Finding Forever by Lynn Burke #NewRelease #Contemporary #RomanceBooks @AuthorLynnBurke

#Contemporary #Romance #Erotic #Series #HEA

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Finding Forever

Found by Fate 1

By Lynn Burke

Release Date: December 12, 2018

Keywords: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Series, HEA, Short Story

Samantha likes to bang a guy’s headboard and take off long before he bangs up her heart. Temptation returns in the form of a Zeus-like, tattooed hunk, the man whose first kiss roused her teenage hormones. His arrival carries the promise for more, but Sam’s determination to enjoy a taste–or two–without risking her heart could cost her the chance at finding forever.

PURCHASE LINKS:

Books2Read: http://books2read.com/findingforeverfbf1

Amazon: www.amazon.com/Finding-Forever-Found-Fate-Book-ebook/dp/B07KYVT58K

Amazon UK: www.amazon.co.uk/Finding-Forever-Found-Fate-Book-ebook/dp/B07KYVT58K

Barnes & Noble: www.barnesandnoble.com/w/finding-forever-lynn-burke/1129952516

iTunes: itunes.apple.com/us/book/finding-forever/id1445064632

Smashwords: www.smashwords.com/books/view/909917
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EXCERPT

“Good Lord, will you look at him, Sam?”

With Bob at lunch, and me enjoying my assistant manager title to the fullest, I pushed up from my slouched position beside Jade and checked out the store’s entrance she indicated toward with her chin.

Good Lord, was right. Sandy blond hair and sporting full sleeve tatts, a well-over-six-foot tall Zeus strode in, shoulders back and glancing around the store like new customers always did.

Putting on my sexy smile, I sauntered over to him, Jade’s whispered, “Good Luck” spurring me on.

“Welcome to Nature’s Corner,” I said.

“Thanks.” The sound of his gravelly voice lit a fire between my legs and luscious shivers slid from lips to toes as his intense hazel-eyed gaze took its time scanning down my body. Hell, even my nipples stood at attention.

I started an appraisal of my own, enjoying the tatts covering ripped arms that disappeared beneath his tight T-shirt, but my focus snagged on the distinctive bump of a hotter than shit nipple ring on his left pec. My perusal stalled out, and I licked my lower lip. “Can I help you find something?” I hated that my own voice escaped breathy—and not in the sexy way.

A gleam lit in his eyes as he peered down at me. “Fire punch.”

“Aisle six.” I added a touch of extra sway to my hips while leading him toward the back of the store. The hairs on my nape stood to attention and weakness crept into my limbs. Oh yeah, he had to be checking me out.

“What gym do you go to?” I asked, grabbing a container of the favored, natural pick-me-up for all the iron pumpers who wouldn’t touch steroids.

“Fit and Fab.” Zeus took the bottle from my hand, a playful smirk on his lips.

Shots of electricity shot up my arm as his finger grazed mine. I had difficulty holding his potent stare. “New in town? Never seen you here before.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, kinda.”

Bad ass and to the point. My favorite kind of man. “Caddyshack’s has the best clams. O’Donnovan’s the best beer.”

A full-on grin revealed a dimple in his left cheek and lightened his gaze. “Your favorite hang outs?”

I lifted a shoulder and let it drop. “I usually grab a beer or two after work at one place or the other. Depends on how hungry I am.”

He made a sound deep in his throat, and images of riding him until he hollered his release had me clenching my thighs. “What time do you get off work?” he asked, leaning forward enough he entered my personal space.

“Five. And, it’ll be O’Donnovan’s tonight. If you were wondering.”

He tipped the fire punch at me with a wink. “Maybe I’ll see you there.”

I tried to make my grin sexy, but probably failed. “Hope so.”

© Lynn Burke 2018

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ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

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Can’t Get Enough by Harley Wylde #rockstar #RomanceBooks #newadult #NewRelease #preorder @HarleyW_Writer

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Publisher: JCS Books
Cover Artist: Jessica Smith
Genres/Themes: Rockstar, New Adult, Erotic
Release Date: December 18, 2018

JACE

When Sinful Seduction made it big, my life changed, and not always in awesome ways. The groupies were great at first, until one decided to fake a pregnancy and claim the kid was mine. My bandmates had my back, and while the woman backed down fast when I demanded a paternity test, it still shook me. I knew it was time for another change, one where I kept my pants zipped. And then I saw her across the bar… the goddess with golden waves, and her sexy little librarian outfit. I knew she was different, and I wanted to make her mine. Should have known better than to get drunk in Vegas. You know how they say what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas? Bullshit. Total and complete bullshit. But maybe this time my mistake will turn out to be the best thing that ever happened to me.

HONEY

I dumped my cheating fiancée, hopped a plane to Vegas, and hit the latest writer’s convention. On what should have been my wedding day, I was throwing back drinks like they were fruit punch. To be fair, they probably had fruit punch in them. When I woke up the next morning with a hard body pressed to mine, and a silver band on a very important finger, I thought I’d screwed up more than ever before. Imagine my surprise when the wannabe rocker I married turned out to be even more famous than me — and wait for it — he wanted to stay married! Even with a battered heart, I still believed in happily-ever-after, but what could a rock star and a romance author have in common?

Chemistry… Intense, curl your toes, melt your panties chemistry. Relationships have been based on worse, right?

*WARNING: If you don’t like foul-mouthed bad boys, lots of hot sex, and an accidental marriage, then you should probably skip this book.

Available at Bookstrand, AmazonB&N Kobo, and iTunes
Releasing December 18th

Excerpt

(c) 2018, Harley Wylde
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

JACE

I stared into the crowd, their faces and writhing bodies a blur under the multi-hued lights. Sweat rolled down my temples and my spine as the lyrics poured out of me, more out of habit than passion. Fierce Seduction had been at the top of the charts for the past year as we’d toured the country. My fingers flew over the strings of my guitar, the riffs to the songs coming as easy as the women screaming my name. I couldn’t look at them without seeing her face, the stupid cunt who thought she was going to catch herself a one-way ticket to stardom.

