Flash Point: Holding Out for a Hero, Book 3 Page 11

  “Trevor—”

  “Nobody could possibly know by looking at you just what a little animal you are in bed,” he muttered thickly, his fingers gliding back up her lapel and then inward, to trace the neckline of her silk camisole. “How when you come hard you can scar up a man’s back with those claws of yours.”

  His words had her biting back a throaty moan. Even as her nipples tightened and dampness gathered in her panties. She could see it in her head. Could almost feel his cock pounding into her again as the weight of his body pinned hers to the bed.

  No, sex won’t fix anything.

  “Remember that time when we first started dating, when I fucked you in this office?” he asked. “When I bent you over that desk right over there, lifted your skirt, pushed those tiny panties you love to wear aside and just took you?”

  Her sex clenched with an ache to be filled, because she did remember. But she shook her head, trying to make him stop verbalizing such a sensual memory.

  “Remember how you begged me, angel?” He smiled. “’Cause I sure do.”

  “Please…”

  “Does Henry make you feel like this? Does he know that kissing the small of your back makes you whimper like a bitch in heat?” His voice dropped an octave as his finger dipped under the neckline of her top to caress the swell of her breasts.

  Push him away. Tell him to stop. But she couldn’t. Didn’t want to.

  “Or when he’s sucking on your tits, are you biting your tongue not to call out my name?”

  “Trevor,” she pleaded huskily, arching into his touch.

  “Yeah. Just like that.” And then his head descended, his mouth slanting across hers.

  Megan couldn’t have resisted even if she’d wanted to. She cried out as his lips plundered her, as his tongue thrust fiercely against hers as if to remind her just who was kissing her. As if she could ever, ever forget.

  Loose ends have a way of tripping you up…

  Creative License

  © 2011 Lynne Roberts

  Years ago, a law school graduation weekend in Vegas had been part of Lily MacPherson’s plan. Waking up next to a naked Adonis with a ring on her finger was not. After a quick annulment, she relegated Caleb Anderson to her late-night fantasies—and very short list of mistakes—until his voice on the other end of the phone asks a favor that could shake the foundations of her neat and tidy future.

  Caleb is still haunted by Lily’s horrified expression that morning in Vegas. At least it had made it easy to set her free…except they aren’t. The papers were never filed. And when the nosy patroness who could launch his painting career insists on meeting his “wife”, does he confess, or call Lily? He calls Lily.

  When she steps off the plane, Caleb’s determination to play tour guide disappears in the San Francisco fog. Lily thought she could keep up the pretense for one weekend, cut the last tie to her past, and move on. But their chemistry still pops and sizzles, finally exploding into passion at Caleb’s studio.

  It’s everything they remember…but so is the yawning chasm of differences that, in the end, could once again drive them apart.

  Warning: Contains balmy ocean breezes, coffee as seduction, the creative use of melted chocolate, and naughty shower lovin’ that gives new meanings to the term “shower head”.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Creative License:

  Lily swallowed. A predatory light had come into Caleb’s green eyes. Her fingers paused on a button. What was she doing? “Caleb, I…” She breathed in as his lips brushed the skin above her collarbone. His breath warmed her flesh. Her legs trembled and she knew without his support, she’d sink to the ground. And isn’t that where she wanted to be? On the floor with Caleb thrusting inside her?

  His lips found hers again, possessing, demanding. A surge of heat traveled through her body, leaving an ache of hunger. She made a noise low in her throat as Caleb finished unbuttoning her shirt and dropped it to the floor. They were adults, consenting adults. Hell, they were married adults.

  Caleb trailed kisses down her neck to nuzzle behind her ear. Her body sizzled from the contact. Her skin absorbed his caress, his feather light touches driving her to a fever pitch need for more. She leaned against his hard body, the length of his erection unyielding against her hip. She wanted to feel his skin, run her hands along the smooth length of him.

