 We're excited to spotlight Asking for It by Lilah Pace, an erotic romance that releases very soon on June 2nd. I devoured it other night & can't stop thinking about it. To me, that's a sign of a brilliant book. It dares to push your limits and take a difficult topic to new boundaries from a psychology and emotional perspective. The writing is flawless, the characters intriguing, vulnerable, & complex, and the sex, WOW, is raw, chilling, and stripped bare. For those who like to be provoked & challenged, pre-order ASAP. BRAVO Lillah on this stellar debut. This book does need a disclaimer. "Asking for It deals explicitly with fantasies of non-consensual sex. Readers sensitive to portrayals of non-consensual sex should be advised." If you're concerned or nervous about the content, we encourage you to take a chance and read the exclusive excerpt. It's a good preview of how explicit and graphic the scenes are between Jonah and Vivienne. But their story is more than the hot sexual encounters. What starts out is a relationship solely focused on fulfilling a discrete sexual need unexpectedly evolves into real feelings and expectations and lines are quickly blurred. When their past is finally revealed, it's shocking and brutal. The excerpt is one of our fave scenes and we welcome you to enter the provocative & lustful world of Jonah and Vivienne's love story. Make sure to have a fan and ice cold drink nearby because you're going to need it. ;) Plus! Enter to win a $10 gift card and paperback copy of Asking for It! Happy reading and good luck!
"Jonah Marks has screwed me hotter and dirtier than any other man ever has-- and yet my heart flutters like a girl's as he holds my hand for the first time."
- Asking for it by Lilah Pace Scorching Hot Exclusive Excerpt: Asking for It The warm breeze tugs at the hem of my red sundress as I watch Jonah. He says, "Looks like you need some help."
"Sure could use a hand." My Southern accent normally isn't that strong, but it's come out to play.
Jonah likes my drawl. I can tell by the way his eyes darken as he studies me. "We ought to talk."
"Talk?"
"About how we're going to handle this." He nods toward the car. "You need a lot of work done, if you want to get moving again anytime soon. Work doesn't come cheap."
As long as I don't say the word silver, this is real. I'm stranded out here, alone, with this man who tall and strong he could overpower me in an instant. And he's my only chance of getting out of here – so I have do anything he wants.
Anything.
"I –" My voice shakes with both anticipation and fear. "I haven't got much on me."
"Sure haven't." Jonah's eyes drop to my breasts, only barely covered by the low-cut neckline of my red sundress.
I blush so hot he can probably see it even in shadow. "I meant, I didn't bring my purse."
"No license? No phone? No cash? Not a very good idea."
"I guess not."
"Don't worry," Jonah purrs, stepping closer. "I've got you."
If only we could be sure nobody would drive along this stretch of road anytime soon. Then he could throw me down on the hood, rip my dress away and take me as hard and mercilessly as he did the first time. My knees go weak, and I have to brace one hand against the car door. I bite my lower lip before I whisper, "I could give you my number. You could call me tomorrow, and I'd pay anything you wanted."
"I don't want your money." He nods toward his car. "Get in. Let's talk."
Slowly – as if reluctantly – I walk toward Jonah's dark sedan. My right hand trembles as I reach for the front passenger door, but Jonah steps past me to open the back door instead. I hesitate, breath catching, before I slip inside.
A lot of guys seem to care about their cars too much or not at all. Either they have sportscars or vintage numbers they fixed up, and they bore you with talk about horsepower and acceleration – or they have totally normal cars permanently littered with empty fast-food bags and junk mail, and they tell you to just kick that soda can on the floor out of your way. Neither scenario is attractive.
Jonah's sedan is long, sleek, and elegantly impersonal. Cream-colored leather covers the seats. It smells like he drove it off the lot this morning. The interior gives away nothing about what kind of person Jonah Marks might be. I scoot to the far end of the car, tucking the skirt of my sundress under me as Jonah slides in after.
He slams the door. The overhead light goes off. Now the only illumination comes from the soft blue glow of his satellite radio.
Jonah studies me for a moment. No doubt he's taking in the rise and fall of my chest, the way I'm already shaking. He makes me wait for several breaths before he says, "Kick off your shoes. Get comfortable."
I obey, letting the heels slip from my feet, even as I say, "I don't want to stay in your car."
"You want to get home, don't you?"
"I – I appreciate you helping me – "
"I'm going to help you, but you have to help me. See?"
This is – softer than our first time. Not an act of angry brutality. Instead Jonah's using coercion, putting me in a place where I say yes because I feel like there's no way out if I say no. Edging me closer and closer to a line that he'll then drag me over. It's an entirely different kind of force, but force all the same.
And it turns me on just as hard.
Jonah brushes one fingertip along my bare shoulder. I shiver as I pull back. He clucks his tongue and smiles. "So shy. That's no way to act with someone who's trying to be nice to you."
"I didn't mean – I'm sorry."
"That's okay. You're going to be nice to me too. Here. Give me your hand."
His fingers close around my wrist, his grip as hard as his tone is soft. He guides my hand down to his crotch, then presses my palm against his cock.
God, he's so big. I remembered that from last time – I couldn't forget it, ever – but still I marvel at the length of him. His cock jumps slightly at my touch, the pressure clear even through the thin fabric of Jonah's cargos. He starts moving my hand back and forth, the smallest, slowest strokes.
"See?" Jonah grins at me, open-mouthed, already proud of himself for getting me into this situation. "I knew you could be nice if you wanted to."
If this were for real, what would I say now? What would I do? I whisper, "I just want to get home."
"You'll get home. But there's no rush. I like you when you're being nice."
"Nothing but this?" By now I'm shaking. "Just my hand?"
"You could do more with your hands. Why don't you show me? Maybe your hands are all I need, if you give me enough."
Jonah lifts his hand from mine, no longer pressing my palm against his erection. He wants me to give him more – to bargain, in the hopes he'll demand nothing more than a hand job. So I have to give him the best hand job I can.
My fingers tremble as I clumsily unbutton his fly, then reach inside his boxers to draw out the length of his cock. It juts up, long and thick for me. Tentatively I close my hand around it. My reward is the first pre-come, slicking my fingers along with the head of his cock.
"Come on." Jonah doesn't sound so patronizingly reassuring any longer. Impatience grates in every word. "You can do more than that."
I begin jerking him off in earnest, tightening and loosening my fist as I move up the length of his cock. Now down again, and I begin using my wrist. He's hot against my palm, and so hard he must ache.
"I want it wetter," Jonah says. "Lick your palm."
So I do, quickly, before going back to my task. Guys have always told me I was good at this part – and I start giving Jonah what I'd give a regular lover. Twist and grip and stroke, teasing the ridge around the head of his cock.
He breathes out hard, and lets his head slump back. I whisper, "This is enough?"
"Wetter." But when I lift my palm to my face again, he shakes his head. "Use your mouth."
"—but – you said – "
"I said you were going to be nice to me if you wanted my help. You want my help, don't you? Or do you want to stay out here all night? Somebody else might stop, and he might not be good to you like I am."
I wonder if Jonah will act out both parts. Whether he'll drive off and leave me stranded – then return in a few minutes as the savage attacker he's now using to threaten me.
Instead he reaches out as if to caress the side of my face – then fists his hand in my hair. His self-satisfied smile has vanished. "Play nice," he says. It's a warning.
 “This is who I am. This is what I want. Now I need a man dangerous enough to give it to me.”
