Rebecca's Forgotten Journals + Bonuses and Extras Collection

by Lisa Renee Jones

  She moaned softly as his tongue traced the top of the lace hose and she slipped further back against the sofa. “Royce, I…” His fingers slid over the damp black silk of her panties. She moaned again. “Oh.”

  He slipped his finger beneath the fabric, the sweet sound of her pleasure spurring a hunger in him for more. He caressed the sensitive, swollen flesh, and explored the slick proof of her arousal. She moaned again and dug her fingers into the cushion, trying to sit up.

  “Royce…”

  He moved to frame her body with his, his elbows hitting the cushion, his mouth above hers. “I’m going to take you to bed Lauren, but not for the reasons I want to. I’m going to take you to bed and put you to sleep.”

  “What?” she gasped against his lips. “No. I don’t want… I—”

  He smothered her protest with his mouth, kissing her, deeply, passionately, then promising, “I’m going to put you to bed right after I make you come,” he assured her, scooting down her body, his palms caressing her breasts, making her pant. He settled in front of her now closed knees, his fingers finding the lace of her panties under her dress. “You do want to come, don’t you?”

  “Has any woman ever told you ‘no’ when you asked them that question?”

  He kissed her stomach. “You’re the only woman I’m worried about.” He used his hands to urge her backside to lift, pleased when she complied. Royce rolled the material down her hips, over her long, sexy legs, tossing the panties aside. He skimmed her calves, returned to her knees, which he found held real appeal for him. “You’re beautiful,” he said, heat roaring through his veins as he urged her knees apart. “Open for me again, Lauren.”

  Her lashes lowered and lifted. “I’m…” she let out a breath, “I’m nervous.”

  Nervous. His chest tightened with the honesty of her admission, at her continued trust in him; he wanted to be worthy of deserving it. Even more so, at the underlining inference that someone had given her a reason to feel embarrassed. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like it at all. Protectiveness flared inside him and he moved to her, sliding his hand to her face and kissing her. “You have no reason to be nervous with me. Not now, not ever.”

  “Says you,” she whispered.

  “Yes,” he agreed. “Says me and I hope says you too very soon.” He nibbled her lip and then, before she could feel anything but pleased, eased one of her legs over his shoulder and settled into the intimate V of her body.

  Royce felt her stiffen, heard her gasp as he ran his tongue over her swollen nub and then drew it between his lips, suckling her gently. His fingers stroked her slick, wet folds, teasing and pleasing, until he slipped one, then another inside her until she was squirming against him, rocking with the movement of his hand and his mouth. Until she cried out and he felt the muscles of her body clench around him, felt his cock throb with the burn to be inside her. Until he licked and soothed her to a soft sigh and her muscles relaxed.

  When she finally stilled completely, he kissed her stomach, only to find her covering her face with her hand. She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. He eased her back to look at him.

  She was embarrassed. Nervous and now embarrassed. He hoped he met the guy that had messed with her confidence one day. Oh yeah, he did. “You have no idea how sexy you are, do you?” he asked, nuzzling her neck, his hand stroking up her back.

  “Royce,” she whispered, refusing to look at him, and he wasn’t going to force her, wasn’t going to push her. But he knew now, more than ever, that had he given her no reason to believe he wanted her, she would have pushed him away. She would have built a wall he would have never been able to climb.

  Royce scooped her up and carried her toward the only bedroom he’d seen when inspecting the house. The room was dark, but Royce ignored the switch, his eyes adjusting quickly. She needed the shelter of the shadows, and he wasn’t going to take that from her. Not now, not this evening.

  A fluffy white down comforter sat on top of the mattress and Royce settled them both down on top of it. When she tried to curl into him, to press her body to his, he ran his hand over her hair, kissed her, and then gently turned her back to his front. “Sleep, Lauren,” he murmured.

  She tried to turn, looking at him over her shoulder. “But—”

  He kissed her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

  She seemed to consider arguing, but slowly turned back into his arms, softening into the crook of his body, the tension sliding away from her. “You aren’t what I expected, Royce Walker,” she whispered and almost instantly her breathing settled into a slow, steady rhythm, which told him just how influenced by the alcohol she’d really been.