It had been the week from hell. A groupie I’d fucked nearly a damn year ago contacted my manager, threatening to go public if I didn’t pay her a million dollars to keep quiet. She claimed the baby she’d had two weeks before was my son, but I knew better. I was super fucking cautious when it came to fucking the whores who threw themselves at me. I not only wore a condom, but I usually pulled out too. No way in hell I was getting trapped by some gold-digging bitch.

Fuck. Would this concert never end? We were playing Vegas, and the venue was sold out. It was our last show before heading home on Monday. The band had agreed we’d play Friday night, then fuck around for two days on the strip before flying back to L.A. Best fucking idea ever. I wasn’t big into gambling, but the bar at the Bellagio was calling my name. I was certain they had several bottles of vodka with my name on them. I just hadn’t decided if I was celebrating the fact that the kid wasn’t mine or trying to drown myself over the fuckery that was my life. When you’d fucked enough women that they all blurred together, and your reputation was so tattered those same women thought they could blackmail you, then maybe it was time to get off the merry-go-round.

The last few bars of the song played out, our final for this show, and I couldn’t wait to get the hell off the stage. The fans screamed and catcalled, all of them wanting a piece of us. It had been a thrill a minute when the stardom had first hit. I couldn’t believe how lucky we’d been, or that we were finally riding the top of the charts. There was this huge rush when we took the stage, or when some hot college girl tossed her panties at me, or better yet, informed me she wasn’t wearing any. I’d definitely earned my reputation as a panty dropper. I’d been proud as hell of the way women fawned all over me, until that wake-up call last week. Nothing can kill your buzz quicker than some chick claiming she got knocked up with your kid, some faceless stranger you fucked and forgot. Hell, I wasn’t even sure I’d ever learned her name before bending her over.

Backstage, I snagged a bottle of water and guzzled the entire damn thing. Tossing it into the trash, I braced myself for what came next. The adoring fans who had backstage passes. A VIP room had been set up for the occasion, and I knew those women only wanted one thing. To lay claim to one of us for the night, hell, even for an hour.

“You in a hurry to get your dick wet?” Simon asked with a leer. “A room full of free pussy, and it’s all ours for the taking.”

“I’m signing some autographs then I’m getting the fuck out of here,” I said as I stormed down the hallways toward a fate worse than death.

“Since when do you turn away free pussy?”

“Since Rochelle.” I’d tried not to utter that cunt’s name, but it was ingrained in my memory ever since I’d gotten the letter from her attorney.

Simon winced. “That was some rotten luck, but it all worked out. You demanded that paternity test and proved her to be the fucking liar that she is. You’re not going to let one woman fuck with your head like that, are you?”

I shrugged and pushed through the doors to the VIP room. The squeals and shrieks assaulted my ears as about six pairs of hands reached for me. Revulsion rolled through me as I looked at their too-heavy makeup and skin tight clothes. Why had I ever been attracted to women like these? They were desperate and didn’t care who they hurt, as long as they got what they wanted. Me.

Signing whatever they thrust my way—paper, water bottles, boobs—I finally made my way through the crowd and out the doors on the opposite side. When I rushed outside of the venue, I ignored the screaming fans, trusting that security would keep them off my back while I disappeared into the night. I took several detours, making sure I wasn’t followed, and finally arrived at the Bellagio. I’d stayed here before when I wasn’t touring with the band, and as I stepped inside, it felt like the building was welcoming me back. The place was packed, but I managed to find a spot at the end of the bar. Hopefully out of sight of everyone but the bartender.

I motioned for him to come over and ordered six shots of vodka. They burned on the way down as I slammed one after another. It would take a hell of a lot more to get me shitfaced, but it was a decent start. The next hour blurred as I downed everything from vodka to whiskey to Jagermeister.  I felt warm, and loose, and completely blissed out by the time I noticed her.

My eyes took in the neat updo and the prim glasses perched on her nose. The way she sipped at the fruity drink in front of her made me think this wasn’t her usual scene. The dress she had on was sexy yet sedate. Fuck if she didn’t make me burn hotter than the god damn sun. Her lips, a succulent berry color, fit around the straw of her red drink, and I watched as her gaze flitted around the room. The jackass next to her was so fucking drunk he nearly knocked her off the barstool twice, earning the creep a glare that would have made a cross nun proud. I half expected her to whip out a ruler and rap his knuckles with it.

Whoever this angel was, I knew I wanted to find out more about her, and I sure as fuck wasn’t going to do that sitting way over here. I shouldered my way through the crowd and shoved the drunk off his stool before claiming it for myself. She blinked up at me in surprise, the blue depths of her eyes pulling me in. The angel licked her lips as she leaned a little closer.

Holy Hell.

“Thank you,” she murmured, a slight slur to her words. Just how many of those drinks had she had?

“I won’t knock you off your stool, but I can’t promise I won’t sweep you off your feet.”

What. The. Fuck. Did that shit really just come out of my mouth?

She giggled, and her cheeks flushed pink. It was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen. She had this sexy librarian vibe going and my fingers itched to get her out of that dress. Was she wearing plain cotton underneath or something lacy and hot as fuck? I’d never chased a woman before, but this little beauty was enough to knock me to my knees. Yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of…

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Honey.”

My eyebrows rose. “Seriously?”

She shrugged a shoulder. “Honeysuckle. My mother was a hippy.”

Oh yeah, I’d gladly worship at the altar of Honey.

“Jace,” I said, holding out my hand.

 

About Harley

International Bestselling Author.
When Harley is writing, her motto is the hotter the better. Off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can’t deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you’ve come to the right place.

Visit Harley on her website, or you can follow her on BookBub or Amazon!

 

 

Acts of Contrition by Peri Elizabeth Scott #ReRelease #ContemporaryRomance @allysonyoung45

Acts of Contrition front

 

Making it up to Maggie

Harrison’s insecurities catch up with him when finds another man, albeit alone, in his girlfriend’s bed. Refusing to hear her explanation, he leaves her. His secretary then meddles in his affairs, effectively driving Maggie away with a vengeance. Upon discovering that woman’s perfidy, Harrison tries to remedy the situation, and then finds out Maggie is pregnant! Determined to win her back, Harrison does his best to provide and care for her from a distance while trying to insinuate himself back into her life.

Hurt and bewildered, Maggie couldn’t believe Harrison would stoop so low, but the evidence seems irrefutable. And now she’s worried Harrison wants her only because she carries his child.

