by Hazel Jacobs
He brings his hands up to cup my throat and dip into my hair, and I want to sing. In fact, I hum a little as he kisses me, pulling me over into his lap and reaching down to the dip between my breasts and the taut lines of my belly.
“Let’s try this,” he says against my lips. “You said… something… about… ground rules?” He breaks up each word with a kiss.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders and grind down feeling a firm bulge press into the heat between my legs and feeling him shudder beneath me.
“Later.”
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Hazel Jacobs is a passionate fan of romance novels and a crazy fan of rock and roll. Never trained as a writer, she began creative writing as a hobby, which quickly evolved into a mission to pen a novel to bring a new generation of readers into the wild realm of loud music and total passion.