  He nuzzled her cheek, drew in the scent of her, and knew he was in big trouble. He didn’t snuggle, he didn’t linger with women, and he damn sure didn’t get personally involved. Not for years, not since a youthful near marriage that had been so wrong, in so many ways. He’d wanted a career in the FBI. She’d wanted him home, focused on her. The breakup had been bad, and truth be told, she’d been right. He’d been more dedicated to the agency than to her. His duty to his country, to the agency, had left no room for a woman, not one he called his own. But he wasn’t in the agency anymore, and at thirty-four years old, he was no longer a young college kid who hadn’t lived and learned. And Lauren affected him like no other woman ever had. And he saw no way around her hating him in the morning.

  “You aren’t what I expected either, Lauren Reynolds,” he whispered.

  ***

  Check out the Tall, Dark & Deadly series:

  https://talldarkdeadly.weebly.com/

  PART SIX

  The Walker Security Series

  Introduction, Reading Order and Sexy Scene

  Series Introduction

  Lethal, alpha and ready… A standalone spinoff series from the Tall, Dark and Deadly series. The men of Walker Security are back and deadlier than ever. Vicious enemies, dangerous passions, explosive stories…all lead to the men of Walker Security finding and protecting their women.

  About DEEP UNDER (BOOK ONE)

  Kyle, one of the alpha men of Walker Security, is hot, bothered, and intense, and when Myla lands in his line of fire, she’ll soon learn her secrets, and her passion, belong to him, from New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones.

  Myla is beautiful, a dove with clipped wings, captive by the wolf, a vicious and powerful man. One look into her eyes and Kyle could see the pain, the fear…the desperation. Or so it seems. He’s been fooled before by a woman and it cost him everything and everyone he loved. He won’t be fooled again.

  ABOUT PULLED UNDER (BOOK TWO)

  He is blond, tattooed, and dangerous. She’s as beautiful as she is mysterious and could be his destruction…

  Asher wasn’t always a member of the elite Walker Security team, he was a billionaire’s son, who rebelled against his father’s controlling hand, and ended up in New York City’s underground of drugs, rock n roll, and danger. But that is long behind him, and while his tattoos and long blond hair remain, he’s now a chameleon, far more comfortable in a suit and tie than a leather jacket.

  Or so he likes to tell himself.

  But now Walker Security needs him back inside the underground club scene for a police case they’re working. Women are dying, murdered, and the clock is ticking until another victim is claimed. When Asher is pulled back into this toxic world he meets Sierra, who is as beautiful as she is mysterious. A woman who calls to a darker side of him, long suppressed, unleashing it in what becomes wicked hot passion and obsession. But Sierra has a secret, one that leads her, and Asher, to a dangerous place, and game, with dangerous players, and the game is about life or death.

  ABOUT FALLING UNDER (BOOK THREE)

  Ex-special forces, Jacob King, is a man who keeps to himself, having learned the hard way that letting people close to you, trusting them, might just get you killed. A lesson he learned when members of his Special Ops
team turned dirty, while others, men he considered friends, died. He made them pay. He made them hurt. He put them in jail. And so he doesn’t trust anyone anymore. He keeps his women hot and fast, his friends few to none, and his clients through the elite Walker Security at a professional distance, but safe.

  It works for him. Until it doesn’t.

  His newest job should be simple and cut and dry. Jewel Carpenter, the daughter of the CEO of Carpenter Enterprises, is receiving death threats. He’s to protect her and find out who is issuing the threats.

  Simple. Cut and Dry.

  Until it’s not.

  Until the chemistry between he and Jewel is all about love, hate, and sex. But even as he fights the attraction to Jewel and discovers there is more to her than meets the eye, the real threat comes not from the threats she’s receiving, but the connection she has to him. Because his past has come full circle, and those men he’s made pay for their sins now want him to pay. And what better way than the woman in his bed?

