That was all it was, right? A fresh line? God, she couldn’t think with his thigh pressed against hers.
“One room?” she asked, and hated the shakiness of her voice.
“That’s all they got. Take it or leave it.”
“Do you come with it?”
He smiled into her eyes, amusement and arousal a breathtaking blend. “Is there a problem?”
“I don’t—”
Before she could answer, the bartender set an unordered bottle of beer in front of Gabe and he glanced up questioningly. The bartender pointed to a table of local men who waved when Gabe looked their way. He saluted them with his bottle and took a long drink. Peyton was so close to him she could feel him swallow.
“Dance?”
The twang of music had changed to something softer, slower, sexier. On the dance floor, couples shifted closer together. Her body hummed at the thought of being up against all that maleness. It had been so long.
Time to step into the fire.
The minute he folded his hand around hers, she could imagine the rough skin of his palms on her body. She wanted him to smooth away the goose bumps his touch raised.
What the hell was she doing? She knew where this would lead.
He eased them through the crowd to the dance floor and turned her to him with just a shift of his hand on hers. She faced him for a beat before putting her hand on his shoulder, willing it not to wander, and he put his hand on her waistband, under the hem of the sweatshirt, and slid a finger through an empty belt loop to anchor her. The possessiveness of the move sent a shiver of longing through her, and she struggled to mask it.
The pounding of her heart, the rhythm of his breathing drowned out the music. She wanted to look into his eyes, but was afraid what he would see in hers, so she lowered her gaze to the column of his throat, below her eye level. His thumb rested on the edge of her waistband, and if she bent to the right, just a little, his fingers hooked through her belt loop would be against her bare skin. Her entire consciousness focused on the imagined pleasure.
She bent, and his breath caught as he encountered flesh. The scrape of his finger over her sensitive skin sent heat spiraling downward, making her muscles weak. But she wasn’t ready to lean into him.
“What kind of name is Peyton, anyway?” His voice was a growl vibrating in his chest. She should have known better than to toy with an alpha.
She glanced up to see him watching her, his eyes crinkled in amusement, completely at odds with her thoughts. Damn, that was sexy. “A family name.”
“What, like a last name?”
His words brushed warm over her skin as he turned her to avoid another couple. “Mm, my mother’s.”
His eyes were still crinkled, but they’d twisted more toward shrewd than good-humored. He’d figured it out; they all did as soon as she explained. Only wealthy families had the audacity for that pretentiousness. Poor little rich girl.
What did she care what he thought? She wasn’t sticking around. She never did. And that made it easier when he released her hand to press his against the small of her back, brought her against his body, which made it easier to tilt her face up to see his descending. Made it easier to part her lips in anticipation as her nerves skittered from where he touched her to where she wanted him to touch her. So close, she could already feel his kiss.
She expected to feel guilty for wanting this man, but the guilt didn’t come. Maybe she’d been alone too long, maybe her connection with Gabe was stronger than she credited. Maybe her anger with Dan for dying had killed her love for him. Sleeping with Gabe Cooper wouldn’t be a betrayal of her husband, but it might be a betrayal of herself and all she wanted.
“What’s happening here?” she asked breathily.
A teasing smile curved his lips. “You know, the whole life-in-peril thing, adrenaline transfers to arousal. Danger is a big turn-on. You said so yourself.”
Her breath hitched and she tried very hard not to focus on his mouth, or how it felt against hers as he leaned closer.
She swallowed, hoping it would make her voice stronger. “They say danger, or escaping danger, is like a sexual rush. Is that why you do what you do?”
He brushed his cheek against hers, the stubble an erotic caress on her suddenly sensitive skin. Peyton struggled to keep her eyes open and her knees locked.
“I don’t have to almost die to get turned on.”
Love is the last line of defense.
Still Mine
© 2008 Mary Wine
Jolene Benate has spent six years keeping a vow to herself to never again be that weak woman weeping at her young husband’s graveside. Now she’s a deputy marshal on the elite warrant squad, as physically and mentally tough as they come. But moving on isn’t as easy as it looks.
Especially when the husband she thought was dead suddenly reappears. And, even in the face of his betrayal, she still wants him.
Paul Benate’s gifted mind was groomed from a young age to serve the military and its top-secret projects. His one youthful act of rebellion was to marry Jolene, only to discover a terrorist could use her to force him to give up his classified secrets. For her own safety, he had to let her go.
But the safety he thought was assured by his “death” was only an illusion. Secrets have a way of surfacing, and once again Jolene is the perfect target. There’s only one thing left to do…reclaim the woman that he has always loved.
Even if she’s mad as hell at him.
Warning: Hot and flammable. Sometimes they just don’t make it to the bedroom.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Still Mine:
In the dark it was impossible to tell what he tossed at her. Catching it by instinct, Jo held it for a moment, trying to decide what it was. She was grateful for the warmth the garment would provide, but less than pleased with the delivery person.
Six years ago she would have walked through fire just to hear his voice one more time.
“Yeah, well, thanks.” She shrugged into the coat and started walking.
“Where are you going?”
