Twisted Luck

What would you give, Olivia, to have your revenge?” he asked.
“I don’t want revenge.” But honestly…I’d sell my soul for some good luck.
“What did you say?”
I frowned. “I don’t want revenge?”
“No, the other.”
“I don’t recall saying that out loud.”
He leaned closer and practically whispered, “Say it anyway.”
I licked my lips, unable to tear my gaze from his chocolaty one. “I—” I licked my lips again. “I’d sell my soul for good luck.”
“Would you?” He leaned forward on his elbows, interested and eager for my answer.
“Would you?” I countered, shocked by his words and that I’d even contemplate this to begin with. People didn’t sell their souls. I didn’t believe in God, Satan, Hell, or Heaven. When I was little, God hadn’t helped my mother or me when we’d needed him most. I sure as hell didn’t see any help on this horizon.
“I already have. Paid the piper, too.” Blatant honesty and sadness quirked in his slight smile.

Now I sat a little taller. Had this guy been through hell and back? No way could someone fake that look, the one of cold despair. I knew it too well. I had seen it on my mother’s eyes, viewed it in the mirror when I gazed at myself. I had thought Mr. Perfect hot and out of my league, but this…maybe this soft admission put him square in my playing field.

To be released April 7, 2017.

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Exceeding Boundaries 

She drew away, ending their kiss, her breath quick in her throat. His breathing matched hers, and in the dim light of the dashboard, his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. 

“Well?” he demanded as he sat back into his seat, his voice incredibly deep, sexy, and ragged.

“Very, very nice. Thank you.”

He laughed at her weak praise and covered his face with his hands. “Good Lord, woman, can I ever please you?”

He wasn’t looking, so she cast a glance to his crotch—a nice bulge was nestled between his thighs. She wet her lips and slyly offered, “Would you like to come in for a drink?”

He swallowed again and opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it. Her bravado began to falter as he swallowed one more time and ran a hand through his hair.

“If I come in, if I kiss you again…” He turned toward her and a shaft of dim light danced off the depth of the lust in his eyes. “I won’t be able to stop, Megan.”

“I know.” Power swept into her, fanning her desire like a gust igniting a spark. She held the cards, she was in control. “Why do you think I invited you in?” She slid from the car, not waiting, knowing he’d be at her side in a second. Phase Three had begun.

Spy Games Series 

Book 1: Trained for Seduction
“I guess it’s time for…you know. Dinner’s over.”

He frowned, and for once she could see the wheels turning behind his brown eyes. “How about I make you a deal?”

“A deal with the devil is never productive.” He grinned, and she sighed. “Tell me.”

“We have all weekend, and I’m a very compassionate, very patient man. What you lack in your life is control. I’m going to give you control over when we make love. It’s your call. I will wait patiently until you can’t resist my charms any longer.”

Control. She liked that idea, because he was right. The only things that were keeping her from jumping him now were the facts that she had to be here and she was scared as hell. If this were a date, she’d still be scared as hell, but she’d be more than willing to make the leap. “What happens if we make it to Sunday night and it hasn’t happened?”

“Then we have a problem. But I have faith in my seduction skills. It didn’t take much to get you hot for me before. I don’t need until Sunday night.”

“Ego, Chase, ego,” she whispered. But that offer took an incredible amount of stress from her, and she heaved a sigh of relief. “So how will you continue charming me?”

“Well, we have dishes to do, and since you cleaned your plate, I promised you a movie.”

“I’d like that. I haven’t really watched much in the past year.”

“Neither have I. So we’ll make popcorn, and sit on the couch, and if you’re a very good girl, I’ll let you hold my hand.”

She thought of his hand in hers, those long fingers caressing hers. She bit her lip. A deal with the devil was definitely not a good thing. “And if I’m a bad girl?”

The ego returned, and he smiled a devilish smile. “Then we won’t need to worry about Sunday.”


Book 2: Lethal Limits

“I think you owe me more than one orgasm.”

Oh, yes, Jake did owe her more than one. Tia inhaled his scent—masculine, clean, intoxicating, but void of the note of leather that usually surrounded him. She frowned, missing that. “But not tonight. Sorry, Tex.”

“Two?” His smile was devilish, and his blue eyes darkened.

“Not tonight, thanks.” He owed her more than two, but she didn’t want to be the other woman. Oh, her body wanted to be the other woman. Her skin tingled with the anticipation of what he offered. But she couldn’t, not when he had looked at Blondie like that. “You don’t have something more pressing to do?”

“Don’t be so eager to leave, darlin’.” Jake put a hand on the small of her back, and the heat of his palm ignited a flame in her belly. “Where’s your room?”

“Back that way.” She pointed down the hall. “But I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jake turned her slightly, her back to the wall. He drew closer, one arm leaning on the wall over her head, close but not touching her with any part of his lean form except the hot palm on her bare back. His eyes were intense, deep blue, and he gave her another slow smile that promised whatever he did would definitely be a good idea.

She drew in a breath, afraid to exhale. He smelled so good. Would he taste as delicious tonight? No, she couldn’t go there. If he touched her, she’d ignite. If he kissed her…she’d be second best again.

