Wicked Wednesday with Wicked Allure

 

WICKED ALLURE by Leslie C. Ferdinand

ISBN:  9781475010800

Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mBqIYE7JjSo

Amazon Buy Link:   http://www.amazon.com/Leslie-C-Ferdinand/

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/WickedAllureByLeslieCFerdinand

Twitter: #WickedAllure1

 

Madigan DeLeon is thrust back into Zachary Steele’s life, lured home, under false pretenses by her mother.  Soon, Madi’s heart and body is fully reengaged with Zach, but her head is urging caution.  Zach is determined to have a second chance with Madi and he’s not going to allow anyone to stand in his way.  Not even Madigan herself.

Teaser Excerpt: 

Once more.  She could indulge her deepest desire and allow herself to be with him, just once more.  She’d sort through everything else later.

His tongue touched the rim of her ear, always a sensitive spot for her and her heart began an even more frantic rhythm, the nerves beneath her skin prickling in rising pleasure. When he drew his hands away to undress her, her eyes fluttered shut.

Once she was completely naked, he grabbed her waist and dragged her body up until her wet heat settled against his mouth.  Exquisite sensation stimulated her entire body at the contact and she braced herself on her knees, moving rhythmically against his swiping tongue.  Like a dancer, she lost herself to the internal beat of her body.  He sucked her little bud and a scream caught in her throat, her body jerking, her nipples hard and hurting.  Her breath coming in short pants, Madigan wiggled faster against Zach’s mouth, enthralled and inflamed by the sight of his mouth devouring her wet flesh.

Noticing that she watched him, he pushed her slightly up and extended his tongue, flattening it against her clit and moving it in short, fluttering strokes.  Madigan’s senses reeled at the erotic image.  Her womb tightened and she shivered.  He continued to lap at her with the flat of his tongue, bringing her to the brink of madness before easing up and refusing her the satisfaction of release.  He was using his tongue to inflict the sweetest torture upon her.  Licking.  Lapping.  Stroking.

Madigan squeezed her breasts together, caressing her aching nipples with her fingertips.  “Please, Zach,” she moaned, her voice high and desperate.  “Please let me come.”

At her cry, he reached behind her and slid a finger into her, his tongue still flicking mercilessly against her folds, her own fingers pulling at her nipples.  Heat spread from her breasts and into her belly, centering between her legs.  Shivers seized her and she convulsed against his mouth, frantic and intense.

Barely giving her a chance to catch her breath, Zach was freeing his hard length and flipping her over.  Gently cradling her head in his hands, he surged into her in one, smooth motion.  Madigan wrapped her arms and legs around his body, allowing him to penetrate her deeper.  He was thick and heavy inside of her, the tip of his penis caressing her sensitive inner walls as he drew out and touching her womb as he heaved in.  “Zach,” she whispered, lifting her hips ever so slightly and matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

“So hot and small and wet,” he growled, pulling almost completely out of her only to push into her again.

“Zach!” she cried, kissing his temple, his jaw line, his mouth, her taste flavoring his lips and tongue.

His thrusts became hard and fast, and she knew he was almost ready to spend.  “Can’t come inside me,” she managed.

He closed his eyes, the tendons in his neck bulging, the muscles in his shoulders bunching with tension.  In a sudden rush and flurry of motion, he pulled out of her and got to his knees, urging his erection against her mouth.  She wrapped her lips around his slickened head, drawing on him hard and deep, tasting the musk of her own juices and the sweet saltiness of his pre-ejaculate.  He threw his head back and pumped once into her mouth, then stiffened as his seed burst from his body and down her throat.

 

Guest Author Day with Shira Anthony

The Blue Notes Series:  Classical Music Romance By Shira Anthony

First off, let me share a secret: the Blue Notes Series is a bit of a personal fantasy of mine.   A classical music universe (a bit of jazz and rock, too), beautiful men, romance, and happily-ever-afters.  Then again, I grew up with lots of romantic fantasies.  No surprise, then, that when I finally decided to try writing a novel, it was a romance.

