Muscle for Hire

by Lexxie Couper

  The door opened to reveal Jeff standing on the sidewalk, grinning at him as he stepped out of the limo’s backseat. “Enjoy the movie, Aslin.”

  Camera flashes ignited in Aslin’s face, but he ignored them.

  Nick grinned at him. “Looking good, Uncle As,” he called, sliding his arm around Lauren’s waist.

  Dropping them both a quick nod of greeting, Aslin turned back to the limo and held out his hand to help his wife alight from the transport. “In case I didn’t mention it,” he murmured in her ear, smoothing his hand over the lush curve of her hip before settling it on the small of her back, “you look stunning tonight.”

  She smiled up at him. “You did. But feel free to say it again many times tonight if you like.”

  Aslin couldn’t help himself. He laughed. And the camera flashes fired around them.

  About the Author

  Lexxie Couper started writing when she was six and hasn’t stopped since. She’s not a deviant, but she does have a deviant’s imagination and a desire to entertain readers with her words. Add the two together and you get romances that can make you laugh, cry, shake with fear or tremble with desire. Sometimes all at once. When she’s not submerged in the worlds she creates, Lexxie’s life revolves around her family, a husband who thinks she’s insane, an indoor cat who likes to stalk shadows, and her daughters, who both utterly captured her heart and changed her life forever.

  Contact Lexxie at lexxie@lexxiecouper.com, follow her on Twitter www.twitter.com/lexxie_couper or visit her at www.lexxiecouper.com where she occasionally makes a fool of herself on her blog.

  Look for these titles by Lexxie Couper

  Now Available:

  Death, the Vamp and his Brother

  The Sun Sword

  Tropical Sin

  Suck and Blow

  Triple Dare

  Dare Me

  Love’s Rhythm

  Suspicious Ways

  Savage Australia

  Savage Retribution

  Savage Transformation

  Coming Soon:

  Dark Embrace

  His music moves the world. Can his love move her heart?

  Love’s Rhythm

  © 2012 Lexxie Couper

  Nick Blackthorne knows all about words of love. They’re the reason he’s the world’s biggest rock star. The irony? He turned his back on love a long time ago, lured away by the trappings of fame.

  An invitation to a friend’s wedding is a stark reminder of how meaningless his life has become. When he enters that church, there’s only one woman he wants on his arm—the one he walked out on a lifetime ago. But first he has to find her, even if all she accepts from him is an apology.

  Kindergarten teacher Lauren Robbins once had what every woman on the planet desires. Nick. Their passion was explosive, their romance the stuff of songs…and it took fifteen years to get over him. Then out of the blue Nick turns up at her door, and all those years denying her ache for him are shattered with a single, smoldering kiss.

  But molten passion can’t hide the secret she’s kept for all these years. Because it’s not just her heart on the line anymore…and not just her life that’ll be rocked by the revelation.

  Warning: Remember your first crush on a rock star? Now add smoldering sex, a raw and undeniable passion, soul-shattering orgasms. And secrets…

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Love’s Rhythm:

  “Hello, Lauren,” a deep male voice said behind her.

  Lauren squealed. An honest to goodness squeal. At the same exact second she spun on her heel and swung her satchel, weighed down with two textbooks, her uneaten lunch, car keys, half-empty water bottle, twenty-two hand-drawn self-portraits tucked in a sturdy cardboard folder, her purse and her iPad.

  The satchel smashed into the temple of the man standing behind her.

  There was a solid thud, a surprised oof, followed by an even more surprised, “shit, that hurt,” before the man went down like a bag of bricks, collapsing to the ground in one fluid, graceful drop. No, not just the man, the rock star. The rock star the whole world idolised, the one who’d grown up in this very parochial town with her.

  The rock star who’d stolen her heart in that life she refused to think about.

  Lauren’s mouth fell open. Her pulse turned into a sledgehammer. She stared at the motionless man lying at her feet, refusing to believe what her eyes were telling her. Nick Blackthorne was here in Murriundah, and she’d rendered him unconscious with the very satchel he’d given to her fifteen years ago.