Harrison’s world again spins out of control, and he wonders if he is the best man for Maggie and their child after all…

It’s up to Maggie to teach Harrison his real worth.

Begging Briana

Caleb Younger is certain he will never actually love any woman, having been badly burned in the past because of so-called love. He believes he’s fond of Briana Jeffries, has intense sexual feelings for her, and wants her in his life, but doesn’t love her.

Humiliated, when he says as much while amongst their friends, Briana finally accepts she’s been fooling herself—Caleb will never love her. She leaves him to get on with her life.

His life now empty, Caleb faces the truth. He loves Briana more than anything, and resorts to everything to get her back. But Briana’s friend doesn’t want Briana hurt again and conspires to keep the two apart. A series of events and coincidences play out, giving Caleb the opportunity to beg Briana to take him back.

Buy Links:  https://www.books2read.com/u/3L0AG1

                    https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KXLBC9S

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Making It Up to Maggie

Harrison increased his grip on the steering wheel of his SUV to a stranglehold. It was the only thing keeping him from jumping out and grabbing Maggie, throwing her in the back seat, and driving off with her. Sanity prevailed, but it was a close call. He marveled again at how a slip of a woman had infiltrated his psyche and undermined his self-control, not to mention teaching him so much on the subject of himself. Before he’d gone and royally screwed things up.

She stood outside the doors of the office building with two of her friends. Even at a distance, he saw her energy and light while she conversed animatedly with Veronica and Joyce, although he’d noticed shadows beneath her eyes and a certain gauntness hollowing her cheeks whenever he’d been able to get closer to her.

Her blonde hair streamed around her shoulders in the gusty wind, and her dress was pulled tightly against her long, slender frame, molding her high breasts and the slight, swelling roundness of her belly. His baby was growing there.

Harrison was missing out on every wondrous day of that burgeoning life and the woman he desired and loved more than anything else in the world. Missing out because of his stupid masculine pride and ego.

He closed his eyes against the pain in his heart and the clenching of his gut. He didn’t know what else he might do to make amends for his atrocious behavior, to regain Maggie’s trust. Nothing. He had to accept that. He would do his best to care for her, provide for her and his child, but from a distance. He was his father’s son, after all, and she deserved better, as did their child. He’d proven he had nothing to offer outside of the basics and the superficial because blood would tell. As would nature over nurture.

 

Begging Briana

Tossing several items of clothing into her suitcase, Briana Jeffries then found a plastic makeup bag to stick a few toiletries in. It had taken a long time to accept the obvious but she’d finally accepted the fact Caleb wasn’t going to miraculously profess his love for her. Tonight had been the kicker.

She ignored the ache in her chest and concentrated on packing the things she needed, not that there were a lot. No way was she going to think about what was true. Except she couldn’t turn a blind eye. She loved Caleb and he didn’t love her. There. She said it again and that made it true.

Swiping impatiently at the tears suddenly streaking her face, she zipped the bag closed, taking a final look around the bedroom she shared with the love of her life for nearly three years. Too bad she hadn’t been the love of his. It was time to move on. Christina would be outside by now.

Hurrying down the stairs of the place she’d hoped would be her forever home, she steadfastly ignored all the little things she’d done to make it so, especially the plethora of pictures. The reflection of beautiful places and events, smiling, happy faces, pictures of her and Caleb, mocked her despite her best efforts not to look. Caleb must be blind not to see what they had between them, captured for the world to see, but apparently, it was her love that was blind. After throwing open the front door she hauled her case outside, barely avoiding the rebound of the heavy wooden panel as it slammed shut behind her, her keys now locked within. Final. No going back.

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Peri Elizabeth Scott aka Allyson Young lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada where she and her husband pretend to work well together in their seasonal business.

She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. That was followed by a mix of spicy (Ally) and sweet (Peribeth) romances in various genres as well as a post-apocalyptic adventure without a lick of romance by Peribeth.

A bestselling Amazon author, a hybrid, and a coauthor, as of November 2018 she has published seven series and several standalones, with others in the works.

www.perielizabethscott.com

https://www.facebook.com/sweetnspicyauthor/

Don’t Hold Back by Lynn Burke#BDSM #RomanceBooks #OlderHero #Contemprary @AuthorLynnBurke @changelingpress

Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come
with submitting her body—and heart?…

Don't Hold Back (Darkest Desires 3)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: BDSM, Contemporary, Dark Desire,
Silver Fox (older man), 2nd Chance Romance

Kelly Sadel has lived her life by a feels-o-meter since showing emotion as a kid was a big no-no. A timid analyst and fur baby momma, she avoids anything that stirs up her boring life. Secretly, she crushes on the man who rides the elevator with her every morning—he’s a unicorn amidst an office full of conservative short-hairs. He also sets her nerves on edge, topping her feels-o’meter to the limit, an oh-no in her carefully constructed world.

Accidentally dumping a box of cupcakes on his loafers grabs his unwanted attention, and he isn’t too quick to let go.

Jamison Byrne has worked his way through the submissives at Monique’s club hoping to find his own little subbie. He wants a collared sub, a woman to enjoy mutual pleasure his ropes bring without getting emotionally involved beyond scening.

Manipulation comes easy from years of life beneath a narcissistic asshole’s thumb, and Jamison finally gets Kelly to relent—but with her only agreeing to be friends. Jamison sweeps in but finds his feet swept beneath him as her nurturing nature opens him in ways he never expected. Sure he has found his “person,” he needs to find a way to share his darker desires and get Kelly to stop holding back and feel. He knows he can set her free, but does she want him to? Can he help her find the courage to face the emotions that come with submitting her body—and heart?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for November 30th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Lynne Burke

Kelly

The best part of being an analyst for Kirchoff Energy on the third floor of the office building in downtown Baltimore? Jamison Byrne in all his hot arrogance often hopped aboard the elevator, heading to the fourth floor for Davidoff Finance Corp.

Easily six feet or maybe an inch taller, he was a golden blondie with dark, piercing eyes and full lips that needed to be nibbled. Along with that, he had wide shoulders, a trim waist, and the most perfectly formed backside.