I grew up with music.  My mother, sister and I all had careers as professional musicians.  I started out as a violinist and, in college, discovered opera.  I sang opera professionally for more than ten years.  So when I was trying to figure out what to write about for my second MM novel, I thought about what I knew and what I loved.  From there, it was an easy decision.

Writing the books, however, was more of a challenge, because each of them deals with issues I myself have had some experience with as a musician: stage fright, long-distance relationships, and letting go so that you can allow your musical soul to shine through, among other things.  Difficult issues for me to face, even more difficult to write about.  And while I’m not a gay man, most of the men I met while I was singing were gay men.  Wonderful men, some of whom I still count as my closest friends.

Each Blue Notes Series novel is a freestanding story and the books can be read in any order, although the main characters in one book may appear as secondary characters in another.  The first book in the series, “Blue Notes,” is the story of former pianist Jason Greene, who escapes the pain of a failed relationship by running to Paris.  There, he meets a jazz violinist, Jules Bardon, and learns about himself:  what makes him happy and how to let go of the pain he’s been harboring for decades.

The second Blue Notes novel, “The Melody Thief,” is the story of cellist Cary Redding, a former child prodigy, sought after by conductors the world over.  Underneath the veneer of success, however, Cary hides a world of pain.  He escapes his past by drinking too much and seeking out anonymous sexual encounters in seedy bars.  But Cary’s dual life comes crashing down around him when he’s rescued by lawyer Antonio Bianchi on a deserted Milan street.  With Antonio’s help, Cary is able to overcome his past and become the man he wants to be.

The third novel in the series, “Aria,” to be published in December of 2012, is the story of Sam Ryan, a lawyer, and opera singer Aiden Lind.  Sam and Aiden are instantly attracted to each other when they first meet in New York City.  But Sam is still grieving the sudden death of his partner of seven years, and Aiden gets an offer to sing in Europe.  They go their separate ways, only to meet again, five years later.  But managing a relationship in the face of a career where you are nearly always on the road is a challenge for both men.  And Sam hasn’t quite gotten over the pain of his loss, either.  Together, they must find a way to work with Aiden’s jet-setting lifestyle and for Sam to move on from his grief.

The one recurring theme of the Blue Notes Series novels, other than music, is the importance of relationships to character growth.  Although there certainly are more fanciful plot twists in the novels, at their heart, they are stories of real human relationships and feelings.  Real men.  Real relationships.  Real emotions.  Many of the books are traditional romances, with a happily ever after (HEA) at the end.  Others, however, have the HEA earlier on, and focus on the growth of love and overcoming obstacles to love after the HEA.

Each story in the series celebrates romance and love between men, and each story embraces the creative spirit in all of us. –Shira

************

In her last incarnation, Shira Anthony was a professional opera singer, performing roles in such operas as ToscaPagliacci, and La Traviata, among others. She’s given up TV for evenings spent with her laptop, and she never goes anywhere without a pile of unread M/M romance on her Kindle.

Shira is married with two children and two insane dogs, and when she’s not writing, she is usually in a courtroom trying to make the world safer for children.  When she’s not working, she can be found aboard a 30’ catamaran at the Carolina coast with her favorite sexy captain at the wheel.

Shira can be found on Facebook, Goodreads, or on her web site, http://www.shiraanthony.com. You can also contact her at shiraanthony@hotmail.com.

 

Excerpt:  The Melody Thief (Blue Notes, #2), now available on Dreamspinner Press, Amazon and AllRomanceEbooks

Chapter One

The Melody Thief

Tulsa, Oklahoma

HE SCREWED up his face, trying to ignore the bright lights at the edge of the stage, which burned his eyes and left multicolored imprints on his retinas. Cary Redding was barely fifteen years old, but he sat straight-backed, schooling his expression to reveal only calm resolve. Unlike some of the well-known performers he had watched on video, he did not move his body in time to the music, nor did he bend and sway. The cello became a physical extension of his body, and he had no need to move anything more than his fingers on the fingerboard and his bow over the strings.

