I will be in Atlanta attending the Authors After Dark conference this weekend. Saturday is the huge book signing with lots of great authors and even more great books! Here's the deets. I hope to see you there!
Wednesday, August 5, 2015
Did you get your copy of Explosive Hearts yet? Don't miss out on the next installment of the Uniformed and Smoking Hot mini-series!
Trauma surgeon Paris Rainer knows how to repair wounds, but mending a broken heart, let alone two, is something she didn’t learn in medical school. When tragedy strikes Cherish F.D. Station 2’s B-shift, her talents as a doctor are put to the test, but fixing sexy firefighters Tate Shaw and Ethan Crawford is going to take womanly skills she’s not sure she has.
Since Ethan’s world was turned upside down by a breakup, he’s been lost, accused of malicious vandalism, and waiting for the next anvil to fall. When it comes in the form of a beautiful surgeon, the last thing he wants or expects is to fall in love again.
Tate isn’t a stranger to loss. When he’s faced with losing another person close to his heart, he turns to the one person that seems to understand. But Paris does more than that. She gives him hope of a life spent with her between him and Ethan forever.
He closed that step of distance he’d put between them in a single stride that brought the hard wall of his body pressed against her front. “You’re babbling.”
Paris gasped, partly from the return of the electricity zinging through her system and partly because she knew she wasn’t doing anything of the sort. “I’m not babbling. You asked questions and I’m—”
“Babbling,” he cut her off again, his voice low and rusty as he gazed down at her. “Apparently, I’m going to have to kiss you to make you stop.”
Paris blinked at him. No, he wasn’t because, oh, holy shit, whatever else she had been about to say evaporated from her mind at that. Somewhere in her scrambled brain, one question managed to form and make it past her lips. “Why would you do that?”
“Because I want to.”
He said it so simply, in such a matter-of-fact tone that she blinked at him again. “Ethan, you don’t want me.”
Hadn’t he told Tate he was going solo? Hadn’t he just told her that Tate was a grown man and could do whoever he wanted? Both statements had made it clear to her that he wasn’t interested, despite the tricks her imagination kept playing on her every time they touched.
One ash brown brow lifted over a green eye that danced with intrigue. “Really? If the hard-on I had for you in the hospital didn’t tell you different, this one should.” He angled his lower body, pressing it more firmly against her, and yes, his cock was definitely hard as rock.
Paris didn’t know what to say. She licked her lips and tried to latch onto that part of her brain that knew she should tell him to back off. Instead, the words that left her mouth couldn’t have been any more different. “Then maybe you should kiss me.”
What was she doing? She had just given herself to Tate, more than once in fact, and was telling Ethan to kiss her now! She had left Tate sleeping in his bed. What would he do if he walked into the kitchen and found her kissing Ethan? What would he think? How would he react?
The questions sailed from her mind when Ethan kissed her. It was a soft kiss, slightly hesitant at first, as if he feared she might pull away or as if he was deciding if he should be the one to stop instead. She didn’t pull away and he didn’t stop. He licked his way into her mouth and coaxed her tongue into a hungry dance that had her mind reeling even as her clit started to throb. Her nipples beaded to hardened points. There was no way he couldn’t feel the darts of them pressing against his chest. Juices leaked from between her pussy lips to soak the cotton lining of her panties.
Was she really going to do this?
She had found one of Tate’s shirts draped over a chair in the corner of his bedroom this morning and had thrown it on in lieu of her own clothes when she had come to the kitchen to get more water. Ethan fisted the material of that shirt now, the backs of his fingers grazing her flesh as he pulled it up and broke the kiss only long enough to tug it over her head. Then her pulsing nipples were pressing into the bare flesh of his chest and, God, yes, she was really going to do this.
She moaned into his mouth, her lower body bucking on its own accord, and her hips swaying, grinding her center against the hard line of his cock still clad in his jogging pants. She already knew how enormously long and thick his cock was and her pussy convulsed to feel it inside her.
The sound he made was more animal than man as he licked his way out of her mouth, danced his tongue down her throat, and dipped his head to take one of her breasts between his lips.
Paris cupped his nape with one hand, fisted the strands of his hair with the other, and let her head fall back as the sweet sensation of his licking and sucking on her breast drove her straight to near madness.
“Ethan.” She wasn’t sure if she said his name aloud or only in her head. It didn’t matter. Either way, he didn’t stop the delicious things he was doing to her breast with his mouth. Instead, he shifted to her other breast, taking great care to give it the same attention as the first.
“Oh, God.” Lightning bolts of pleasure shot down her body, igniting the fire already building in her pussy to an inferno she knew only this firefighter taking control of her body could put out. Apparently, Tate had done a good job of teaching her how to beg last night because it came way too easily to her now. “Ethan, please.”
He lifted his head, met her gaze, and the look in his eyes only added more fuel to the fire inside her. “I do want you, Paris. I’ve tried to resist that. If you hadn’t still been here this morning, I would’ve been able to pull it off. But you’re here and I can’t. Let me have you.”
