Never Have I Ever: Reynolds Pack, Book 1

by Alisha Rai

  “Hey, I was working my ass off in that living room.”

  Taylor initiated the hug, but Eli’s return squeeze was fierce. Eli clapped him on the back. “Speaking of which, though, I’m guessing that invitation won’t be repeated.”

  “Probably not. Also, you may want to be prepared for Ana not looking you in the eyes for a few years. Or decades.”

  “Worth it. It was nice to see what real mates are like with one another.”

  Taylor regarded his friend sympathetically, more than aware of how lucky he really was. “You’ll find someone soon. I’m certain. Someone who’s tough and strong and a real bitch. Just not stone-cold cruel like Lucy.”

  Eli shrugged, good-natured as always. “We’ll see. A guy can hope. In the meantime, I’ll figure out some way to get those pictures from Lucy quietly. The pack could care less, but our shareholders won’t be so happy if they get out. I can’t imagine it would make your life any easier either.”

  No, it wouldn’t. Even though they lived in Western New York and the pack’s corporation was based in Manhattan, Eli was just high-profile enough in society for it to affect all three of them. He didn’t worry too much about his own job, but Ana was a teacher, and it wouldn’t take long for it to be known that her husband was one of the guys in the pictures. “Deal with her however you want. But yeah, I want those pictures.”

  “Done.” Eli hoisted his duffel over his shoulder and opened the door. “Stay as long as you want here, by the way. Mi casa et su casa.”

  “Eli.”

  Ana’s voice startled them both. Taylor stepped aside and turned around to see his wife not far behind him.

  She took a step closer. “Make sure you call when you get home.” Her outfit, consisting of jeans and a sweater, was a far cry from last night’s femme-fatale ensemble, but his heart pounded harder just the same. Her cheeks were bright red, but her gaze was steady on Eli, belying his earlier prediction. Really, why was he surprised? He needed to stop underestimating his wife’s boldness.

  Eli’s eyes softened, something Taylor didn’t miss. The man had bodyguards, a pack who respected him and parents who loved him, but no-strings concern over his well-being from a female wasn’t something he received often. Taylor was selfishly glad that he and Ana had already decided to relegate the ménage to an erotic interlude, or he’d fear his best friend would eventually lose his heart to her. Who couldn’t love Ana?

  “I’ll be sure to do that,” Eli said gruffly.

  “Good. And…thank you for everything.”

  “My pleasure. See you both later.” He winked at her and then left, closing the door quietly behind him.

  “We could stay,” he said softly, staring at the door.

  “Hmm?”

  He turned to her, drinking in her beloved features, her familiar body. “Let’s stay. School doesn’t start for another week. I can call in sick. What do you say?”

  “I say…that’s the best idea you’ve had since the Ping-Pong paddle. Oh, here.” She tossed something at him and he instinctively caught it. His sweater?

  “What’s this for?”

  “I thought we could go out.” She opened the door to the hall closet and removed her coat.

  “In the snow?”

  Ana would make a mint if she could bottle and market those sultry glances. He felt that look like a lick of fire on his spine. She zipped and buttoned up her coat with deliberate motions. “I thought we could go for a run. I wanna see how fast you can go.”

  The saliva was drying up in his mouth. “Yeah?”

  Her boots were next, then her gloves, and his blood pumped faster with every inch of skin she covered. The last balled-up knit thing she withdrew from her coat pocket almost gave him palpitations. Oh Christ. Her ski mask. “Put the sweater on.”

  He sighed as he drew it over his head. “I don’t need it.”

  She frowned at him, an adorably bundled sex kitten, and pulled his superfluous coat out of the closet to toss it to him. “Damn it, I don’t care how superhuman you are. I’m not going to be sitting there worried about your exposure when we’re frolicking.”

  Love warmed him even more than his wolf DNA ever could. “I’ll give you a ten-second head start.” He drew the coat on, but left it hanging open. Didn’t matter…first chance he got, he was stripping it off.

  “That’s hardly fair, now that I know you can run so fast…”

  “One.”

