“Uh-huh,” she murmured, before the delicate toes of one foot peeked from behind the waterfall of forest green drapes.
His heart skipped a beat as a shapely ankle appeared, followed by a calf and a slender thigh. Her hand was next, along with an almost transparent black scarf pinched between her thumb and index finger. She let it slowly fall before her head appeared, the lower half of her face shielded by a veil that lent an air of mystery and sensuality.
Instantly, his throat went dry. When she stepped out in the open, he pulled in a breath, his muscles clenching, his body tightening. A whirl of blood swished in his head.
Delectable breasts were barely concealed in a black, sheer, belly dance coin sash, baring her back and dipping low in the front. His hungry gaze followed a span of tanned bare skin to her glistening bellybutton ring to the matching hip scarf she wore. A variety of different colors and lengths of the diaphanous material dangled around her legs. As she undulated her body in sexy and enticing waves, coins jingled, spurring his arousal.
“Tabby, s-stop.” He didn’t recognize the thick throaty voice as his.
Instead of heeding his demand, she giggled, stepping before him and yanking a scarf from her waist to let it float to the floor before she drifted away.
He died a little inside. He had never wanted a woman like he did Tabby. She stirred something deep within him he hadn’t even known existed. Desire so potent it felt as if it touched his soul. The raging need inside him quieted some when she spun around and smiled, showing him the young girl he once knew. Several more times she returned to test his willpower, each time disposing of a scarf to expose more and more of her delectable limbs.
“Please,” he heard himself beg, weakly fighting against the years he had secretly wanted her but stayed away because of her brother and their families’ relationship.
He didn’t know what came over him, but the next time she came close, his hand jutted out and pulled her into his arms.
Their eyes locked in a sultry battle of attraction.
When he ran his fingers across her veil, electricity ignited and snapped, stinging him. The next thing he knew he was kissing her with an unleashed hunger that scared the shit out of him. Dammit. He was actually trembling with the need to take her. It didn’t help that Mine whispered through his thoughts, over and over.
Behind every stubborn man’s downfall (into love) is a determined woman.
Burned
© 2012 Nikki Duncan
Whispering Cove, Book 4
Vic Hayes is content with life in Whispering Cove. She owns a successful salon, has great friends and her perfectly manicured nail is on the pulse of the town’s gossip. For real happiness, she’s only missing one thing—a man. Settling for less than the perfect man, though, isn’t in her nature. He just has to see her as more than his best friend.
Widower Hauk Michaelsen always dreamed of escaping Whispering Cove, until single fatherhood, too young, made it impossible. He enjoys his life as owner of the small town pub. Friends, gossip, and his young daughter keep things jumping. He would do anything for his little girl, but he can’t give her the one thing she desires most—a mother.
When Vic and Hauk are teamed up for a Fall Festival project, sparks ignite suppressed flames. Testing boundaries they’ve never crossed, they find themselves eager to risk more—if Vic can convince Hauk that history won’t be repeated if he takes another chance on love. Warning: Contains hot sex against a fire truck, a sexy firefighter who’s willing to do what it takes, and enough orgasmic explosions to rock your world!
Warning: To all the lonely guys out there: beware best (girl)friends and invites for coffee at the crack of dawn. It’s possibly not your double shot mocha latte she’s looking to wrap her hands or her lips around.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Burned:
Rubbing her chest, wondering at the odd feeling, as if she’d been somehow bruised, Vic turned off the light and headed down the small hall to the living room. Hauk entered as she turned the corner. Tiredness tinted his gaze, but there was a power radiating from him she hadn’t noticed before. A sense of determination.
They both froze. Vic trembled from the nape of her neck to the tips of her fingers. Sophie’s paper drifted to the floor.
His piercing blue eyes snapped to hers. Held.
It was a moment they’d had a few times over the years. The kind of moment that made her wonder if they could be more than friends. The kind that tempted her to step forward and see what it would be like to kiss him. To taste him. It was the kind of moment that haunted her dreams and kept her distancing herself from other men.