His demand broke through the shock attempting to numb her brain. But it wasn’t happening fast enough; she still felt too much. It was move or attack the cause of her problem. Halting her step, Jo turned to face the root of her pain.
“I. Don’t. Know!” Each word was slowly spat out with the venom that was winding its way along her spine. “I don’t know where I am and I don’t have a clue as to how long this fence is. But I just might have the answer to that question tonight.”
She stopped and turned so quickly that Paul had to pull himself up short or collide with her body. Standing this close, he could clearly see the flames that burned in her eyes. Eyes that held a place in his memory of the only woman he’d ever risked his work for. Her scent drifted on the wind and he pulled it into his lungs. Recognition flared in a forgotten corner of his brain, that place he’d shoved every memory of her into, bolting the door shut to avoid being yanked away from his work again.
Control was something he defined himself by. Jonnie destroyed it with one soft kiss. Ripping away every layer of protection he owned, leaving him exposed. There wasn’t a man alive he feared.
Jonnie terrified him.
But the woman in front of him fascinated him too. Curiosity was still the most deadly of sins because he couldn’t resist investigating the woman his child bride had transformed into. He also didn’t get surprised often and the rush of excitement was overpowering his better judgment. He wanted to know, needed to discover just who she’d become.
“Get lost. I don’t need your company.”
The tilt of her chin as well as the solid stance of her body declared her to be far more than the girl he’d taken to his bed years ago. This was a mature female. Capable and armed with the knowledge of her own strength. Admiration formed and spread up his back in response to her denial of his authority. His cock twitched with more than common lust. Need flared up from the coals of their marriage. It wasn’t
nearly as dead as he’d convinced himself it had to be. Heat moved through his blood as his gaze swept her frame.
“Really, Paul, I don’t need your company. I’m quite used to doing without it.”
He didn’t look like he was in the mood to listen. Jo watched as one cheek flinched. His face was familiar yet the hard features were somehow oddly primitive now. Paul had never been so…hardened. Those black eyes sharpened into solid steel as he reached some sort of decision.
“You’ve grown up, Jonnie.”
He sounded surprised and impressed. Jolene felt her pride rear its head. “If I was too immature for you, why did you marry me? You couldn’t have been that hard up for sex.”
His lips curled back from his teeth in response. His gaze very precisely dropped down her body in a slow inspection that made her gasp. Oh God, her memories didn’t do justice to just how intensely sexual her husband could be. Somewhere along the way, the dreams of him had taken on a controlled feeling that was anything but true. He had always been in command of her, his body driving her past any control or ability to think. He’d possessed her. The hard edge radiated stronger from him now than she could recall it being in the past.
Heat filled her checks as she watched him stare at the mounds of her breasts. The things he could do with a woman’s breasts were amazing. But that little tingle of attraction beneath the jacket only made her madder. She’d been forced to forget because he’d discarded her. Hell, he hadn’t even left her hope they might reconcile.
“There wasn’t any other way to have you. You wouldn’t yield without that wedding, and I wanted you.” One corner of his cheek twitched as his gaze roamed over her body once again. Heat tingled all the way down her spine as she watched his gaze linger on her hips. Her memory was cruel because her clit softly throbbed as she recalled exactly how good it felt to be had by him. Dreams were nothing compared to the reality. Knowing that just made everything worse. It was the absolute in forbidden fruit. Within reach but deadly if she gave in to temptation. Just looking at him doubled her hunger.
“Absolutely perfect. You married me for sex. Wonderful, and here I’ve been thinking that we were in love. How silly of me.” Propping her hands on her hips, she shook her head, screaming at the surge of sexual impulses trying to flood her brain with hormones designed to defeat her. “You have one hell of a nerve, you know that? You got one thing right, my virginity was worth fifteen minutes in front of a priest.”
Hurt speared through her as she recognized the hard truth that you had to value someone before you cared if you deceived them or not.
But her body wasn’t listening to the anger coursing through her. He still drew her attention like freshly baked bread did a starving person. There was no logic to it, only the clamoring of every inch of her body for her protests to die a swift death in favor of letting her explore the gift of having her husband back in the flesh. She wanted to step through the mirror into her dream world and let him fold her into his embrace. She shuddered with the sheer abundance of emotion.
“You mean your love was worth that visit to the church. You were the only person who ever loved me. That was worth a wedding.”
Her love. As in one sided.
His gaze fused with hers, his mouth pressed into a hard line. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
Will her need to do the right thing cost them everything?
Anything But Mine
© 2008 Linda Winfree
Book Four of the Hearts of the South series.
Public Defender Autry Holton, honor-bound to defend an accused serial killer, is in a “shunned if she does, disbarred if she doesn’t” position. To complicate matters, she’s pregnant and hasn’t yet told her ex-lover he’s the father. The reason? She’s pretty sure he won’t want the baby.
After raising one family and suffering a failed marriage, Sheriff Stanton Reed never believed he was the right man for Autry. Then an attempted breakin at Autry’s home highlights the real danger she faces, and all he can think of is protecting her. When she tells him the truth about their baby, the past doesn’t matter. He wants both her and their child in his life.
