Author Archives: Nicola Cameron
My brain hurts
This is my word count for the day, and that’s on top of getting a half hour in on the treadmill and making dinner. I figure the target is a lie and I have at least another 7.5K to go. My brain hurts, but I’m so close to the end I can taste it.
State of the Author
Mrgh. Does “headless chicken” count as a status report?
As of Friday Lady of Thorns became available for pre-order on Amazon, and I just got the pre-order notice from Kobo a few minutes ago. Release date is 10/31, and I’m currently plowing through edits and getting PR graphics and info lined up. As soon as I have ARCs ready I’ll be sending those out to my sweet, sweet group of volunteer readers.
The picosecond I’m done with this I have to turn around and get back to work on Cross Current because I want that done and off to Evernight before November, which is when I plan on tackling Uncertainty Principle (Pacifica Rising 2) and Shifter Woods: Snarl. I’m also going into the doctor (yet again) this week because I clearly have a sinus infection now and it’s dragging me down like you would not believe and I do not have TIME for that right now, dammit.
And for some reason 4/5 of the J Crew are being complete pains in the butt right now. I see a lot of coffeeshop time in my near future at this rate.
Oh, and Evernight’s Lawless antho with my short story “Gentleman Jackson” will be out in November, and I’ll be doing promo for that as well. If you want to see a little snippet of the story, read on. In the meantime, back to work for me, tra la (weekend? What means this word, weekend)…
Mid Week Tease: Gentleman Jackson #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, lovelies! This week I’m teasing you with a another snippet from the short story “Gentleman Jackson,” which will be in Evernight Publishing’s new romance anthology Lawless. Colton Jackson is a hitman from Shreveport, Louisiana who accepts a contract on a shady Dallas lawyer, but when the lawyer’s secretary witnesses the hit things get complicated. It doesn’t help that Ria Guzman turns out to be the younger sister of one of the most powerful gang leaders in the US. What’s a gentleman hitman to do? Take her into his own form of “protective custody,” of course.
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Colton pulled his hand out, tugging at her rucked skirt. “Take this off, baby girl.”
Obediently Ria wiggled out of it, sprawling naked across her bedspread. He gazed in admiration, drinking in her beauty. “Letting a woman like you wear clothes is a downright sin. You’re meant to be as bare as Eve, and just as beautiful.”
“Thank you. I think.” She poked at him with a toe. “So why are you still dressed?”
She had a point. Kicking off his shoes, he skinned out of his shirt and tie, then paused with a hand on his belt buckle. “Hold on.”
He slid the gun and silencer out from the back of his waistband, considering the room. Leaving it on the bedside table where she could reach it was asking for trouble, but putting it on the dresser was farther than he liked. He compromised by pushing down his pants and briefs in one tangled bundle, leaving them on the floor and placing the gun on top. His newly released cock bobbed and he swore he heard the damn thing sigh in relief.
Ria’s eyes widened as she took in his pride and joy. “Mierda. What are you, part bull?”
“Bullheaded, according to my momma.” He wrapped a hand around his cock, squeezing firmly. The veins stood out even more and the head swelled, looking like a dark red mushroom over the thick shaft. “Told you I’m gonna make you come at least two more times. And this is gonna help me do just that.”
She squirmed on the soft bedspread, staring at him as she unconsciously rubbed her thighs together. “I don’t know. That thing’s a monster.”
“Don’t worry about a thing. Remember, I had my tongue in your pussy. I know you can take it.” He slipped a hand between her thighs, urging them wider and paddling his fingers in the sticky wetness coating her flesh. She was tight, yeah, but she wasn’t a virgin. As long as he went slow and let her get used to him, it would be all right.
He rolled between her legs, letting his cock rest in her warm cleft as he push-dragged it across her clit. Her eyes closed in pleasure and he was tempted to do the same, but it was too sweet watching her react to him. She coated him in her wetness, and he was about to slide back and start easing his way in when her eyes flew open. “Wait. Condom.”
“Damn. Hold on.” Rolling to the edge of the bed, he fumbled for his wallet and the three-pack he always kept there. Pulling one of the squares free, he opened it and fished out the XL condom, rolling it down over his aching shaft.
Getting back into position, he reached down and guided the tip of his latex-covered cock between her pussy lips into tight, wet heaven.
She sucked in a breath, wincing at the stretch. Fighting his eagerness, he slowed down, letting her get used to his girth. Inch by inch, he buried himself inside her in increments until she was snugged down around him. “Good?”
Her hips rolled experimentally, and she gave him a sunburst smile. “Uh-huh.”
“Thank Christ, because my head’s about to explode.”