  WALKER SECURITY SERIES Reading Order

  Deep Under (Kyle and Myla’s story)

  Pulled Under (Asher and Sierra’s story)

  Falling Under (Jacob and Jewel’s story)

  Each book in the series is a standalone title about one couple.

  Check out the Walker Security series:

  https://walkersecurity.weebly.com/

  Sexy excerpt from Deep Under (book one)

  Kyle kisses me like he’s savoring me, with slow, sexy strokes of his tongue, a taut need in him that says I’m his next breath he cannot live without. I feel like he is mine. I feel like I need him, like he is what I’ve needed for a very long time.

  My fingers flex where they have splayed over his chest, and I lean into the long lines of his hard body, losing myself in the moment, in this man who has taken me by storm, and seems to be everything I need and want. He moans, a low, sexy sound I feel in my sex, in my nipples, just as I feel his hands cup my backside, melding our bodies together, our hips, his thick erection now pressing against my belly. Heat radiates through my body, a deep ache forming in my sex.

  He tears his mouth from mine, staring down at me. “God, woman. What are you doing to me?” I can’t think to even answer. He’s already on one knee in front of me, inching down the band to my leggings, exposing my belly where he plants a kiss. And that simple press of lips to skin, so nearly innocent, is somehow intensely erotic, and yes, tender. He is so very tender with me, and that stark contrast to what I know, and even who he is with those around him, is so incredibly sexy.

  “Kyle,” I whisper, not even sure why.

  He glances up at me, orange fire in his green eyes. “I’m here and I’m not going anywhere, Myla. You need to know that.”

  “Why?” I ask, and it’s a simple question, a one word question, but it has so many layers, so many complicated layers.

  “Why? Because I’m addicted to you, Myla. Crazy, insane, addicted to you, I want you to be just as addicted to me.”

  He wants me to be addicted to him, which is all about my desire, my need, my choices and not his, though he’s made it clear that he wants me in a way that manages to be both alpha and sensitive, at the same time. He can’t know how much that combination works for me, matters to me, but I won’t tell him. I really can’t. Not when he’s inched my pants a tiny bit further down, just above the V of my body, and his lips and tongue are traveling that line – left, right, center – and all I can think of is, where will that delicious mouth of his go next? A shiver rolls through me, my sex achy, and oh so very wet.

  “I want to be your addiction, Myla,” he repeats, inching to my side, his teeth scraping my hip. “I want you to think about what I’ll do to you next at times when I’m not doing it.” His tongue flickers against the tiny spot of his gentle bite, his hand flattening over my belly, to slide under my pants and push them further down, his palm resting over my sex without touching it. And the other hand now on my bare backside, almost as if he’s about to spank me. A thought that should terrify me, considering some of the torture I’ve been put through, but I’m aroused. So incredibly aroused.

  But he doesn’t spank me. He caresses, he squeezes, he caresses again and then he says, “You have a gorgeous ass, Myla,” in this sandpaper rough voice, I feel everywhere, inside and out.

  I laugh, or whatever that sound is that slips from my lips. I don’t know what it is, or why it comes from my lips. Then I actually try to speak. “Kyle I—”

  He cups my sex, fingers teasing the now sensitive, slick heat of my arousal. “I fucking love how wet you are for me.” He moves then, in front of me again, his hands caressing my pants all the way to the floor before he lifts me and gets rid of them.

  “Turn and face the wall for me again, sweetheart,” he orders softly, and only then do I realize that I’m holding his shoulders, leaning into him, not away from him, a detail that would seem normal to most. But to me, it’s a stunning sign of instinctual trust, especially when I thought I would never trust a man with my body again.

  And that scares me. It makes me fear in that moment that I am wrong about him, and right to be guarded. Thus I do not turn. I ask, “Is this the vulnerable part? Your control, not mine?”