Despite the scattered moments, she’d never acted on one. At first because he’d been with Krista. Then he’d been with Jean Marie. He’d needed to heal from the first and deal with the second. By the time he’d gotten past those hurts, he’d just given up on possibilities of more.
He started to speak. Stopped. When he finally did speak, he settled on, “How’s Sophie?”
“Asleep.”
“Is she feeling any better?” Like so many men, he only said what he needed and in few words. Tiredness slowed his tone from its normal steadiness until he sounded brusque.
“Not yet, but with any luck she’ll sleep all night.”
“Unfortunately she’s never been good at staying asleep when she’s sick.”
On top of single-dad duties, he’d been splitting his time between running the bar with a skeleton crew and designing and building a new stage for the festival. She had no doubt he’d pull it all off, but knowing he was in for a long night bugged Vic.
“Would you like me to stay?” Even as she asked, she knew he wouldn’t accept. She stepped forward, feeling suddenly awkward and not liking it. “You don’t have time to join the ranks of the flu-fallen.”
He smiled as she’d hoped, but in spite of his Norwegian ancestry that gifted him with godlike looks, it didn’t brighten his wiped-out gaze. The man was exhausted.
“You should go.” He moved forward but his feet didn’t get a clear signal. He stumbled, whether on the carpet or his own feet she wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. The momentum carried him toward her in three rushed shuffles.
Fearing he would keep going and knock himself out when he fell, Vic hustled to close the distance between them and stopped his plunge with her arms wrapped around his waist. His weight bearing down on her, his hands against her lower back, fully awakened the awareness she’d sensed when he stepped in moments ago.
Sparks ignited beneath her skin, snapping her body into an instant arousal that paled to that in her dreams. Swallowing, she backed a step away and struggled for something safe to say. Something that wouldn’t send Hauk running.
“I’m staying. You’re going to bed.” Shit. Nothing safe about that.
“Okay.” Hauk’s agreement was more an effect of their closeness than real agreement.
It had to be, because he never would have agreed to her staying overnight. He would worry too much that someone in town would catch on, or Sophie would get ideas, or worse, Vic would get ideas. Too late.
Her mind and body, especially her body, went into erotic overdrive when he didn’t back away either. Arousal filled her, lapping through her in curling waves that ebbed and flowed with warmth and wanting. “Hauk?”
“Hmm?” He set his hands on her hips, tugging her back to him.
He’d never touched her as anything other than a friend, and even those casual brushes of skin had been shielded behind propriety. Unsure if it was from a drop in his guard or hers, Vic was acutely aware of Hauk’s body.
Tall. Lean. Warm. Hard… Everywhere.
She was equally aware of her body’s response to him.
Trembly. Wet. Hot.
Oh sweet damn.
“Sean is waiting.”
“What?” she whispered as she raised her head to find Hauk staring down with…was that hunger? Sean was nice, but really not her type. Why bring him up? “Who cares?”
They stood at a boundary they’d never acknowledged, discussed or crossed. A boundary she wanted only to obliterate.
Rising up to her toes, with her body rubbing against his deliciously, she eased closer to his lips. Answering her desire, he held her closer, his head lowering slowly toward her lips.
The kiss was nothing more than a light caress.
They both pulled back. Vic traced a finger along the outline of her lips and hummed. “Do you think…? Would you…”
Hauk leaned in and kissed her. Again it was only a gentle touch. Tentative. Barely there. Lingering a moment longer.
They both pulled back. Again Vic touched her lips and hummed.
“Awful?” he asked.
She shook her head once with her eyes mostly closed. “A little weird.”
“Yeah.” Again he brushed his lips across hers. “But worth repeating.”
“Yeah.” She leaned in and pressed her lips to his.