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Mid Week Tease: Lady of Thorns #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, lovelies! This week I’m teasing you with yet another snippet from the third book in my Two Thrones series, Lady of Thorns. By this point Alain’s sensual education of Amelie has progressed admirably — perhaps too admirably. I believe a certain lawyer’s heart may be thawing just a bit towards his fractious, sexy student, muwahahaha…
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Alain had set Colombe onto the task of procuring some soft cotton rope. His clerk had performed admirably as usual, and a hank of the stuff, neatly cut into useful lengths, now resided under the pillows.
But erotic restraint required a certain mindset for both parties to enjoy it, and he’d nettled Amelie with his questions about young Vandenberghe. His concern was honest; the earl’s heir was certainly handsome enough, and his blood made him an appropriate candidate for the Lady’s Consort, but there were neither shared interests nor frisson between Amelie and Vandenberghe the Younger. A pretty face would pall if there was nothing interesting behind it; with that lack of connection, Alain feared that Amelie would wind up turning to a lover for comfort within the first year.
And it won’t be me. By that point he would be back in Mons, pursuing his legal career and his next bed partner. There was nothing more than physical attraction between the two of them, he was aware of that, but he was surprised to find that he wanted her … happy.
He tugged her into his arms, brushing a soft kiss across her lips. She responded, molding against him with that mind-melting ease that made him re-consider the hidden ropes. No, another time. I know what I want to do with my spirited little minx tonight.
He eased the nightgown from her shoulders, kissing them as each one was bared. “Have you ever heard of soixante-neuf?”
She blinked up at him. “I have not. I wasn’t aware there were that many positions.”
“It’s not a number so much as a description of what the participants look like.” He smiled at her confused expression. “Let me remove my clothes and I’ll demonstrate.”
He stripped quickly, laying his breeches and shirt across the footboard of the bed while Amelie crawled onto the golden velvet bedspread. The color lent a glow to her pale skin and dark hair, making her look like an otherworldly goddess waiting to receive her due devotion. He felt himself thicken in anticipation, but didn’t try to encourage his erection more than that.
He joined her on the bed, stretching out in such a way that they were roughly top to tail. It gave him a wonderful view of the dark moss that crowned her mound, with a hint of the feminine cleft at the bottom. “This position allows the participants to enjoy each other orally at the same time.”
“I see.” She reached out and stroked his shaft, running a fingertip around the edge of the head. “Oh, I see. Sixty-nine. Yes, we would look like the numbers, wouldn’t we?”
“Indeed.” He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against her crispy curls, following it up with a kiss. He could already smell her desire, warm and humid, and looked forward to dipping his tongue in her honey. “Granted, it’s not as straightforward as lying back and receiving your lover’s attentions and then returning the favor, but I find the distraction rather useful in extending the festivities.”
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Medical Stuff
(Ceit, you should be interested in this one. All others, medical details that involve a scalpel and blood lie ahead, so peel off now if that sort of thing bothers you.)
Just in case you thought a romance writer’s life was one of unending glamour and delight, allow me to pop your bubble and assure you that it’s nothing of the sort. Witness today, when I went in to my doctor’s office to have an epidermoid cyst removed from my upper back. Basically, an epidermoid cyst is a buildup of keratin under your skin, sometimes caused by an injured follicle. It’s benign, slow-growing, usually painless, and very common, but I kept noticing it over the past two months and finally thought, nah, I want it gone.
I already knew the procedure, but the doctor was kind enough to explain everything as he went along (he seemed a little surprised that I wasn’t saying ow or complaining about the lidocaine needle. I explained that I used to work in a Peds ER department, medical procedures didn’t scare me, and as long as I was numb I didn’t care what he did). After injecting some lidocaine to numb the skin, he made a small incision, broke up the cyst and removed it, cleaned out the space left behind (super tiny, maybe the size of a pea) and packed it with sterile gauze. It was small enough that I didn’t need a stitch, and my beloved Ramón will be called upon to remove the packing over the next two days, after which I keep it bandaged and treated with antibiotic ointment and all will be well.
Plus I’ll have a tiny little scar as a souvenir, which I will have to come up with an interesting cover story for. Hmm. Oh, and be grateful that I didn’t take the advice of a friend on Twitter and have a nurse film the procedure for your entertainment. Because there’s openness, and then there’s openness…
Mid Week Tease: Lady of Thorns #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, lovelies! This week I’m back to Lady of Thorns for my teasing snippet (mainly because I’m on deadline to finish it by Friday and yeah, WHEE). Amelie is back in Alain’s bedroom for more one-on-one instruction when he mentions an, um, advanced course of study. Ahem.