Unable to speak around the emotions clogging her throat, Paris nodded. There was no way she could’ve missed the party that exploded in his eyes at her answer. It was so shocking to see that excitement unfold that she nearly laughed, but he chose that moment to shove a hand between their lower bodies and cover her pussy through the thin lining of her panties.
“Damn, sweetheart, you’re wet. Tell me it’s because you really want me as badly as I want you.”
Her hand was still in his hair and she toyed with the strands as she gazed at him. “Yes, Ethan. I want you.”
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Forever Strings (MFM)
Heat Rating: SEXTREME
Officer Ripley Paxton has been betrayed by love too many times, but solitary life has gotten lonely. When she meets Xander, she makes it clear she’s looking for a good time and no strings. Then she meets Flynn and finds herself having that good-time-no-strings fun with both men…until the strings start to form, a threat makes itself known, and the only place she can turn is into Xander and Flynn’s loving, protective arms.
Fire Captain Flynn Martelli has enough on his plate without adding a woman to the mix, but the sexy, vivacious Ripley is too irresistible to push aside. Firefighter Xander Wayland knows Ripley is the woman for him. The gorgeous vixen isn’t looking for long-term. Neither is he. His heart has different plans. When he discovers Ripley has been having fun with Flynn, too, he’s okay with that. So is Flynn. But neither man is okay with the threat that’s out to take her away from them forever.
Ripley’s heart skipped a beat. Just like that, Xander had gone from playful to serious. She supposed he’d had to, especially given the handcuffs in his hand and the obvious intent in his eyes to use them.
“That’s an interesting question coming from a man I’ve known for barely more than two hours.”
He shot a pointed glance around the room before meeting her gaze again. “I’m in your house.”
Ripley gave him a half laugh. “You’re in my bedroom.”
Xander didn’t crack a smile. “But do you trust me enough to have my way with you and know that I won’t hurt you in any way that doesn’t give you absolute and total pleasure?”
Ripley’s heart didn’t just skip a beat this time. It stilled. Holy smokes, the intensity on his handsome face coupled with the mixture of hope and confidence in his tone had juices leaking from between her feminine lips. She wanted this man. She wanted him to have his way with her, and, mother of hormones, she wanted him to do anything and everything to her that would give her that absolute and total pleasure he was talking about.
She shifted, putting the weight of her upper body on one elbow so she could reach for him with her other hand. “Yes, Xander. Call me crazy, but I trust you.”
“I would never call you crazy or give you a reason not to trust me,” he said, still so serious, so confident, and, oh, wow, those words shouldn’t have made her insides go all warm and fuzzy, but they did.
Wanting to put them back in their playful mood from moments ago, needing to, Ripley asked, “Do you need me to show you what to do with those handcuffs?”
He snorted. “Baby, I’m going to show you how these handcuffs can be fun.” He waited a beat and added, “Lay down and stretch your arms over your head.”
Ripley obeyed even as an excited whip of trepidation slashed over every erogenous zone in her body.
He leaned over her, glanced down, and asked, “You’re right handed, aren’t you?”
There was only one set of cuffs. He couldn’t bind both of her wrists to the headboard like he obviously wanted. Knowing it would throw him off, she told him, “I’m ambidextrous.”
He gave her a withering look that had her struggling not to laugh. “Work with me, Ripley, unless you’ve got another pair of these laying around.”
She let a half giggle escape. “I don’t, and I shoot my gun with my right hand, if that helps.”
“So, just in case that’s lying around the room and I didn’t see it…” He muttered the words, but she heard the humor in his tone as he stretched her right arm toward the headboard and secured it to one of the wrought iron bars.
Still laughing, Ripley waved her left hand in the air in front of his face. “I still have a free hand.”
“Not for long.” He grabbed that wrist as he sat up and guided her left hand between her legs. “You’re going to play with your pussy until I get down there to take over.”
“Wh—” A sudden rush of uncertainty had Ripley needing to swallow before she could make the question come out. “Where are you going to be?”
He shifted next to her, threw one powerful leg over her thighs, braced the weight of his upper body on his hands at her sides, and dipped his head. “Right here for starters.” The tip of his tongue touched the side of her neck and danced its way down.
Ripley shuddered, every sensory nerve in her body anticipating the next lick, the next touch of his mouth, and the bites he’d given to her breasts in the living room.
“Are you playing with your pussy like I told you to do?” The warmth of his breath fanned her flesh as his face hovered over her collarbone.
She wasn’t. All of her attention had been fixated on him, every particle of her being waiting for him to touch her, to taste her, and to fuck her. She pushed a finger between her sodden folds and couldn’t stop the moan that escaped her lips.
His lips unfolded in a smile against her flesh as he lowered his mouth to her collarbone and gave it a tender nip. “Now you are. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
“You should be doing it for me.” Ripley could finger herself any time the mood struck. Right now, she wanted his large, callused fingers between her pussy lips, fondling her clit, and pumping inside her channel.
“You have to beg me to first.”
Ripley let out a quick burst of disbelieving laughter, but the moan that broke through it when his tongue touched her flesh again ruined the effect. “I don’t beg, Slick.”
His head lifted, his gaze slammed into hers, and the calm authority shining among the flames in her eyes brought her inching toward the edge. “You will.”