what its intent was. It was my understanding that X's paintings held the clues to the location of the club, Compulsion. But this picture seemed to have nothing to do with that.

This was a painting created for some other purpose.

"So what do you think?"

I looked over my shoulder to find Maxx standing behind me. I turned back to the picture, not bothering to answer him. The truth was, my outburst in the group had left me feeling raw and vulnerable, and seeing him so soon after making a gigantic ass of myself was embarrassing.

As he came up beside me, the sleeves of our jackets brushed against each other. Maxx inclined his head toward the painting and asked me again, "Well, what do you think of it?"

I shrugged, not really in the mood for small talk. My pounding head couldn't handle a go-around with the group Romeo. I started to walk away from him when he grabbed hold of my arm.

"Wait, Aubrey. Please." It was that word that did it. Please. It was uttered softly and sincerely. And it held me as fast and surely as if he had put his arms around me.

The New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of Contemporary and Paranormal romance including The Find You in the Dark and Bad Rep series as well as the upcoming stand alone romance, Reclaiming the Sand, and a dark new adult series for Gallery Books.

A. Meredith spent ten years as a counselor for at risk teens and children. First working at a Domestic Violence/Sexual Assault program and then later a program for children with severe emotional and mental health issues. Her former clients and their stories continue to influence every aspect of her writing.

When not writing (or being tortured with all manner of beauty products at the hand of her very imaginative and extremely girly daughter), she is eating chocolate, watching reality television that could rot your brain and reading a smutty novel or two.

A. Meredith is represented by Michelle Johnson with the Inklings Literary Agency.

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Book Spotlight & Giveaway! The Daring Exploits of a Runaway Heiress, Millworth Manor #5 by Victoria Alexander

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To Do:

Swim naked in the moonlight

Play in a high stakes card game

Ride an elephant

Be painted sans clothing.

Take a lover…

Lucy Merryweather has inherited a fortune—and her great-aunt’s list of unfulfilled wishes. What better way to honor her memory than by accomplishing as many of them as possible? And with Lucy’s family an ocean away in New York, nothing stands in her way—if one ignores the private investigator hired to spy on her.

Yet Cameron Effington is infuriatingly difficult to ignore…

As a reporter, Cameron is always looking for a good story. An American heiress running rampant between Millworth Manor and Mayfair is the perfect subject. Not to mention captivating. And extremely kissable. And if Lucy believes he’s a detective? Well, the truth should never get in the way of a good story—or hinder delicious, impetuous passion…

New York Times bestselling author Victoria Alexander was an award-winning television reporter until she discovered fiction was much more fun than real life. She turned to writing full time and has never looked back. Victoria grew up traveling the country as an Air Force brat and is now settled in a very old house in Omaha, Nebraska, with her husband, two allegedly grown children and two bearded collies. She firmly believes housework is a four-letter word, there are no calories in anything eaten standing up, procrastination is an art form, and it's never too soon to panic.

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Diana's Reviews! Hold on You by M.S. Brannon

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“My heart lurches, and the agony throbbing in my side is soon masked by the feeling of uncertainty this moment has brought.” ~ Madison Stone

Life has a way of always keeping you tethered to someone or something in your past. It grabs you, threatening to never let go, and when you eventually attempt to release it completely, you are forced to face it, instead. For Madison and Nate, that is certainly true.

Finishing their senior year, life couldn’t have been better for them. They were young, reckless, spontaneous, and most importantly, they were best friends. However, for Madison, when the future’s path was presented to her, she only understood one notion—escape.

Ten years later, Madison believed she had all she ever wanted. She was convinced she had done everything right by pursuing a life on her own. Then it all began to rapidly fall apart. Nothing was certain anymore. In her mind, everything was lost, leading her back to the very place she had abandoned a decade ago.

For Nate, since the night Madison ran off, life had been the opposite slowly and painfully continuing to unravel around him. Over those ten years, he lost everything he held dear. As he had done time and time before, Nate found himself at the very spot where his pain had all begun, teetering on the edge of moving on or fading away.

Now, as they see all they tried to escape lying before them, Nate and Madison are forced to face the past and finally understand what it is about the other that keeps this unrelenting Hold on You.