Graduate student Vivienne Charles is afraid of her own desires—ashamed to admit that she fantasizes about being taken by force, by a man who will claim her completely and without mercy. When the magnetic, mysterious Jonah Marks learns her secret, he makes an offer that stuns her: they will remain near-strangers to each other, and meet in secret so that he can fulfill her fantasy.
Their arrangement is twisted. The sex is incredible. And—despite their attempts to stay apart—soon their emotions are bound together as tightly as the rope around Vivienne’s wrists. But the secrets in their pasts threaten to turn their affair even darker...
Reader Advisory: Asking for It deals explicitly with fantasies of non-consensual sex. Readers sensitive to portrayals of non-consensual sex should be advised.
"I don't just fuck you, Jonah. I bare my soul to you."
- Asking for It by Lilah Pace Giveaway: Win a $10 Gift Card and
Paperback Copy of Asking for It
 We have a smoking hot treat for you today. Read an exclusive Prologue written from Carter's point of view from TAKING THE FALL Volume 1 by Alexa Riley! The Taking the Fall series, all four volumes for only $0.99 each, are now all released and the series is complete. Alexa Riley is celebrating with a Carter POV exclusive and a $100 gift card giveaway! Plus, check out some sexy series teasers that are so HOT they need to come with their own ice cold drink and fan! Yowsa don't say we didn't warned you! ;) Happy reading and good luck!
Taking the Fall Prologue: Carter's Point of View The guards keep their distance from me because, after a few years in here, they’ve learned to give me space. Not that I cause a lot of problems, just that I’m so fucking big that shit can get real in a hurry, and they don’t want to be next to my arm when it starts swinging.
I have a visitor today and I’m curious to see who it is. I’ve got a lot of enemies who would love to pay me a visit, but most of them are wanted and keep clear of prisons.
As I walk through the door to the visiting center, I look around the empty room and take a seat at the metal table. The guards stand along the wall behind me and relax a little. This must not be anyone they’re worried about if they seem so casual.
I hear the door on the other end of the room open, and I turn around to see my Cherry walking in.
Seeing her is almost like a punch to the stomach. “What the fuck are you doing here, Cherry?” I say, standing up so fast the chair under me nearly topples. Goddamn it, how did she get away from her guards?
She walks right up to me and—without preamble—asks, “Did you get my letters?” That’s the reason she’s here? I feel my heart beating out of my chest, and I try to play it cool. I don’t want the guards to touch her, so I don’t need to cause a reason for them to separate us.
“Yeah, I got them,” I say, but what I want to tell her is how much I love them. How they’re the only thing that get me through this hell of being away from her. But I can’t. No one can know how I feel about her.
“But…you never…” I watch as she processes what I’ve said, and it takes everything in my body not to go to her and make her understand that I’m doing this for her own good.
“Ever think there was a reason I didn’t respond? I threw them out. I don’t want you here.” It’s a lie, and it hurts to tell it, but I have to protect her. It hurts even more when I see the pain flash across her face. I hate putting it there but this is how it has to be if she doesn't want more torment to rain down on her. This is the only way to keep her safe. And it only works if she’s as far away from me as possible.
I watch her as she finally takes in the sight of me. Her eyes move up and down my body, and I can tell she likes what she sees. I haven’t been able to focus on anything but the shock of her presence, but when I eventually look at her body, I can’t control my reaction. She’s wearing a white v-neck t-shirt that shows off her big tits. It clings to her curves, and I can see her nipples are hard. She has really turned into a woman over the years. She’s wearing tight jeans and those goddamn heels of hers she always wears. All they do is make my dick hard, and she fucking knows it.
I grit my teeth so hard I feel like my jaw might crack, and I snap. Before I know it I find myself across the room with her in my arms and my mouth on hers. I can’t deny myself the touch of her lips any longer. She’s soft and sweet and, fucking hell, does she feel good against me. Her body melts to mine. It feels like my own body has finally found what it’s been searching for. I’ve waited for this moment since the second I laid eyes on her, and it’s more than I ever thought it would be. I can’t squeeze her tight enough, can’t kiss her hard enough, can’t breathe her into my body fast enough.
I kiss her with everything in me, wishing that she could hear my silent plea to wait for me. I try desperately to physically show her what I can’t tell her. I’m so distracted by our kiss that I don’t realize she’s been ripped away from me until it’s too late.
Three guards hold me down on the table, and I try to control my temper. It’s been years since I’ve seen her and, just like everything else in my life, it’s being torn from me. I could easily get them off of me, but I’m not looking to add time on to my sentence and mess up my plans. When I’m free I can have her, protect her from what is coming.
“Fuck, Cherry, never thought I was the jealous type,” I say, and try to control the anger coursing through me. It feels like a living thing. “Until you. Now get your fucking hands off her.” I snarl at the guards. I can’t stand the thought of someone else touching her. I’ve never cared about women before but ever since the day I saw my girl, I was done. And seeing other hands on her is enough to make me crazy. If I can’t have her no one else sure as fuck can. I don’t care if it’s selfish. She is mine until I take my last breath.
“Get. Them. The. Fuck. Off,” I snap again.
“This is my prison, Carter. You may get some leeway because of who you are, but there are cameras in here,” the guard holding Cherry says. I try to breathe through my madness because he’s right. We can’t have this on camera. If they saw how crazy I went over her, they would use her against me…again. The one thing in the world that has power over me is her. I would do anything for her. There’s no line I wouldn't cross for her.
“I just came for answers,” she whispers. The sadness in her voice is like a balm on my anger. It dampens and cools it, and my own sadness seeps in.
“I got no answers for you here. I don’t want to see your little ass in here again, Cherry.” I can see her visibly deflate at my words, and while it kills me to say it, it’s what has to be done for now.
“Says the man who just had his tongue down my throat,” she snaps, and I try to fight a grin. She loved it just as much as I did. I felt our connection. It’s always been there, I just finally gave her what we both want.
“I haven’t felt a woman’s body in years, can’t blame a man for taking opportunities as they arise,” I respond as the guards let me up. It’s a hurtful lie, but it’s a necessary one. She has to leave here and never come back. This is dangerous for both of us, and only time will fix it. I sit back in the metal chair and try to remain calm. I let the tension leave my body and try to look as if I don’t give a fuck about anything.
“I see I don’t have anyone now. Looks like I can go,” she says in a beaten voice, and it breaks my heart in two. I want to go to her and hold her in my arms and explain everything, but I can’t. I will beat myself up for today over the next four years.
“Good. Get gone,” I say, and it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do—to tell her to leave me and not come back.
I watch her as she pulls a picture from her pocket, and it drops to the floor. I can see from here it’s a picture she took of me. I remember that day and how she made me smile. Pain claws at my insides. I get up from my chair as she turns to leave.
“Don’t you worry, Carter, no one will be seeing me around anymore.” The door slams behind her and her words hit me like a truck. I don’t care what the consequences are. I have to take this pain out of my heart and put it on someone else.
As I throw my chair across the room and more guards pour in to try to get a hold of me, the only thing I can think of is how, once I get her back, I’ll never let her go. I’ll burn down the whole fucking world to have her. Four more years until I’m free. They won’t know what hit them when they see what happens when you try to take away the only thing that matters to me.
STEAMY Taking the Fall Series Teasers
Click on pictures for full view  Layla O’Leary has had enough. For years she has been haunted by the night she can’t remember. When she learns the only man she's ever loved has betrayed her, she escapes and crafts a new identity. She's finally free... Carter has waited eight years to claim his woman. Locking him up only fueled his obsession. The day he gets out he's coming for her. Taking the Fall was just the start. Now he'll stop at nothing to possess what's his. Warning: this book contains a hero who grunts and growls his way through life, a heroine nicknamed Cherry looking to lose it, and instalove so fast and hard your panties might disintegrate. Note: not responsible for exploding panties. Taking the Fall is a four part story. A new part will come out every two weeks.