  “You can’t be…”

  “Two.”

  With a little squeal, she darted out the foyer to the kitchen and back door. He didn’t bother to count, just stood there grinning like a fool as he listened to her leave. When he judged that he’d given her enough time, he walked to the back porch and leaned against the snowy railing.

  The snow had slowed her down, so she was barely at the edge of the clearing. Even if he couldn’t see her, she didn’t have the benefit of anything to wipe her tracks away, and they led in a straight, unmarred path right to her location.

  As if she sensed her mate, she turned and glanced over her shoulder. He could hear her yelp from his position on the porch.

  He straightened from the railing and stepped down to the ground, his lips curling in what he knew was a decidedly wolfish smile.

  She was right. There was no competition here, and it was very unfair.

  But fun. Very, very fun.

  With a loud growl, he launched himself into the snow and a whole new life.

  About the Author

  Alisha Rai has been enthralled with romance novels since she smuggled her first tattered Harlequin home from the library at the age of thirteen. There is nothing she loves more than penning sexy, emotional contemporaries and paranormals with larger-than-life heroes and smart, capable heroines.

  After a lifetime spent bouncing around the States, she is content to call sunny South Florida home for now. When she’s not reading or working, Alisha loves to hang out with her close-knit family. She happily lives in a chaotic house filled with clutter, laughter, good food, boisterous kids and very loud relatives.

  Alisha loves to hear from her readers. You can send her an e-mail at alishawrites@gmail.com or visit her on the web at www.alisharai.com.

  Look for these titles by Alisha Rai

  Now Available:

  Glutton for Pleasure

  Cabin Fever

  Veiled Series

  Veiled Desire

  Veiled Seduction

  Even the best-laid seductions can go awry.

  Veiled Seduction

  © 2010 Alisha Rai

  Veiled, Book 2

  Beneath Dr. Maira Khan’s reserved exterior, her heart beats triple-time for only one man: Sasha Karimi. For two years she’s waited patiently for the handsome police lieutenant to wake up and see her as more than a buddy. When he’s injured in the line of duty, though, she realizes time is too precious to waste. Ditching her scrubs—and her shyness—she cooks up her very first seduction.

  Sasha’s had a hell of a week. Thanks to the national media, amorous women are pouring out of the woodwork, all wanting a piece of America’s newest “hero”. The biggest disappointment? Maira seems to have contracted the same case of mass hysteria. Betrayed, he pushes her away—but not before he samples a taste of her luscious mouth and body.

  It works. Maira retreats, mortified and ashamed. And Sasha realizes he’s just driven away the perfect woman. Now all he needs is a foolproof plan to win her back, starting with a proper courtship—and restraining his lust. Except once Maira glimpses the man behind the uniform, she sets out to show him that pure need has its own ideas about what’s proper…

  Warning: Contains a brilliant heroine who knows how to take matters into her own hands, a sexy hero who knows how to win his woman, an awesome full-body massage, a tender romance and sizzling bedroom (and kitchen) shenanigans.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Veiled Seduction:

  “No man alive would say something like that.”

  Maira knew that S
asha had no idea why she so loved to watch chick flicks with him. She didn’t particularly care for the actual movie. It was his running commentary of incredulous scoffing and joking throughout.

  “Pansy.”

  Most people probably didn’t like talking during their movies, but since she had trouble sitting still for two hours at a time to begin with, it made the whole thing much more interactive and fun.

  “Why do women always have to remove their glasses when they get a makeover?”

  “I don’t know,” she said mildly.

  “It’s stupid.” He lifted a bite of the cheesecake dessert to her mouth, adding just the amount of ice cream that she liked. “Glasses aren’t an automatic turnoff to men.”

  “Hmmm.” Why had she wanted to go out again? This sitting close together and sharing-the-dessert bit was pure freakin’ genius. She accepted the bite he offered and savored the taste. Since the deep-fried cheesecake—God bless America—was enormous, they’d shared it before. But never on the same plate. With the same spoon. She didn’t just taste the luscious dessert, she tasted him on the silverware as well, and it was wonderful.

