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Razed…available now!

Razed

 

“I knew I didn’t want dating advice from you two.” She was not going to discuss sex with Javi standing right there. She wasn’t. Absolutely not.

“Hey, this isn’t bad advice. Besides . . . you know how bad an idea it is to get drunk around a guy you don’t know.”

An ugly headache started to pound at the base of her skull. Yes. Keelie knew full well how bad an idea that was. But all she said was, “That’s why I don’t generally drink when I’m going out on a first . . . or even a second or third date.” She didn’t drink much and when she did, it was only within the company of friends.

Anais waved a hand. “Just order a beer at the bar. That’s all you need. One drink. You’ll loosen up a little. Now . . . the most important thing . . . and I mean it, this is serious shit.”

Keelie lifted a brow. “You understand the concept of serious, Ani?”

“Absolutely. But only in reference to men and metal.” Anais did take metal seriously.  As the only piercer they had on staff at Steel Ink, that was a good thing.  She excelled at her job.  And the men definitely loved her.  “Now, are you listening to me or not?”

“I’m all ears.” And she was. Considering that Anais actually looked halfway serious, Keelie wanted to know just what would her friend considered serious.

“So am I.”

Keelie shot Javi a look. Part of her suspected she should make him to leave. There was no telling what would come out of Anais’s mouth. She had no filter. None. But Javi was like a brother to her and if what Anais had to say was going to embarrass her, it would likely embarrass Javi, too. Keelie believed in sharing the misery.

Unaffected by Javi’s presence, Anais pinned Keelie with a wide, direct stare. “Listen, no matter what, no matter how hot you think this guy is—and he is hot, I’ve seen him—no matter how hot he is, you can’t give him a blow job on the first date.”

The bell over the front door jingled, shattering the silence that had fallen after Anais’s declaration.

She might have said something—anything—to ease the embarrassment crawling through her.

But then she heard a familiar voice.

“Hey . . . anybody around?”

That embarrassment exploded and, suddenly, she had a hard time breathing. Her heart raced. Blood crashed in her ears. Her hands felt hot and sweaty.

“Did you hear me, Keelie?” Anais asked, lifted a brow. The hoop there caught the line, shining back. “No blow—”

Blow jobs. She clapped her hand over Anais’s mouth just as Zane Barnes appeared in the doorway. Yes. It was exactly who she’d thought it was. Anais was going on about blow jobs and now—

An image formed in her mind. Full-blown, so detailed it might have actually happened, and larger than life.

Stop it, she mentally shrieked. Stop it right now.

Like it had happened yesterday, she could feel his hands on her, the way he’d covered her mouth as she came, muffling her cries, the way he’d twisted his fingers inside her, playing her body like he’d been born to do just that. His mouth on hers.

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Razed… couple of days…

Razed

“So, this place. You want me to meet you there. For coffee.”

“Yeah.” She angled her chin up.

It made him want to bite her, kiss her, hug her, cuddle her. That cocky, almost brash exterior . . . what did it hide, he wondered? Sweeping his thumb across her mouth, he murmured, “And just why are we meeting for coffee? You just like caffeine?”

“If you’re going to be an asshole,” she started.

He cut the rest of her words off with his mouth.

She’d answered his question. He’d just wanted a chance. Now, taking advantage of her already parted lips, he slanted his head and licked the inside of her mouth, sliding one hand up to cup her cheek, angling her head back.

With his other hand, he cupped her hip. Only her hip, because it would be so very easy to try for more.

Everything inside him pushed for that.

But he wasn’t going to rush this.

Not this, of all things.

He slid his tongue along hers, growled when she caught him and sucked him just a little. Dark, dirty little thoughts raced through him as he imagined her doing that to his cock. His fingers tightened on her hip and she swayed, leaning closer.

The sound of her moan pierced the fog and he forced himself to end the kiss, bit by bit. His heart was racing when it was done and his muscles were tight with the urge to grab, take . . . keep.

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I want this…

this

The simplicity of the gesture stunned her into passivity.

She held still as he lifted his head and stared down at her.

