by Nina Lane
“I may have seen evidence of that.” She reached between us and stroked me through my pants.
This woman was out to fucking kill me. Either that or she thought I had more restraint than I did. I pushed into her hand.
“Like that, do you?” I responded with an incoherent grunt. “I have to say I was a little surprised when I came in the room to see Stacey on her knees in front of you.”
I grinned down at her as she looked up at me, lust in her dark eyes. “Now I know you’re just playing.” I reached around and squeezed her ass cheeks.
“I really don’t want that to be the last vision in my head for today. Mind if I rectify that?” Without waiting for a response, she dropped down to her knees in front of me.
I laced my hands together on top of my head. “What are you doing?” I asked, hoping like hell it was exactly what I thought.
“Oh, I think you know.” She looked up at me from beneath that dark fringe of lashes, and the image was so erotic I had to close my eyes for fear that this would end way too soon.
Her small hands reached forward and undid my pants before pulling my eager cock out. She stroked my hard length up and down a few times before leaning forward and licking the mushroom tip. I groaned and my hands pushed into her hair, urging her on.
She opened her lips and welcomed me into her hot, wet mouth, running her lips up and down my shaft, knowing when to squeeze her lips tighter and when to let off on the pressure.
“Jasmine…” I moaned as her hand fisted the base of my cock and followed her mouth’s movement. “Aw, fuck.”
I couldn’t take much more. I couldn’t. If I didn’t stop this right now, I’d be coming in her mouth. And not that that didn’t sound like heaven, but I wanted inside her pussy.
I used my hands to pull her off my cock and she groaned in protest. “I need inside you, Jasmine. Tell me that’s okay with you.”
Much to my delight, she grinned widely. “That’s so okay with me.”
“Are you on the pill? Clean?” I asked as I helped her up off her knees.
She bit her lip and nodded. “Yes and yes.”
“Then we have nothing to worry about, I guess.” She was breathing heavily, clearly as worked up as I was.
Once she stood to her full height, I spun her around, determined to make my earlier fantasy a reality. Placing both her hands on the mirror in front of her, I forced her legs apart and bent her over. She eyed me in the mirror through lust-filled eyes. I flipped her skirt up, and without taking a moment to consider if it was okay with her or not, I wrenched down her dance underwear and ripped apart the skimpy thong she wore underneath.
Jasmine sucked in a breath and then moaned. Apparently, she liked it. Good girl.
I positioned myself at her glistening entrance and pushed inside her in one long stroke. “Oh!” she cried out and tensed for a second then relaxed. I held myself still for a second—not an easy feat—so that she could adjust to my size. When she began grinding herself onto me, willing me to move, I did just that, plunging in and out of her with both hands on her waist. Her hands stayed on the mirror, but her head dropped down as the push/pull of our activities rocked her back and forth.
I watched in the mirror as I fucked her relentlessly. It became too much—complete sensory overload—seeing her body shake as I thrust into her, feeling her contract around my hard length, hearing both of our guttural moans.
When her legs began to shake, I pulled completely out of her and, without wasting even a second, spun her around to face me then yanked her skirt down to her ankles. Reaching down with both arms, I hooked her under the upper thighs so that her legs straddled my waist.
I thrust into her at the same time I pinned her to the mirror. She moaned and wrapped her arms around my neck, clinging to me as I hammered in and out of her.
Tingling started at the base of my spine and warmth spread to my groin. Knowing I was close, I shifted our position slightly.
“Oh my…Eduardo!” she cried out.
She liked that as much as I knew she would. I continued my assault on her, trying my best to keep from coming, wanting this insane pleasure to last as long as it possibly could.
I slowed my pace a bit and reached down between us. Fuck. She was so wet. I rubbed her clit with my thumb—and it was like pulling the pin from a grenade. She bucked up and down and cried out, clinging tighter to me when all her muscles contracted.
I gave myself over to the sensation of her milking my length and groaned as I poured into her. Then I pushed into her wet heat a couple more times and finally stilled as I came down from the high.