Please note the endings are NOT relationship cliffhangers. Layla is Carter's. He would never touch another woman.
Taking the Fall Series, Volumes 2-4, $0.99 each
Click on covers for purchase information Giveaway
 We're thrilled to share an advance excerpt from Shards of Hope, Book 14 of the Psy-changeling series by New York Times bestselling author Nalini Singh. Since introduced to this highly addictive paranormal romance last year, we've been consumed with the brilliant writing and storytelling - filled with incendiary chemistry and lust, non-stop action, betrayal, and revenge. Shards of Hope releases on June 2nd, click here to pre-order today. If you can't wait, we have a treat for you with an excerpt, sneak peek & AMAZING Giveaway. Happy reading and enjoy.
Advance Excerpt from SHARDS OF HOPE
by Nalini Singh
Chapters 1 & 2 available here.
The ground was uneven, rocky, as they ran, the air cold in Zaira’s lungs but not knife sharp. Of course, that was now, right after she’d had an infusion of energy thanks to the drinks and the bar she’d eaten. The real test would come in an hour or two, when her injury began to make itself felt again. “Chopper’s about to land.” She could hear the jets that made it a high-speed vehicle. “Has to be a clearing nearby.” “Probably a natural one. Nothing to raise suspicion to anyone doing a flyover.” Shouts carried on the air soon afterward, but while this terrain might make for a good holding pen, it was so thickly forested that it also made for a very bad area to search. Especially when hunting two Arrows. Except one Arrow was badly wounded to the point that she was a liability. “I’m slowing you down,” she said, her breath coming too hard and too fast for someone with her training and endurance. Aden’s answer was to point down, to what she was just able to make out as flowing water. A river. Seeing his point, she headed in that direction, slip-sliding down the hill covered with small flowering shrubs and leaving a visible trail on purpose. Aden did the same. With luck, their pursuers would think they’d both slid right into the river. Going in a straight line to the river once they’d reached the bottom, she and Aden scuffed up the dirt near the water’s edge to further the illusion that they’d fallen in. “If we get wet,” she said, “we’re dead.” The water was a hard rush, as if swollen by rain upstream. Not even the strongest swimmer could fight that current, keep from being smashed up against rocks or into broken tree trunks caught in the torrent. That is, if the cold didn’t stop the heart first. “Rocks,” Aden said, pointing out the jagged stepping-stones she’d missed in the darkness. If her hearing was acute, Aden’s night vision was just as sharp. It had made them an excellent team on the rare missions they’d worked together. “We get to the other side and we have a much higher chance of survival. They won’t expect it.” “Because I can’t make it.” She knew her balance was off, her body weak; she currently didn’t have the physical agility to cross the “bridge” of stones, especially when each stone was covered with a thin and no doubt slippery layer of wet green moss. “You go that way and I’ll lead them left.” Aden took off the daypack, gave it to her. “Put it on.” When she went to open her mouth, he said, “For once, Zaira, don’t argue.” “I only argue when you’re wrong.” She put on the pack against her better judgment because time was their enemy. “You need the supplies and I can’t go far.” He turned his back to her. “Get on.” “Aden, that’s a bad decision. We’ll both go into the water.” The sounds of pursuit were getting louder. “Go. I’ll lead them off.” Looking over his shoulder, he held her gaze, the deep, liquid brown of his irises so intense it felt like a physical weight anchoring her where she stood. “Either we both go or neither one of us goes. Choose.” To continue reading this scene, please visit USA Today’s Happy Ever After blog live now! Shards of Hope (releasing June 2nd)
Psy-Changeling Series Book 14
 The “smoldering heat, epic romance, and awesome action” (Jaci Burton) of Nalini Singh’s New York Timesbestselling series continues as two Arrows find themselves caught in a chilling conspiracy that spans all three races…
Awakening wounded in a darkened cell, their psychic abilities blocked, Aden and Zaira know they must escape. But when the lethal soldiers break free from their mysterious prison, they find themselves in a harsh, inhospitable landscape far from civilization. Their only hope for survival is to make it to the hidden home of a predatory changeling pack that doesn’t welcome outsiders.
And they must survive. A shadowy enemy has put a target on the back of the Arrow squad, an enemy that cannot be permitted to succeed in its deadly campaign. Aden will cross any line to keep his people safe for this new future, where even an assassin might have hope of a life beyond blood and death and pain. Zaira has no such hope. She knows she’s too damaged to return from the abyss. Her driving goal is to protect Aden, protect the only person who has ever come back for her no matter what. This time, even Aden’s passionate determination may not be enough—because the emotionless chill of Silence existed for a reason. For the violent, and the insane, and the irreparably broken…like Zaira.
 Nalini Singh dives into a world torn apart by a powerful race with phenomenal powers of the mind-and none of the heart.
In a world that denies emotions, where the ruling Psy punish any sign of desire, Sascha Duncan must conceal the feelings that brand her as flawed. To reveal them would be to sentence herself to the horror of "rehabilitation" - the complete psychic erasure of everything she ever was...
Both human and animal, Lucas Hunter is a changeling hungry for the very sensations the Psy disdain. After centuries of uneasy coexistence, these two races are now on the verge of war over the brutal murders of several changeling women. Lucas is determined to find the Psy killer who butchered his packmate, and Sascha is his ticket into their closely guarded society. But he soon discovers that this ice-cold Psy is very capable of passion - and that the animal in him is fascinated by her. Caught between their conflicting worlds, Lucas and Sascha must remain bound to their identities - or sacrifice everything for a taste of darkest temptation...
Psy-Changeling Series Books 2-13 Meet the Author Nalini Singh is the New York Times bestselling author of the Psy-Changeling novels and the Guild Hunter series. She is passionate about writing. Though she’s traveled as far afield as the deserts of China, the Highlands of Scotland, and the temples of Japan, it is the journey of the imagination that fascinates her the most. She’s beyond delighted to be able to follow her dream as a writer. Nalini lives and works in beautiful New Zealand. Visit her website and join her newsletter for up-to-date news about both her series, as well as fun exclusive extras, including free short stories set in her worlds.
STALK HER: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
GIVEAWAY
We're thrilled to share an exclusive deleted scene from Pucked by Helena Hunting. The steamy scene involves table sex.... need we say more? ;) If you're looking for something fun, hilarious, completely over the top and a highly entertaining hot mess of inappropriateness, here it is! Puck is live and burning up the top 100 bestsellers on Amazon. Click here to get this standa-alone romantic comedy now. Alex is so sexy & dreamy! Find out about his Super MC. #TRSoRfave Deleted Scene: Table Sex So there were a few changes near the end of the story, and with those changes came the cutting of this scene. Not because I didn’t love it, because I do, but because there was already a lot of sexy times, and this one no longer fit into the story. I love this scene for so many reasons, and I’m glad I get to share it as an outtake/deleted scene.
- Note from Helena Hunting The Lost Sex Scene (because there was just too much)
I hit the shower. Alex wants to come but I need private time; the beave needs some scaping. He stands outside the door, knocking on occasion to see if I need help. When I’m done, he stomps by me while pouting takes one of his own.
While he cleans up, I decide to order in dinner since all I have is snack food. Alex’s laptop is available. Alex’s email pops up as soon as I open it. He has a ridiculous number of unanswered messages. I minimize the screens to get to his desktop, which is rife with folders. I see one called “Beaver.”