  I expect some intense, manly demand, but his lips curve in a sexy, almost playful, smile. “Sweetheart,” he says. “This is the “I want to see your amazing fucking ass” thing. And kiss it. And touch it. And there might be teeth. Now, if that’s a problem—”

  I surprise myself and laugh for real this time, which is really quite stunning to me on all levels. “I have no idea how you just made me laugh.”

  “It’s a gift,” he says. “Right along with picking the perfect pizza, though I have yet to prove that as true.”

  “It is a gift, actually,” I say, “because I don’t…I haven’t laughed ever during a moment like this.”

  “There are many first times ahead of us, Myla,” he promises. “Turn around, sweetheart.”

  There is this silky tenderness to his voice that tightens my nipples and my sex, but also my chest. Emotions well up inside me, I don’t quite know or understand, and suddenly, giving him my back works for me. I inhale and do as he says, but instead of him just leaving me naked and uncomfortably facing the other way, he is suddenly on his feet, his big body once again enveloping mine, hard and powerful, his hands finding mine and pressing them to the wall. His alluringly spicy scent consuming me, seducing me. “I want you to keep your hands on the wall for me,” he instructs. “Don’t touch me. Let me touch you.”

  “I want to touch you,” I confess. “Very badly.”

  “And I want you to,” he says, “but right now, this is about you, not me.” His fingers flex at my hips, then caress down and over my backside, his mouth finding my shoulder at the same moment he cups my cheeks. Those teeth he’d promised to use, nipping the very edge of my back, and then trailing down my right arm. He shifts then, moving to stand at my hip, one hand possessively at my belly, the other on one of my butt cheeks. “I love how you smell,” he says, his breath a warm trickle on my cheek. “Like honey and sugar.”

  “Amber,” I whisper, of the one thing from my past life I’d managed to keep. “It reminds me of the past.”

  “It makes me want to lick you everywhere,” he murmurs, his voice taking on that gravelly quality again. “Can I lick you everywhere?”

  “Only if I can lick you everywhere,” I say, loving that I feel free enough to say that to him, and more so, that I mean it. I want to lick every last inch of this man.

  He leans in, bringing his mouth a breath from mine. “I can’t wait,” he says, sealing that promise with a deep, sultry slide of his tongue that has us both groaning when he pulls back, his forehead at the side of my head. “Did I mention you’re addictive?” he asks, his fingers just barely teasing one of my nipples, his other hand squeezing my backside again. “So fucking addictive.” He plucks the nipple, sending darts of pleasure straight to m
y sex.

  I arch slightly forward, panting as he continues the assault on my senses, tightening his grip on that stiff peak and tugging before gently caressing it again. This soft, hard, gentle, rough thing he does is driving me wild and my hands move further up the wall, allowing me to brace myself. He, in turn, moves further down my body, one of his hands finding my belly and then lower. And lower. His fingers slide back into the V of my sex, just barely flicking my clit before finding the wet seam between my legs, and stroking. My lashes lower, his touch grounding me in the moment, in pleasure. His fingers slide inside me, and at some point he has gone to his knees, his mouth, his teeth, at my hip. Still, those fingers dip deeper, the waves of tingling sensations managing to reach from my sex to my nipples and back down again.

  And then he is gone, no longer touching me, leaving me gasping and weak in the knees. I want to turn, to call him back, but I never get the chance. He’s already in front of me, his back against the wall I’ve been holding, and I have no idea how or when, but he’s naked, the thick ridge of his erection at my hips, my hands now on his broad shoulders.

  “No more barriers between us,” he declares softly, cupping my face and tilting my mouth to his. “And now, I need to taste you.” He kisses me, a deep, hungry kiss, before picking me up, my legs wrapping his hips as he adds, “All of you,”

  ***

  Check out the Walker Security series:

  https://walkersecurity.weebly.com/

  PART SEVEN

  The White Lies Duet

  Introduction, Reading Order and Sexy Scene

  Series Introduction

  There are those moments in life that are provocative in their very existences, that embed in our minds forever, and sometimes our very souls. They change us, mold us, maybe even save us. But some are darker, dangerous. If we allow them to, they control us. Seduce us. Quite possibly even destroy us.