We stayed there, sweating and panting, her plastered to the cool glass while we both caught our breath. I inched away from her so I was able to see her face.
“That was…wow,” she said, her voice a little lower and huskier than it normally was.
“It was beyond wow, Jasmine…so far beyond.” I kissed her forehead and pulled her off of me, letting her slide down the wall until she stood on her own. Once I was sure she was okay to stand, I moved away.
Jasmine bent to pick up her skirt, and I started cracking up when I glanced behind her.
“What?” she asked, confused.
I pointed to the mirror behind her. On it was the sweaty outline of what was obviously a pair of ass cheeks.
Jasmine covered her mouth with her hand and laughed. “Well, I guess you could say we’ve left our mark here.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jasmine
It was the big night. Dress rehearsal the day before had gone well, but there had been no live audience then. I’d been allotted a pair of tickets so I’d invited Mason and Ellie along, and since Little Mac was no longer involved, they’d agreed to come.
My stomach rolled with nervous energy, and though I was trying to mentally go through the dance in my head as Eduardo had suggested, I kept forgetting what steps came next. My frustration was mounting and he could tell.
“Chula, you know this.” He rubbed my upper arms up and down. “Stop overthinking. When the music starts, just feel.”
His hands on my body helped to calm me—almost as if all the confidence he had in me was somehow seeping into me through osmosis.
“I can do this. I can do this.” I chanted this to myself for the next several minutes. Finally, Eduardo stopped me by bending down and kissing me. It began slow and built from there. So much, in fact, that I had to call the make-up girl over to fix my lipstick.
But it worked. No surprise there. Pretty much any time Eduardo put his lips on me, I was putty in his hands.
“Eduardo and Jasmine, you guys are on in five. Places, please,” the producer said.
Eduardo reached for my hand and we walked out onto the glossy stage together. It occurred to me, as the audience clapped while we strode across the floor, that we’d been in this together from the start. He’d been rooting for me and pushing me to do better than I thought I was capable of. Together we’d put in all the hard work to get us to this point.
I spotted Mason and Ellie in the front row as we made our way past and gave them a small wave. Ellie gave me a thumbs-up and a radiant smile while Mason shouted out, “Break a leg, Jas!”
“Friends of yours?” Eduardo asked.
I laughed. “How’d you guess?”
We took our places, made our final adjustments to our costumes and moved into our starting positions.
A strange calm stole over me as I stood in the spotlight listening to the announcer introduce us, waiting for the first beat of music to sound from the speakers.
I looked into Eduardo’s dark chocolate eyes, already feeling our connection intensifying.
The announcer finished speaking and there was silence for a moment before the first note played. Without thinking, I put my leg up around Eduardo’s waist like I was supposed to and he dragged me a few feet back. We maintained eye contact, and I couldn’t have looked away if I’d tried. We were completely and totally engrossed in one another and the dan
ce.
As we glided across the floor, I didn’t think about the audience surrounding us or the steps we were taking. I was one with the music and my partner as I let Eduardo lead me across the dance floor. Our connection transcended the dance, and before I knew it, we were in the final pose.
I blinked slowly as I became aware of our surroundings and the audience’s applause thundering around us. Eduardo smiled down at me with a twinkle sparkling in his dark eyes. He took my hand and we bowed to the audience.
Leaning into me, he said, “You were amazing, Jasmine,” then kissed my cheek. Heat settled in my face, and I hoped I wasn’t as red as my dress was.
The producer yelled out that we were on a commercial break. Before we could leave the stage, Mason and Ellie made their way over to us from their seats.
“Oh my God, you did so awesome!” Ellie said and pulled me into a hug.
I laughed. “Thanks. I think it went pretty well, right?” I pulled away from Ellie.
“Yeah, Jas. Great job. Didn’t know you had that in you,” Mason said.
“I’m full of surprises,” I said and winked. “Ellie and Mason, this is Eduardo Flores.” I motioned between all of them.
