by Vivi Anna, Sylvia Day, Delilah Devlin, Cathryn Fox, Myla Jackson, Lisa Renee Jones
She held him with her legs a moment longer, and then let him go. Despite the balmy air inside the cave, her skin dimpled at the loss of his heat.
He rose to his feet and grabbed the sheath of spears.
Kili’s breath caught on a moan. Standing near the mouth of the cave, red gold firelight flickering over his sweat-slick skin, his cock still erect and glistening from her juices—she knew she’d carry that picture with her for the rest of her life.
And then he was gone—and she was sucked back into the black dream-void, a low whooshing sound filling her ears.
Kili waited, feeling numb as the tech removed the electrodes from her chest and then slipped the helmet from her head. She accepted his hand to help her out of her seat and tugged at the bottom of her skirt.
Willa came bouncing from around the corner of a booth. “Well? How’d you like it?”
Kili gave her a thumbs up, although inside she felt like howling. “I think that did the trick.”
When the management team filed into the conference room, Kili steeled herself—and fought the urge to tug once more on the bottom of her skirt to make sure everything was covered. Her undies were tucked safely into her purse, and she hoped like hell she didn’t drop anything she’d have to bend down to retrieve.
Wilson nodded and proceeded to direct the men to the sideboard where drinks and snacks awaited. Kili stood beside the projection screen, ready to run through her prepared spiel.
Then Ice Man entered the room.
She thought she had herself back under control, but one look at his silvery blond hair and bluer-than-blue eyes and she forgot how to breathe again.
She forced her gaze away and gripped the papers in her hand hard, deciding then and there she wouldn’t look at him once during the presentation.
Her heart was too vulnerable, her emotions too raw. She’d had the adventure of a lifetime during a thirty-minute lunch break—and nothing would ever be the same.
She’d found—if not love—connection. Something she’d never known with a man before. But her lover didn’t exist.
Now that she knew how that “connection” felt, she wanted to find it again—with someone. But at the moment, it hurt too much to look at the man whose face would forever be etched on her heart.
“Ahem, Kili,” Wilson’s voice broke through her thoughts, bringing her back to the purpose for the meeting. The management team had all taken their seats and waited with pencils poised above pristine white pads of paper.
She gave him a nod and cleared her throat before sweeping her gaze over the men assembled to hear how she was going to increase the number of female viewers who tuned in to watch the Centurion Gladiators’ matches.
But her gaze snagged on Ice Man who remained standing beside the snack table, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze boring into hers—wearing the exact same expression as her “Gunn.”
Swallowing, she tried to remember what she’d scripted for herself to say, but mortification settled around her like a heavy blanket of embarrassment when she couldn’t remember a word she’d rehearsed.
She dropped her gaze to her papers, realizing she couldn’t go with the pitch she’d prepared if she couldn’t remember it.
She drew a deep breath and decided to go with her gut. “Ever wondered what makes a woman hot? She’ll tell her girlfriend it’s an animal—a monosyllabic caveman in a loincloth—all bulging pecs, thick neck, and rippling abs. That man will certainly catch her eye—make her pause and stare. But how does he keep her interest?” She paused to swallow and wet her dry mouth.
“Is that a rhetorical question?” Ice Man’s deep voice came from the sideboard.
Finally, she was forced to meet his gaze. Her heart skipped a beat at the smoldering warmth she found there. “I am inviting…your answer,” she said carefully, pushing the words past stiffened lips.
“Gunnar Thorsson is the team’s elected rep,” her boss added. “He’s got final approval on the spot. He has a dead-on instinct for what people want.”
Gunnar? Her eyes opened wide.
His gaze didn’t waver. “A woman likes the danger and strength the warrior embodies, but she really wants more than a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’—or a primal grunt. She wants the warrior to unstop a clogged sink, or teach a child to play ball…and to tell her roughly, but eloquently, how beautiful she is to him.” The last seemed like a caress.
Christ, it couldn’t be him. Her Gunn. But he was giving her back her words…and more.
Had what happened in the cave been real, or at the very least, mutual? And who would she kill later—Willa or The Lunch Break staff for hooking them up? If it really was him, he’d remember every stupid thing she’d said.
Her throat tightened around a lump at the back of her throat. It couldn’t be true. She was just projecting her desires onto him.
Her eyes filled. She shook her head as she stared at him, hearing the murmured questions from the management team as she tried and failed to pull herself together.
Ice Man’s arms dropped to his sides and he stepped forward.
Alarm filled her. Christ, don’t let him get too close or I’ll fall apart!
But he opened his arms and enfolded her next to his rock-solid chest. His hands caressed her, soothing up and down her back.
She inhaled, dragging in his now familiar scent—not the wood smoke part, but the manly musky part. She clutched the front of his jersey and tried to make sense of her reactions and figure out a way to run from the room before she made an even bigger fool of herself.
His hand cupped the back of her head, tugging on her hair to tilt back her face. His gaze held hers for a long, intense moment, and she wished like hell she understood what it meant.
Then his lips slammed down on hers in a searing, mind-blowing kiss.