I doubt it has anything to do with the furry animal, and everything to do with porn. I check over my shoulder. For what purpose, I’m not entirely certain. I can hear the water running in the bathroom, and no one else in my apartment. Maybe I’m awaiting the arrival of the folder-hacking fairy? She hasn’t shown up, so I click on the folder like the nosy, pseudo-hacker I am.
There are dated folders inside the main folder. The first one I click on has recent pictures of Alex and me making out in public. I smile, then remember his mother has probably seen them. Still, I feel better knowing that he, too, has a porn folder of us.
The next sub-folder is called “Beaver Sleuth.” I go ahead and click on it. These pictures of me aren’t from the media. They were taken a couple of years back when Skye and Sidney had just gotten married. They took us all on a family vacation so we could bond. Buck found a group of dickheads to hang out with on the first day. All they did was hit on me. The dickheads, not Buck. That would’ve been weird. Regardless, it was quite the experience. But that’s neither here nor there. What I want to know is how Alex came upon copies of these.
As I browse the folder, I come across one where my butt cheek is hanging out the bottom of my bikini. I was so pissed at Buck for catching me like that, and now Alex has seen it. Not that he hasn’t seen my ass up close and personal many, many times. I just don’t understand why he feels the need to have old pictures of it peeking out for the world to see, when he can have the real thing any time he wants.
I’m so engrossed in checking out my own partially exposed derriere I don’t hear Alex come up behind me. It’s not until his hard-on is pressed up against my back that I realize two things: I’m creeping on his computer, and I didn’t put real clothes on after my shower—unless you count a Hawks bathrobe.
“Watcha lookin’ at?”
He mutters an expletive as he takes in the image filling the screen. Interestingly, his immediate reaction is to reach up and grab my boobs. As though he’s trying to protect them, from what I’m not sure, but he squeezes them nonetheless. Maybe he’s trying to distract me.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“So this isn’t a picture of me with my butt hanging out that you somehow managed to get from Buck? What’s he still doing with them anyway, and why in the world would he share them with you?” I try to turn around, but Alex keeps me pinned against the table with the weight of his hips and the monster cock.
“He didn’t share them with me.” I glare at his hands, which are anxiously kneading my breasts.
“You have three seconds to start explaining before I kick your ass. And don’t bother telling me I can’t kick your ass. I know that. But I’ll lay a smackdown on the monster cock. I have a feeling he’s the mastermind behind all of this . . . this . . . butt porn.” I push my ass out against his still-hard monster cock. My boyfriend is such a pervert. Mostly I love it.
“Back up,” I order.
Alex complies and I spin around, crossing my arms over the girls. This is so I look angry, which I am, and also to cover my awesome rack. I don’t want to provide any distractions while he explains why he has ass porn from well before we met each other. I suddenly wonder if he’s been harbouring a secret crush on me for years, which could be mildly endearing if it wasn’t super creepy. I mull this over for a moment while Alex collects himself. His panic is obvious.
“Remember when we first had sex?”
I jab a finger into his solid chest. “Don’t try and distract me with sex!”
“I’m not! I’m not! But you do remember, right? The first time and the second?” His left dimple makes a brief appearance before he smartly schools his expression.
“Of course I remember.” That night, while not my best in terms of decision making, was amazing. It’s why we’re standing here. And we love each other.
“So you also remember how you took off without waking me up first and didn’t call me back after I left you messages?”
Dear God, we aren’t going here again, are we? For a famous guy, Alex has a soft ego.
"I told you why I didn’t call you back."
“Now don’t get mad at me.” The precursor to the explanation can’t be good. I can tell already. “So I was getting desperate to talk to you. I mean, you left your glasses behind. I thought that meant you wanted to see me again, but then you didn’t call me back. I didn’t know what to do. I thought maybe I’d done something wrong. I wanted to see you. I was—You were on my mind constantly.”
We’ve never talked about what happened after the first beaver-wood intro. “Really?”
“Yeah. You’re this incredibly funny, sexy woman who liked that I was smart and didn’t give a rat’s ass about hockey. How could I not be taken with you? So when you didn’t call me back, I resorted to,” he bites his lip and looks down, “creeping Buck’s Facebook profile.”
“You hacked into it?”
“No. I just creeped it. There’s where I found the pictures.”
“Wait. What? Those pictures are still on his profile? I told him to take them down two years ago.”
“I guess he didn’t listen. He really should have. Those pictures are something else. I didn’t know when you’d be at another game, or if you wanted to see me. You told me you loved my cock, how could I not want to see you again after that?” Alex gets a wistful, faraway look before he continues. “So when I saw the picture with your little cheek hanging out, I thought to myself, ‘Self, I’ve already seen that fine ass up close and personal. I’ve held onto it while she rides my cock, I know how soft that skin feels. Is it that wrong for me to have a picture of one cheek playing peekaboo to look at while I whack off occasionally?’” Alex stops rambling to see how I’m taking his truth vomit.
“You whack off to the pictures in this folder?” I thumb over my shoulder at the computer. I should be angry, maybe even concerned about how sketchy Alex was at the beginning of our relationship. My beaver however, is already very interested in the visual of Alex stroking his monster cock.
Alex, like the massive horny, pervert he is, must sense my sudden arousal because he takes a slow step toward me. “Do you want to see my favourite ones?”
“Okay?” It’s a question. I’m not one-hundred percent on this.
Alex adjusts himself through his towel. “I’m sorry I saved those pictures, but only the ones from Buck. The rest I’m not sorry about at all.” He leans in to kiss me. “ They got me through the weeks when I couldn’t see you, or touch you, or be inside of you.”
He’s a crafty devil. I would formulate a response, but I’m too busy with mouth fucking. We kiss like that for a few minutes; with Alex’s very obvious hard-on nestled against my stomach.
His lips move to my neck and he turns me to face the computer, again. Alex’s MC is sandwiched between him and my ass. He reaches around and clicks the cursor, opening one of the sub folders entitled ‘JACK.’ I already have a folder called ‘JILL’ on my own laptop.
Alex has a ridiculous number of pictures of my cleavage. Much of it appears to have come from his cell phone based on the photo quality. He must sneak a lot of pictures when I’m not paying attention. He’s captured me in the Water’s shirt and panties; the one’s with WATERS’ ASS on the ass. I remember that occasion well. Alex wouldn’t let me put pants on to watch the movie. It ended up being a non-issue since I lost the underwear ten minutes into the flick. Just before they disappeared he snapped a pic while I was bent over in front of him.
“I have a nice ass.”
“Oh, it’s better than nice,” Alex agrees and presses his dick against my ass cheek. His hands migrate from my waist to my hips, thumbs sliding back and forth under the waistband.
“It’s still a ‘no go’ zone,” I warn.
“Oh, I know that, baby. Your ass is far too nice to violate with this,” Alex murmurs.
He makes it sounds so damn dirty. For a moment I entertain the idea that maybe we could—no way. It’ll never happen. Ever. That thing does damage to my cooter if I’m not prepped enough—which has only happened once. I can’t fathom the trauma if he tried to get it into my ‘area 51.’
At the soft sound of Alex’s towel hitting the floor, my entire body flames with heat. We are so going to do it in my kitchen, possibly on top of my dining room table.
“This need to come off, please.” Usually, he requests rather than demands. Regardless, I’m going to enjoy some kitchen lovin.’