“Good to meet you, man,” Mason said and stuck out his hand to shake Eduardo’s.
“Likewise. I’m a big fan of your music.” Eduardo had a grin plastered across his face, so I figured he actually meant it.
“Thanks, I appreciate that.”
“So this is the famous, Eduardo?” Ellie said, drawing out his name. I gave her a playful hit on the arm.
“Famous? Hmm…I’m afraid to ask what I’m famous for,” Eduardo responded with his chest puffed out. Oh yeah, he was loving this.
“Alright, guys. We’re going to go get changed. Will you stick around?” I asked Mason and Ellie. “Maybe we can go get a celebratory drink or something?”
“Of course we will! We’ll wait in our seats. Come get us when you’re ready,” Ellie said.
“Will do.”
“Good to meet you both,” Eduardo said to them before taking my hand and leading me off the stage.
As we wound our way backstage through the performers and production crew, he seemed tense. Something was different…his mood had shifted. Eduardo hadn’t said anything since we’d left the stage. Once we reached the dressing rooms, I decided to ask what the problem was.
“Is everything okay? You seem quiet all of a sudden.”
“Everything’s good,” he said, but his tone and facial expression told me something was far from good.
“Are you going to join us for drinks?” I asked, suddenly afraid of what his answer might be.
He paused for a beat, then finally a small smile lit his face. “I was afraid you weren’t going to ask.”
“Of course I want you to come. Why wouldn’t I?” I put my hands on my hips.
Eduardo shrugged. “I couldn’t be sure that this thing between us wasn’t a fling while we were working together. I hadn’t even really thought about what would happen once we’d finished the dance…not until you asked your friends out for a drink.”
I found his insecurity charming and leaned in to place a kiss on his lips—which he took full advantage of. He pushed his tongue into my mouth until we were both groping one another and gasping for air.
When voices sounded from the hallway, he pulled away and held my face in his hands, gazing down at me with a grin on his face.
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” I said.
He threw his head back and laughed. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
I listened to his unabashed laughter, hoping to be the one to make him laugh like that for a long time to come. We may have been starting out, but something told me we’d have plenty of time to figure out all the steps to take in this dance of ours—and more importantly, we’d take them together.
THE END
OTHER BOOKS BY ELISABETH GRACE
The Limelight Series
Rumor Has It (Limelight #1)
Picture Perfect (Limelight #2)
Collateral Agreement (Limelight #3)
Maine Attraction Series
Indecision
Indiscretion
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Elisabeth has a soft spot for happily ever-afters and a hot spot for alpha males. If she’s not curled up somewhere with a romance novel in one hand and chocolate in the other you can probably find her typing madly on her keyboard creating her next story. She currently lives outside Toronto, Canada with her husband, two small children, and a killer cat.
LET’S CONNECT!
I love to hear from readers! Feel free to connect with me via e-mail at [email protected] or through social media. You can find all the links on my website at Elisabeth-Grace.com. Want to know when my next book comes out? Sign up for my newsletter via my website!!
LONGING FOR LANGSTON
Mavericks of Meeteetse Prequel Novella
By Renee Vincent
www.reneevincent.com
Tired of living in his brother’s shadow, Brody Galven wants the folks of Meeteetse to realize he’s no longer a bad-boy screwup. He also wants his childhood best friend, Olivia Langston. While staying out of trouble proves impossible, admitting he loves her is out of the question…even when she’s about to walk out of his life forever.
Chapter One
Brody Galven lifted his beer to his lips and sucked it down as he stared at the woman waiting tables at the other end of the bar. He leaned back in his chair and stretched his long legs. At the same time, he took a lengthy gander at hers. His goody-two-shoes older brother, Rod, would call them shapely. But to Brody, they were downright delectable. What he wouldn’t give to lay her down and taste her smooth, warm skin.
He chased the imaginary flavor of her thighs with the rest of his beer and continued to feast his eyes on her. The locals knew her as Olivia, but he called her Liv. She had hair like midnight and eyes like ice, a combination that everyone in this backward town thought odd and unnatural. To Brody, they were what made her beautiful, as unique and unparalleled as a perky pink flower on a prickly cactus.