She blinked, not moving, as he continued to stand there, his hand on her chest. “I want five minutes of your time . . . over a cup of coffee. An hour for lunch. I want you to pick up the phone when I call, talk with me for a while,” he said, staring into her eyes while the blue green of his gaze cut into her.

Then he leaned in and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to her chest, just above the neckline of her sweater. “I want to peel your clothes away, learn each and every one of these insanely sexy tattoos . . .and the reason behind them. I want to know what makes you laugh, and I want to know what makes you mad. I want to know what sort of book you’re reading whenever I’m in the office—I’ve asked, but you always toss it down when I walk by and you never answer me.”

His breath was a caress on her flesh and she broke out into goose bumps.

Her heart raced and she couldn’t even begin to understand why there was a knot in her chest.

Then he lifted his head and caught her skull between his hands, leaning in to lightly brush his lips over hers. “You see, Keelie . . . I want a lot more than a quick fuck from you. But every time I try to get even five minutes of your time,” he murmured, each word low and raw. “You pull away. The one time you actually did talk to me? That was three months ago. At the wedding. You gave me five minutes and then I put my hands on you and since then, you’ve run even harder, even faster. So maybe you can understand why I’m a little leery about just what is going on here.”

Quick as a wish, he was gone, standing five feet away, and she slumped against the wall, her knees weak as she stared at him.

Her heart lurched, lunged inside her chest, and the voice of common sense told her one very simple message.

Time to go.

Except everything else compelled her to stay.

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Razed…another snippet

Razed

He pressed his thumb to the wide, soft curve of her lower lip.

Eyes on that curve, he said, “So . . . what? You here looking for a quick fuck, Keelie?”

She jerked, tried to pull away.

He didn’t let her, leaning his weight more heavily against her although he knew full well he might be tasting his balls, bloody and broken, in his throat in a moment.

“Back off,” she bit off.

“No.” He dipped his head, rubbed his lips against hers, and when she averted her head, he  skimmed them along her neck. “I’m just trying to see the picture that’s so obvious for you. I mean, I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for . . . hell, three years now, if I remember right.”

Three years. Eight month. Two weeks? Not that he was counting, really.

When she did nothing, said nothing, just watched him with those inscrutable eyes of blue and brown, he leaned in and buried his face against her hair. Black and white again, the chunks of black framing her face.

“What’s this obvious thing I’m missing, Keelie?” he asked.

Then his eyes just about crossed, because instead of outright answering, she twined long, long legs around him and arched, pressing the heat of her sex against him and rocked. “This . . .” That pink flush rode her cheeks, hotter now, brighter, while her eyes practically glittered at him. “This. Isn’t it obvious what’s going on?”

Zane couldn’t help it. He caught her hips in his hands, his fingers digging into the curve of her ass as he leaned into her and rocked against her, hard, fast. Once, twice.

She shuddered and met him. And when he stopped, she whimpered.

He slid a hand up, closed it over her throat. The mad beat of her pulse against his palm drove him insane. He wanted to cover that fragile bit of skin with his mouth and bite down, suck on her skin until she shivered and whispered his name.

Instead, he said, “There are a lot of names for what this is. A quick fuck, like I mentioned. Keelie, that’s easy, and either one of us can get it any way. I’ll be honest . . . that’s not what I want from you.”

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Razed…almost ready

Razed

He pressed his thumb to the wide, soft curve of her lower lip.

Eyes on that curve, he said, “So . . . what? You here looking for a quick fuck, Keelie?”

She jerked, tried to pull away.

He didn’t let her, leaning his weight more heavily against her although he knew full well he might be tasting his balls, bloody and broken, in his throat in a moment.

“Back off,” she bit off.

“No.” He dipped his head, rubbed his lips against hers, and when she averted her head, he  skimmed them along her neck. “I’m just trying to see the picture that’s so obvious for you. I mean, I’ve been trying to get you to go out with me for . . . hell, three years now, if I remember right.”

Three years. Eight month. Two weeks? Not that he was counting, really.

When she did nothing, said nothing, just watched him with those inscrutable eyes of blue and brown, he leaned in and buried his face against her hair. Black and white again, the chunks of black framing her face.

“What’s this obvious thing I’m missing, Keelie?” he asked.