When he played, he was transported to a place where it didn’t matter that his face had begun to break out or that he seemed to grow out of his shoes every other month. When he played, he forgot his fear that he was different—that he was far more interested in Jerry Gabriel than in Jerry’s sister Martha. When he played, he felt the kind of warmth he had horsing around with his brother in the backyard, chasing after a football.

For the past three years, he had studied the Elgar Cello Concerto, a soulful, intensely passionate composition, and one he adored. His cello teacher had explained that it had been composed at the end of World War I, and the music reflected the composer’s grief and disillusionment. At the time, Cary hadn’t been really sure what that meant, but he felt the music deep within his soul, in a place he hid from everyone. In that music, he could express what he could not express any other way, and somehow nobody ever seemed to understand that although the music was Elgar’s, the sadness and the melancholy were his own.

At times he was terrified the audience would discover his secret: that he was unworthy of the music. But then his fingers would follow their well-worn path across the fingerboard, and his bow would move of its own accord. The music would rise and fall and engulf him entirely, and the audience would be on their feet to acknowledge the gangly, awkward teenager who had just moved them to tears.

Tonight was no exception. The Tulsa Performing Arts Center was packed with pillars of the community come to hear the young soloist the Chicago Sun-Times had proclaimed “one of the brightest new talents in classical music.” Cries of “bravo” punctuated the applause, and a shy little girl in a white dress with white tights and white shoes climbed the steps to the stage with her mother’s encouragement and handed him a single red rose.

He stood with his cello at his side and bowed as he had been taught not long after he learned to walk. The accompanist bowed as well, smiling at him with the same awed expression he had seen from pianists and conductors alike.

In that moment, he felt like a thief. A liar. The worst kind of cheat.

“Young man,” the woman in the red cocktail dress with the double strand of pearls said as she laid her hand on his shoulder, “you are truly a wonder. You must come back soon and play for us again.”

He knew how to respond; he’d been taught this, as well. “Thank you, ma’am.” His voice cracked, as it had on and off for the past six months. His face burned. He was embarrassed he could not control this as well as he could his performance.

“He’s booked through the next year,” his mother told the woman, “but if there’s an opening, we’ll be sure to let you know.” She would find an opening, no doubt, even if it meant sacrificing his one free weekend at home. His mother never passed up a chance to promote his career.

Back in the green room, his mother looked on as he wiped down the fingerboard of his instrument and gently replaced it in its fiberglass case, then carefully secured his bow in the lid. He’d barely looked at his mother since they’d left the small crowd of well-wishers who had gathered in the wings. He didn’t need to see her face to know she was displeased. He didn’t really want to know what he’d done wrong this time, so he started to hum a melody from a Mozart sonata he’d been studying. Humming helped take his mind off his guilt at letting her down again.

“You rushed through the pizzicato in the last movement,” she said. “We’ve been over that section so many times, Cary Taylor Redding. You let your mind wander again.”

He tried not to cringe; she only used his full name when she was very disappointed in him. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked again, and he inwardly winced. He didn’t have to fight back the tears anymore. He’d stopped crying years ago.

“We’ll just have to practice it some more.”

He’d also long since stopped asking her why she always said “we” would practice something when he was the one doing the practicing. The one and only time he had pressed the issue, she had responded with a look of long-suffering patience. For days after, the guilt had pierced his gut and roiled around inside until he had apologized for several days running.

“Hurry up now,” she told him. “We have a long drive back home.”

“Did Justin call?” he asked with a hopeful expression.

“Why would your brother call?”

“He said he’d let me know if his team won tonight.” He pulled on his thick winter jacket, grabbed the handle of the cello case, and dragged it across the floor on its roller-skate wheels.

“He can tell you all about it tomorrow.”