Though they’d grown up together, she never ceased to amaze him. No matter what the girl did, she could do it just as well or better than anyone. Fish. Hunt. Ride. Sing.
Kiss…
Brody smiled, remembering that last one.
It had happened one night on her twenty-third birthday. She’d been working the late shift at the Wagon Wheel and, as always, he sat in the parking lot on the tailgate of his truck waiting for her to get off work, so he could give her a lift home. When he heard the bar door burst open and his name squeal from her lips, he spun around just in time to catch her leaping into his arms. His cowboy hat hit the ground, and his heart soared. She’d finally landed an agent for her singing career, and before he could really understand what that meant, she planted a kiss on his lips.
At first, it was just a quick peck, an innocent gesture punctuating her excitement for something she’d tried for years to score. But as soon as she realized what she’d done, her smile faded.
Brody remembered how rigid Olivia’s body felt against his as they held each other’s gaze. The last thing he wanted was for her to push away and apologize. So, he bent and kissed her back. Only this time, it was slow and easy. Nothing felt more right than tasting her lips and feeling her body sink into his chest.
As he sat there, remembering how soft and warm her mouth felt on his, he also recalled the look in her eyes. He swore he saw a glimmer of unrestrained lust in them. As if at any moment, she’d tear his clothes off and fuck his brains out.
But what did he know? The second he’d cupped her face and deepened the kiss, she pulled back and stared at him as if he had three heads. Immediately he’d played it off like no big deal and broke away from her with as much aloofness as he could fake. He swiped his hat from the ground and made some excuse about having to get her home right away so she could tell her momma the goo
d news. That way he lessened the amount of time he had with her in case she was itching to discuss the matter exhaustively.
In hindsight, Brody was damn glad she hadn’t called him out for crossing the line. He broke the friend code by following directions from his dick instead of his brain. Most guys would’ve caught a slap across the face or a knee to the nuts for what he’d pulled. Lucky for him, his Liv wasn’t that kind of girl. Shit happens was her usual motto.
Since then, Liv had never brought it up and he had never tried anything like that again. But it didn’t mean his hormones quit raging. Instead, he’d admire her from afar and do his damnedest to keep it off the radar. Some days that was easier said than done—like tonight.
Though Liv had grown up a tomboy, Brody couldn’t help but notice the feminine curves she crammed into her cutoff denim shorts. Hell, even the knot she tied in her shirt just below her breasts tempted him to pull it free.
Get a grip, Brody. She’s off-limits and you know it.
He fidgeted in his seat, giving his burgeoning hard-on some room. Olivia Langston might be his best friend—hell, his only friend—but she drove him fuckin’ wild.
Brody adjusted his hat and leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. He regarded the smile she offered to a group of guys who’d ordered a round, and decided it didn’t sit well with him. She’d argue it was just for tips. He’d argue it was too much.
That was the meat and potatoes of their relationship. If she wasn’t doing something to either turn him on or piss him off, she was getting herself in a situation where he had to step in and save her.
From where he sat, he sized up all three, determining whether he’d need help if a fight broke out. Unfortunately, the folks in this establishment mostly resembled those from a retirement home rather than a cowboy bar. He’d be on his own this time.
Liv glanced his way as if she felt the weight of his gaze bearing down on her. To downplay the fact that he’d been caught staring, he picked up his empty beer bottle and shook it, signaling he needed another. She nodded once and dismissed him, only to offer another pretty smile to the three dudes in the booth.
Brody crossed his arms and growled under his breath. At times, he hated her job. Especially when she had to act all sweet and kind to a bunch of cheesy-smiling, smooth-talking city slickers who thought they were genuine cowboys because they wore a hat and boots. Brody took one glance at the shiny black leather gleaming from their Tony Lamas. They were no more acquainted with the dust and manure of a cattle ranch than a two-bit whore was acquainted with driving a Bentley.