  “Oh, no.”

  The words were a whispered breath. She dropped to her knees, the ground’s winter-damp seeping through the linen of her trousers as she reached out with one hand and gave Nick’s shoulder a gentle push. “Nick?”

  He didn’t move.

  Oh boy, Lauren, you’ve KOed the world’s biggest rock star.

  She shoved him again, a little harder this time. “Nick?”

  He didn’t make a sound. Not a bloody one.

  “Shit.”

  Her heart slammed into her throat, just as hard as the satchel had hit his head. She licked her lips and brushed a strand of his black hair from his forehead. He was just as gorgeous as always. Older, yes. He was almost thirty-seven after all, but the years looked good on him, so good. In fact, they suited him. When he’d been a teenager, he’d been god-like in his beauty. When he was in his twenties, that god-like beauty had verged on painful to look at. She’d spent many nights lying in the bed they’d shared for a year and a half, gazing at him while he slept, wondering at his perfection, her belly knotting with love, her sex constricting with longing. And then it had become just her bed, Nick nothing but a ghost in her heart.

  She’d stopped reading articles about him somewhere in his late twenties, knowing each one would only make her stupid heart ache. But it was impossible to avoid seeing images of him. He kept popping up on the national news. Australia loved one of their own, especially when they’d won a Grammy or Billboard Award, or when they were dating Hollywood royalty or British royalty, something Nick Blackthorne seemed to do on a regular basis. Even worse was the local Murriundah Herald, the small newspaper constantly keeping the town aware of their famous son and his activities. Those images were hard to escape, and when she had let herself stare at them for longer than a heartbeat, she’d noticed his late twenties and early thirties only elevated his looks to a lived-in sexiness. The tiny seams around his eyes, the lines by his nose, they all heightened what she’d never forgotten—Nick Blackthorne was a sexy, sexy man. And now here he was, unconscious on his side in the Murriundah Public School’s muddy playground, looking even sexier than she remembered.

  Damn it, what was he doing here? What the hell was he doing back here?

  For me?

  She frowned, shaking her head at the notion. No. Nick wouldn’t be here for her.

  Could be. Isn’t that what you’ve dreamed about for the last fifteen years?

  Her frown turned into a scowl. No, it bloody well wasn’t. She had moved on. She wasn’t still the naïve young woman with impossible fantasies and fairy-tale wishes of happy-ever-afters. And if he was here for her—her heart smashed harder into her throat at that thought—he could bloody well bugger off. The last thing she wanted was—

  He groaned. A barely audible noise deep in his chest.

  Lauren started, a tiny yelp slipping from her. “Nick?”

  She nudged his shoulder again, but the groan was about it. “Well, at least I know I didn’t kill you,” she muttered, giving him a glare. He lay there on the cold ground, long, lean body decked out in black jeans, a black shirt and a black leather jacket she knew would cost more than she earned in a month.

  Lauren rubbed at her mouth. What was he doing here? And was he alone? Surely he travelled with an entourage? A bodyguard? She’d seen enough paparazzi images of him to know there was usually a hulking great big guy shadowing him wherever he was. Where was that guy?

  She sat back on her haun
ches, studying the empty playground around her. There were no massive hulking great big guys running at her, which meant she would have to deal with the unconscious Nick.

  A tight twisting sensation stirred in the pit of her belly and she bit back a groan. She was not going to get all horny and excited at the idea of dealing with Nick. Besides, there wasn’t a hope in hell she could lift him by herself and carry him to her car, even if she wanted to. At five-foot-six and one-hundred-and-thirty pounds wringing-wet, she wasn’t exactly the lugging-unconscious-rock-stars-around type even if said unconscious rock star had more than once lay full-length atop her in bed, on the living room floor, the kitchen bench, the—

  Lauren slapped her hands to her face, killing the utterly insane train of thought. God, was she an idiot? What the hell was she doing thinking about Nick making love to her?