He fell asleep in the front seat of the minivan as they headed back to Missouri. He did not dream, or at least, he didn’t remember what he had dreamed about. He never did.

 

 

 

 

Update on the Devon Falls Series

Coming in late 2012/early 2013-Book 6 in the Devon Falls series, Yuletide Magic. 
 
Grady O’Neil loves living and working in Devon Falls but now that he sees his favorite cousin settling down, friends finding love and happiness and he longs for the same thing though looking at him you would think he was foot loose and fancy free. But for Grady trying to figure out what place he has in the world leaves him confused and a little lonely. For Grady is not only human but also half fae. Is he for the human world? Is he part of the fae world? Feeling like he doesn’t belong anywhere, Grady is shocked when Lord Kalen walks up to him and informs him he has been searching for Grady forever. Grady finds himself drawn to Kalen even as he tries to stay away from the one person who just may complete Grady in every way.
 
*please note this story is Gay (M/M)*
______________________________________________________________________________
 
Then in 2013…..a new Devon Falls story readers have been waiting for….one couple will be married, a new couple will shock the town and more.
 
Get ready for all the chaos and romance that  is in A Devon Falls Wedding (Book 7)
 
A special event is coming to Devon Falls on a warm June afternoon…can Jenna and Marc find a way to calm their respective families and friends before their big day goes bust?
 
Plus the final four books in the series will be coming after that. Get ready for the Craven Siblings, Elemental mages with the power of the elements at their fingertips.
 
 #8 Heaven’s Fires-featuring Maxwell who is a Fire Elemental (Oldest)
#9 The Air We Breathe- featuring Selena who is a Air elemental (Middle child)
#10 Rock Steady- featuring Jorge (Earth elemental) (Twin to Lynx)
# 11 Waves of my Desire- featuring Lynx (Water Elemental) (Twin to Jorge)
 
Also coming soon-The first five books in the Devon Falls series will be in one print compilation. Keep and eye out on my website and blog for the latest news on that front.

Cover Reveal~Naturals by Tiffany Truitt

 

About NATURALS: Tess is finally safe from the reach of the Council, now that she is living in the Middlelands with the rebel Isolationists. With James having returned to Templeton, she easily falls back into her friendship with Henry, though her newfound knowledge of Robert’s chosen one status still stings. Even surrounded by people, Tess has never felt more alone. So she’s thrilled when James returns to the settlement, demanding to see Tess — until she finds out that it’s because her sister, Louisa, has been recruited into Tess’s old position at Templeton, and that the dangerously sadistic chosen one George has taken an interest in her.

NATURALS is the second book in The Lost Souls trilogy, and follows the dystopian hit CHOSEN ONES.
NATURALS on Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15811135-naturals

Tiffany’s website:  http://tiffanytruitt.wordpress.com/
About Tiffany:  Tiffany Truitt was born in Peoria, Illinois. A self-proclaimed Navy brat, Tiffany spent most of her childhood living in Virginia, but don’t call her a Southerner. She also spent a few years living in Cuba. Since her time on the island of  one McDonald’s and Banana Rats (don’t ask) she has been obsessed with traveling. Tiffany recently added China to her list of travels (hello inspiration for a new book).

Besides traveling, Tiffany has always been an avid reader. The earliest books she remembers reading belong to The Little House on the Prairie Series. First book she read in one day? Little Woman(5th grade). First author she fell in love with? Jane Austen in middle school. Tiffany spent most of her high school and college career as a literary snob. She refused to read anything considered “low brow” or outside the “classics.”

Tiffany began teaching middle school in 2006. Her students introduced her to the wide, wonderful world of Young Adult literature. Today, Tiffany embraces popular Young Adult literature and uses it in her classroom. She currently teaches the following novels: The OutsidersSpeakNight, Dystopian Literature Circles: The Hunger GamesThe GiverThe Uglies, and Matched.