He pulls the tie on my robe and tugs on the sleeves. It pools at my feet on the floor. Palms flat against the table, I push my ass out.
“This is going to be fucking fantastic.”
Leaning forward, he pushes the laptop to the middle of the table. I assume this is to give us more room. Once it’s out of the way, he runs one hand up my spine, pushing down when he reached my shoulder. His monster cock slides along my ‘access denied’ crack.
“Alex!” I protest, but I’m also moaning, so it lacks true conviction.
He backs away; the monster cock no longer making contact. I’d rather have him close to the ‘no go’ zone than not touching me at all. His hands travel along the outside of my thighs.
“What are you doing?” I crane my neck to look at him. It’s awkward.
“Deciding how exactly I want to have you.”
Alex’s fingers curl around the back of my knee as he lifts my leg up and to the side. I don’t know what he’s doing, so my first reaction is to resist. “Relax, baby. I’m going to take care of you like I always do.”
I give in, resting my cheek against the table.
“That’s better.” He sets my knee on the table, as though I’m climbing over the edge. The angle should be conducive for excellent penetration and a fantastic view for Alex. He’s all about visual stimulation tonight, I suppose.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the first night you stayed over. Except I thought we’d be doing it on my kitchen island.” His palms ease up the back of my thighs. “This is good, though. Maybe when you finally move in with me, I’ll do you like this again.”
“That sounds like a great idea.”
“You can move in whenever you want.”
A moment later, he bites my right ass cheek. I gasp and then moan as he licks from my clit to penetration station. I’m shocked for all of a second before I succumb to sensation. After a few minutes of teasing, his thumb brushes my clit, followed by his tongue.
My plea is semi-coherent. “Alex, please. I want to come.”
“I bet you do.”
It’s another endless minute until his fingers find their way inside me. It takes less time than that for me to fall apart, muttering profanities about my love for all his moving appendages.
I push up on unsteady arms, groping blindly for his erection.
Alex thwacks me on the ass with his dick. “Is this what you’re looking for?”
My protest over the cock-spank is short-lived. Alex kisses my cheek, runs the head of his cock over my clit and pushes inside. Moving slowly, he gives me time to adjust.
“I like this table,” I tell him, as he hits the perfect spot with each thrust.
“Me, too. I especially like eating you on it. Maybe tomorrow I’ll have you for breakfast.”
Sometimes he’s a smooth motherpucker. He pushes away, his chest no longer against my back. His hands are on my hips as he pulls out slowly and fills me even slower. “How’s this? Does it feel good?”
It occurs to me, that while he asks because he truly is a courteous lover, he also likes to hear me say dirty things during sex. It might be an ego thing, too, but I can’t be sure. I'll have to test that theory later.
“More.” I want more speed, more friction, more of him on me, in me.
“You’re already taking all of me, baby, more what?” He increases the pace a little.
I arch my back. “More cock.”
Alex groans, deep and guttural. “That’s just—” Then he fucks the living hell right out of me on my new table.
Damn right, ‘that’s just.’ The change of angle means he hits that spot inside that makes me see unicorns jumping rainbows. The porno moans begin. He’s like a jackrabbit. When I come, it’s hard. I fall forward, holding onto the edge for dear life. From what I can tell he’s got lots of stamina left before he throws in the towel. He slows down, though, giving me time to recover from the orgasm roller coaster. When he picks up the pace again, I feel another orgasm tingling my beaver button. My groan must give me away.
“I’m almost there, wait for me, baby.”
What? He wants me to wait for him? How the hell do I do that? I squeeze the beaver, hoping it will postpone my orgasm. I don’t have much hope of holding out, not that I know how to in the first place.
I begin to protest, but my words catch in my throat at the feel of his fingers on either side of his giant cock. More distracting is the finger perilously close to my backdoor. When it comes in contact with my ‘no go’ zone, I involuntarily push my ass toward him. What the hell? That’s not supposed to happen. Alex must take this as a green light. I feel an odd, uncomfortable pressure and then, sweet lord, I come so hard everything goes white.
“That is so fucking sexy,” Alex says as he thrusts into me, over and over and over again.
He hasn’t even come yet, and worse, if he keeps it up, I’m going to come again. And I do, just as he stills.
Once all of his body parts are no long invading mine, I wobble around to face him, working to remain indignant. “You!” I shake an unsteady finger in his face. “No access. Not allowed, and you—”
“You didn’t like it?” Alex catches me in his arms and sets me on the table.
“That’s not the point!” So what if I liked it? “I specifically told you that wasn’t a place to be putting your parts.”
“So you did like it.” He smirks.
“I hate you.” I smack his chest weakly.
“You love me.” He wraps me up in him.
“Whatever.” I will not admit I liked what he just did.
“I won’t do it again if you don’t want me to. I just thought I’d try . . .” He kisses my temple, all soft and sweet. “I don’t expect to ever get anything in there other than a finger or maybe two.”
Damn him.
“Fine.”
Teasers
Click on pictures for full view Pucked, Synopsis and Purchase Link
Stand-alone Romantic Comedy  With a famous NHL player for a stepbrother, Violet Hall is well acquainted with the playboy reputation of many a hockey star. So of course she isn’t interested in legendary team captain Alex Waters or his pretty, beat-up face and rock-hard six-pack abs. When Alex inadvertently obliterates Violet’s misapprehension regarding the inferior intellect of hockey players, he becomes much more than just a hot body with the face to match.
Suffering from a complete lapse in judgment, Violet discovers just how good Alex is with the hockey stick in his pants. Violet believes her night of orgasmic magic with Alex is just that: one night. But Alex starts to call. And text. And email and send extravagant—and quirky—gifts. Suddenly, he's too difficult to ignore, and nearly impossible not to like.
The problem is, the media portrays Alex as a total player, and Violet doesn’t want to be part of the game.
Brighton Walsh recently released Tessa Ever After. This standalone sequel to Caged in Winter focuses on Tessa's day to day struggles of being a single parent. Since life has a tendency to bring her down and throw her curve ball after curve ball She turns to her brother's best friend to help her through. Jason is a sweet, funny and rich playboy who somehow finds himself only wanting to be with Tessa and her adorable daughter. If you are looking for a cute, real life romance about falling in love with the one person you are told not to, this one is for you! Today, we are pleased to give you the opportunity to introduce you to the explosive chemistry between these two characters in a scorching EXCLUSIVE sneak peek that will leave you wanting more. Also, be sure to enter to WIN Tessa Ever After & an annotated copy of Caged in Winter. Good Luck & Enjoy! Exclusive Excerpt: Meet Jason & Tessa Jason doesn’t give me any warning before he captures my mouth with his, pushing through my lips to slide his tongue against mine without waiting for any indication from me. This kiss is a promise . . . a possession, and I love every second of it.
His hands grapple at me, pulling at the too-wide neckline of my sleep shirt until it falls off my shoulder and not stopping until he has the front pulled below my breast. A groaned curse leaves his lips as he descends, placing sharp, nipping kisses down my chest until he gets to my nipple and sucks it harshly into his mouth.
I cry out, my hands flying to his hair as one of his hands reaches for my yoga pants, pulling the side down until half my ass hangs out the back and he has an unobstructed path into my panties. And then his whole hand disappears under the cotton of my underwear, his fingers stroking, back and forth, up and down, until I’m panting and grasping to him for support.
“Come on, baby. Give me one out here.” His strokes turn measured, his fingers sliding down to slip inside me, and then stroking back up to circle the wetness around my clit. Faster and faster until I can barely see straight. Breath against my ear, forehead resting on the wall beside my head, he says, “Come on my hand, then I’m going to take you to your bedroom, lay you facedown on the bed so you can muffle your screams in a pillow, pull that pretty little ass up, and fuck you until you come again.”