Then his eyes just about crossed, because instead of outright answering, she twined long, long legs around him and arched, pressing the heat of her sex against him and rocked. “This . . .” That pink flush rode her cheeks, hotter now, brighter, while her eyes practically glittered at him. “This. Isn’t it obvious what’s going on?”

Zane couldn’t help it. He caught her hips in his hands, his fingers digging into the curve of her ass as he leaned into her and rocked against her, hard, fast. Once, twice.

She shuddered and met him. And when he stopped, she whimpered.

He slid a hand up, closed it over her throat. The mad beat of her pulse against his palm drove him insane. He wanted to cover that fragile bit of skin with his mouth and bite down, suck on her skin until she shivered and whispered his name.

Instead, he said, “There are a lot of names for what this is. A quick fuck, like I mentioned. Keelie, that’s easy, and either one of us can get it any way. I’ll be honest . . . that’s not what I want from you.”

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BUSTED… and oh wow, is this cover awesome…

busted

 

Man, oh, man…is this cover amazing or what?

Here.  A snippet.  FYI, this is unedited and may change during edits.

The first time Trey Barnes saw her it caught him by surprise.

Not because he knew her.

Not because of anything she did.

But because it had been six years since a woman had caused this kind of reaction in him.

Six years.

So it was a punch in the gut when he walked into the Norfolk library for the kid’s reading program and saw her.  His tongue all but glued itself to his mouth and his brain threatened to do a slow meltdown.

The woman was kneeling down in the middle of a circle of kids, a smile on her mouth.  A mouth slicked wine red and he suddenly found himself dying of thirst.

It had also been six years since he’d touched a drop of alcohol, but in that moment, he found himself imagining a glass of wine.  Wine…wine-red lips, wine-red sheets and the two of them stretched out on a bed as he ran his hands over that warm, lovely brown skin.

“Come on, Daddy!” Clayton jerked on his hand.  “Let’s go!  I want to go play.”

His son’s voice dragged him out of the fantasy, rich and lush as it was, and he shook his head a little to clear it.  A heavy fullness lingered in his loins and he was glad he’d gotten used to look like a bum.  The untucked shirt had fit him well enough when he bought it years ago, but the weight he’d lost after Aliesha’s death had stayed off so the shirt hung loose on his rangy frame.  Loose enough that he figured it would hide the hard-on that yet to subside.

A few minutes surrounded by chattering preschoolers ought to do it, he thought.

Clayton let go of his hand as he got closer and he reached up, nudged his sunglasses down.  As he’d retreated farther and farther into hermit mode, fewer people recognized him, but he rarely went anywhere without something hide his face.  Between the hair he rarely remembered to cut and the sunglasses, people didn’t often recognize him these days.

A shrill shriek split the air as two kids started to fight over a book.

That’s going to do it, he mused.  Blood that had burned so hot a minute before dropped back in the normal zone.

Only to jump right back up into the danger zone.

Miz Sexy Librarian was standing in front of the two kids.

And fuck… her voice was a wet dream.

“Now I know you two weren’t raised to treat books that way.  Do you do that at home?”

Two pint-sized little blond heads tipped back to stare up at her.  Trey barely noticed them, because his gaze was riveted on the plump, round curve of her ass.  How could he not notice that ass?  She wore a long, skinny skirt that went down a few inches below her knees and her stockings were the kind with a seam that ran up the back of her legs.

He passed a hand over his mouth.

Hell of a way to realize he could still get aroused—in the middle of the children’s section of the very public, very busy Norfolk library.  Gritting his teeth, he focused on the ceiling.  Would counting sheep help?

“Hello.”

That whiskey-smooth drawl was like a silken hand stroking down his back…or other things. He cleared his throat. Speak, dumb-ass.

“Hi!”

Saved by the Clayton-meister.

Mentally blowing out a breath, he watched as his son rocked back and forth on his heels, smiling up at the woman.

“Are you here for the program?” she asked.

“I am!”  Clayton stuck out his hand.  “I’m Clay.  I love books.  My dad tells me stories.  All the time.  Sometimes he even makes them up.  He gets paid to do that, too.”

Due out in May 2015.  Read WRECKED and RAZED.

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