  “You a masochist, Lauren Robbins?” she snarled under her breath, grabbing at her satchel/instrument of destruction before digging her phone from its lethal contents.

  She turned it on, keying in Jennifer’s number. Hopefully, her best friend was sticking with Friday-afternoon tradition and had closed her vet clinic early. Jennifer was used to dealing with heavy, unresponsive animals, being the only vet in the district. Dealing with an unconscious Nick Blackthorne would be a breeze.

  “I’ve got the margaritas chilling in the fridge already,” Jennifer Watson said the moment the connection was made, not bothering with any kind of greeting. “Tell Josh you’ll be home later than normal tonight.”

  “I’ve got a problem, Jen,” Lauren answered, trying hard not to let her gaze roam over Nick. Trying but failing, damn it.

  “What’s up? And if you tell me you’re marking school books I’m coming over there to thump you.”

  “I’m not marking school books, Jen.” Lauren rolled her eyes. “Now shut up and listen carefully.”

  Jennifer made a dramatic ooh sound before laughing. “Okay, Miss Robbins, I’m listening. What’s your boggle?”

  Lauren bit at her bottom lip. “Umm, you know how I told you I once dated Nick Blackthorne?”

  Jennifer let out a sharp snort. “You mentioned it in passing years ago and never let me bring up the subject again. Is this a confession? Did you lie to me? Or are you going to tease me some more with tales of your past? Did you also date Hugh Jackman? Guy Pearce? Geoffrey Rush?”

  Lauren laughed, rolling her eyes. “No, I didn’t. But I did date Nick Blackthorne.”

  “And I’m going to say the same thing I said when you told me before—lucky bitch. Now tell me what’s up?”

  Lauren took a deep breath. “Well, he’s here now.”

  Silence answered her. For a good twenty seconds or so. Then Jennifer said, “Nick Blackthorne is here?” Her voice, normally calm and laced with mirth, like she knew a really funny joke and was on the verge of sharing it, raised an octave. “In Murriundah?”

  Lauren gazed at Nick’s face, his stormy-grey eyes shuttered by thick black lashes resting on cheekbones high and strong. A decidedly purplish bruise was beginning to make itself known on the side of his face. “In Murriundah,” she answered on a sigh.

  Jennifer made a strangled little sound. “And?”

  “And I just knocked him unconscious in the school playground.”

  “What the—”

  Lauren jerked the phone from her ear.

  “What the hell do you mean you just knocked him unconscious?” Jennifer continued, her voice far from calm and loud enough Lauren could hear each word even with the phone nowhere near her ear. “Why? With what? And why? Jesus Christ, Robbins, who are you really and what—”

  Lauren returned her phone to her ear. “Jenny!” she snapped, “I don’t have time right now. I need your help. I can’t move Nick by myself and I can’t leave him on the ground. He’ll catch a cold—”

  “A cold?” Jennifer interrupted. “You can’t leave him on the ground because he’ll catch a cold? How ’bout you can’t leave him on the ground because he’s Nick Blackthorne?”

  The hottest presents are stripped down under a palm tree.

  Caribbean Christmas

  © 2012 Jenna Bayley-Burke

  Under the Caribbean Sun, Book 1

  When Saskia snags a last-minute ticket to her home island of Anguilla, she intends to surprise her workaholic father with a chance to reconnect over Christmas. When she finds Dutch is away on business, there’s still plenty to fill her time while she waits. Sailing, snorkeling…and an unexpected, very adult attraction to her girlhood crush.

  In Joe Prinsen’s view, there’s only one reason Saskia would drop in after being away for eight years. Sure she’s following her mother’s example to come and ask for money, Joe feels it’s time she learns the truth about Dutch’s dire financial straits. And he intends to make sure she sticks around long enough to hear it. From Dutch himself.

  Except the impulsive Saskia takes all his noble intentions and unwraps them, one by one, until Joe finds himself in hot water. Saskia’s only home for Christmas. And once she finds out the secret he’s hiding, and why, she’ll probably leave the Caribbean for good.