But he wasn’t my type. Nope. I preferred sweet, shy nerds. Not that I dated much. To be honest, I’d had two dates in the previous two years. Sure, I had the usual social media profiles, but the thoughts of signing up for one of those dating sites scared the crap out of me. Friendships were all fine and good — as long as I didn’t have to stomach strong feelings. I couldn’t handle them.

But Jamison… I drooled over him every morning I was lucky enough to share the elevator with him — and the other half-dozen people who stuffed in with us. He carried this mysterious air, a confidence that attracted yet repelled me at the same time. In an office of conservative short hairs, he had longer locks and kept scruff on his jaw… he even smelled damn delicious. A true unicorn in a field of rhinos.

He also set my nerves on edge.

I’d never spoken to him, never touched him, but my hands shook and knees weakened whenever he stepped into the elevator. I’d heard rumors from my co-workers on Friday that the hottie from Davidoff Financial upstairs modeled for romance novel covers. The idea didn’t surprise me — he had the body and look for it — and boy, did I enjoy looking.

Not that I wanted him.

On Monday, one of my coworkers celebrated her fiftieth birthday, so I stopped by a bakery to get black-icing cupcakes. I carried the white box in front of me, so scared of dropping the damn thing that I didn’t take care when entering the elevator. Thinking I’d gone in far enough, I turned, and nailed the person shuffling in behind me with the box.
White cardboard — flimsy as shit — flew from my hands, and in slow motion just like a cartoon, it fell to the floor as I leapt toward the damn thing. “Shit! No!” I bit off the word as the box landed on leather loafers I knew well.

Heat crept up my chest, and I quickly squatted without lifting my head, pushing up my too-big glasses. “I’m so sorry!” I grabbed at the scattered cupcakes, smearing frosting all over my fingers — and his shoes.

“It’s okay.” That low, rumbly tone swept down my spine, straight to the loneliest place on earth, springing dampness to life between my thighs. “Let me help.”

Jamison Byrne in all his slow, seductive sexiness, crouched down in front of me, his jeans tightening across his thighs and showcasing a bulge worth drooling over. No wonder he modeled for romance novels.

My mouth watered, and I snapped my jaw shut to swallow, realizing I stared at his groin. My God. Pure heat flooded my face as the elevator door slid shut with only two others stepping in the join us in the mess I’d made.

“Y-you don’t have to do that,” I told him as our fellow patrons of the elevator shuffled around to stay away from the mess.

Jamison picked up a cupcake and dropped it in the askew box beside me, icing coating one of his fingers.

I wanted to lick it off. No, I just wanted his finger in my mouth.

My insides trembled like a bowl of gelatin, like the final leaves on the trees outside, and I refused to lift my gaze to his face. He was a mere three feet away, if I looked into his eyes, my insides would be wrecked, flooded with feelings topping out my feels-o-meter with its ten limit.

I leaned forward to grab the last cupcake at the same time he did. Our hands brushed, and lightening split my mind, tearing a gasp past my lips. My attention jerked up, my gaze landing on his face.

Dark eyes, so black they should have looked like a shark’s, with a dead and unfeeling gaze. But the intensity of his stare, the heat in those orbs pebbled my skin. My jaw slackened. Brain erupted in chaos, my feels-o-meter spiking beyond a mere ten.

He glanced at the ID hanging around my neck. “Kelly Sadel.”

Did I nod? I couldn’t remember, but I became very conscious of the fact my low-cut blouse revealed the girls spilling from my bra.

“Jamison Byrne.” He held out his hand.

“Y-yes, I know.” My voice shook as badly as my hands as I lifted up a bit to lessen the peek show and then shoved the box’s lid down, rudely ignoring his hand. No way in hell I could touch the man again. He’d already ruined a pair of my panties. “I mean — I don’t know. Er… well, I’ve heard of you, that is. Mr. Byrne of Davidoff Financial.”

His chuckle lit all kinds of butterflies in my stomach, and a shaky smile pullaed at my lips as I fought to control the turmoil in my brain.

“I’m sorry.” Heat flooded my cheeks anew. “I’m so, so sorry.” I struggled to stand, my purse dangling from my forearm, the wrecked box in my hands, my glasses tilting again. “I don’t even have a tissue to offer you for your shoes and I should. Allergy season, you know? The ragweed kills me every time this year.” The box wobbled in my shaking arms.

Jamison grasped my elbow and steadied me, jerking my gaze up to his face again. He towered over my five-foot-two, and his divine scent, spice with a hint of wintergreen… it stuck to my nose, coated my lungs. I couldn’t breathe him in deeply enough.

G-good God. So pretty. So golden. Beautiful, beautiful, boy…

“Steady?” he asked, his lush-looking lips still smiling.

I nodded like a dumb idiot even though I would much rather have said no in the hope his warm hold on my elbow would linger. What would that large hand feel like sliding up my arm to grasp my nape? Would I swoon if he lowered his head and swept his lips over mine? Lips, perfectly bowed and pink… soft looking. Delicious, actually —

 

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of hot romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Painter’s Pride by Emily Carrington #Gay #RomanceBooks #LGBT #Christmas #holidayromance @CarringtonEmily @changelingpress

The Christmas holiday brings Aaron no hope for his art, but Jason does.

Painter's Pride (Christmas Spirits 2)

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Angela Knight
Genres/Themes: Christmas, Gay, Contemporary

Jason and Aaron have been together since Aaron was a freshman. Now Aaron is a senior and getting ready to pursue his art career in NYC. But Aaron, growing up poor, can’t quite believe that anyone would want to help him support his talent – not even his lover, Jason. As they near the holidays, Aaron sinks into despair.

Jason believes in Aaron, but his boyfriend’s refusal to let him help is pulling them apart. Will the season of hope bring them together or will it destroy their love forever?

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Pre-Order for November 30th at Amazon, B&N, iTunes, and Kobo

 

BEHIND THE BOOK

This short story is part of a much longer series tentatively called Year of the Queer. This first installment doesn’t have the series title because it also works great as a stand alone.

Over twenty years ago, I began the series of which Painter’s Pride is the first book. I started these books with a simple idea: what if LGBTQ people from all over a certain geographical area all had one touchstone: a drag queen named Griffin whose own dark past leads her to seek out other broken souls? The series, when complete, will include the following: two full-length novels and five or six novellas. In addition, there will be other “shorts” like Painter’s Pride centered around the holidays in the lives of the characters.