“God,” I say on a moan, my whole body tightening until it’s almost painful, his words and promises only pushing me that much further. “Just . . . just take me now. Now, Jason.” I don’t even recognize my voice—all throaty and breathless, begging someone to fuck her.
“No, not until you come.”
I groan, dropping my head back against the wall, and move my hips against his hand faster, pressing down on his seeking fingers, wanting him deeper, harder, wanting him to take me like he kissed me. With complete and utter possession.
He slides his fingers as deep as he can, curling them inside me, his palm grinding against my clit, and fireworks explode behind my eyelids.
“Fuck yeah,” he groans against my neck. “Knew you’d give it to me.”
Jason peels the clothes from my body as he walks me backward to my bedroom, and by the time he’s kicked the door shut behind us, I’m completely naked.
“Get on the bed, Tess. Just like I said.”
I nod, moving until the backs of my knees hit the mattress, not ready to turn my back on him and miss a second of him stripping off his own clothes. He does it quickly and efficiently, and when his boxers are on the floor with everything else and he takes himself in his hand, gripping tightly and groaning, I drop back on the bed, not sure my legs can even support me any longer.
I do as he said in the living room, lying on my stomach, watching him over my shoulder as he walks toward me. He traces a line up both legs with his fingers, then he leans down and bites me right on my ass.
“Hey!” I yelp, then moan as he licks a path straight up my spine, straddling my thighs as he goes. He kisses my shoulder blades, brushes the hair away from my neck, and kisses me there, too.
Then he pulls back and grips my hips, saying, “Lift up for me, baby.”
With his legs pressed to the outside of mine, I’m forced to keep my thighs together. I lift up as best I can, helping him guide me into the position he wants me, his cock sliding up and down the length of me, driving me out of my damn mind. “Jason,” I groan, trying to push back against him.
“Are you wet enough? I’m not sure you are.”
The question is absurd because I can hear him sliding through me. I open my mouth to tell him just that when he backs away, and then he grips the outside of my thighs and gives me one long, slow, torturous lick from my clit to my entrance.
“Oh my God . . .”
He moves his face down, the tip of his tongue pressing to my clit as he hooks two fingers inside of me and proceeds to steal every breath from my lungs. I tighten around him, barreling closer and closer to my second orgasm, his answering groan reverberating against me and shoving me the rest of the way over.
 In this grippingly emotional New Adult novel from the author of Caged in Winter, what you want isn’t always what you need…
Jason’s been living (and loving) the rich playboy lifestyle for five years, but now his parents are pressuring him to get involved in the family business. The last thing he wants is another obligation, but when his best friend moves out of state and asks Jason to look after his sister, he can’t just say no.
Tessa had to grow up way too soon. After dealing with the aftermath of her parents’ deaths, then becoming a teenage mom, she knows the meaning of responsibility. Which is why, at twenty-two, she’s looking for so much more than a party boy. She’s looking for someone who can stand by her and her daughter…forever.
A relationship between them is doomed from the start, but who says they can’t have a little fun? But as Jason gets closer to Tessa—and her daughter—fun starts to turn into something else… Something Jason’s not sure he’s ready for.
 In this emotional and sexy New Adult debut from Brighton Walsh, the only thing more frightening than commitment is hope...
Aspiring chef Cade Maxwell is immediately, viscerally attracted to Winter Jacobson. But it's not her mouthwatering curves he's drawn to--it's the strange emptiness in her eyes. When Cade saves her from a drunken customer with grabby hands, he's shocked at her response...
Winter doesn't need Cade's help. After a lifetime of getting by on her own, she's happy to rely on herself. She's exactly seventy-six days away from graduating college, and if she can hold it together that long, she'll finally be able to rise above the crappy hand she was dealt.
But now, every time she turns around, Cade is there, ready to push her, smile at her, distract her from her plans. Winter knows she can't afford to open up--especially to a man she's terrified to actually want...
 Brighton Walsh spent nearly a decade as a professional photographer before deciding to take her storytelling in a different direction and reconnect with writing. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and two children. Stalk Her: Twitter | Facebook | Goodreads | Website
GIVEAWAY
 The Gentleman Mentor is LIVE! New erotic stand-alone by New York Times bestselling author Kendall Ryan released today! Let's celebrate! Read a super steamy exclusive excerpt, a guest post from Kendall Ryan, and enter a signed giveaway! 2 winners! Happy reading and good luck!
Scorching HOT Exclusive Excerpt:
Meet Brielle and Hale When he pulls his mouth from mine, I gasp for breath, feeling disoriented like I’ve just run a marathon. And fuck, that was from just one kiss.
“Were you going to let that man touch your wet little pussy?” His voice is deep and slightly breathless.
“No!” I gasp.
“That’s right you’re not. He did nothing to earn that privilege. And for the next six weeks, this pussy is mine. Say it, Brielle.”
“For the next six weeks, I’m yours.”
“Not good enough. Say it.”
“My pussy is yours.” My intimate muscles clench as the words leave my mouth.
“That’s right,” he says, moving his hand over the front of my dress to cup my sex through the fabric. “Mine.” When my hips involuntarily push toward his hand, he meets my eyes with a serious expression. “It’s been too long, hasn’t it, peach? Should I let you come so you’re able to focus on our lesson?”
I make a weak, desperate sound in my throat, my lust-fogged brain fighting with myself to hold it together when…oh.
His hands slip beneath the hem of my dress and tug my panties down my hips. The black thong slips to my ankles, stopping at my heels. I must be quite a sight, pinned against the wall with my underwear at my feet.
Guest Post: Exploring BDSM with Kendall Ryan The Gentleman Mentor is my first foray into exploring the theme of BDSM in a novel, and not knowing much about this world, I knew I needed help in order to breathe life into the story.
I was coached by a real life Dom, and his sub who are husband and wife, as well as another Domme. It was very eye-opening! Writing BDSM isn't just about some boundary-pushing sex scenes. I wanted to capture the true personality of a Dominant - so all of his actions, inner thoughts, and dialogue had to fit. It was a challenge, and a fun one for me!
I call it BDSM-lite, because if you're looking for a hardcore BDSM read with lots of creative implements, this isn't it. It's a romantic, and yes, erotic read, about a Dominant for hire who teaches women the art of seduction and love-making.
While writing this novel, my coaches were incredibly helpful from explaining how a BDSM club works, to reading and critiquing parts of my story, to casting light on how a Dom behaves - which was my favorite part. I learned to make him confident and sure, almost to the point of cockiness. His dialogue is rarely in the form of a question. He gives commands, and direction, while always looking after his partner's well-being. After writing this, I now need my own Dom!
It’s out today, and here’s the blurb if you’d like to learn more.
xoxo,
Kendall
 He calls himself the Gentleman Mentor.
Just reading his ad makes me feel more alive than I have in years.
He promises to teach me the art of seduction … and show me the most sinfully erotic pleasures. He’s going to help me become the kind of confident, sexy woman men can’t ignore.
Six lessons … with the most gorgeous man … who happens to be a Dom.
The only problem … now that I’ve experienced his brand of delectable domination will anyone else ever compare?
She’s a client. That’s all.
Or it should be.
But with every lesson, she’s becoming more.
The secrets I’m hiding behind the image of the Gentleman Mentor make telling her the truth—and having anything real—impossible.
I’m training her for another man, and that fact guts me every time I think of it.
