by Vivian Arend
They lay tangled together for another moment, hearts pounding, blood rushing.
“You know I’ll never be able to have a meeting in here now without remembering this,” Tasha complained.
He grinned down at her. “That was the idea.”
As far as he was concerned, the memory-making would continue for the rest of their lives.
About the Author
Vivian Arend has hiked, biked, skied and paddled her way around most of North America and parts of Europe. Throughout all the wandering in the wilderness, stories have been planted and they are bursting out in vivid colour. Paranormal, twisted fairytales, red-hot contemporaries—the genres are all over.
Between times of living with no running water, she home schools her teenaged children and tries to keep up with her husband—the instigator of most of the wilderness adventures.
She loves to hear from readers: [email protected]. You can also drop by www.vivianarend.com for more information on what is coming next.
Look for these titles by Vivian Arend
Now Available:
Granite Lake Wolves
Wolf Signs
Wolf Flight
Wolf Games
Wolf Tracks
Forces of Nature
Tidal Wave
Whirlpool
Turn It On
Stormchild
Falling, Freestyle
Coming Soon:
Stormy Seduction
Silent Storm
Rising, Freestyle
Rocky Mountain Heat
Pushing the sensual limits can set off all kinds of alarms…
Turn It On
© 2010 Vivian Arend
Turner Twins, Book 1
Inheriting her grandmother’s home is a dream come true for web designer Maxine Turner. She’s looking forward to a little freedom from the constant demands of her beloved, crazy mob of a family. When vandals expose just how vulnerable she is living alone, she seeks help.
Ryan Claymore’s well-thought-out life was wrenched out from under him when responsibility for his special-needs stepbrother landed on his shoulders. Going from military man to business man hasn’t been easy. He counts himself lucky he’s found Maxine to trade his security-system knowledge for her website expertise.
The red-hot chemistry that sizzles between them comes from out of the blue, and they both fight a losing battle to resist. Even the secret Ryan hides isn’t enough to keep Maxine from working her way into his heart—and his bed.
But something else might tear them apart. Whoever seems determined to destroy her home, and her sanity along with it.
Warning: Realistic multiple orgasm sex scenes, men getting in touch with their emotions, brothers being—well—brothers, and a very tempting back-porch swing…you have been warned.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Turn It On:
He slowly removed the cork from the wine, using the time to breathe deeply and calm his overactive body and mind. Spending the whole evening in Maxine’s presence triggered the desire to do much more than simply sit on the giant porch swing and share a glass of wine as they admired the view of the lake. Ryan was pretty sure the wine would taste far better if he got to lap it off her skin, especially the warm scoop of her belly. And lower.
The dinner invitation had been an impulse. He’d puzzled over it as he walked away from her earlier. Yeah, she was hot enough to ignite a missile, but the timing sucked. Maybe after they’d finished working for each other, maybe after shit settled with his brother, he’d arrange to meet on a nonprofessional basis. But with her taste still in his mouth, the look in her big eyes egging him on, he’d spoken without thinking.
He’d considered the situation the whole drive to the nursing home before coming to a decision. Fine. They’d go out, have a simple meal together. He’d drop her off at the end of the evening and that would be all—at least for now.
Sometime during the visit with his brother, he’d changed his mind. There in the small room, with a relative he barely knew, the message of the past months smashed into him with the weight of an anvil. Life was short. There was no reason for him not to reach out and clasp hold of something special.
Maxine Turner was something very special.
She sat curled up in the corner of the swing leaning on a pillow. She had her long legs tucked under her while she focused on the lake. Her rich auburn hair draped over her shoulders and her eyes sparkled. His body tightened and he longed to stroke her skin to see if it was as soft as it looked. After handing her a glass of wine, he settled in the opposite corner to admire her better.
“The view is spectacular, isn’t it?” Max spoke quietly.
He sat mesmerized by the sight of her. The arousal pounding through his blood shouted for him to hurry up, while his instincts warned him to move with caution. They both fell silent, sipping their wine and staring at the dark lake reflecting twinkling lights from a distant house.
“When I was little I always wanted to sleep on the swing. We’d come for family dinners, and there would be major chaos, with the cousins and aunts and uncles everywhere. I’d get tired of the noise after a bit and come here and curl up with a book. In my imagination I was on a pirate ship and this was my hammock, but no matter how much I begged at the end of the evening, Mom and Dad always insisted it was time to come home and sleep in my proper bed.”
She played with a curl as she spoke, seeming not very much older than the child she would have been all those years ago. She took a deep breath, and his gaze was riveted by the sight of one open button too many, the curve of her breast visible under the light fabric of her blouse. He was suddenly very aware she was no child, and his body tightened with desire.
He put his wine glass away and took hers from her fingers. She stared at him, puzzled, until he reached for her and pulled her into his arms. He cradled her, nestling her body into his and adjusting until they were half-reclining, half-leaning on each other. Her head rested against his chest, the warmth of her body sizzling into him but he kept his touch gentle. The swing swayed and she sighed, a long, low sound of pleasure. Her body relaxed against his and he stroked her arm slowly until her breathing settled as well.