The next brush was tentative, but long enough. A spark ignited a chain reaction that lit a fuse. With an almost unheard “hmm”, Hauk lifted Vic until she was flush against him and her feet dangled in the air. Lips level without the need to bend or stretch, they explored each other.
Slow sweeps of lips rapidly became rough rushes of tongues. The burning fuse fried Vic’s nerves, leaving only raw sensation and growing heat in its wake. Burying her hands in his blond hair, thrilling at the extra length since he’d missed his last two appointments, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
He was her best friend. She’d always loved him but had never imagined he would show any interest in her. Whatever had changed his mind, she wasn’t arguing.
The move settled her pussy directly against his dick. He was thick and hard. She was wet and swollen. Neither of them could hide their reaction to the other. She loved that he didn’t try. Yet.
“Damn, Vic.” He panted when he eased back.
“Ditto, Hauk.” She only gave him a moment to breathe before reclaiming his mouth.
She tensed the muscles in her thighs for concentrated control and slid her body against his. The line they’d never crossed blurred with each pounding pulse of their hearts, and she didn’t give a damn because nothing would make her regret Hauk’s touch.
Her belly jumped with nervous energy. It was a sensation she’d only felt once, the night she’d decided to give up her virginity—an experience she’d never regretted. Spurred by the memory, by the hope for another amazing memory, Vic tightened her hold on Hauk and kissed a little deeper.
Their tongues shifted from sliding caresses to tangling thrusts. Fluid relaxation whispered through Vic’s muscles, taking them from knots of tension to tendrils of flame. Her arousal was as tangible as Hauk’s lean body as she curled into him. Committed the feel of him against her to memory.
Encouraged by her responses and apparently eager to continue, Hauk carried her to the sofa. He sank. She straddled. He gripped her hips. She stripped off his shirt.
Vic took in Hauk’s work-toned torso and, like a clichéd teen with a crush, licked her lips. She’d seen him without shirts, and loved each treat, but somehow with her palms flattened on his pecs, he seemed bigger than she’d thought. Firmer.
“Vic, are we really going to do this?”
Please, yes. “I’m game if you are.”
She slid her hands down his body while her gaze traveled up. The aggressive arousal dominating his cerulean stare would’ve erased any doubts, if she had any.
His thumbs moved rhythmically over the hem of her shirt. He didn’t break their locked gazes, but neither did he make a move or say anything for long, quivering moments.
Vic rolled her hips again, rubbing against Hauk’s cock. A shaft of fire shot through her core. With a little growl rumbling from deep in his chest, he lifted her shirt. Subtle calluses on strong hands with lithe fingers awakened each patch of skin they stroked. He flicked her nipples. Every touch heightened her sensitivity to his caress. She arched her back, begging for more.
He bent and took a lace-covered nipple in his mouth and sucked. She bucked against him as desire sparked through her brain and gripped her spine. He shifted to her other nipple and her muscles went from lax to tight.
She had never reacted so quickly to a man’s touch. Even in dreams her blood warmed slowly. Hauk’s touch though, the sultry taunt in his touches, the unexpected joy of having him return her desire, burst through her with instant heat.
Trailing kisses down the center of her torso, he barely made it to the waist of her pants before an orgasm rippled through her. On a scale of one to ten it was only a four or five, but it made her wonder just how powerful his touches could be.
“Hauk.” The single syllable dragged out as she rode the crest of the orgasm. He caressed her stomach and neck with his hands while returning to lick, kiss and suck on her breasts.
“I didn’t know I could want you this way.”
“I did.” And it was damn delicious.
“Sophie’s down the hall.”
“It’s not like we’re strangers.” She could help him brighten the moral gray area if need be.
“Which makes it more…”
“Interesting?” A smile curled her lips with pure pleasure at the idea of him wanting more.
A woman on fire with desire. A man with the right equipment to fan the flames.