“AHHHH!” The scream is horrific. The boiling, hot blood pumping through my body instantly turns to ice as I witness the tragedy I am responsible for. She was standing in front of me and then, a moment later, fell over the edge, disappearing from my sight. “No!” I immediately fall to the ground, coming face-to-face with my self-inflicted hell. I surge my frame forward, landing on my stomach, half my body leaning over the edge. In that moment, I am unexpectedly able to clasp on to her hand. The wind is furious, and the jagged cliff rocks are barely visible under the crashing waves. She is dangling from the edge, holding on like hell to my outstretched hand. Any thought of my future plans vanishes the second I see her disappear. The moment my hand feels hers, I thaw in a mere second. I can feel the blood raging as it floods my veins with unyielding determination to help this woman. “Nate! Oh, God, please don’t drop me!” she screams as she tries to pull herself up, using my arm as a fleshy rope. My hand is sweaty from the adrenaline skyrocketing through my body, making my grip wet and slick. As she swings her body back and forth, she has no idea that, the more she struggles, the easier it will be to drop her. “Stop moving!” I demand as firmly and loudly as I can. “You have to help me, please! I don’t want to die, not like this. Please!” Her pleading gives me that much more strength to pull up. I came up here for selfish reasons of my own, but soon discovered I was not alone. She wouldn’t stand for me to leave her behind, and now I am forced to stare into her blue eyes encased in terror. She only wanted to help, and look where that got her—a front row seat to her imminent death. I cannot allow it to happen. If anyone should die, it needs to be me, not her, never her. “You’re not going to die, but you need to stay calm. Please…” I release a breath as I struggle to keep her attached to my hand. “I’m not going to drop you. I promise I will not allow that to happen, but you need to be calm. Do you hear me? Just keep your body as still as you can!” I shout back, digging deep and finding the strength inside myself. The wind is whipping, getting stronger by the second. I have to get her up, and it has to be now, or the both of us will be falling over the edge. “AWWWWWW!” I release a loud, gut-wrenching roar as I pull with all my power. I swear to God, if she goes over, I will go after her. I will not survive this life knowing this woman died because of me, because I was an asshole who couldn’t get past the pain of ten years ago. “Nate!” I keep my eyes on hers, seeing the panic oozing from them. She is pleading with me to save her life, a life I almost destroyed. If I don’t save her now, it will be destroyed. “I’m slipping! Please, don’t let me go!” Just as the words leave her mouth, a forceful gust of wind bounces off the walls of the cliffs and sends her body into the rocky side. Small fragments of rock fall from the edge and disappear into the rolling waves below. She could fall hundreds of feet down, and nothing but tragedy would follow. It would be my fault. It’s solely up to me to save her, but the wind is becoming too much, and my grip is weakening. She is frantically trying to climb up my arm, but with each movement, she is inching her way out of my grasp. Then she slides down farther until we are only holding on with our fingers, desperately trying to thread them together, but she is slipping. I close my eyes because I can’t watch. I simply can’t watch.

Hold on you is a story about second chances that proves love is patient and waits.

After ten years, Madison returns to the hometown she hoped she'd never see again, the one she left behind along with the boy she refused to marry. What Madison doesn't expect is for Nate to hate her so much.

Nate has been through a lot. He had never gotten over Madison and when she makes her unexpected appearance, old, bitter feelings are brought to surface.

I would like to say that the author's idea was very good and the beginning of the story is very entertaining/intriguing, making you want to know what has happened between Maddie and Nate.

Unfortunately, for me, it didn't work that way as the story kept unfolding. It was a little bit repetitive and kept dragging at some point. I really couldn't understand how they could go from 'hating' each other to realizing that they are in love in just a few pages. I would have liked to see how their relationship develops now, when they’re adults and after everything they went through.

Also, him getting better, letting go of everything just like that didn’t sit well with me. I can’t say I was impressed by Nate’s character.

I really tried to like this story. The synopsis was promising. I guess it just wasn’t for me.

M.S. Brannon was born and raised in the Midwest. She still resides there today with her wonderful husband and son. When she is not writing or reading, M.S. Brannon spends time with her family, watching movies, and discovering new music. She writes romance because she believes love and heartache is the rawest emotion one can experience.

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Release Day Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! The Magnolia Affair by T.A. Foster

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Audrey Kingston has the perfect life she always wanted. An adoring husband, a beautiful house, book club nights with friends. It was idyllic. It was serene. Until Paxton Tanner, candidate for state senator, moved in next door.

Seduced by his undeniable charm, Audrey’s life becomes unrecognizable as she gives in to her impulses.

The affair becomes deadly, and she gets tossed into a political scandal that leads all the way to the governor’s office.

When love becomes lethal, there’s only one way out.