  Caleb searched her face as she lowered her zipper and tugged her jeans down her hips. “No strings, no regrets, just me and you?”

  He nodded, but something shifted in his eyes before they closed when her hand brushed his erection. In a heartbeat, she was in his arms. He carried her to the couch and laid her on the cushions.

  He stared at her body for a moment. “You are so damn beautiful.”

  Before she could respond, his lips descended. She opened her mouth, welcoming his tongue, knowing it was only a taste of things to come. Lily reached for his shirt, tugging it over his head, revealing his smooth, golden skin. The nerve-endings in her fingers hyper-charged as she explored hard muscle under the warm, satiny flesh. Wild, he delved deep, stroking her mouth with his tongue and fueling the desire already raging through her body. He kissed down her throat to the lace of her bra, his breath hot and moist against her skin.

  With care, he unclasped the bra and released Lily’s breasts. His sharp intake of breath cooled her skin before his mouth descended, licking and kissing around her nipple but not touching it. Arching her back, she urged him to take the hardened nub in his mouth. Caleb smiled against her flesh and flicked her nipple with the tip of his tongue. A surge of moisture further dampened her panties. She threaded her fingers around the back of his head and pulled his hair free of its queue. It spilled around his face and she buried her fingers in its silky strands and guided his mouth back to her breast. Caleb took the nipple in his mouth and suckled. His hands roamed her body, leaving her skin heated and aching for more. The coil of pleasure deep inside her tightened. Lily moaned.

  Caleb gently blew on the puckered nipple and shifted to the other one. His hands snaked down her stomach and he ran a finger over her moist panties. “Mmm, this seems rather uncomfortable.” His voice rumbled against her skin.

  “Terribly.” The word turned into a gasp as he reached the lacy edge and ran a finger under it, down between her legs.

  “Poor baby. Should I take them off for you?” Caleb’s hand disappeared further under the pink lace and his forefinger slipped inside her wet core.

  She arched her hips and moaned. “Please.”

  His soft gasp tickled her breast and sparked a series of involuntary shudders. She was so close. “Take them off,” Lily demanded.

  Caleb kissed slowly down her stomach, lightly dragging his teeth over her hip bones, taking his time as though she weren’t about to explode beneath his touch. When his lips reached lace, he pulled them down her hips. “I live to serve.”

  Some rules just beg to be broken.

  Just Like That

  © 2010 Erin Nicholas

  The Bradfords, Book 2

  Danika Steffen can take care of herself. Watching her mother slowly succumb to muscular dystrophy convinced Danika that total independence is the only way to go. Anything that needs fixing, she’s got the tools. So what if she’s never had an orgasm. No one really needs one, right?

  Sam Bradford is good at two things: his job as a paramedic, and seducing women. Being dependable? Not so much. Losing his father at age fifteen tore a permanent hole in his life, and now he’s determined never to let anyone need him that much. Enjoying women, though, is definitely on the menu. As long as they understand his unbreakable rule: one night only. Until a date with Danika Steffen ends not in her bed, but with a trip to the ER.

  Danika may have a broken wrist, but Sam’s the one suffering…an intense case of guilt. And instead of doing things to her, he only wants to do things for her. Which would drive her crazy if not for the sneaking suspicion that Sam needs a little TLC too. And damned if she doesn’t want to be the one
to give it…

  Warning: Contains an I’ll-do-it-myself girl who can fix anything, a commitment-phobic guy who can’t fix anything, and a whole new way to look at butter. Yes, butter.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Just Like That:

  She was desperate. Plain and simple. She had to wash her hair or she was going to go crazy and there was absolutely no way she could do it herself.

  It was so frustrating! To not be able to do the simplest, most normal thing made her want to scream. She didn’t want to need Sam, not like this. She was kind of okay with needing him physically, with feeling like she would die if he didn’t touch her. At least, she was getting used to it. She wasn’t as okay with needing him to make her a sandwich, unzip her dress and wash her hair.