Small noises in the air created a lullaby. The wind stirred the trees, leaves rustling, branches rubbing on each other. The sound of cars and the city faded to nothing, and the quiet of the country surrounded them. They lay quietly and Ryan realized it was a long time since he’d known peace like this.
Maxine stirred in his arms, rolling to face him. Her eyes were bright and she snuggled closer, her torso melting into his as she wrapped her arms around his neck and drew their mouths together.
The kiss started gentle yet the desire was there underneath. Tongues caressed, lips and teeth feasting on skin soon heated to boiling. Ryan loved how she tasted, loved how she felt under his hands that had taken a life of their own and now explored the full curves of her body. He stroked the swell of her breasts and she moaned, pressing into his touch. He didn’t stop, continuing the journey down her waist, over her hip, circling the flesh of her ass before returning up her body once more. All the while he kissed her, feasting on the flavor and softness of her mouth.
She combed her fingers through his hair and tugged, wiggling upward until his lips met her neck. She dropped her head back, offering him a clear path down the pale skin, the pulse in her throat beating time with the pulse in his body. He rolled her, pleased to find the swing had an extra-wide seat to allow the room they needed. Ryan nibbled and licked his way down her throat, pressing her sweater and blouse to the side to allow him access to her collarbone. He unhooked one button after another, slowly revealing the creamy swells of her breasts above the pale yellow of her bra. She quivered under him, a small whimper escaping her throat that made his blood race. He dropped kisses over her heart, enjoying the scorching heat of her skin under his lips.
Ryan lowered his face to the valley between her breasts and breathed deeply. As much as he wanted to consum
e her completely, as much as he wanted to continue nibbling the length of her whole body, he needed to proceed carefully. She’d responded enthusiastically to his touch, to his kiss, but from hints she’d let slip during their dinner conversation, and her current full-body blush, he knew she wasn’t very experienced. She needed more than a rush to the bedroom.
Yet he had no intention of letting her get away. He knew how to take his time, make it good for both of them. He rose over her, staring into her passion-darkened eyes. “I want you, Maxine.” He kissed her lips tenderly. Her tongue teased his and the pressure built.
Damn, if he was inside her in ten seconds it wouldn’t be soon enough.
Pulling away, his desire reflected back from her eyes. “I’m going to make love to you, Maxine. I’m going to remove every stitch of your clothing and touch every inch of your skin. I’m going to spend hours learning what your body needs, learning what you enjoy and then hours more giving it to you.”
Her eyes widened, her face flushed crimson, her mouth open in a circle of awe as he spoke. Her tongue slipped out to moisten her bottom lip, and he nipped at the plump wet surface, the burst of her flavor sending his arousal even higher. He lowered his torso on top of her slowly, his rigid cock pressing against her yielding body. Their lips were mere inches apart and she continued to stare at him, her eyes showing desire and panic in equal proportions.
The porch boards creaked to their left. “Maxy? Are you out here?”
Fuck.
He never thought his next wildfire would be wearing a red dress.
Lipstick on His Collar
© 2010 Inez Kelley
“Make me your goddess and I’ll take you to heaven.”
This sultry promise sparks a scorching, unforgettable one-night stand. The next morning Bram Winters awakes with a hickey and a head full of wicked memories—alone. His nameless goddess is gone without a trace, along with his shirt. And his heart.
Five months later, he stumbles across his mystery lady in a Laundromat, but she still won’t give up her name. Worse, she begs him to leave, no questions asked. Once he catches the spark of terror in her eyes, though, his firefighter training takes over—and he digs in for the duration.
Lady never wanted Bram to see her life’s ugly underside, but it’s too late—his socks are already in the washer. He was supposed to be her declaration of independence from her unstable ex, a bittersweet memory to carry into her new life.
Except the ex continues to stalks her. And Bram’s reappearance sends her emotions and desires tumbling over the edge. As the minutes wear on, sexual tension rises faster than the steam from a hot water wash.
And Lady’s ex watches from the shadows, growing more furious by the minute…
Warning: Scorching sex, icy scissor play and an anonymous woman taking a wet slide down one hot ex-fireman’s pole. Beware of hot flashes and spontaneous combustion. Correct change not required.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Lipstick on His Collar:
Behind her, Bram cleared his throat. Her eyes slid closed and she drew in a slow, empowering breath before turning. Both his arms were crossed and one thick ebony brow quirked at an inquisitive angle. “Well, that was interesting. Ex boyfriend or husband?”
“Boyfriend. Bram—” Pushing a stray hair off her forehead, she blew the breath away. “Look, I’m sorry—”
“Just break up?”
Her braid must be too tight. And the broken ventilation system had baked her brain. And maybe the bagel she’d had for lunch was past its due date. That was why her head was throbbing. It had nothing to do with the Jerry Springer-esque turn of her life.
“No. I left him back before we…in June. I broke up with him in June. He just doesn’t get the message. He always comes in about this time and I didn’t want…when you came… I never expected…I just… Seeing you again knocked me off-kilter. Sorry. I didn’t want you involved with something so…ugly.”
