No Groom at the Inn: A Dukes Behaving Badly Novella
Page 13
An Excerpt from
I NEED A HERO
A Men in Uniform Novella
by Codi Gary
Sergeant Oliver Martinez joined the military to serve his country—not plan parties. But after a run-in with his commanding officer, Oliver is suddenly responsible for an upcoming canine charity event. Worse, he’s got to work with the bossiest, sexiest woman he’s ever met—who just happens to be the general’s daughter. When tempers flare and a scorching kiss turns into so much more, Oliver and Eve will have to decide if this attraction is forever . . . or just for now.
The dog bounded to her, wiggling and licking wherever he could. She held her hand behind her, and Oliver gave her the leash. Once she had it hooked onto Beast’s collar, she stood up with a mischievous smile. “I don’t know why he gives you so much trouble.”
“Oh, I’m sure Best put him up to it,” Oliver grumbled.
“Ah, and he gets a kick out of messing with you, huh?”
“That’s just because I’ve let it go until now, but the dude owes me a sofa and chair.”
Eve laughed and held the leash out to him. “I wonder if maybe you two just got off on the wrong foot. Perhaps you should open your mind to the possibility that Beast has issues and this is his way of dealing with them.”
Oliver took her advice with a healthy dose of skepticism. “What makes you think he has issues?”
“Well, for starters, he came from the animal shelter, so he’s got to have some baggage. The question is, was he turned in because he has behavioral problems and his previous owners just couldn’t deal? Or were the owners jackasses who just didn’t want him anymore?” Her tone was sad as she added, “If he was loved, it’s easy to assume that he is confused and misses it.”
Oliver studied Eve. Her dreamy, sweet expression tugged at his heart and he wondered who she was thinking about. A loved one she missed? A past lover? A bitter rush of jealousy churned in his stomach. He didn’t want to think about another man having even a sliver of Evelyn’s affections. Not when he wanted them all to himself.
“How is it you seem to know so much about what he’s feeling? Are you an event planner by day and dog psychic by night?” He had been trying to make a joke, but one look at her face told him he’d insulted her.
“I’m just making an observation,” she said curtly.
“Hey.” He reached out and touched her arm, turning her toward him. “I was just teasing you.”
She remained silent, and he took her chin in his hand, tilting her gaze up to meet his. “Why does it always seem like I can never say the right thing to you?”
A small smile played across those bee-stung lips. “Maybe I make you nervous.”
Oliver rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip and her sharp, warm breath spread over his skin. “Oh, you definitely make me nervous.”
“I do?” Her breathless question stirred his cock to life.
“Yeah, you do. I can’t relax around you, not with the way you make me feel,” he said.
“How is that?” Her tone was soft, and Oliver dipped his head, his mouth hovering over hers.
“Like I’m standing in the sunshine every time I’m near you,” he said.
“Oh.”
Oliver didn’t give her a chance to escape this time and covered her mouth with his, groaning as the sweet taste of her overwhelmed him. His hands slid back to cradle the back of her head, sliding his fingers into her hair and loosening her ponytail. A tiny sigh escaped her and he took advantage, slipping his tongue between her parted lips, coming undone when her tongue tangled with his. He felt her hands grip his waist, pulling him tighter against her body and he wanted more. Never had he gotten so caught up in one kiss. And never had he ignored every warning bell for a woman, but with Evelyn, it was like common sense went out the window and was replaced by uncontrolled passion.
Oliver felt something pushing between them and opened his eyes to look down at Beast, who was trying to use his giant head to separate them. Ignoring him, Oliver maneuvered them toward the couch, tumbling Eve down onto the mangled leather.
The kiss broke long enough for Eve’s eyes to pop open and she giggled. “Somehow, I never imagined making out on a cloud of couch stuffing.”
Oliver grinned down at her. “What can I say? I’m an original.”
“You’re definitely different,” she said.
“Is that a compliment?” His lips found the pulse point behind her ear and he felt her heart race against his mouth.
“I think so.”
“You don’t sound sure,” he murmured against her jaw.
“Probably ’cause I can’t think while you’re kissing me,” she whispered.
His mouth brushed hers. “Want me to stop?”
“God, no.”
An Excerpt from
BLUE BLOODED
A Benediction Novel
by Shelly Bell
In the next sexy and suspenseful novel from Shelly Bell, an investigative reporter and an ex-military Dom witness a murder outside of the sex club, Benediction, and uncover a deadly political conspiracy while trying to clear their names . . .
An Avon Red Impulse Novel
Puffing on his Cuban cigar, the Senator reclined in his chair, a tumbler of scotch on the rocks in front of him. He stared down the two men sitting on the other side of his desk, daring them to repeat the words that had just been uttered.
Sweating profusely, FBI Agent Seymour Fink tugged on his tie, his Adam’s apple bobbing above the buttoned collar of his shirt.
For a moment, the Senator considered retrieving his gun from his desk drawer and shooting the agent in the head, but he couldn’t risk getting blood or splatters of brain matter on his tuxedo. After all, he had an important dinner to attend in an hour and didn’t want to disappoint his wife.
He downed the rest of his drink, then shook the ice in the glass the way he’d like to shake the mobster who was fucking with him. “Tell me what you’re going to do to fix the problem,” he said calmly, unwilling to allow this minor bump in the road to waylay his plans.