I know she’s not mine … but part of me won’t accept that.
Am I willing to risk it all to keep her?
Giveaway: Win Signed Copy + 2 Winners
Have you met John Logan, hockey "player" extraordinaire? The Mistake by Elle Kennedy is one of our favorite sport romances this year. Grace & Logan's relationship is unexpected but immediately explosive and is NOW AVAILABLE! Read an excerpt & enter to win a SIGNED PAPERBACK of this fantastic Off-Campus romance! Excerpt Come over tonight?
I’ve been staring at Grace’s text message ever since I got out of the shower. Which was, oh, thirty-eight minutes ago. Wait—I look at the alarm clock. Make that thirty-nine minutes.
I really ought to message back. I haven’t spoken to her since Thursday. Granted, that isn’t an obscene amount of time considering it’s Saturday and she had dinner plans with her father yesterday. So technically, I’ve only been avoiding her for a day and a half.
She doesn’t know I’m avoiding her, though. If she did, she wouldn’t have invited me over.
The way I see it, I have three options.
Option 1: Ignore the invitation.
And if she texts again, ignore that too. And then keep ignoring her until she gets the message that I’m not interested. Which is a whopping lie, because I am interested. I have fun with her, and if I weren’t so fucked in the head about this Hannah thing, I’d absolutely keep seeing Grace.
Christ, I shouldn’t have allowed Thursday’s impromptu date to happen. It’s not fair to lead her on like this.
Which brings me to option 2: Message back, decline the invitation, and tell her I can’t see her again because of (insert bullshit excuse here).
Except…well, I’ve been brushed off via text before and it fucking sucks.
So that leaves option 3: Go over there and talk to her in person. That’s the mature course of action, the one I should definitely take. But the thought of glimpsing even a shred of hurt or disappointment in her eyes makes me sick to my stomach.
Man up already.
Fuck. I guess it’s time to pull up my big boy pants. Be a man, rub some dirt in it and all that shit. After our night at the water tower, Grace deserves a helluva lot more than a text brush-off.
Stifling a sigh, I drop the towel I’ve been wearing for the last…forty-two minutes now. I grab a pair of clean boxers and jeans, zip up, and throw on a black sweater my mom got me for Christmas. It’s tighter than the shirts I normally wear, but it’s the first thing I find in my dresser and I’m in too much of a hurry to change.
I swipe my phone off the bed and text Grace.
Me: When?
Her: Now, if you want.
She punctuates that with a smiley face. Shit.
Me: omw. Book Summary & Purchase link
Book Two (standalone within a series)  He’s a player in more ways than one…
College junior John Logan can get any girl he wants. For this hockey star, life is a parade of parties and hook-ups, but behind his killer grins and easygoing charm, he hides growing despair about the dead-end road he’ll be forced to walk after graduation. A sexy encounter with freshman Grace Ivers is just the distraction he needs, but when a thoughtless mistake pushes her away, Logan plans to spend his final year proving to her that he’s worth a second chance.
Now he’s going to need to up his game…
After a less than stellar freshman year, Grace is back at Briar University, older, wiser, and so over the arrogant hockey player she nearly handed her V-card to. She’s not a charity case, and she’s not the quiet butterfly she was when they first hooked up. If Logan expects her to roll over and beg like all his other puck bunnies, he can think again. He wants her back? He’ll have to work for it. This time around, she’ll be the one in the driver’s seat…and she plans on driving him wild.
Book Summary & Purchase link
Book One (standalone within a series)  She's about to make a deal with the college bad boy...
Hannah Wells has finally found someone who turns her on. But while she might be confident in every other area of her life, she's carting around a full set of baggage when it comes to sex and seduction. If she wants to get her crush's attention, she'll have to step out of her comfort zone and make him take notice...even if it means tutoring the annoying, childish, cocky captain of the hockey team in exchange for a pretend date.
...and it's going to be oh so good
All Garrett Graham has ever wanted is to play professional hockey after graduation, but his plummeting GPA is threatening everything he's worked so hard for. If helping a sarcastic brunette make another guy jealous will help him secure his position on the team, he's all for it. But when one unexpected kiss leads to the wildest sex of both their lives, it doesn't take long for Garrett to realize that pretend isn't going to cut it. Now he just has to convince Hannah that the man she wants looks a lot like him.
 A RITA-award nominated author, Elle Kennedy grew up in the suburbs of Toronto, Ontario, and holds a B.A. in English from York University. From an early age, she knew she wanted to be a writer, and actively began pursuing that dream when she was a teenager.
Elle currently publishes with Harlequin Romantic Suspense, Harlequin Blaze, Samhain Publishing, and NAL. She loves strong heroines and sexy alpha heroes, and just enough heat and danger to keep things interesting!
Stalk her: Website |Facebook | Goodreads
GIVEAWAY
The Friend Zone by Kristen Callihan releases May 5th and we can't wait for everyone to meet Gray- Gray and Ivy "Mac". If you love sports romance, quirky - fun banter and a light fun story don't miss this fabulous sports romance! "Gray drives Ivy crazy. He's irreverent, sex on a stick, and completely off limits."
Read an excerpt & enter to win a $10 gift card from The Rock Stars of Romance! Did we mention, we love, love, love this book! Excerpt: Meet Ivy & Grayson Ivy
Side-by-side we lie, his soft breaths stirring my hair. And his hand resting on my belly. Except it isn’t at rest. His fingers shift, a slight caress as if he can’t help but test the texture of my skin. It’s the tiniest of movements, and my heart stutters at the touch, every nerve in my body focusing on that one spot.
When I don’t move, he strokes again, the same hesitant exploration. Heat flares over my skin. My heartbeat is a drum in my ears, and I struggle to keep still. Because I don’t want him to stop.
He doesn’t. Slowly, his pinky skims over my skin. His touch is so soft, I might have missed it. Only all of my awareness is on him and the progress he makes. He keeps going, and when he grazes the edge of my panties, my thighs clench, my clit tightening as if he plucked it.
As if my continued stillness is a sign of permission, his touch grows bolder. Gently, he draws his fingers over the sensitive skin on my stomach, down, then up. Behind me, his body is rock solid, his breath stilted as if he’s holding it.
And I lie there, pretending this isn’t happening. But it is. A slow tremble is working its way through me as heat licks between my thighs. With each delicate pass over my skin, he covers more ground. I close my eyes, focus on those fingers, how they tickle along my side, trace my panties, then trail upwards over my ribs.
I want to arch my back, push against the large swell of his cock that’s growing hard against my ass. His fingertips graze the underside of my breast, and I stop breathing. My nipples draw tight. He hovers there, just under my breasts, barely touching them.
My mind races. What are we doing? We’re crazy to do this. Everything will change. I should stop this. But I don’t want to.
I hear him swallow, feel the rapid thump of his heart against by back. My teeth sink down on my lip. It’s torture staying still, not begging him to go higher. Because I want him to. So fucking badly my breasts ache. And I want him to go lower as well, stick those long fingers of his under my panties. But I can’t. Somehow, by silent agreement, we’re both pretending this isn’t happening. If we don’t talk, don’t acknowledge it, we can do this.
And so I lie still, breath short, body aching, waiting.
Then he moves, sliding his fingers over the curve of my breast, up toward my nipple. I bite my lip harder, willing myself not to whimper. God, but my nipple throbs, waiting for that touch. But it doesn’t come. The bastard traces under it, slowly stroking my skin, teasing me.