“Is it important to you that I like you?” I didn’t mean to be blunt. “Yes.” His arm brushed mine again, but this time I wasn’t sure it was an accident. “I’m just one little vote. You probably have the rest of the neighborhood in the bag. The book club was impressed with you.” I thought he might be digesting my statement. “Every vote counts. Every person matters. You matter.” We turned at the corner. I could see my driveway ahead. “You sound like an idealist.” The center of my chest warmed when I heard the sound of his laugh. I wasn’t supposed to feel that when I heard another man laugh. I wasn’t supposed to react at all. “I’ve been accused of worse. How about an idealist who wants his ideals to become reality?” He ventured a compromise. I wondered if he and Sarah had conversations like these. Did he try to change her stance on issues? Did he woo her to his side of the fence with charismatic comebacks? “Audrey?” “Yeah. Sounds good.” “I think I lost you for a second.” “Sorry, I was just thinking.” “I aimed too high with gun control, didn’t I? It’s an intense issue.” His expression changed. “It’s not that.” I couldn’t explain what was happening. I should be able to have a mature conversation with my neighbor. We should be able to stroll on the sidewalk. I should be able to be next to him without thinking about his lips. Lips that smiled like a movie star. Something was changing and I couldn’t stop it. There was enough light filtering through the crepe myrtles that I could see the muscles tensing in his neck. Had I said something wrong? The flowerbed that marked the entrance to Paxton’s driveway was a few paces from where we stood. I quickened my step. “I like talking to you. It’s nice to be able to talk without worrying about the consequences.” My eyes flashed to his. But there were consequences. Things were happening inside me. My skin was flushed, my nerves vibrating, my pulse thumping hard against the inside of my head. He couldn’t see any of it, but I wasn’t certain he didn’t feel it. I took a step, forgetting about the lumpy spot in front of his driveway, and almost landed on my face. Paxton gripped my arm, pulling me upward, saving me from landing facedown. “Whoa there. You ok?” “God, I’m sorry.” I shook off his hold. “I’m fine. I wasn’t watching where I was going. Stupid roots everywhere.” I noticed the way my arm ached from his grip. It was warm and pulsing. “Good night. Thanks for walking me home.” I wanted to run, speed past him. Run straight out of my skin. “But, it’s dark. Let me at least drop you off at your door,” he suggested. “I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.” I hesitated. There was a part of me hoping he would offer. “All right. We can cut through your yard. There’s a short cut.” “Show me.” I followed Paxton along the driveway, noticing the lights in my house were off. This was late even for Spencer. Maybe he had gone to bed. We passed the front porch, and I pointed to the path I used earlier that day. I could feel him behind me, taking each step I took. I grabbed one of the stiff magnolia branches and forced it to the side when I felt his hand land on top of mine. I stopped, frozen with dread, consumed with something I hadn’t felt in years. I held onto the branch, and Paxton held onto my hand, the warmth of his palm starting to heat my skin. His breath was heavy on my neck. It felt like waves pounding against me, each one eroding the barrier between us. I was afraid to turn around, afraid that if I looked at him I would unravel. As long as I stared at the branch, I was still in control. I couldn’t speak. With his free hand, he pushed the hair off my neck and blew across the collar of my shirt. My knees wobbled and I gripped tighter on the branch, forcing it to keep me upright. It was involuntary, but my head reeled back. He stepped closer. I didn’t know who I was. Hiding in the shadows while a man I barely knew touched me, like a woman who was available. A woman who was free to make choices about who touched her. I wasn’t that woman. My life was tied to Spence. Those choices weren’t mine to make, but I was making one. His was breathing freedom across my skin I didn’t know I craved. His hand canvassed my neck, taking my throat in his palm. He ran a finger down the center, pressing lightly as he crossed my collarbone. I didn’t think I could stand there much longer as his fingertips explored my skin. The cicadas echoing around our yards drowned out the sound of my heavy breath. I needed to stop this. But I craved it more. I couldn’t open my eyes when he turned me toward him. If I kept them closed, it was as if I were dreaming. This was all a wine-induced dream. I could tell myself it wasn’t happening. Standing under the branches with a man only hours ago I didn’t know, but was unquestionably drawn to. Pulled in by his voice, the look in his eye, the energy around him. How he managed to be rugged, yet refined. But I knew when his mouth took mine that it was real. I could taste the wine on his tongue and the roughness of his palms as he held my face. I savored the newness of him—our lips moving wildly. I clutched at his back. The kiss grew hungrier, our moans turning to whimpers as we snatched at the clothes between us. His teeth grazed across my throat, nipping at the soft spots tenderly then cutting in just enough to tease me. I tensed when I felt his hand slide along my stomach and push my bra out of the way. It was too much. I tried to break away and Paxton hung his head. “God, I’m sorry,” he whispered. I shook my head, feeling sick. “We can’t do this. I-I didn’t want you to kiss me. You weren’t supposed to kiss me.” My fists balled at my side. “I know. I know. It was out of line. I got carried away.” He ran his fingers through his perfect haircut. “I’m sorry. That was idiotic.”