Here’s a little about the one novel and novella that are finished and should be published in 2019:

First story: The Prince and the Painter: This is the story of Jason and Aaron, the couple from Painter’s Pride, and how they find each other during Aaron’s first year of college.

Blurb: Aaron Spencer grew up keeping secrets. The depth of his family’s poverty is the least. When his boyfriend-in-the-closet is murdered and Aaron is raped by one of the murderers, he buries it in the hopes that if he leaves town, he’ll be able to put it all behind him.

Jason Cooper also lost a friend to that murderer. Fully living in the sunlight as a bisexual man, he is taken by Aaron’s grace and androgynous beauty at once. He raws the younger man to him and together they begin a new life.

But the man who raped Aaron still wants him—and this time he means to keep his prize. Can Aaron and Jason triumph over such despotic lust and come to their own love?

Second story: This second story, a novella, is finished but has no title as of yet. (Titles are one of my weaknesses and I may turn the finding of a title into a contest.)

Blurb: Krys is trans, f2m. Krys has cancer, although it is in remission. When he meets an oncologist-to-be who is sexy, passionate, and kind, Krys falls for him immediately.

Daiden enjoys Krys’s company, but Krys’s lingering belief that he’s going to die and leave Daiden as others have left both men in the past makes it impossible for him to truly get close to the person he dreams of day and night.

 

EXCERPT

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Emily Carrington

Jason Cooper slung his satchel over one of the sturdy pegs of the oak coat tree. That piece of furniture had been a gift from his brother, Chris, who ran a carpentry business back in their hometown of Lilacville, New York. It could hold at least three heavy bags without tipping over. Jason and his two roommates had repeatedly tested that claim and never found it false.

“So?” one of his roommates, Daiden, asked as he poked his head out of the bedroom he shared with his husband, Krys. “Was your scouting venture successful?” Tousle-haired and bleary-eyed, he’d clearly just woken up. Considering his usual twelve-hour shifts as one of NYC’s best oncologists, Jason didn’t blame him for sleeping in the middle of the day.

“Where’s Krys?” he countered as he kicked off his sandals and left them beside the coat tree. It was a Saturday; he should be home.

“Last I knew, he was going shopping. He said we needed to make a good impression on your guest.”

Good impression. Yeah, right. Krys and Daiden had done nothing but needle Jason about his two-year, long-distance relationship with Aaron. Not because they didn’t know and like Aaron but because… Well, each had his reasons. Krys thought Aaron would miss living in the country too much to ever settle down in Manhattan. Daiden was of a mind that Aaron was too “proud about being poor” to ever live in a vaulted-ceilinged, hardwood-floored apartment with Jason. “The only way he’ll ever settle in is if he strikes gold with his paintings first thing.”

Jason sort of believed Daiden.

“So, how did it go?” Daiden asked.

“I got the tickets. Are you sure I can borrow your picnic blanket?”

“Absolutely. And the hamper too. There’s nothing like sitting out under the sun in Central Park and enjoying a little al fresco lunch.”

Jason was fully aware of the tension crawling up the back of his neck. Even though the tickets had been free, it was a “donations expected” concert put on by the Philharmonic. All proceeds would go to Manhattan’s underprivileged schools for their music programs. Ninety percent of the public institutions in NYC were disadvantaged. Jason worked at one of these schools. Not only had his choice two years ago given him a trial by fire, but his student loans had been forgiven.

He would simply have to find a way to slip the orchestra money without Aaron knowing how much. Because Aaron would only be able to afford a dollar or two.

Jason went into his bedroom and shoved everything in the closet over to the left. Then he began extracting hangers. Aaron was as much of a neat freak as he was; it simply wouldn’t do for his week’s worth of clothes to be crammed into the suitcase during those seven days.

Aaron didn’t visit often and, because of his school schedule, neither did Jason. But now Aaron had said he was ready to take the plunge. After his final semester of school in the fall, he would be moving in with Jason, Daiden, and Krys.

Jason could hardly be more thrilled by the prospect. Just so long as Aaron’s “I have to pay for everything myself” streak of pride didn’t drive him crazy, he could see them settling down together happily. He’d loved Aaron since nearly their first meeting and he could only see joy in any future they made together.

Once he was done preparing the closet, he triple-checked his nightstand for condoms and lube. For six months after Aaron had been raped, they’d used condoms in case the monster had AIDS. They’d both started to enjoy not having to change the sheets as frequently.

Only when he was ensuring that all the squares in his quilt were perfectly straight and flat did Jason admit he was trying to kill time before Aaron’s bus arrived. The fact that Aaron wasn’t coming until tomorrow underlined Jason’s nervousness. Aaron had seen this room in its summer neatness and its mid-school-year disorder. Yes, but last time he wasn’t getting ready to move in here. I want to show him my best face.

* * *

Jason had always asked him to wait in the bus station. Today especially Aaron didn’t mind since he had luggage and it was ten blocks to Jason’s house. On those occasions when Aaron’s bus got in before sunrise, he understood his boyfriend’s caution.

He really didn’t mind waiting for Jason under normal circumstances. It was just the guy scoping him out from three chairs down. He’d gotten on the bus about an hour before this final stop and he’d sat next to Aaron. There hadn’t been many other open seats so Aaron hadn’t argued. But the guy reeked of cologne and he kept trying to chat Aaron up. Once they’d reached their destination and Aaron hadn’t given the man more than his first name and the news that he was going to visit his boyfriend, he’d assumed that would be the end of the matter. But here the dude was, actually approaching him with a sneaky little grin.

He plopped down right next to Aaron, nudging Aaron’s foot with his boot. “Yeah, you know, your ‘boyfriend’” — Aaron could hear the sarcasm quotes –”isn’t here yet. We could go get a cup of coffee.”

Aaron pulled his suitcase closer. He wasn’t really afraid the reprobate would steal it, that didn’t seem to be what he was after, but having the luggage close made him feel safer. “No thank you. Jason will be here soon.”

“If he really loved you, he would have been waiting.”

Jason usually was waiting. Aaron felt a twinge of unease. Not that he believed Jason didn’t love him but it was so unlike Jason to be late for anything.