  Talk about pathetic.

  This was exactly the kind of thing she avoided at all costs. She never let other people take care of her. She’d been sick with the flu for almost a week four years ago and it had taken her three days to call Carmen and even tell her and another two before she would let Carmen come over. She hated the feeling of vulnerability, of weakness, of being a burden.

  Sam thought this was fun now. He felt responsible now. He was even making it sexy.

  How long would any of that last?

  Not as long as she would remember being dependent on him for the smallest thing.

  She was able to wiggle out of her panties and the nightgown was loose enough that she could pull it over her head one-handed. The swimming suit was more of a challenge. It was a one-piece and she was able to get the bottom of the suit up by pulling one side up, then the other until it was in place. She threaded her casted hand in through the strap and up onto her shoulder, then the other side.

  “I’m going to need a plastic bag to put over the cast,” she said as she stepped back into the hallway, still pulling her right shoulder strap up.

  Sam was standing across from her, leaning back against the wall, but he pushed away as she stepped through the door. His eyes were wide.

  “Wow.”

  She stopped short at the look in his eyes. She might as well have been naked. He was looking at her as if memorizing every curve and prominence.

  She tried to ignore the tingles that seemed to erupt everywhere as she realized that he was imagining peeling her swimming suit off of her. It was so clear, in fact, it was like reading his mind. “You going to be able to do this?” she asked.

  “Definitely. I’m a little tight in my jeans, but I’m okay.”

  Her eyes dropped to his fly in spite of her effort to avoid it. He was grinning when she looked back into his eyes.

  “Let’s do this,” she muttered, stepping past him into the bathroom.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She looked over her shoulder. “Washing my hair,” she clarified.

  “Of course.”

  She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “The garbage bags are under the sink.”

  “I’m all over it.”

  She wanted him all over her. “Garbage bags.” She wasn’t sure if she said it to try to distract her own thoughts or to again clarify what he was all over.

  “Right.”

  She started the water running while Sam went to retrieve a plastic bag from the kitchen. She knew the moment he was back because the air temperature in the bathroom spiked and she could feel him behind her, checking out her butt.

  “Isn’t that how we ended up in this mess?” she asked without looking at him.

  “Yep,” he said unapologetically. “But it isn’t my fault. You can’t take someone to the edge of the Grand Canyon and expect him not to look.”

  With the water the right temperature, she turned to frown at him. “My butt reminds you of the Grand Canyon?”

  He held up his hands in surrender. “Again, thinking too fast on my feet. How about you can’t take someone to see the Hope Diamond and expect him not to look.”

  “Again, you’re comparing my butt to something that is extraordinarily big.”

  He chuckled. “I can’t think of anything amazingly beautiful, but appropriately trim, firm and tiny.”

  She tipped her head to one side, considering that. She, of course, didn’t think that he’d been insulting her and she couldn’t think of any other way to make him squirm so she shrugged. “Forgiven.”

  She started to step into the tub and he immediately moved forward and took her good hand. Once she was standing in the warm water swirling at the bottom of the tub, he shook the plastic bag and held it out to her. She stuck her hand inside and he smoothed it over her cast, sliding a rubber band over it to hold it tight. It wasn’t going to be completely waterproof, but it would keep drops from kicking up onto the plaster. She would still, obviously, have to keep her hand up out of the water.

  “Now what?” he asked.

  Thankfully, she had a sprayer that could be taken down from the wall and held. “I’ll sit and then you’ll have to use that to wet my hair.”

  “Sounds good.” For a guy who had been claiming to not know what to do with washing a woman’s hair, he certainly sounded confident.

  He held onto her as she lowered herself carefully to the bottom of the tub. Then he knelt beside the tub on the fluffy lavender mat. He pulled up on the lever on the faucet that turned the shower on and she held her right hand up in the air.