But just as Autry dares to hope there’s a future for them, an act of homegrown terrorism shatters her trust—and threatens their lives.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Anything But Mine:
This had to stop.
Autry put her lotion away and wrapped a towel around her body. Irritation and unfulfilled desire had her nerves jumping and the worst part was she had herself to blame even more than Stanton. Sure, he was clueless about other people’s emotions, let alone his own. She’d known that going in. Now suddenly, she wanted him to change into Mr. Perfectly-in-touch-with-his-feelings? So being pregnant had made her emotional and now completely irrational. Instead of sitting around whining about how blind he was, maybe she needed to show him where to go.
He’d asked for more time. That had to mean something.
They were having a baby together. She wanted to forge a relationship with him. He said the same thing.
What was she accomplishing by holding him away?
Sleeping in the spare room wasn’t getting her any closer to him, wasn’t in any way binding him to her.
So what are you going to do?
Taking a deep breath, she knotted the towel at her breasts. Before her spurt of courage and resolution could desert her, she marched into the bedroom and gathered her things. Her hands full, she slipped down the hall to Stanton’s bedroom. The door stood slightly ajar and the fresh smell of his soap hung in the air.
Her stomach turning slow rolls, she nudged the door open with her knee. The bedside lamp shed soft light in the room. Stanton lay on the bed, arms under his head, clad only in his khaki slacks. At her entrance, he glanced her way, his eyes dark and shuttered.
Her simmering level of irritation, with him and herself, flashed into anger. She tossed her overnight bag on the floor. “Just tell me one thing. What the hell is your problem?”
Surprise flared on his face and he levered up to lean on his elbows. “Which problem are we talking about?”
“What do you really want? Is this all about the baby and your so-called duty? Or do you want me at all?”
He moved to a sitting position, throwing his legs over the side of the bed. He kept his gaze trained on hers. “Of course I want you.”
She clutched the knot between her breasts. “If there were no baby, would we be together?”
He opened his mouth, closed it, swallowed hard enough his Adam’s apple bobbed. “I don’t know.”
Irrationally hurt, she laughed. “What am I saying? The only reason we’re together now is because I got pregnant.”
“Autry…”
“It doesn’t really matter how much time I give you.” How could this hurt so much? “Nothing changes the fact that you didn’t really want me.”
His head jerked up. “That’s not true.”
“You dumped me. If that doesn’t say ‘I don’t want you’, I don’t know what does.” Why was she doing this? Hell, why was she even here? What she should do was march back to her room, get dressed and demand he take her to her parents’ house.
Shaking her head, she spun and stalked to the door.
“I was afraid, all right?” The words emerged in a near-hiss, as though he pushed them out between clenched teeth. “What I felt for you scared the hell out of me, and I got as far away as fast as I could. Happy now?”
“Afraid.” She couldn’t quite catch her breath, couldn’t quite believe what he was saying. Holding her breath, she turned.
“Yeah.” He ran both hands through his hair, leaving the short brown strands disheveled.
“Why?” she whispered, still clutching at her towel.
He shook his head. “I’d already failed with Renee, hell, to the point she had an affair. I was scared of screwing everything up with you too, and it just seemed easier to get out, let you find somebody who could be what you needed.”
Re
nee had cheated on him? He’d never revealed that before, and as badly as she wanted to explore that, see how it related to their relationship, she needed more to make him understand what was most important.
She took a step forward. “I needed you.”
“Oh, yeah, I’m a real prize. An emotionally unavailable ass, as Renee says.”
Unavailable? She wouldn’t say that. Reserved, yes, until she’d managed to get under the layers of professionalism and seriousness. Then she’d glimpsed the real man underneath—honest, compassionate, intuitive, blessed with a wry sense of humor.
She took another step toward him. “I think I’d say more confused than unavailable. Whenever I’ve needed you, you’ve always been there.”
“Autry, you don’t get it.” The words were rough, torn from him. “If I failed again and lost you…”
She closed her eyes, his words thrumming through her. He did care; there was hope. She simply had to reach out and take it, show him the way. They could have so much more than she’d dared dream. If only one of them took the first step.
Opening her eyes, she caught his ravenous gaze. Those eyes whispered of starvation, of a wanting that went far beyond the physical.
She reached for the knot and let the towel fall to the floor.
Cool air rushed over her bare skin. She stood before Stanton’s hungry eyes, nervous, exposed, titillated. He gripped his knees, staring at her.
Resisting the urge to cover herself, she stepped closer. “You can’t lose me, Stanton. I’m yours.” She reached for his hand, splaying his fingers across her naked abdomen. “We both are.”
With a muffled groan, he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face against her. “God help me, Autry, I’ve been lost without you.”
His mouth caressed the skin above her navel. Strong fingers stroked her back. The titillation slid into full-blown desire, painful pleasure pricking low in her belly. The ache spread lower, unfurling between her thighs.
He pressed open-mouthed kisses down her stomach and she buried her hands in his hair. The contrast of his skin against hers, the strength of his arms about her, weakened her knees. She could fall, though, and be assured he’d catch her. With his size—tall and broad and just big all over—he made her feel dainty, feminine, ultimately desirable.
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