The hand on his knee startled him. And when it scooted higher, he stiffened.

“Blow me,” the guy whispered. “We’ll go in an alley — I know one nearby. I’ll pay you $50. How would that be?”

Aaron got up, stumbled over his suitcase, and almost fell. Did he look that poor?

“Whoa.” The man was right after Aaron, catching his arm in an iron grip. “Relax. I can’t be the first guy you’ve blown for cash.”

He did think Aaron was that poor. Or that he looked like a prostitute.

“Aaron!” Jason shoved his way between them, acting like he didn’t even see the jerk, although he did take the time to discreetly break the hold on Aaron’s bicep. “I’m sorry I’m late. My alarm didn’t go off.”

Aaron forced himself not to sag against his lover. He looked at the man — and saw him slinking away. Aaron glanced down and saw his suitcase was still where it belonged.

“Are you okay?”

Aaron nodded. “I just… Some guys don’t know no means no.” He decided not to tell Jason he’d been mistaken for a prostitute. He wasn’t wearing anything revealing, although his jeans were a little tight because he found that style the most comfortable.

He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand. “Let’s get out of here.”

* * *

He’d seen the inside of Jason’s apartment before, of course, but Aaron couldn’t help seeing it with fresh eyes. In less than six months, he’d be living here. The hardwood floors, the crown moldings, the built-ins… this place was too beautiful for the likes of him.

That’s not quite true. I deserve as much as anyone else. I survived Vance’s attacks and kidnapping as well as Isaiah’s attention. It’s just that I haven’t earned this yet. Maybe I should have tried to become a teacher.

“Aaron!” Daiden appeared, grinning. He was dressed for work already and had his lunch bag in one hand, his briefcase in the other. “Glad you made it safe.”

Krys was just behind him, dressed in a conservative suit. He’d stopped teaching at State University of New York’s Besker College in favor of working for the United Nations full time about a year ago. He looked good. His second bout of cancer must be abating. He grinned at Aaron. “You looked a little peaked.”

Aaron tried to shrug it off. “Getting up at one to catch a bus at two is a little rough,” he admitted.

“Jason has all summer off,” Daiden said as he headed for the door. “You could have taken a later bus.”

Which would have been more expense. “I don’t mind,” he answered.

Krys and Daiden disappeared out the door.

And Jason came to Aaron’s side, taking his hand and kissing it. “Are you really okay?”

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Emily Carrington has been writing m/m erotic romance (specializing in urban fantasy) since 2010. She is currently branching out into the other letters of the LGBTQ rainbow. She lives in Maryland with her guide dog. For short stories about the main and side characters in her books, please visit her website.

Website: emilycarrington.com/

Goodreads: goodreads.com/author/show/4619715.Emily_Carrington

Facebook: facebook.com/emily.carrington.370

Twitter twitter.com/CarringtonEmily

Tomcat Jones by Willa Okati #NewRelease #GayRomance #LGBT #paperback @changelingpress @willaokati ‏

Shapeshifting, love-shy Tomcat Jones is falling for sweet
sex-bomb wizard MacGowan. Let the fur fly!

 

Tomcat Jones

Publisher: Changeling Press
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
Genres/Themes: Box Set, Contemporary, Gay
Length: 405 pages

 

Tomcat Jones: Shape-shifting tomcat T.J. Jones never believed in love — until he runs into MacGowan, a smoking-hot beach boy with an open heart and a sweet smile.

Buddy Holiday: T.J.’s a man with a plan. He intends to ask his wizard lover MacGowan to officially move in with him and make this the best Festivus ever. He keeps getting distracted by MacGowan’s hot bod. Happy Holidays?

Karma Chameleon: Arden needs Shavey’s help breaking a chameleonic shape-shifting curse. There are a few things big bad bear Shavey would like to ask for — and intends to prove to Arden — in return.

Publisher’s Note: One of Willa’s funniest. Best not eat or drink while reading!

 

Get it Today at Changeling Press

Also available in paperback

 

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All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2018 Willa Okati
Excerpt from Tomcat Jones

“Being ‘in love’” — T.J. made quote fingers — “never changes anything.”

Arden gave the grocery cart a hard shove to get it past a sticky mess of spilled pickle juice on the aisle floor. “The hell it doesn’t. Are you stoned? That reminds me. Corn chips or Pringles?”

“Why limit ourselves? Doritos.” T.J. stretched up to tip the topmost bag on the shelf into their cart. It landed with a crunchy paft!noise between two cans of guacamole and a tub of sour cream. “Mmm. I can feel your arteries hardening as we speak.”

“Mine?” Arden, tall and skinny and towheaded, grabbed a jar of peanuts and read the nutritional information, snickering to himself. “Where are you in all of this coronary failure, standing nobly by with a skull in your hand, saying ‘alas, we hardly knew you’?”

T.J. had to stretch up on tiptoe to manage it but bounced his palm off the back of Arden’s head with a sharp snap of the wrist. “No. For one, you’re misquoting. For another, there’s no way I’m eating any of this crap.”

“Liar. You say you’ll stick to celery, but before we know it, you’ll be in the ranch dip and then the tofu chili wings will go down. It’ll be slaughter, I tell you. Wholesale slaughter of innocent soybeans. Ugh. Speaking of which, ranch dip or blue cheese? If I’m having a heart attack, I’m taking you with me, pal.”

“Yeah, yeah.” T.J. swung the cart around to face due south. “Black bean burgers. That’s what I want.”

“You are a disgrace to testicles everywhere.”

“If it’ll make you happy, I’ll eat two of them on a white bun, add three slices of cheese, and douse the whole thing in ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise.”

“Soy cheese? How many things can they make out of one innocent bean?”

“You’d be surprised. And no, not soy cheese. Processed. American. Orange-colored glue. Mmm-mmm.”

Arden considered that. “Acceptable compromise.”

“Never should have gotten you that word-a-day calendar.”

“Smart-ass.”

T.J. shrugged. “We’re all good at what we’re good at.”

“Very Zen. Which is why, in the whole of God’s green creation, I don’t get a vegetarian cat.”

T.J. stopped the cart to grab Arden by the lapel and yank. “Not in public, jackass!”

