Mid Week Tease: Degree of Resistance #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, folks! I’m gearing up for the release of my new cyborg romance Degree of Resistance (Pacifica Rising 1), and it’s time to start posting some hot little teasers so that you know what you have to look forward to on February 21. The book is also available for pre-order on Amazon at a sale price of 99¢, so snag your copy now before it goes up to the regular price of $3.99.
Enjoy, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
A perfect society hiding a terrible secret. A betrayed man forced into mindless slavery. A woman willing to break all the rules to set him free.
Freelance tech Evie Contreras is part of the Employee class of the Pacifica Protectorate, the “perfect society” that rose on the West Coast after the breakup of the United States. But Evie knows all about Pacifica’s festering core and the secrets that keep it in power. And when she discovers that her fiancé has been turned into a cyborg slave by a sadistic protectorate officer, she will risk everything to rescue him.
Without a word he loosened the knot in the towel and let it fall. Let her look.
Her first thought was that he reminded her of a da Vinci nude she’d once seen, every muscle developed without unnecessary bulk and giving the impression of restrained power. His chest was the same from her memories at the pool, beautifully shaped pads of pectoral muscle and shoulders ending in curved deltoids that she wanted to grip. The same light scattering of blond chest hair narrowed to a trail that led down over trim abs to his navel and beyond.
His legs were those of a runner, lean muscle and tendon rising in powerful mounds at the backs of his calves, along the length of his thighs. The hair covering them was sparser, only slightly darker than the hair on his chest, and curled against his indoor-pale skin.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at his groin. The hair darkened here, turning sandy brown and curling in a springy nest around a well-shaped cock, neatly circumcised. It had thickened a little, judging from the way it stood out from his body, but wasn’t anywhere near full erection yet.
He laughed softly. “You should see your face,” he said. “You look like all your birthdays and Christmases came at once.”
“I think they just did.” There were no scars, no obvious signs that parts of his body were artificial. “You’re perfect.”
He glanced down at himself. “I think you may be a little biased, but thank you.” He looked back at her, pupils expanding until all the light blue had been pushed into a thin ring around each black pool. “You’re the one who’s perfect.”
He came to her and knelt, gently urging her knees apart so that he could move closer. She felt a flicker of embarrassment at the thought of him seeing her 30-year-old body nude, but couldn’t resist the pressure of his hands. Her heart raced as the belt on her robe loosened, falling to each side. The terrycloth gaped open, putting her on display the same way he’d done for her.
He didn’t say anything for a minute as he looked at her. The embarrassment she’d felt earlier was gone, banished by the naked worship in his eyes. “You’re everything I ever wanted.” His voice was husky. “You’re so beautiful, baby.”
She fought back the sudden urge to cry from sheer relief. “Kiss me. Please.”
He did, his chest pressing against her breasts as he slid the robe down her arms, his mouth sweetly devouring hers. She surrendered to the delicious sensation, every brush and teasing press lighting up her nerve endings like wildfire. When his tongue trailed along the soft inner flesh of her lips she opened them, welcoming him in. Between her thighs an echoing heat built and she could feel the first traces of slick wetness there.
It was the night in the front seat of the GoCar all over again, but this time they didn’t have to stop. And it was much better than the evening in the park hotel because now he knew who she was, who he was.
His tongue danced around hers before breaking away to lick at the roof of her mouth. Liquid fire ran through her body and she moaned into his mouth.
She leaned back for a breath and heard him chuckle. “Okay, so I like that,” she muttered, amused by his smugness.
“Good. I like making you moan, baby. Plan on doing a lot of it, to be honest.” He kissed his way down to her ear, doing something wickedly good to the spot underneath it and pulling another moan out of her.
Her breasts tightened, the nipples starting to ache. Two could play that game. She ran the tip of a finger lightly around the shell of his ear, ending by gently rubbing the lobe between her finger and thumb. The shudder that went through him confirmed a direct hit.
“Wench,” he muttered against her neck. “Evil, vicious wench.”
“And that’s the way you like it.”
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Posted on February 8, 2017, in Degree of Resistance, Mid Week Tease and tagged cyborg, Degree of Resistance, Mid Week Tease, nicola cameron, post-apocalyptic, romance, science fiction. Bookmark the permalink. 17 Comments.