Oh, and yes, that is a Star Wars in-joke there. I do love my meta pop culture references…
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
Alain got to his feet when he heard the scratching on the door. It opened and Amelie peered around the oak panel. “May I come in?”
He couldn’t stop the curl of anticipation that went through him. “Yes, please.”
Tonight she wore the same plain wrapper she had the night before, but when she undid the belt and let it slide off her shoulders he almost swallowed his tongue. Underneath she wore a short, silky gown of pale yellow with a low décolletage that framed her collarbones and the subtle curves of he breasts. Lower down it clung to her hips, and he imagined he could see the pink dots of her nipples and the dark fluff at the tops of her thighs through the delicate material.
“I’d forgotten I had this,” she admitted, draping the wrapper over a chair and walking into his arms. “It’s one of my ceremonial gowns from when I was younger. Do you like it?”
The way he was rapidly swelling in his breeches was physical proof of that, and he pressed his groin against her. “You are absolutely luscious. Although I have to wonder why a girl was wearing something so revealing.”
“It was an overgown. I wore a white chemise underneath.” She draped her arms around his neck and sighed happily. “Although I have to say, I much prefer wearing it this way. It’s extremely soft, don’t you think?”
He groaned as she executed a little shimmy against his throbbing cock. “You’re a minx, woman. It’s soft and very lovely, but I’d much rather be touching your skin.”
“I see.” Another wiggle. “The nice thing about this gown, counselor, is that it’s short. Quite easy to lift.”
He was never one to overlook a hint. Sliding his hands down, he gathered the hem of the gown and pulled it up until he’d bared her firm, silky rump. “If you continue to be this naughty, I may have to spank this beautiful bottom of yours.”
The glint in her eye turned challenging. “You might find that something of a challenge.”
He stroked the lovely curves, gently pinching one. “Not if I tied you to my bed first.”
A soft inhalation and a widening of her eyes was his answer. Interesting. She likes a bit of spice with her lovemaking. “Would you enjoy that?” he purred.
“I … I don’t know.” But her sped-up breathing and the color in her face indicated otherwise.
Tying a beautiful woman up and turning her into a writhing bundle of sexual need was one of his favorite activities. “I’d be very careful and use the softest ropes so that your skin wouldn’t carry a mark. But you wouldn’t be able to move when I was done. You would be completely at my mercy, your body turned into my own personal playground. And believe me, Amelie, I would play with you for hours until you begged me for release.”
She shivered deliciously at his words. “I don’t know if I could stay quiet if you did that.”
“Oh, a soft cotton gag would mute any noise you made.”
“Then how could I beg you?”
He brushed his lips over her ear. “You would whimper, of course. Widen your eyes and plead with me silently. Strain against your bonds towards my hands, my mouth, my cock. There are all kinds of ways you can beg without words.”
That lovely scent of fruit and cream from her skin deepened, taking on a hot note of mulled cider, and she squirmed. “You’re a wicked man, counselor.”
“Mm, I know.” He pushed his thigh between hers, gently rubbing against her heated flesh. “It’s why you like me, my lady. You need more wicked men in your life.”
She groaned as his hands cupped her ass, squeezing. “I like nice men, too.”
“I can be nice. Allow me to demonstrate.”
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Marvelous Monday Reads: Abel’s Obsession
Welcome to another edition of Marvelous Monday Reads, pumpkins! Today I’m featuring Lynn Burke and her hot new romance novel Abel’s Obsession. And now, here’s Lynn to answer some questions!
Abel Beiler’s story came about while visiting my parents in Amish country this past April. While leaving for home early Sunday morning, I pulled up to a stop sign at a four-way intersection as horses labored to pull their Amish owners and families in their buggies to Sunday worship.
One young man in an open buggy sat to my right at the stop sign, unsmiling, leaning forward, elbows on knees and reins slack in his hands. I had this overwhelming urge to smile at him, trying to bring a little sunshine to his miserable countenance.
My plan didn’t work, and even though I was in an SUV with 3 children, the idea of Abel and Dani slammed into my brain, occupying my thoughts the whole way home. I voice-to-text in my phone’s notepad off and on the entire seven hour ride back to Massachusetts as Abel whispered his struggle to find himself in my brain.
Abel’s Obsession is by far the raunchiest story I’ve written to date, and I’m hoping the most eye-opening as well. An oppressed life isn’t a joyful one, and finding the strength to free yourself isn’t always easy. Neither is the choice to take wing and fly.
A young man of religious fervor and self-control, Abel Beiler has every intention of honoring his parents and being baptized into the Amish church. The woman with red curls and flashing green eyes in the back of a convertible, however, makes Abel wonder what life with the English might be like.