“Like anyone would make the connection between one innocent teeny statement and your being a shape-sh –”

Arden.”

His friend had the grace to look embarrassed. Not convincingly, true, but at least he made the effort. “I’ll lower my voice if you tell me how that makes sense.”

T.J. let go of him. Reluctantly. “If you’d ever woken up with feathers stuck between your teeth, you’d understand.”

“Huh.” Arden took control of the cart, mounded high with junk food, and pushed it forward. His forehead furrowed. “So you’re saying you prefer the all-processed taste of Chik’n instead?”

“God, no.” T.J. kicked the cart’s squeaky wheel, stuck on a shred of a coupon. “Anyway, what I was saying was that it’s a Hollywood myth, love changing people. If you even believe in love. A few chemicals swirl around in a guy’s brain. He might lie, but he won’t honestly become a different person.”

“And I was rebutting you. Successfully.”

“Random swearing does not a ‘successful’ comeback make.”

“Usually works for me.” Arden propped his hip on the cart. “And here all I’d said was ‘love makes people stupid.’ Interesting response to my normal state of running off at the mouth. Methinks I tapped a hot spot. Share with the rest of the class.”

T.J. scrunched his hair, the curly blond-brown mess overdue for a cut forever in his eyes, out of his face and sighed. “Do you remember the tabloid we passed a couple of aisles back? You know, the one left open-faced on top of the toilet paper display?”

Arden snorted. Eloquently. “The one that swore Prince William was an alien?”

“That too. It also had a giant red headline: ‘IS YOUR LOVE CHEATING? SIGNS POINT TO YES!’ Look at the divorce rates. Look at how many people break up right before Valentine’s Day or Christmas to avoid buying a gift. They might have thought they were in love, whatever they decide love might be, but they and the rest of us sorry folk are basically liars, cheats, and bastards who’ll do what it takes to get laid and then walk away without regret.”

Arden’s eyebrow climbed skyward. “Bitter. Nice. Who pissed in your cornflakes this morning? You actually believe that line of crap?”

“Damn right I do, and I challenge anyone to prove me wrong. Jeez, what did someone spill on this part of the floor?” T.J. tentatively toed the glutinous off-white goop glued to the linoleum beneath his feet. “Before you say it, Arden, I don’t think it’s spunk.”

“Given how much you like the cock, I’ll take your word for it. Which brings me back around to pondering the mystery that is your being a vegetarian c-a-t.”

“Arden…”

“What? I spelled it.”

“If you weren’t my closest friend, I’d be obliged to kill you. You know I have the…” T.J. lowered his voice, “shifting under control now. I haven’t slipped up in almost a year.”

“Uh-huh. So that wasn’t you purring in your sleep in the passenger seat on the way to the store.”

“What? I was not. Was I?”

“I had to fight the urge to hang a bell around your neck and waft some catnip under your nose. It was adorable.”

T.J. looked at him. Silently. At length. Then, he moved on.

“I was kidding, you big dork.” Arden caught up. “Mr. Jontan wanted pizza rolls.” He put his foot on the cart to stop it rolling. “You’re a cat. Yeah, yeah, I know, shhh. You’re neat, clever, sweet when you purr, and you’re a sucker for being skritched behind your ears. Isn’t that love?”

“Nope. Have you ever known a cat to play affectionate with anyone unless they felt like it? Or who didn’t walk away as soon as they were bored? I know what I’m talking about.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. You’re not harshing my mellow, friend. I’m a hound dog all the way, and I’m a believer.”

“No, you’ll do anything that looks at you sideways and has a pulse. All you do, by existing, is prove my point. And hound dog, my ass. What you really want is a good master with a firm hand and a sack of treats. Admit it.”

Arden grumbled under his breath and looked away, pretending to give too much interest in a display of pudding cups. “Mistress,” he mumbled under his breath. “And no. You’re completely wrong. As usual.”

“You keep telling yourself that.” Scoring a point over Arden made for the highlight of T.J.’s day. He pushed hard and sent the cart squealing forward to the end of the junk-food aisle, aiming for a freestanding display of bite-sized powdered doughnuts. “Who’s the king?”

His cart collided with the edge of one approaching at a perpendicular angle and ricocheted into the juice boxes. An oof came from whoever had been manning the assaulted cart.

“Fuck. I am so sorry.” T.J. jogged to the end of the aisle, ready to blame it all on Arden, who’d probably let him get away with it. What else were friends for? “Are you okay?”

The man behind the cart, rubbing his stomach where the cart had hit him, looked up at T.J. through casual tumbles of hair streaked glossy sepia and ebony. His eyes were as gray as summer storms, and they twinkled. “I think I’ll live.”

“Mphurgle,” T.J. said, caught in the spell of the scent of sand and surf, coconut oil and leather, and something spicy that the man carried with him.

The man’s grin broadened. He held out a hand for T.J. to shake, his wrist bedizened with knitted, woven, and small shell bracelets. Small tattoos trailed a line from pulse point to elbow. “MacGowan Smith. Haven’t I seen you around somewhere?”

“T.J. Jones.” We haven’t met. Trust me, I’d remember you.

MacGowan’s palm and fingers were slim and nimble, hands designed by nature for precision work. Was he a surgeon, a pianist, a painter? There was no way for T.J. not to imagine that agile touch skimming down his chest, his legs, over his hips, kneading his ass… and that was as far as that thought needed to go, or he really would get a boner next to the Freeze-Em Popsicles. That kind of thing was hard to explain away to random strangers, smoking hot or not, especially red-hot-chili “hot.”

Lucky for him, MacGowan hadn’t yet looked below T.J.’s neck. He snapped his fingers. “The DuBrewer complex. You live there too, right? I saw you and that guy behind you, upstairs from me, when I got my keys.”

T.J. replayed that in his head to make sure he’d heard MacGowan right. “You’re moving into L-one?” The empty apartment beneath his, ground-floor level, with a front door that opened on the foot of his apartment’s staircase. No way. No one got that lucky. Especially not a mostly vegetarian tomcat-slash-man, or the other way around.

“Me and no one else,” MacGowan agreed sunnily. He had a sweet West Coast accent, Napa Valley maybe. It added both drawl and lilt to his way of speaking. He eyed T.J. His good cheer softened and warmed around the edges. “I’m glad I was right. I’d hope there’s no way I could forget a man like you.”