I shiver, my back tensing as I arch just a little bit, silently begging with my body. And he tenses against me, pressing closer. His breathing speeds up, and I know he can see over my shoulder. That he’s watching.
Blindly, I stare forward, but in my periphery I can see his hand, inching up my shirt, exposing me. A small sound rumbles deep in his chest. I’m so hot now, I can barely breathe. I want to move. I don’t. We both freeze, knowing that if he slides any closer, if he touches my nipple, we’ve fully crossed a line. Book Summary & link (standalone within a series) Gray doesn't make friends with women. He has sex with them. Until Ivy.
The last thing star tight-end Gray Grayson wants to do is drive his agent's daughter's bubblegum pink car. But he needs the wheels and she's studying abroad. Something he explains when she sends him an irate text to let him know exactly how much pain she'll put him in if he crashes her beloved ride. Before he knows it, Ivy Mackenzie has become his best texting bud. But then Ivy comes home and everything goes haywire. Because the only thing Gray can think of is being with Ivy.
Ivy doesn't have sex with friends. Especially not with a certain football player. No matter how hot he makes her...
Gray drives Ivy crazy. He's irreverent, sex on a stick, and completely off limits. Because, Ivy has one golden rule: never get involved with one of her father's clients. A rule that's proving harder to keep now that Gray is doing his best to seduce her. Her best friend is fast becoming the most irresistible guy she's ever met.
Which means Gray is going to have to use all his skills to win Ivy's heart. Game on.
New Adult/Contemporary Romance with a HEA - Recommended for readers 18 and older.
Book 2 in the Game On series.
Book One: The Hookup (standalone within a series)
Book Summary & link The rules: no kissing on the mouth, no staying the night, no telling anyone, and above all... No falling in love
Anna Jones just wants to finish college and figure out her life. Falling for star quarterback Drew Baylor is certainly not on her to do list. Confident and charming, he lives in the limelight and is way too gorgeous for his own good. If only she could ignore his heated stares and stop thinking about doing hot and dirty things with him. Easy right?
Too bad he's committed to making her break every rule...
Football has been good to Drew. It's given him recognition, two National Championships, and the Heisman. But what he really craves is sexy yet prickly Anna Jones. Her cutting humor and blatant disregard for his fame turns him on like nothing else. But there's one problem: she's shut him down. Completely.
That is until a chance encounter leads to the hottest sex of their lives, along with the possibility of something great. Unfortunately, Anna wants it to remain a hook up. Now it's up to Drew to tempt her with more: more sex, more satisfaction, more time with him. Until she's truly hooked. It's a good thing Drew knows all about winning.
All's fair in love and football...Game on
Additional Teasers
(click on pictures for full view)  Kristen Callihan is a child of the 80’s, which means she's worn neon skirts, black-lace gloves, and combat boots (although never all at once) and can quote John Hughes movies with the best of them. A life long daydreamer, she finally realized that the characters in her head needed a proper home and thus hit the keyboard. She believes that falling in love is one of the headiest experiences a person can have, so naturally she writes romance. Her love of superheroes, action movies, and history led her to write historical paranormals. She lives in the Washington D.C. area and, when not writing, looks after two children, one husband, and a dog — the fish can fend for themselves. Stalk Her: Website | Facebook |Twitter | Goodreads | Pinterest
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 We're thrilled to spotlight Waiting for the One by L.A. Fiore - a stand-alone contemporary romance that just released this week and is already burning up the bestsellers lists.
Click here now to get your own copy.
Check out the stunning teaser pictures, read the blurb, and enter to win a signed paperback of Waiting for the One! Open internationally! Happy reading and good luck!
"Staying away from you was the hardest thing I've ever done. Every beat of my heart and every breath I breathe I do for you."
- Waiting for the One by L.A. Fiore Teasers
Click on pictures for full view  Saffron Mills has lived all of her almost thirty years in Harrington, Maine—a small town where fishing is plenty, but available men are far too few. Yet it’s not just her dating dry spell that draws her to recent arrival Logan MacGowan. Tall, dark, and handsome, with emerald-green eyes and an impossibly hot body, Logan is a gorgeous enigma whose silence she takes for indifference…until one unforgettable chance meeting, when pent-up attraction ignites into the most intense encounter of her life.
In this quiet, quirky town, no one knows that Logan’s alter ego is famous sculptor and tabloid darling David Cambre. In New York, he had all the wrong kind of attention, but in Harrington, he’s found peace, privacy…and Saffron. She’s witty, forthright, and so much sexier and stronger than she knows. But how do you protect the love you’ve been waiting for when your own lifestyle could be destined to rip it apart?
Revised edition: Previously published as My One and Only, this edition of Waiting for the One includes editorial revisions.
 L.A. Fiore lives in Bucks County, Pennsylvania with her husband, two children, their dog, two kittens and Willow: their three-legged hamster. Her twin sister lives right down the street and being a seasoned zombie hunter, there is comfort knowing when the zombie apocalypse comes they'll be ready. Stalk L.A. Fiore: Facebook | Goodreads | Amazon | TRSOR
Giveaway: Win Signed Copy of
Waiting for the One (Open International)
Two of Hearts by Christina Lee is Now LIVE! Meet Dakota & Shane in this standalone second romance!
Read an excerpt & enter to win a $25 Gift Card & book swag!
Excerpt She closed her eyes on a sharp breath, looking soft and vulnerable.
Because I couldn’t help myself, my fingers left her chair and glided up her arms to her neck. Her breaths released from her lips in short pants and I considered touching my mouth to hers.
Would she let me? Would she want me to?
“Yes,” she whispered, the heat of her breaths warming the tiny sliver of air still lingering between us. “But that’s in the past. We had our chance and I . . . I got over you. So let’s leave it there.”
My stomach completely flipped over. “You got over me?”
I studied her lips edge to edge, and they trembled in response. She was so not over me.
I didn’t know what the hell was driving me. I just knew I didn’t like hearing those words. Not one damn bit.
“You got over me?” I growled as my fingers gripped the nape of her neck.
My lips brushed the line of her jaw and she shivered.
“Shane, don’t. Please,” she mumbled, her hands at my chest. “You’ll just leave again and I can’t . . . I can’t . . .”
She sounded so helpless and sad. For the first time she was allowing me to see exactly what she might have been feeling, might’ve gone through five years ago. She sounded wrecked—as wrecked as I had been.
My lips trailed to her ear. “Angel.”  A gripping standalone adult contemporary romance about finding yourself while taking a second chance at your first love...
Dakota Nakos was always the resilient, strong-willed achiever. But when her father dies and she's entrusted with the family's casino, she feels vulnerable, scared, and more than a little emotional --not exactly the best time to see an old lover she's never really gotten over.
Dakota once meant the world to Shane Garrity. Then suddenly he left town to train as a U.S. Marshal, and their love for each other crashed into a memory. Now he's come home for her father's funeral, and one look at the girl he left behind stirs up both memories and regrets, and reignites a fire he feared he'd lost forever.
Dakota may be the same driven girl she always was, but she's also changed in ways neither could have anticipated. She's not just a young woman searching for own identity in the Native American community in which she was raised, but one questioning her new life outside her father's shadow. Above all she wonders if Shane can push past her weakened defenses to rekindle what they once had, or whether the intense blaze between them will ultimately reduce her heart to ashes.
Additional Teasers
(click on picture for full view)  Mother, wife, reader, dreamer. Christina lives in the Midwest with her husband and son--her two favorite guys.
She's addicted to lip gloss and salted caramel everything. She believes in true love and kissing, so writing romance novels has become a dream job.
Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
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