Brazen
© 2012 Cathryn Fox
Whispering Cove, Book 6
Josie Wells’s libido is in an uproar. Her psychic promised she’d meet Mr. Right—two months ago. Her good-girl image is wearing thin, and when she gets the chance to have a little fun with town bad boy Adam Collins, she decides to go for it. The notorious playboy will be perfect for some no-strings play time until the real thing comes along.
Knowing he goes for the brazen type, Josie pours on the heat to seduce him at the town’s Festival. The kiss they share touches off an explosion of passion she never saw coming.
Adam’s always been crazy about Josie, but he’s never been willing to expose such a nice girl to the Collins Curse. She deserves the big house with the white picket fence—with a man who doesn’t have failed relationships written all over his family tree.
As their brief affair starts to become something more—and the town psychic predicts that Josie is destined to be his—Adam dares to hope there’s a chance. But then he learns a secret that makes him question what’s real…and what isn’t.
Warning: Contains hot sex against a fire truck, a sexy firefighter who’s willing to do what it takes, and enough orgasmic explosions to rock your world!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Brazen:
He glanced up to see the line of women forming on the street, all eager to trade a dollar for a kiss. Adam grinned, thinking the kissing booth trumped the psychic booth any day, but then a darker, more serious thought wiped the smile from his face.
As his best bud Trent, who was in charge of crowd control, went to work on getting the ladies to form a straight line before he opened the booth for business, Adam took a quick moment to consider what Madame M had told him. That he’d fall in love with a woman with the initials J.C.W., and find true happiness.
True happiness, his ass!
Clearly the woman knew nothing about his fate, or the undeniable fact that he had his father’s blood running through his veins. Adam’s father—like his father before him, and his father before him—had never been faithful a day in his life, even when he was married. Eventually he’d up and left his wife and two sons, skipping town with a young waitress from the Seafarer. Adam heard rumors that he’d stayed with her for a little over a year before he moved on to something shinier. Sadly enough, there hadn’t been a Collins man yet to break the pattern.
With the Collins curse handed down from one generation to the next, no one in the small town of Whispering Cove expected Adam or Jacob to be any different—including their own mother—and so far both he and his brother had lived up to those expectations.
As far as
Adam was concerned, Madame M had simply pulled the initial J.C.W. out of thin air, because he clearly had the inability to fall in love or commit for any length of time, which in his books meant true happiness.
Despite knowing that, he wasn’t sure why that so-called psychic’s prediction had bothered him so much. Like he’d told Errol, he didn’t believe the woman had any spiritual abilities anyway. Then again, perhaps it was simply because it hit too close to home, and she was suggesting he could have the one thing he knew he couldn’t.
Honestly, he just needed to put her ridiculous prediction behind him and remind himself that she had no idea what she was talking about. Although he couldn’t deny that she did seem to know the nickname his father used to call him before he’d skipped town some fifteen years ago. But Adam had always been athletic—joining every sport going. Everyone knew that about him, and a lot of fathers called their sons “sport”, right?
“Hey, Adam.” The sound of Cheri’s voice pulled his focus, and when he glanced at her and noted the pair of dark, sultry eyes looking him over with genuine interest, it helped lighten his mood and bring his attention back around to the task at hand.
“Cheri,” he greeted, as she sat down in the chair on the other side of the small booth.
She slid her dollar across the table, and from the way she was looking at him, Adam could tell she was interested in a lot more than a simple kiss.
Puckering her lips, she purred like a kitten and said, “This is just to whet your appetite, baby.” She leaned forward, her mouth only inches from his. “Then later, when you’re done here, we can really get down to business because I have a pussy in need of a fireman’s attention.” With that she planted her perfectly painted lips on his.
Adam had kissed Cheri before, and while he thought she was a great kisser, very hot and passionate, this time he felt nothing as her soft lips pressed against his, nor did her sexy little game of firefighter rescuing the kitty excite him either. There was no doubt that she was putting her best efforts forward, but Adam just couldn’t muster up the enthusiasm to give her anything more than a small peck.
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