“A guy like what, huh now?”

“I should be all moved in by tonight,” MacGowan said. He wheeled his cart around. Chicken. Steak. Pork chops. Sausage. A six-pack of Pacific beer. One lonely zucchini in the middle. “Come by and visit, if you want.” He lingered over one last look before he turned to walk away, tipping T.J. a backward wave, shell bracelets clicking quietly. “Anytime you want.”

“Put your eyes back in your head and close your mouth before you start catching flies,” Arden muttered as he joined T.J. “You look like a constipated parrot.”

“Whatever.” T.J. stared after MacGowan. “Arden, what just happened here?”

“I’d say you got owned.” Arden studied MacGowan’s backside. “Huh. Not that I can blame you for drooling. I’d do him.”

“You’re not even gay.”

“My point exactly. So he lives downstairs? How very convenient. Naughty neighbors, I like it.” Arden patted T.J. on the back. “This could be interesting. For me, especially. You know I get off on watching, baby.”

T.J. shoved Arden halfheartedly. “Put a cork in it.” He closed his eyes to better breathe in and appreciate the last traces of MacGowan’s scent.

And purred.

He slapped a hand over his mouth while Arden, ever helpful, chortled. He slapped T.J.’s back. “Told you that you were purring on the drive in. Well, now. Life’s about to get a hell of a lot more interesting around here. Love at first sight is just swishy chemicals, isn’t that what you were saying?”

T.J. glared at him. He had a great insult on the tip of his tongue, but blast his luck, all he came out with was: “Purr.”

Interesting? Yeah. That’d be one way to put it.

 

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Willa Okati is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, and a lifelong love of storytelling. She is definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for.

You can reach Willa at willaokati@gmail.com.

Join Willa on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/willa.okati

Without Condition by Lynn Burke #Contemporary #MayDecember #EroticRomance #NewRelease @AuthorLynnBurke

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Without Condition

Sandy Ridge 3

By Lynn Burke

Heat Level: 4

Release Date: November 14, 2018

Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, May December, Series, HEA, Novella

*Be warned: Anal sex, spanking

Nothing but Kayla’s fingers and not-so-trusty vibrator have given her an orgasm in almost a year, and the one man she’s hell-bent on breaking her losing streak hides behind his badge. Detective “Hottie Pants” Ford thwarts her every attempt at seduction, and even though vandalisms, a trashed apartment, and physical assault keeps throwing them together, he refuses to attempt a relationship ever again.

She sees past his façade into the man hiding his pain behind unbreakable rules and inflexible conditions, but even after the fiery chemistry between them ignites, she struggles to prove to him she is nothing like the woman who jaded him for life.

Heartbroken, Kayla decides on a vacation to help her peace of mind—and ends up at Sandy Ridge. With danger hot on her heels, can the man she turns to first recognize Kayla for who she is? Will he give her the chance she needs to let him know she wants him without condition, before it’s too late?

PURCHASE LINKS:

books2Read: https://www.books2read.com/b/bxZXkD

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07K2GCRL4

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07K2GCRL4

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/without-condition-lynn-burke/1129805158

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/without-condition

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/without-condition/id1440823694

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/904254

WC_SlideshowImage

WARNING 18+ ONLY!

ADULT EXCERPT:

Detective Ford’s gaze dropped to her mouth. “I can’t do this again.”

“Do what?” Kayla whispered even though he spoke as though to himself.

A muscle in his clenched jaw ticked, and it took him a few seconds to answer.

“Get involved.”

I’m not her, she thought to argue, but what did he know beyond the truth of her life? A rich young woman over ten years his junior whose daddy spoiled her rotten… Thinking he might turn on his heel and walk out without her even getting a chance to taste his lips twisted Kayla’s stomach.

“I don’t want a house and the picket fence, Detective.” The words spilled from her.

“Jacob,” he murmured, his gaze still on her lips.

“I don’t dream about rainbows and unicorns, Jacob,” Kayla whispered, her mind set on having him, giving her more boldness than usual. “I dream about your skin pressed against mine. Your mouth on my body, giving me what I want.”

He blinked, his gaze jerking up to her eyes, and he lifted his chin just enough, it felt as though he peered down at her. “Tell me what you want, Kayla.”

Alpha and commanding… yes, please. Emboldened, Kayla looked up at him through her lashes.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Jacob worked his jaw and thank fuck, lust rose to shimmer in his eyes.

“I’m not a gentle man.”

“I don’t want gentle.”

“I don’t do the cuddle and pillow talk bullshit after fucking a woman.”

All in, Kayla wasn’t about to hold back.

“Can’t cuddle and pillow talk if you bend me over the table in the back room.”

The man didn’t even flinch. “Conflict of interest, then.”

Kayla huffed a snort and dropped her arms, determined to win her way into the damn man’s slacks. She approached on trembling legs, her heartbeat pounding in her chest. His gray striped tie beckoned to her, and she slid the material between two fingers, trailing downward until she reached the end. Her fingertips rested on his belt buckle, and she lifted her gaze.

“Bullshit excuses,” she whispered.

His breath left in a rush, fanning her face with the scent of wintergreen.

“Kayla…”

“Jacob.” She quirked the corner of her lip.

War raged in his eyes, tensing his body looming over hers. That jaded, he probably hadn’t been intimate with too many women since his ex.

“Can I touch you?” she asked, breathless as hell and soaked through the bit of satin covering her throbbing pussy. Kayla slowly slid her hand downward, and when Jacob didn’t stop her, she found his cock, hard and heavy along his left thigh.

“You want me.”

His lips pursed, and Kayla squeezed his impressive girth, drawing a groan from his chest deep enough his mouth parted.

“Yes.” The whispered confession left his lips, and he grabbed her, yanking her full against his body. He crushed his mouth to hers before her held breath escaped, his soft yet demanding lips spinning her head. One hand fisted in her hair, Jacob tilted her head, thrusting his tongue between her lips.

Kayla moaned and sagged against him as his tongue swept along hers, tasting and devouring exactly as she’d hoped.

© Lynn Burke 2018

ABOUT LYNN BURKE:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlynnburke/

Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/authorlynnburke

BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/lynn-burke

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