He strives to withstand temptation, but the memory of the woman he yearns to dominate, coupled with the explicit images in his cousin’s filthy magazine, threatens his restraint.
Red, his sinful obsession, haunts his shameful dreams and becomes a secret part of his life. When faced with truth beyond faith, Abel must decide where he belongs—with the Amish community, or the woman who owns his heart.
Story Excerpt
Much later and hoarse from singing for two hours, my curiosity overrode my better sense, and I followed Eli into the hayloft of their barn. While I held the kerosene lamp, he climbed high into the rafters and returned with a magazine clutched in his hand.
“Got this from my new English friend, Toby.” He sat on a bale, opened the magazine, and turned it toward me.
Lust kicked me in the gut, and I couldn’t speak.
A naked woman lay spread eagle and bound by ropes to a bed, a blindfold and some sort of ball gag in her mouth. A man loomed over her, whip in hand. Tear streaks lined the woman’s face. Red slashes marked her thighs. Wetness coated the pink folds of her sex, glistening, and set my mouth to watering.
The image burned into my brain—submission in an entirely different way than the Old Order’s definition of the word. Spirituality is submission, is what had been reiterated in my ears since childhood. Self-surrender. The willingness to give up oneself to the community and Gott’s chosen leaders.
I soaked in the sinful picture, and for the first time in my life wanted power. Wanted control. I wanted a woman’s submission like the man in leather beside her owned. Unable to tear my gaze off the image, I struggled to swallow.
“Didn’t know people actually did this shit.”
Eli’s curse, the first I had heard from him, barely registered past the blood rushing in my ears. My body tensed as longing to be the man standing over that woman, whip in hand raced through me faster than any thoroughbred—or car.
The image of Red flashed in my mind, and suddenly it was her bound to the bed in the picture, breathing heavily, trembling, and begging for me…
Where to Buy
Evernight Publishing | Amazon US | Amazon UK
About the Author
Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.
Website | Blog | Facebook | Twitter | Amazon | Instagram | Goodreads
Fabulous Friday Reads: On a Dark Tide
TGIF! Let’s kick off the weekend with Naomi Clark’s hot new Romance on the Go story, On a Dark Tide, now available from Evernight Publishing and other purveyors of fine online fiction. Take it away, Naomi!
Thanks for having me here today! I’m excited to share my latest Romance on the Go, ON A DARK TIDE, a story I constantly (and probably annoyingly) referred to as the Creepy Ocean Story whilst writing it. I’m a mermaid at heart. I love the ocean, whatever the season, whatever the weather. Nothing makes me feel as at peace or inspired as sitting by the shore. ON A DARK TIDE is one of several stories and books I’ve written with the ocean at its heart, and it won’t be the last.
ON A DARK TIDE also let me touch on something else I love – true crime and unsolved mysteries. I have a fairly long commute to work each day, and I usually pass the time by listening to podcasts. Delving into truly strange and puzzling stories of disappearances helped me shape the background of Piper and Cam’s story, and hopefully you’ll enjoy delving into the mystery of Dina Mackay with them!
True crime podcasters Piper and Cam have travelled to the sleepy seaside town of Findlay to investigate the disappearance of a woman nearly a decade ago. The theories are wild—everything from murder to mermaids, and Piper is determined to get to the truth.
Battling her fear of the ocean, Piper soon realizes Findlay has deeper, darker secrets than she could ever have believed. As she struggles to master her fear and deal with her unrequited love for Cam, Piper is lured into perilous waters. The truth waits beneath the waves—and Piper’s fate waits with it.
Story Excerpt
“Cam,” Piper said again, almost wailing it as Cam took off back up the shore toward the town. Piper started after her, got her feet tangled in those grabby strands of seaweed, and toppled over. She landed face-first in the sand, grit and water-worn stones digging into her palms. “Shit!”
She lay there for a few seconds, berating herself for being so stupidly tongue-tied. Then she picked herself up and hugged herself against the bitter cold wind rushing off the waves. She could fix this.
All she had to do was run after Cam and say … something. She didn’t know what, though. She still wasn’t sure what the hell had just happened. What Cam had expected to happen.
But she wouldn’t find out hanging around on the beach, would she?
She started walking, the distant lights of the town guiding her. She and Cam had come further than she realized, and night had swept in while they walked. She couldn’t even see Cam’s silhouette up ahead. But she couldn’t have gotten far, surely. Piper had only been down a minute. Piper cupped her hands to her mouth. “Cam? Cameron!”