  “Here, rest your hand on my shoulder.” He moved so that she could rest her cast on his left shoulder, somehow leaning around to use his right hand to maneuver the sprayer head.

  Warm water hit her scalp and coursed over her shoulders and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back at the feel of it, resisting the urge to sigh.

  She felt Sam shift the sprayer to his left hand as his elbow rested on the edge of the tub, the spray angled at her feet for the moment. The gentle pressure of his right hand settled on her head, smoothing her hair back, his fingers curling gently into her scalp, massaging and wetting all the strands.

  She did sigh then.

  He was leaning in so close that she could smell that wonderful smell from him, and she kept her eyes closed, just absorbing the feel of him touching her, his scent and body heat around her.

  “You’d better hold this.” He moved the handle of the sprayer to her left hand and shifted away.

  She opened her eyes and saw him reaching for the shampoo bottle on the ledge. His eyes met hers as he poured some of the shampoo into his hand, then rubbed his hands together in small circles.

  “Step two,” he said with a smile.

  “So far, so good.”

  He lifted his hands to her head and started a slow massage again, working the soap through her hair. She closed her eyes again. She didn’t know if he meant for the shampooing to be sensual, but it certainly was. Of course, this was Sam and it seemed that even the most innocent touch made her want him.

  Her long hair was piled on top of her head and his fingers kneaded from her temples to the crown of her head, then down the back, to the base of her skull.

  After a few delicious minutes, he reclaimed the sprayer and aimed it at her head, rinsing the bubbles off.

  “Now?” he asked.

  She thought his voice sounded hoarse, but when she looked at him he was simply watching her.

  “Conditioner.” She pointed to the other bottle on the same shelf where he’d found the shampoo.

  He repeated the pattern without another word, including the rinsing.

  She opened her eyes again as she realized the rinsing was more than complete. “Could you…” she started, then stopped, hoping he’d let it go and knowing he wouldn’t at the same time.

  “Yes, I could.”

  “You don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

  “Doesn’t matter. Whatever you need.” He was suddenly so sincere.

  Which made her ask hesitantly, “Could you help me wash my face too? While I’m already here and wet.”

  At that Sam pulled in a quick, sharp breath, but he nodded. “Sure.”

  She
pointed to the bottle of foaming facial cleanser and he pumped a small amount into his palm and then spread it out with the pads of the fingers on the other hand. He lifted his hands to her face and gently began making circles on her cheeks.

  “Here, I can…” she started.

  He bumped her un-casted hand out of the way. “I’ve got it.”

  It was strange being bathed for the first time in twenty years. Not terrible, but strange.

  Sam’s fingers circled over her face, spreading cleanser over her forehead, down the bridge of her nose, over her cheeks and along her jaw and chin. He washed her face nearly two minutes longer than she ever had and Danika found it stupidly erotic. She figured Sam was just thinking what a pain in the ass this was all going to be after a few days.

  Once the cleanser had been washed off, Danika realized she didn’t have any reason to linger in the tub. Other than that she just wanted to, at least.

  “What about the rest?” Sam asked.

  “The rest of what?”

  “Your body. You have to bathe everything at some point.”

  Of course she would. But…

  “Are you offering to help?”

  “Absolutely.” He grinned.

  “If we do that,” she said directly, and out loud, “it will lead to much more than simple washing.”

  “You seem pretty sure of that.”

  “Completely.”

  Flash Point

  Shelli Stevens

  One taste of her lips, and friendship is off the menu.

  Holding Out for a Hero, Book 3

  Kate has always been everybody’s friend and the de-facto little sister to the Wyatt brothers. But her feelings for Todd Wyatt, the town’s hottest firefighter, run far beyond the sibling variety. Not that he’s ever noticed.

  After years of nursing her crush, Kate decides it’s time to take action. Except she has one awkward little secret: she’s still a virgin. She hopes she can seduce Todd without him realizing just how inexperienced she is.