His lips ate hers, molding, sucking, drawing her back into a familiar firestorm of searing emotions and lust. Finally, his tongue thrust inside her mouth to stroke hers, and she was helpless to resist. She tangled her tongue with his and moaned.
Christ, the man could kiss!
“Oh, I see you already know Gunnar,” Wilson said from somewhere behind Ice Man, an edge of dismay in his voice. “He has an excellent track record, actually, for gauging what consumers want. Kili?”
She lifted her hand, one finger extended, telling him to wait just a second. Her heart pounded as she recognized the sound rumbling from the chest pressed to hers.
Ice Man drew back and settled his forehead against hers, his breath hitching every bit as raggedly as hers. “Sweetheart, it’s gonna be all right,” he rasped.
“But, I don’t understand,” she said. He kissed like Gunn, growled like Gunn…Her heart accepted him as Gunn.
Ice Man snorted and kissed the tip of her nose. Then he bent to whisper in her ear, “Ugh!”
DELILAH DEVLIN has lived in Saudi Arabia, Germany, and Ireland, but calls Texas home for now. Always a risk taker, she lived in the Saudi Peninsula during the Gulf War, thwarted an attempted abduction, and survived her children’s juvenile delinquency. Creating alter egos for herself in the pages of her books enables her to live new adventures—and chronicle a few of her own (you get to guess which!).
The Hottest One-Night Stand
Lisa Renee Jones
To Diego,
who believes in dreams coming true.
This story wouldn’t have been possible
without your support and influence in too many ways to detail.
Thank you.
One
He made her think of sex.
Hot, wet, blow your mind kind of sex. The kind she hadn’t had in far too long. Correction. Ever. She had never, ever had the kind of sex this man made her want.
Suddenly, the dingy little roadside bar she had stopped at because her cell phone had no signal seemed a darn good decision. It offered a damn delicious distraction from her long hours on the highway.
Standing at the bar, dressed in all black, dark hair touching his
broad shoulders, he looked like a wild, exotic form of Zorro. He was the kind of man that made women pant. Even her, conservative little Jessica Montgomery, was ready to jump his bones.
She leaned against the railing behind her, forgetting the irritation over the bartender ignoring her. Her eyes dropped to his truly stellar ass just as he turned and looked at her. There wasn’t time to avert her gaze, nor did she really see the point. They were in the middle of nowhere Texas, two strangers, likely to never see each other again.
She was checking out his ass and didn’t plan to hide it.
What she didn’t anticipate was the intensity of his gaze. Dark eyes assessed her, taking her in from head to toe. He inspected her with such completeness, she felt exposed on some carnal level. Yet, oddly, she was at ease with the feeling.
She couldn’t help but notice the contrast in their appearances. He was dark, where she was light. His hair was black, as were his eyes, and his skin was a perfect light chocolate brown. She was fair, with hair the blondest of blond, porcelain skin, and eyes the palest of blues. Something about their differences made her feel a little thrill inside. The thought of her fair skin contrasting against his dark, her blond hair draped against his black, was enticing.
She watched him watching her. Those eyes of his, those deep, dark eyes, only served to enhance his quintessential sex appeal.
For the briefest of moments, she had the oddest sensation of being touched. Goose bumps spread across Jessica’s skin, her nipples tingled and then hardened, and a light ache spread between her legs. Shocked at the utterly sexual response he evoked in her, Jessica found it difficult to catch her breath.
No man had ever aroused her so easily.
Perhaps, it was her lifestyle that made her respond so readily. After her divorce, she joined the district attorney’s office and had since been burning the candle at both ends, with little to no time for social affairs. Not that she was eager to jump into a relationship after her ex-husband’s nasty comments about her overall appeal. As hard as she tried to dismiss his harsh words, they had stuck with her. Especially the part about her being undersexed and outright boring in bed.
Funny, the wetness clinging to her panties didn’t make her feel undersexed. Quite the opposite. This stranger had her feeling quite ready to get naked and take him on in a little game of one on one.
She laughed and broke eye contact with him.
What in the hell was she thinking? She hadn’t had sex in eighteen months, and she was wet and wanting a man she didn’t even know. Was she insane?
Apparently, because her eyes moved back to her Zorro as if she was desperate for another glance. But it was too late. He had turned away and was paying the bartender, preparing to leave. Seconds later, his boots scraped the floor as he started toward the door.
She watched him saunter across the floor, his walk graceful but masculine at the same time. His hair fell down his back, not too long, not too short. It made her long to run her hands through it, to touch it and feel it draped across her body.
As he reached the door, she fought the desire to run after him. It was crazy, but she wanted this man in a powerful way. Willing herself to stay in her chair, Jessica took a deep breath. And that’s when he turned, fixing her in a hot stare. In his eyes, she saw the potency of a desire she had never experienced.
If only he wasn’t leaving. Inwardly, she laughed. Not that she would ever have a fling with a stranger. She bit her bottom lip. But if she ever did, she’d want him to look exactly like the man who just walked out the door.
The last two putters of the car engine dispelled any hope that her trip would be a good one. It was bad enough that she had let the sexiest man she’d ever seen slip through her fingers. Now, only a mile up the road, Jessica was stranded.