  Intimate. Yes, the whole night had been intimate. She cast him a sideways glance as he removed the spoon from her mouth. Maybe tonight…maybe tonight she could take advantage of this intimate setting, show him she was ready for more.

  Sasha must have felt her gaze, for he glanced at her and smiled. He dropped the spoon onto the now-empty plate and set it on the table. With a swift click, he paused the movie.

  Now. Do something, say something now. She sat frozen though, unable to think of anything sufficiently sexy. His arm came around her in a smooth move and he shifted closer so they were sitting hip to hip. “You have some cream on the corner of your mouth.”

  She started to raise her hand to wipe it off, but he stayed her. “No, let me.”

  He leaned in close, and Maira closed her eyes, her heart stuttering. Oooh, he was going to do the little licking-off-the-food thing in prelude to a kiss. She’d always found that wildly erotic and romantic. She waited for the touch of the tip of his tongue.

  Instead she got the full flat of it. Right on her cheek, as if he were a puppy bathing her face. She reared back in surprise. “What the…?”

  His eyes dancing with mischief, he sat back. “It’s off.”

  She shot him a dirty look and wiped off her cheek. “That’s not how you’re supposed to do it.”

  “Do what?”

  “The food-on-the-corner-of-the-mouth thing. You’re supposed to turn it into a kiss.”

  He looked both innocent and perplexed. “I know not of what you speak.” He leaned forward, dipped his finger into the remaining cream on their plate and swiped it over the corner of his own mouth before sitting back. “Show me.”

  He was daring her, and little-known fact, but Maira loved dares. Did he think just because she was a virgin, she knew nothing of sex? School had been a snap for her because she was an insane speed reader. Dirty books were her friend, and she was a fast learner.

  She’d just pretend. Pretend she wasn’t boring, staid Maira. It was doable.

  Before she could lose her courage, and before he could lower his hand to wipe it on the napkin in his lap, she caught it and brought it to her mouth.

  He inhaled sharply as she licked the cream off, boldly keeping eye contact with him. His eyes only briefly dipped down, and she knew the top button of her shirt had probably come conveniently undone.

  Once his finger was suitably clean, she drew it in to her mouth oh so slowly, her tongue darting around and rubbing against the underside of it. His shifted when she sucked it once, then again, strong pulls that brought the tip of his forefinger to the back of her throat.

  When she released him, it only took a glance down to see how aroused he was. The hard length of his penis distended the material of his slacks. Her nipples ached, her breathing had accelerated, and between her thighs, her panties rubbed up against the swollen tissues of her labia.

  She took a deep breath for courage, and then quickly turned and adjusted herself so she straddled his lap. His eyes widened, his hands coming up instinctually to grasp her hips.

  Though he looked surprised, he didn’t stop her. His dark eyes merely skated over her, from her disheveled shirt to his hands on her hips. Then he looked back up at her, waiting.

  She leaned in and made him jump by nuzzling his neck. She inhaled. Once she’d heard another woman say that she knew she had to marry her husband, because he was the only man who smelled good to her no matter what. Maira had discounted it then. What man smelled wonderful all the time?

  But after hanging around with Sasha, she understood what that meant. Even when he was sweaty from working out, she didn’t mind it, still found his scent appealing. And right now, with that mixture of cinnamon and bay rum, he smelled good enough to eat.

  This close to him, all of her thoughts and plans deserted her and she was reduced to her instincts. Following them, she flicked her tongue out to capture the cream at the corner of his mouth. His head turned and his lips opened as she delicately lapped at them.

  Their lips melded together. This…this was different from that first time a few weeks ago. Then, it had been all angry, storming passion. Now his lips were softer, gentler. Instead of pushing her where he wanted her to go, he only took as much as she was willing to give.

  Everything. I’ll give him everything.

  Something dead this way comes…

  That Voodoo You Do

  © 2010 Jodi Redford

  That Old Black Magic, Book 1

  For ten long years Griffin Trudeau has managed to keep his paws off Jemma Finnegan, best friend and leading star of his kinkiest fantasies. As her appointed cat familiar, indulging those fantasies with the delectable witch is strictly forbidden. But when Jemma shows up at his door with seduction in mind, control goes right out the window.