“Just go,” she whispered. “I can’t do this with you. Not anymore.”


Book 3: Endgame

“All tied up like a gift, you are. Delightful.”

“I’m going to take the hood off now and have a peek at my present. I love Christmas, but I don’t like to wait.” Her cheeks dented with a dimple as she smiled at him with mischief. She wrinkled her pert nose. God, could a woman’s skin get any creamier than that? Pale and flawless except for the scar under her left ear he noticed when she turned slightly, cocking her head as if to listen for something.

She did the unthinkable and straddled his lap, her face inches from his, looking into his eyes, the heat from her crotch searing his shaft. He should be afraid. Terrified. But something told him this wouldn’t be like his first time. If she just rode him into oblivion, this time he’d enjoy every moment of it.

“So handsome.” She touched his cheek with a gloved hand, her fingers warm through the leather. Her sleeve rode up and a tattoo around her wrist was exposed, a delicate chain of daisies with a yellow butterfly. He knew that, from somewhere, too, but didn’t remember seeing it on her when they danced. She wiggled on his lap, the ridge of his cock angling against the heat of her crotch through those thin black pants of hers.

He groaned through his gag. If she just rode him, even while he was bound and gagged, he’d be more than grateful for the gift. It was a new experience, to be so damned aroused over a woman, under such extremes. Maybe that’s what the problem was—this was way too extreme. He’d fought feelings like this for years. Now they were punching him in the gut as hard as she ground against his cock.

“Happy to see me again, are you? These ropes excite me, too. It’d be more exciting if it were the other way around. I love a good bondage session.”

He groaned again. He didn’t like kinky shit, but he did like Charlotte. Way, way too much.


Ripped (m/m)

“Erik. Kiss me,” Gavin whispered, almost a plea.

Knowing this was probably the worst thing he could do for their friendship, Erik leaned in and let his lips touch Gavin’s. He sighed against those firm lips and gentled the pressure of his mouth, slanting over Gavin’s, hesitant to explore the lines he’d memorized, embedded in his brain over the years. So good. He savored the sensation a moment more and started to draw away.

But Gavin surprised him. A firm hand slid to the back of Erik’s head, and Gavin tugged him closer, his tongue touching the seam of Erik’s mouth, gently prying. Erik moaned and opened. Gavin’s tongue twined with his, and electricity shocked through Erik’s veins, sizzling his blood to a boil.

The kiss changed, and Gavin kissed him like a starved man, his lips biting, tongue darting and stroking, tangling with his.

Erik shuddered. How many nights had he dreamed of this, Gavin painting him then coming to him, unable to hold back the passion, taking him here, on this bed?

Tentatively, Erik reached out and touched Gavin’s chest. God, he was hard, his chest sculpted, with just the lightest dusting of dark hair. Erik kneaded Gavin’s wide shoulders, the muscles tight under his palms.

Bolder, Erik roamed lower, down the dip from his ribs to the abs. This is why men and women alike drooled over Gavin, these gentle valleys in his deeply tanned skin. But Erik wanted the whole package. The body and the brain. Gavin’s brain worked in a different way than his, in colors and patterns, where his worked in computer code. Maybe they had patterns in common, but Gavin’s were beautiful.

Gavin slid his lips along Erik’s jaw, sliding his tongue along the crease between bone and neck. Then he pulled away to meet Erik’s gaze. So much heat in one look. Heat and a plea, one Erik didn’t understand.

“I can’t make love to you,” Gavin said.


Just Ask (m/m)

"Then come for five-thirty, dress casual."

There was something biting in Ryan's voice that said if Jordan wore a suit, he was slamming the door in his face. "How casual?"

"Hawaiian print shirt and khaki shorts. Sandals or flip-flops. It's too hot for jeans."Ryan's lips curved into the hint of a naughty smile. "They sell those at the resort shop, too."

"Any certain color for the shirt, or will you allow me to choose that?" Smart ass, tossing the gauntlet like that, assuming he didn't own casual clothes.

A quick mental tour through the suitcase told Jordan that he didn't, which pissed him off. He had stuff for the gym, a swim suit, casual slacks, suits. Which meant another trip to the hell that was the resort shop.

Fuck you, Blake, thinking you know me better than I know myself.

Ryan's gaze thoughtfully slid down and then up Jordan's frame. Jordan's skin heated with a tingle that had nothing to do with the humidity. He shifted, appalled that his cock would stir even just a little as Ryan's perusal ended at his mouth, hesitating there for a nanosecond that Jordan surely read wrong. But stir his dick did, his body obviously okay with being checked out.

Ryan cocked his head, a slow smile spreading across his lips. "Blue. Or Green."

"And if they don't carry one?"

"You're coming to talk to me about selling your portion of the island. It would be wise to humor me if you want me to listen to what you have to say. I can make this deal sit in court for years and years, so if I want you to show up naked, I suggest you do." Ryan's tone was soft, but his eyes glinted with blue steel.

Jordan couldn't remember the last time he'd been given an ultimatum, so this was another fucking first.

The sizzle of anger paled in comparison to the jolt of desire singing along his nerves, one that joined with the fierce need to run right out and buy that blue shirt and khaki shorts. Holy fucking shit.

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