Welcome Angel Martinez Today

 

Sub Zero

An ESTO/ Altairian Universe Novel

Amber Allure

M/M Science Fiction Mystery

http://www.amberquill.com/AmberAllure/SubZero.html 

Blurb:

Major Aren Dalsgaard’s newest assignment is to investigate a series of murders on the frigid planet, Drass, where relations between the Treaty settlers and the natives have taken a nasty turn. A linguist and trained xenologist, Aren should be the ideal Special Investigations officer for the assignment. So what’s the problem? Drass is where he died, more than a hundred and twenty years ago.

Sent by his family to the chigyel city, Nyachung finds himself confronted with a murder charge, racial prejudice, and a cryo-revived investigator who claims to be a hero from his grandmother’s generation. Major Dalsgaard could be crazy or he could be lying, but the sincerity in his spring-green eyes disturbs Nyachung more than anything else he encounters in the foreigners’ city.

Confronted with mysterious black boxes and a beautiful yet evasive young man as a prime suspect, Aren hopes he can solve the murders before his fierce sexual attraction to Nyachung gets the better of him…

Excerpt:

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Aren bellowed.

The tech stared at him, nonplussed. “Getting your venom sample, sir.”

“By torturing him?”

“It’s standard operating procedure, sir.”

“Since when is physical abuse standard procedure in any branch of the service?”

Sergeant Wickstrom gave him a little nudge. “Sir, use of force in the obtaining of information or cooperation is up to the discretion of the facility commander. It’s in the manuals.”

“In the—you must be joking.”

“Afraid not, sir.”

Aren rubbed both hands over his face. “God. Barbaric century.” Then he stalked over to the tech. “Unhook him, please. Not only is this inefficient, it’s inhumane. Do you have any idea, Corporal, how sensitive those venom sacs are?”

The hapless corporal gulped a breath. “I…don’t know, sir.”

“Imagine hooking one of those damn things up to your testicles and then shoving another up your urethra. That should give you some idea.”

“Yes, sir.”

The poor tech had turned green. Aren patted his shoulder, not wanting the boy to pass out. “Just turn it off. Unhook him. There’s a better way to do this. Several, actually. You could have just asked him for a sample, but now that he’s a shuddering mess, he’ll need some help.”

While the tech unhooked the leads, Aren went around the gurney undoing straps.

“Sir, you know he’s a murder suspect, right?”

“Oh, yes. Terribly dangerous, I’m sure. Maybe you should stand back. Safety first.” Aren perched hipshot on the edge of the gurney and gathered Nyachung into his arms as he switched to dangpo. “Are you with me, little one?”

“Why are they doing this?” Nyachung tangled both fists in the front of Aren’s jacket, shaking uncontrollably.

“Sh, sh, they want some of your venom. To compare it to the venom in the woman you found. If it’s not your venom, then you didn’t kill her.”

A hoarse sound, more sob than laugh came from the little tale-singer. “They could have said so.”

“Yes, they should have.” Aren held up a collection tube. “Can you do it on your own?”

Nyachung held out one shaking arm, well away from Aren. He curled his fingers, forearm muscles contracting. “I can’t,” he gasped out.

Gently, Aren placed his hand under Nyachung’s elbow. “Will you let me help you? I know we’re strangers and this is in front of others, but it would be better than their way.”

Black eyes gazed up at him, wet with unshed tears of pain. “All right. Do you… Have you done this?”

“I have.” Aren massaged his thumb over the tense forearm muscles a moment. Then he reached around, encircling Nyachung with his arms, partially hiding him from prying eyes. He pressed gently on the pad with his thumb, pushing the arm spur out as one would a cat’s claw. Keeping the pressure constant and the collection tube held over the spur in two fingers, he turned his attention to the venom sac. Besides the obvious places, this was the most sensitive spot on a dangpo male’s body.