Of course, she had made it into some dingy motel parking lot. For that she should be thankful. Still, from the looks of the building, it was no great find.
Shoving open her door, she stepped out into the hot Texas night and stared at the blinking red sign. The wind whipped around her shoulders, dirt blowing at her feet. A storm was coming, and she had car trouble. Looked like she would be sleeping at a place with no name other than Motel.
“Great,” she muttered as she slammed her door shut and began a stomp toward the office door. She didn’t know a damn thing about cars. What kind of help was she going to get in a place like this?
Stepping into the tiny lobby that held only a dirty chair and a counter enclosed in glass, Jessica didn’t feel any more optimistic about staying here. She wouldn’t be sleeping much this night.
There wasn’t a person in sight as she stepped toward the counter. “Hello?”
No response.
Jessica looked around her, hugging her body with her arms. Deserted and a bit eerie was the only way to describe the feel of the room. She just wanted a warm bed and some sleep, dreadful as they might be. Tomorrow, with a broken-down car, she already knew she would be in hell.
For tonight, she just wanted someone normal to come to that glass window and give her a room. Then, she would snuggle under the blankets and dream of the sexy Zorro-looking man from the bar.
If only he were here, getting a room with her. To be alone and naked with that man would more than make up for the challenges of the night and tomorrow. She could practically feel his body next to hers. Hard muscles pressing against her body, his hand on her breast, kneading and teasing…
Jessica mentally shook herself. What in the heck was happening to her? She never fantasized about men. Yet, now, in the middle of a crisis, she could feel her panties, for the second time in one night, wet with wanting.
She needed a room and sleep. She knocked on the glass. “Hello?”
Just as Jessica opened her mouth to call out again, an old man with a cigar hanging out of his mouth shuffled, feet in slippers, through a side doorway.
“We’re full,” he said grumpily, his wild eyebrows making him look like some kind of spook.
Jessica felt a wave of panic. “But my car is broken down, and I can’t get anywhere else.”
The cigar stayed in his mouth moving up and down. “I don’t know what to tell you, lady. First come first serve around these parts. Should have been here ten minutes earlier. I had one room left.” He laughed. “Not no more though.”
Sleeping in her car didn’t sound like a good option. “How far to the next hotel?”
“Three miles.”
Three miles…she could walk three miles.
“It’s the land of nothing between here and there. Pure ghost town.”
She frowned at the man and shoved a strand of her long, blond hair from her face. “But you won’t give me a room?”
“Told you, lady,” he said and had the gall to have a hint of irritation in his voice. “Don’t got one to give.”
Mumbling not so nice words under her breath, Jessica turned toward the door. Talking with this rude man was getting her nowhere fast. Pushing open the exit door, she stepped outside and was instantly slammed with a gush of wind and rain. Droplets of liquid gathered in her hair and on her cheeks.
“Can this night get any worse?” she whispered into the darkness, feeling very alone and on edge.
As she moved toward her car, the wind seemed to pick up several notches, throwing wetness and dirt around her body.
All Jessica wanted to do was get to Brownsville in time for her nephew’s party. She had to be back in court in two days. If she didn’t get to her sister’s place soon, she’d have to shove her present at her nephew and turn around and leave.
By the time she yanked open her door, she was dripping wet. The wind blew so hard she could hardly get into her car. Panic was building as she slid inside. She sat in her seat, darkness surrounding her, and for the first time since the night she found her husband with another woman, tears began to fall.
The turbulence that erupted took her by surprise. So long suppressed, her emotions seemed to simply invite themselves to explode. Her hands
clenched onto the steering wheel, and she rested her forehead on her knuckles. For long moments, she could do nothing but let the tears fall, trying to understand what she was feeling.
This wasn’t like her. She didn’t cry. Getting to her family had just felt so important. She’d been working night and day at the DA’s office, trying to forget the past, and focus on career. But now…she needed more. Seeing that sexy man in the bar had jolted her a bit, reminding her that she had to stop hiding from her personal life. She needed one. Fear over the past was holding her back from exploring any new relationship and she knew it.
Thunder rumbled around her as rain fell hard against the windows. She sat in the middle of it all and had her own storm. Swiping at her cheeks, she reprimanded herself. Tears were not going to solve her issue of being stranded. She needed to think through her options.
Jessica was pondering her thoughts when a loud knocking made her scream. There was a man at her window. Her hand went to her chest, shocked at the presence. But more so because it was a familiar face. “Oh my God.”
It wasn’t just any man. It was a dripping wet version of Zorro from the bar.
What should she do? Let him in? Lock the doors?
She decided to crack the window. A little. “What are you doing in the rain?”
“You can’t stay in your car all night. It’s not safe.”
“Getting out isn’t either.”
“You’re under a tree in lightning.”
“You’re in the rain,” she argued.
“Trying to get you out of it.”
“I am out of it.”
“I’m not,” he said testily. His long hair was plastered to his face. “Come inside with me. I promise it’ll be safer than here.”
Water was splattering in her face. “How do I know I can trust you?”
He gave her a steady stare despite the water splashing around him. “You don’t.” Pause. “Room 112.”