A twitch along his upper lip warned her of his gentle smile before it appeared. He relaxed his stance, leaning back on the counter and crossing his ankles. “It’s okay. I didn’t think I’d see you again either. But I’m glad I found you.”
She couldn’t breathe. He’d found her, they’d found each other again. It had to be a great big cosmic joke, right? Stuff like that doesn’t just happen in real life. Life didn’t hand out dreams and wishes like candy. Yet, there he stood.
Damn, he was fine. Half the time, she convinced herself that she’d prettied him up, made him more attractive in her memories, but staring at him now, she knew that mental picture was Kodak-clear. For one night, she’d been the center of his world. They’d shared more than sex; he’d listened, focused on her and heard what she had said. Being his lady, even for a brief moment, had been a precious gift. It had almost been too hard to slide from his bed the next morning. She’d learned to be careful what you wished for because letting the wish go once you’d held it sucked.
“How did you find me?”
“I needed clean socks.” His smile should be listed on the CDC website because it sent her stomach into shivers and set her skin to tingling. “I’m working on the new 911 center over in Millerton. I didn’t know you’d be here. You could’ve knocked me over with a feather when I saw you.”
Feather? Yeah, that is not the force that slammed into her when he’d walked in the door. More like she got whapped with a horny stick. His china-blue gaze fringed with coal-black lashes caressed her from toe to nose and her nipples tightened. A warm pulse formed between her legs. How many sex acts had they done that night? She’d lost count and was sure that shower thing was a new position he’d dreamed up. God knows, he’d filled her dreams nightly for five months. She woke every morning sweaty, empty, and with a gnawing hunger only he had ever satisfied. Her libido growled, demanding to be fed, but she slid around him, waving goodbye to two customers.
He caught her just in front of him, his arm halting her path and drawing her closer to his frame. “So what is your name?”
The sultry purr in his tone drew her gaze up and vivid sexual longing sizzled between them. Oh yeah, he was hungry too. His eyes dropped to watch her tongue slick across her lip. Her mouth watered at memories and the buffet she saw unfolding in front of her now. No one said she couldn’t she go back for seconds. She licked her lips again just to feel his chest rise with a deep inhale. Feminine power filled her, and she returned his purr, gliding her fingers along his biceps.
“Now, where’s the fun in telling you that? I like being mysterious.”
“Mysterious? You are that.” Deep, dark and thick with desire, his voice melted like chocolate and a craving gripped her. Bram in the throes of orgasm was a luscious, intoxicating sound. God, he was delicious and she wanted more. He angled closer, until his warm breath whispered on her cheek. “You’re not going to tell me?”
“No.” If she leaned two inches in, she could kiss him.
“That’s not fair.” Bram shifted one inch closer.
“All’s fair in…whatever.”
“It wouldn’t take me three seconds to find out your name. All I’d have to do is go next door to the”—he turned his head and read through the window—“Flower Power Florist and ask.”
She poked his ribs. “That’d be cheating. Play my game, Bram.”
“Come on, you owe me. You stole my shirt.”
A smile curved her mouth. “Fair exchange. You ripped my dress.”
“So I did.” His low chuckle was tinged with sinful temptation. “Should I apologize?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Good. I don’t want to.”
She could plant her lips right on his and dip her tongue into his mouth. If she moved. One inch. A scant distance. He smelled of coffee, brisk wind and pure male. Her heart galloped in her chest, echoing a sudden pulse in her pussy. He oozed sex appeal like an over-wet sponge and she wanted to suck every drop. One damn inch was all she needed. She closed the gap.
Lust exploded. H
er ears popped with the force of the attraction, and a low sigh heated her mouth before he deepened the kiss to indecent levels. She could distinctly recall three kisses in her life—Bobby Allegro behind the gym in fifth grade, Cliff Meyers on prom night and Bram, on a makeshift fire-department parking-lot dance floor.
In the long months they’d been apart, she hadn’t forgotten his kiss. She was so screwed.
They have a history. A future may be more than she’s willing to give.
Two Step Temptation
© 2011 Emma Jay
Haven Reynolds is stunned when her ex-lover Eric Viera turns up at their mutual friends’ wedding. Her sources told her he was safely a continent away, doing his anthropology thing. Instead she’s scrambling to figure out how to fend off his particularly potent brand of charm.
At least, that’s what she tells herself.
Several months in a Costa Rican jungle hasn’t dulled Eric’s memory of the two weeks he spent with the sexy spitfire. He’d even enjoyed the challenge of breaking through her walls—the warm, passionate woman he’d uncovered had been worth the effort. He’d like nothing better than to pick up where they left off, except those walls are back in place, stronger than ever.
Much to Haven’s dismay, Eric takes her in his arms for a rehearsal-dinner dance. In a split second, it all comes back—the memories, the lust and laughter, the intimacy and control she’s never allowed any other man. Falling for him again is out of the question, but a weekend of hot sex is an indulgence she can’t resist.