 

T.A. Foster grew up catching rays and waves along the North Carolina Outer Banks and now resides in the state with her husband, three children and canine kiddo. She has an undergraduate degree in Journalism and Mass Communication from the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and a graduate degree in Educational Psychology from Texas A&M University. When she’s not chasing her two-legged and four-legged children or trying to escape for date night, you can find her reading, writing, or planning her next beach trip.

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Book Promo! Excerpt & Giveaway! Seeking Justice by Rivi Jacks

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Young investigative reporter, Cait Shaw, is not happy about her new assignment; investigating what she deems to be a “seedy” part of Chicago’s more questionable businesses. But her editor seems to have a personal vendetta against the elusive Mr. Justice, leaving Cait with little say in the matter.

Cait is especially shocked and conflicted by her attraction to the irresistible charms of Liam Justice. Liam is like no man she has ever known and she is totally captivated and unprepared for the sinfully erotic, passionate affair they enter into.

As her world is turned upside down, Cait must cope with her growing affection for Liam and his shadowed past.

“There’s not going to be anything gentle about tonight, darlin’,” he rasps against my mouth. “I’ve waited all day for you, and watching you dance with those other men, letting them touch you, I’m going to punish you.” My body quivers at his words. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

Holy shit!

The sharp bite of arousal causes my stomach to clench in reaction as he grips my hand and pulls me through the apartment, not saying another word.

The bedroom door closes with a soft click behind us as Liam continues to grasp my hand as if he’s afraid I’ll run if he releases me. He looks down, nailing me with his intense blue gaze, and my breath catches.

“I have to call downstairs,” he murmurs.

“Okay,” I breathe.

His eyes are fervent as his gaze holds mine. He releases me, and I finally break eye contact, moving across the room to stand before the doors that open out onto a balcony.

“I’m upstairs.”

I turn to find him watching me as he talks on the house phone. I turn back to look out the darkened window. I feel awkward, not knowing what I should be doing. Undressing? I’m out of my depth here. I don’t have experience in this type of situation. Are men put off by a woman’s lack of sexual knowledge? The thought that it might, flames my self-doubt, and I look back uneasily at Liam as I hear him say, “I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

He sets the phone down on the bedside table. Then he crosses the room in long strides, pulling his shirt up and over his head, tossing it aside.

Holy hell!

My eyes greedily devour every inch of his hard, muscular perfection. The fierce hunger in his eyes, almost savage in its intensity, spikes my desire, creating a raw need that hits me like a physical blow.

When he reaches me, he pulls me roughly against the length of his body as he wraps me in his arms and his spicy male scent. His mouth comes down on mine, and his tongue is forceful as he pushes it into my mouth. His kiss consumes, possesses and sucks every ounce of doubt from my thoughts. Our passion is almost tangible, and I strain to get closer as he grips my bottom, squeezing firmly. I smooth my hands across his broad shoulders, down his arms, loving the feel of his hard muscles as I run my hands over his firm chest.

“Fuck, Cait,” he gasps against my lips. When he lifts me up into his arms, I press my mouth to his neck and suck against his skin. I nip and bite as he crosses the room to lower me beside the bed.

“Fucking clothes off. Now!” he snarls as he jerks the duvet and top sheet off the bed.

Our eyes lock as I hurry to pull my dress off as he slides his jeans and briefs down his legs, his erection springs free to stand tall and proud.

I still, my mouth going dry. He is so freaking beautiful, I can’t take my eyes from him.

When he grips his erection and pumps his hand along the length, I look up to meet his knowing blue gaze.

“Is this what you want, darlin’?” he asks with a lascivious smile.

I swallow with difficulty. “Yes,” I breathe.

He walks slowly, purposefully toward me.

“On your knees.”

Rivi Jacks has a lifelong love of books, and she is a true believer in holding onto a good love story. One reason her attic and barn are full of the books she has collected through the years.

She lives in the Missouri Ozarks on a farm with her husband, and when not writing or reading, she likes to take long walks down country roads, cook, fish, and spend time with family and friends.

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