“Do, sir?” Using the sleeve of his suit jacket, Agent Fink wiped the sweat from his brow, cigar smoke circling around his head like a boa constrictor. “I’m not certain we should do—”
“You listen to me, you little prick. There is nothing that will stand in my way.” The Senator hurled his tumbler against the wall above the fireplace, shattering the glass into a million tiny pieces. “Do you understand me? I’ve got your balls in a vise underneath my blade, so let’s try this again. What are you going to do to fix the problem?”
Seymour swallowed convulsively. “No one was supposed to get hurt.”
“Don’t pull that bullshit now. You knew when I approached you that lives would be lost for the greater good,” the Senator said. He handed off his cigar and nodded to the other agent, a bruiser of a man who he’d chosen not only for his twenty years of service to this country, but for his lack of empathy. Agent Richard Evans understood the risks involved in his job, the three bullets he’d taken in the chest a testament to that fact.
Evans pinched the fat cigar between his fingers and in a flash, locked his partner’s head under his arm, pinning Fink’s hands to the table and singeing the top of one with the foot of the cigar. Fink screamed, his smaller body thrashing wildly as he fruitlessly tried to escape from his partner and the pain he was inflicting.
The acrid scent of burnt flesh overpowered the cigar’s sweet one, a smell he would forever more attribute to power.
By the time Evans released him, Fink’s skin had turned pasty white, his shirt completely drenched from his sweat. He breathed heavily, nodding. “Consider the problem solved, sir. By this time tomorrow night, Rinaldi will be dead.”
The Senator leaned back in his chair and smiled.
God bless the USA.
Touring the
dungeon located in the basement of a private mansion, Rachel Dawson ignored the decadent sights and sounds of sex going on all around her and kept her eye on the prize. After working her ass off to gain entrance into Benediction, the prestigious sex club owned by Cole DeMarco, she was finally here.
Although it was early in the evening and most of the upstairs fantasy rooms were still vacant, she’d gotten to play the role of voyeur as she’d observed two different scenes. The “teacher” bending the “schoolgirl” over his desk and smacking her with a ruler had titillated her, but Rachel had remained a removed observer, her body not engaged by the fantasy.
Then she remembered she wasn’t at Benediction to fulfill her fantasies or to act as voyeur. She was there to do a story about BDSM and for that, she needed to go to the dungeon.
Unlike the fantasy rooms, the dungeon was packed. In here, the sights, smells, and sounds of passion and pain seduced her senses. The potent scents of leather, musk, and sweat teased her with the promise of sex. Everywhere Rachel looked, people indulged in their kinks without judgment or recrimination.
Her mouth grew dry at the sight of a naked woman suspended from the ceiling by rope and flowing white sheets, twirling as if she was an acrobat in a circus act.
Who had bound that woman? Was he here tonight?
An Excerpt from
BEST WORST MISTAKE
A Brightwater Novel
by Lia Riley
Sometimes the worst mistakes turn out to be the best . . .
Smoke jumper Wilder Kane once reveled in the rush from putting out dangerous wildfires. But after a tragic accident, he’s cut himself off from the world, refusing to leave his isolated cabin. When a headstrong beauty bursts in, Wilder finds himself craving the fire she ignites in him, but letting anyone near his darkness would be a mistake.
Quinn unzipped her jacket, pausing halfway. “You don’t mind, do you? Seeing as I’m staying, at least for a while.”
“No.” Yes. Because the minute she slid out of that white, puffy coat, her breathtaking body was on full display. Those snug-fitting jeans weren’t overtly sexy, but the way the denim contoured to the slight flare of her narrow thighs made him swallow. Hard.
It had been awhile since he’d been in the company of any woman who wasn’t a medical professional or intimately involved with his brothers. Also, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he had a type and this forward, strong-looking woman fit it right down to that thick wavy brown hair pulled back at the nape of her long, sexy neck.
Necks were underrated female geography. He loved how they tasted when he kissed them there, how they smelled as he nuzzled.
Equally fascinating was her lush mouth, how the corner remained quirked on one side despite the natural pout, as if in perpetual secret amusement.
This woman was bright, spunky, and happy, despite her father’s miserable situation. His heart sank. He had nothing to offer someone like her, not when his whole world had burned to cinder.
He shook himself inwardly, not moving a muscle. No point succumbing to the ugly truth, however true. Maybe he could pretend to be a normal guy for the night. Normal except for the scars, the missing leg, and the fact that he hadn’t spoken to a living soul since Sawyer dropped off his groceries six days ago, and was tongue-tied around strangers at the best of times.
Shit.
What would Archer do? His younger brother was good with people, especially the ladies. He’d navigate this situation like a pro.
She gave him a tentative smile, probably because he was staring at her like a loon.
Compliments. Women like compliments.
“Your teeth are real white,” Wilder blurted. God damn it, the words hung over them like a comic strip balloon. He wished for a string to grab on to, stuff the idiocy back into his mouth, swallow it down.
“Excuse me?” Her shoulders jerked as her lips clamped, clearly not anticipating the awkward flattery.
At least he hadn’t said how much he liked her neck. Yet.
COPYRIGHT
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Excerpt from One-Eyed Dukes Are Wild © 2015 by Megan Frampton.
Excerpt from Montana Hearts: Her Weekend Wrangler copyright © 2015 by Darlene Panzera.
Excerpt from Blue Blooded copyright © 2015 by Shelly Bell.
Excerpt from I Need a Hero copyright © 2015 by Codi Gary.
Excerpt from Best Worst Mistake copyright © 2015 by Lia Riley.
NO GROOM AT THE INN. Copyright © 2015 by Megan Frampton. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the *crane nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.
EPub Edition November 2015 ISBN: 9780062412980
Print Edition ISBN: 9780062412997
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