  Too late he realizes making love to Jemma is the trigger that launches a zombie apocalypse.

  Jemma’s been dealt a double whammy: she’s just discovered she’s a witch. And Griff has been hiding whiskers and a tail. Oh, and if her life wasn’t crazy enough, a dead voodoo queen needs her blood to raise a legion of zombies.

  There’s one plan that might work to increase Jemma’s powers so she can put an end to the looming holocaust. A sexy threesome with Griff and Logan Scott, a werewolf familiar with a history of rubbing Griff’s fur the wrong way. A cat and a wolf playing nice, much less sharing? It’ll take a miracle.

  Warning: A witch, tiger and wolf doing naughty things. A dead voodoo queen doing evil things. And zombies doing zombie things. Get your shovels ready.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for That Voodoo You Do:

  “So what’s going on in there?”

  Logan propped his elbow against the frame, giving her a close-up view of his barbed-wire tat. Now that she thought about it, the symbolism seemed appropriate. Tangling with the lusty werewolf was bound to leave a few scratches. “Just Clarissa taking care of some coven business. Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head over, darlin’.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “That managed to be both evasive and sexist.”

  “Damn, and here I wasn’t even tryin’.” He chuckled. Taking advantage of his momentary distraction, she reached around him for the doorknob. He scooted sideways, forcing her hand to smack into his abdomen instead. His bare, firm-as-marble abdomen. Her fingertips brushed the warm hollow of skin resting just above the low rise of his button fly. Sucking in a sharp breath, she yanked her arm away and shuffled back several steps.

  Logan’s irises shimmered with amusement and heat. “Don’t stop now. Things were just getting interesting.”

  “I, uh, just have to go and…um…yeah.” She spun and stumbled in the direction of the kitchen before she did something really stupid, like follow the silky trail of hair disappearing beneath the waistband of Logan’s jeans. With her tongue. That thought sent her tripping through the entry of
the kitchen. She jerked to a halt when she spotted Griff in front of the stove, stirring the contents of a large stockpot. He was notably shirtless too, which put the mouthwatering expanse of his back on dazzling display. She stared at the muscles shifting beneath all that golden, velvety skin, her suspicions bubbling. It was too damn weird and convenient that both Logan and Griff were standing around half naked all of a sudden. Unless some devious shirt monster was making its rounds in the neighborhood, there was definitely something afoot.

  And where was everyone else, anyway? She craned her neck, scoping the dining alcove for signs of Ms. Peach or Gloria.

  “Hey, baby. You’re just in time for a taste test.”

  She whipped her head around at Griff’s zippy tone. Now she knew something was up. Griff didn’t do chipper, particularly not thirty minutes after snarling at her like a pissed-off Tony the Tiger. “What the hell is going on?”

  Griff tried for a guileless look. Oh yeah, he didn’t do innocent well either. “I’m getting lunch ready.”

  “Without your shirt on?”

  “It’s hot in here.”

  Well…that was certainly true. Even without Griff’s muscle-icious torso making her girl parts all warm and tingly, there was no denying the temperature in the kitchen hovered between muggy and melt-your-panties-off miserable.

  Griff dug a spoon out of the drawer and ladled some of the sauce he’d been stirring. “Tell me if this needs anything.”

  Her intuition warning her to be on the lookout for any sneakiness, she hesitantly crossed to the industrial-sized, stainless-steel stove. She tried to wrestle the spoon from Griff, but he insisted on feeding her the concoction himself. Almost from the instant the tapestry of flavors met her tongue, a seductive ripple of heat unfurled inside her, tightening her nipples beneath the sundress’s snug, smocked bodice. Griff’s thumb traced the outline of her lower lip. Holding her gaze, he lifted his finger and slowly licked it clean. If the humidity didn’t melt the crotch of her panties, Griff demonstrating his perfect oral skills sure as hell would.