Three Novellas of Erotic Capture
Allow yourself to imagine the man behind the dark sunglasses. Hear the purr of his zipper as he lowers it, then reaches for the shiny metal hanging from his black leather belt. It’s futile to resist arrest. Give yourself up to the fantasy. Besides, he thinks you’re so hot in handcuffs…
Arresting Desire by Shayla Black
FBI Agent Jon Bocelli never stopped wanting beautiful professor Lucia DiStefano. She’s interested in taking her first lover, and he intends to be that man. When her past puts her life in danger, Jon risks everything to save her and prove this fling is forever.
On Fire by Sylvia Day
When Deputy Marshal Jared Cameron investigates a series of arson attacks in a seaside town, the biggest blast of heat comes from sexy fire inspector Darcy Michaels—until their scorching after-hours affair is compromised by a secret from Darcy’s past.
The Unwilling by Shiloh Walker
Mica Greer and her former lover, ex-FBI agent Colby Mathis once shared an intimate past and a powerful psychic gift. Now, they’ve been reunited by a bizarre series of murders—and an electrifying passion that could put them both in jeopardy.
Mica would find him at the beach.
Even though she wanted to pretend she’d find anybody else at the beach, Colby Mathis was the one she’d find at the beach. She knew it in her gut. In her bones. In her heart. As she climbed out of her car, she wished she’d remembered to get that haircut she’d been putting off. Wished she’d thought to put on makeup. Wished she’d put on something other than the serviceable jacket and trousers she wore. Wished she’d look halfway…well, nice when she saw him again.
And even as she wished all of those things, she wanted to kick herself. She was here about murder. How she looked shouldn’t matter at all.
“Okay,” she muttered to herself as she studied the beach. “Where to now?”
The beach was a pretty damn vague destination. He could be anywhere. Yet she found herself heading up the coast—not aimlessly, either. Almost like she was being pulled that way. The longer she walked, the more excited she got, too. The faster her heart raced, the hotter she felt. And it had nothing to do with the June sunshine beating down overhead.
Her breath hitched in her throat as she neared a bend and she knew.
He was there.
And then she rounded it and she saw a figure standing on the edge of the beach.
The dread he’d been feeling all day had finally eased up a little.
Colby wanted to think he’d managed to avoid whatever in the hell was out there trying to call him. But while the dread was gone…other things weren’t. His heart continued to race, like he was out running in a fucking marathon. His mind was crowded with whispers. You can’t outrun it, you can’t outrun it, you can’t, you can’t you can’t—
He would have done damn near anything to stifle those damned voices. Anything.
And then, abruptly, everything went silent.
Like the calm before the storm.
Even before he turned his head and saw her, he knew. Some part of him did, at least. He didn’t even know if he could claim it was any sort of psychic knowledge. Certain things, people didn’t need true psychic skill to know—just instinct—and this was probably every bit as much as instinct as anything else. The instinct that trouble was coming his way.
Trouble…five feet, nine inches of trouble and most of it was leg. Black hair was pulled back in a braid so tight, he wouldn’t have known it was curly. Except he had spent many, many hours with his hands fisted in those curls. She hated them…he’d always loved them. Her eyes, a deep, strange shade of blue-violet, so much darker than his own eyes, were hidden by sunglasses and he could only imagine the derision he’d see there. And it would be there.
He knew it just by the sight of the slight sneer on her pretty face.
Mica Greer never had much cared for psychics. Strange, considering she was one. Or maybe not so strange, he supposed. Denial wasn’t just a river in Egypt and all that.
Mica’s gift, like his own, had been unstable. Unlike him, she hadn’t learned to stabilize it through practice alone. She’d needed a partner, and she’d turned out to make a damn good anchor. For a while, the two of them had worked together in training. Her gift had grown, bloomed…as had some crazy thing between them.
Then she’d decided she didn’t want all the ‘crazy shit’ in her life.
She pulled out. Not just out of the unit, but out of the FBI, altogether.
And from him—
Don’t go there, he thought. Blowing out a breath, he shifted his attention back to the ocean, trying to reach for some inner peace. It wasn’t going to come, though, and he knew it. If she was here, on top of the insane coming at him, then it was for a reason.
I can always pretend she’s here because after all this time, she realizes she’s still in love with me.
click on the covers to read more…