He caressed the tender, abused skin, barely holding back the urge to curl forward and kiss the spot where the electro-pulse had been. Nyachung made a sweet, whimpering sound that shot straight to his balls and Aren hoped he was holding the stone-faced expression he was trying for. He began to massage the sac, his thumb describing slow, gentle circles. Nyachung twitched in his arms.

“Easy, little one, easy. As soon as you’re able.”

 

 

Goddess Fish VBT with Donna Galanti

Contest Information: Author is giving away a $50 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn commenter during the tour. Follow the tour and comment; the more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here: http://goddessfishpromotions.blogspot.com/2012/06/virtual-exerpt-tour-human-element-by.html

The Human Element by Donna Galanti

One by one, Laura Armstrong’s friends and adoptive family members are being murdered, and despite her unique healing powers, she can do nothing to stop it. The savage killer haunts her dreams, tormenting her with the promise that she is next. Determined to find the killer, she follows her visions to the site of a crashed meteorite–her hometown. There, she meets Ben Fieldstone, who seeks answers about his parents’ death the night the meteorite struck. In a race to stop a mad man, they unravel a frightening secret that binds them together. But the killer’s desire to destroy Laura face-to-face leads to a showdown that puts Laura and Ben’s emotional relationship and Laura’s pure spirit to the test. With the killer closing in, Laura discovers her destiny is linked to his and she has two choices–redeem him or kill him.

Reviewers are saying…

“A HUMAN ELEMENT is an elegant and haunting first novel. Unrelenting, devious but full of heart. Highly recommended.” –Jonathan Maberry, New York Times best-selling author of DEAD OF NIGHT

“A thrilling ride full of believable characters, a terrifying villain, an epic battle for survival, and a love worth killing for. A page-turner filled with fascinating twists and turns!” Marie Lamba, author of WHAT I MEANT

Teaser Excerpt: 

The night before came flooding back in a hot, delicious memory as Laura watched Ben sleep on his side facing her. The room cast dark shadows about from the kitchen light that glowed up into the loft. The clock blinked 5:30 a.m. The sun still waited to appear.

She took in every part of Ben’s face. It was the most handsome face she had known. His gray streaked hair fell over his lined forehead. He looked so peaceful. His lean angles carved themselves into her bed as he had carved himself into her the night before.

She knew he hadn’t had much peace in his life. She wondered when he would open up to her about it. She shivered thinking about the things they had done to each other. She knew, no matter what happened, she would never forget this man.

Ben opened his eyes and they stared at each other for a long moment, both in a state of drowsiness. Then he was holding her and the magic began all over again. Neither spoke as he took her on the edge of the bed. He stood over her as she spread out before him in submission and passion.

In a slow dance they moved to their own music, bending and stretching toward each other. Laura felt like she was floating in the air as Ben consumed her body. She could only see his outline as he pulled her to him over and over and caressed her belly and breasts, stoking her fire to an almost painful intensity. She pushed herself up on her elbows to lick and suck his nipples this time, and he cried out with pleasure returning the favor as they rocked together. They strained slow toward release and when it came it was with a murmur and a gasp.

“Laura, my Laura,” Ben whispered into her hair. “I’ve never made love before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I never made love, only hate. Hate for myself mostly.”

 

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links: 

Donna Galanti Bio:
Donna Galanti is the author of the paranormal suspense novel A HUMAN ELEMENT (Echelon Press). Donna has a B.A. in English and a background in marketing. She is a member of International Thriller Writers, Horror Writers Association, The Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group, and Pennwriters. She lives with her family in an old farmhouse in PA with lots of nooks, fireplaces, and stinkbugs but sadly, no ghosts. Visit her at: http://blog.donnagalanti.com/wp/
Connect with Donna here:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/DonnaGalanti
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/DonnaGalantiAuthor
Blog: http://blog.donnagalanti.com/wp/

 

Purchase A HUMAN ELEMENT here:

Amazon: http://tinyurl.com/dg-the-Kindle

Barnes & Noble: http://tinyurl.com/dg-he-Nook

Welcome Author Kelly Whitley

Into the Red from Muse It Up Publishing

Genre: Paranormal romantic suspense

Buy links: Amazon   Muse It Up Publishing

Blurb:

Human blood is an illicit and highly addictive drug–if you’re a vampire. Known as Red, its side effects are insanity, and eventual death. A group of Red-addicted vampires known as Poisoners are killing women as part of an extortion plot involving a lost ancient vampiric tome, and they’re leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. The discovery of each new victim risks exposure of the entire vampire race to humans. Then one victim survives…

Dr. Evan Nichols, oncologist and vampire, lives a monk-like existence, by his own choice, focusing on patient care and research to benefit his vampire brethren. It’s been twenty-five years since his world turned upside down—the night he lost his fiancee and discovered his hidden vampire heritage. Now his government has ordered him to take a mate—or they’ll choose one for him. It’s a horrible prospect, and one that might push him over the edge—until Fate throws him together with a human female.

Wary of relationships, Tara West has poured her energies into work and inventing cutting edge climbing equipment. She doesn’t like the gorgeous Dr. Nichols, yet finds herself unaccountably drawn to him.

When a crazed vampire attacks and poisons Tara, Evan rescues her. With time running out, he has to create an antidote to the poison before he loses his chance at love.

In order to make the vaccine which might cure her, he has to find the bastards who poisoned her and take their venom—before they die of their addiction. If he doesn’t reach them in time, saving her will be impossible.

Thus the journey begins—into the Red!

 

Excerpt:

Her eyes closed half way, the dilated pupils darkening the hazel. The bedroom expression from his drawing. She shifted toward him. “Win?”

He moved close enough to whisper in her ear. “Win.”

He bent his head to the hollow of her neck and inhaled, pulling her scent inside him. God, she smelled good. Clean, floral, and female. He had to know what her lips felt like. One kiss. Just one, and he’d go.

The atmosphere charged—equal parts anticipation and need.

Not a good idea, no matter how much he wanted it.

He should leave now.

Evan drew back and caught a glimpse of her tongue moistening her lips. Control slipped away, and he buried his hand in her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

The first brush of his lips on hers, an electrifying sweep, shrank his world down to the two of them.

Her mouth had the perfect balance of heat and tenderness, fitting perfectly with his. Jesus, he hadn’t experienced this for so long, and it felt so good. He pressed his lips more firmly against hers. Slender fingers wove into his hair, and pleasure cascaded down his back and set off pressure in his groin. God, he should stop.

He pulled her into his embrace.

Damn good to hold a woman, warm and vital, after all these years of a cold and solitary existence. Tara had awakened a hunger, and he hadn’t realized the degree of his starvation until now. He had to get a taste of her.

He teased her lips with his tongue, and groaned in delight when she sighed and allowed him access. A flavor explosion—orange juice and chocolate chip cookies and steamy human woman, hot and vital. He stroked her tongue, penetrating, probing, shifting his mouth over hers to deepen the dance.

Tara gripped his shoulders, each one of her fingernails triggering tiny sparks of pleasure that flashed down to the small of his back.

Her enthusiasm was unmistakable. She wanted him too.

What would she feel like under him, his body buried in hers? Blood pulsed through him headed for destinations south, and his erection throbbed in readiness, shoving against his zipper.

Too fast, needed to slow down before his libido went off the rails.

As if sensing his thoughts, Tara broke the kiss but didn’t pull back. The heat of her breath warmed his jaw. At least one of them had sense.

Nope. He hadn’t gotten enough.

He captured her lips and mated his tongue with hers, and electric anticipation spread out across his skin. The fragrance of arousal poured off him, smelling of smoky bergamot, the unique signature of claiming and possession.

A mating scent. A whiff of answering desire hit his nostrils.

Had to get her closer, get his essence on her skin. He wrapped an arm around her waist. Soft breasts pressed against his chest, moving in concert with his breathing, and pushed desire to need.

So. Damn. Good.

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