  Warning: Sex on the beach can be a sandy pastime, one that could lead you, and your heart, in hot water.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Caribbean Christmas:

  She grinned. “This is where I learned to swim, because it is so shallow.” She made her way to him, her desire for his touch growing with each measured step.

  “What else did you learn on this island, Sass?”

  “The basics of a happy life. The older you get, the more complicated things become. Here things were simple. Do what makes you happy.”

  “If only we could stay kids, right?” His smile seemed a little sad, wistful even, as she stopped in front of him.

  “I’ve come back around to that same way of thinking. If something doesn’t make you happy, it’s not worth your time.”

  He scoffed. “That’s not very practical. People need jobs so they can support themselves. There are things that need to be done that no one enjoys. It’s a good principle, but not realistic.”

  “Really, this from a self-professed beach bum? What have you done today that you didn’t want to do?” She stood before him, the water tickling between her thighs.

  “I’ve kept my hands off you, for one.” The moonlight set his strong features in shadow as he trailed his gaze from her face down her body, his nostrils flaring as he licked his lips. He raised one hand from the water and traced around her navel. She sucked in a breath as he toyed with her belly-button ring, sending ribbons of pleasure deep within her.

  “Were you waiting for permission? Is that your kink? You want to be told what to do?” She squeezed her inner muscles together as heat flushed there. She had a list of things he could do to her, and if he made her wait too long they’d turn into demands.

  “You are awfully interested in my kinks. Are you fishing for me to ask what yours are?”

  She felt the water move before his hands grasped her thighs. He looked up at her with an intensity that made her stomach flip and her womb clench. His wet palms slid up her body and he gripped her hips, his thumbs strumming the three ties of her thong. Each pass vibrated the crocheted flowers ever so slightly, turning her on even more.

  “Or are you trying to figure out just what to do to drive me wild?”

  “I’m encouraging you to do what makes you happy, whatever that might be.” She placed her hands on his shoulders to steady herself, the rush of arousal making her want to fall into the water on top of him. But she wasn’t confident enough that he wasn’t teasing her. This intense connection they had made everything feel as if more was happening between them than physical attraction.

  He shook his head but didn’t release her. “Show me how to make you happy, schatje.”

  It would be her pleasure. On instinct, she scanned the deserted beach just in case. Finding no one, she decided to go for broke. Reaching her arms behind herself, she unhooked the bandeau. She
held it up with one hand and watched his expression as his chest rose and fell on a ragged breath.

  And with that, she knew he wasn’t playing a game. He wanted her. The knowledge sent power coursing through her veins, heightening her arousal and boldness. Moving her arms slowly, she slid the top into her bikini ties so it wouldn’t float out to sea. Her fingers brushed against his as she secured it, but he didn’t release her.

  His grip tightened as she stood and pulled her shoulders back, letting the moonlight dance across her bare skin. She often wished she had more to fill out a top, but she had to admit that what she had going on looked damned good right now. He leaned closer, his hot breath teasing her like a caress. His hands, warm from the water, slipped up her torso to her rib cage. He ran his thumbs around her areolas until her nipples puckered into tight peaks.

  “I didn’t expect these.” He flicked her nipple rings with his thumbnails and a flash of sharp pleasure rushed through her body. She gripped his shoulders to steady herself. “Do you have any more for me to find?”

  She shook her head, too afraid if she opened her mouth to speak she’d beg him to do something, anything to build this delicious sensation. He flicked the rings again and she dug her fingers into the hard muscles beneath his smooth skin. Maybe she would beg.

  “What do they feel like?” His words were a graveled whisper as he leaned closer, his mouth right there. “Do you only feel them here?”

  He lightly touched one ring with his thumb, lifting it up and down, up and down.

  “Or does everything lead back here?”

  He skimmed his other hand down her body and pressed his thumb directly on the juncture of her thighs, right over her clit. The pressure felt like both a relief and a build-up of more to come.