There was no answer. The wind shrieked down the bay, suddenly wild, and Piper flashed back vividly to her dream last night. She wondered if that’s all it had been, a howling gale invading her dreams. She glanced out across the ink-dark waters of the bay, watching the white caps rise and fall as the tide drove in. It was too easy to imagine being tossed around in those wild waves, mouth full of salt, lungs burning, body sinking and rising at the will of the water. It was too easy to imagine Dina Mackay walking into the sea…
Piper shivered, unsure where the idea came from. The wind rose and fell in strange harmony, filling her head with shipwrecks and yellowed bones polished by centuries of sand and water. She stopped looking for Cam, entranced and disturbed by the song of the bay. It did sound like voices, eerily so. Sweet, inhuman singing as the wind ripped through hidden caves and over knee-high banks of marram grass.
Dina could have heard that beautiful, awful music the night she went missing. She could have walked out of the Lobster Pot, just like Piper had tonight, pleasantly buzzed, and thought she heard voices down on the shore, out in the water.
Piper didn’t remember moving, but the water lapped at her feet now, so either she’d moved or the tide had. She wasn’t sure. It didn’t matter. The singing swirled around her, warming her where the wind had chilled her. The water washed over her canvas shoes, soaking in and anchoring her to the shore. The singing pulled at her, dragged at her, as inexorable as the ocean.
Where to Buy
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Evernight Publishing
About the Author
Naomi likes writing, perfume, fancy tea, and unfathomable monsters from the dark spaces between the stars, not necessarily in that order. She has been writing stories ever since she learned how to write, but is still trying to master the art of biography writing. When she’s not dealing with werewolves, demons, or sea monsters, she’s hanging out with her cat and probably watching a documentary about Bigfoot. If the cat isn’t available, she’s with her fiancé watching cookery shows and silently plotting her next book.
Sale!
Just got word from Evernight that they’re buying my sexy hitman romance “Gentleman Jackson” for their Lawless anthology. Which may throw some readers because this story is going in the MF antho, not the MM antho. What can I say — I like mixing things up. Also, it means that if you read the snippet I posted on Wednesday and liked it, you can read the full story in a month or so. More on that as details emerge.
In other news, Lady of Thorns should be finished by next Wednesday, and I’m looking at a 10/17 release date (it’s two weeks later than I’d originally planned, but Real Life™ wound up turning into a timesink and I want to make sure Lady gets a thorough editing before she’s released into the wild). I’m concurrently working on Shifter Woods: Snarl, which should be released before Lady, and once those are out I put the finishing touches on Cross Current and get that off to Evernight. November and NaNoWriMo is going to be dedicated to Uncertainty Principle, I believe. Lord, if I get everything finished on time I’ll have written four full length books, four novellas that will be combined into a box set, and a novelette this year. Not too shabby if I say so myself.
Mid Week Tease: Gentleman Jackson #MidWeekTease #MWTease
Hello, lovelies! This week I’m teasing you with a snippet from a story I’ve just submitted to Evernight’s Lawless antho call. Colton Jackson is a hitman from Shreveport, Louisiana who accepts a contract on a shady Dallas lawyer, but when the lawyer’s secretary witnesses the hit things get complicated. It doesn’t help that Ria Guzman turns out to be the younger sister of one of the most powerful gang leaders in the US. What’s a gentleman hitman to do? Take her into his own form of “protective custody,” of course.
I’m also including a pic of the lovely man who inspired Colton. Thank you for being your buff self, Chip!
Many thanks to Angelica Dawson for hosting us, and make sure to hit the list after the teaser to see other great Mid Week Teases!
“Hands against the wall, baby girl. I’m gonna bury my tongue in that sweet pussy of yours, whether you like it or not.” Colton chuckled. “Although I think you’re gonna like it.”
Ria hissed at the sudden pressure across her mound and ass, then it was gone. The hitman let the fragments of her panties drop to the floor and finished pushing up her skirt, staring at her trimmed mound. “Nice. I appreciate a little hair down there. Makes me feel like I’m loving a woman, not a doll.” He ran his lips over her curls, taking in a deep breath. “Oh, yeah. Hot and tangy, just the way I like it.”
She squeaked when he shoved one thigh over his thick shoulder, opening her even more. He blew a breath across her exposed pussy lips, already wet from her arousal, then ran the flat of his tongue up them, finishing off with a flicking lick over her clit.
Moaning at the sinfully good sensation, she let her head thump back against the wall. He was too big, she couldn’t stop him. All she could do was stand there and let him worship her pussy with his lips and tongue. He ate her like he was a starving man and she was a feast, sucking and nibbling her inner lips before sealing his mouth over her clit and lashing it with his tongue. The sensation was too good, too strong, and she shoved a fist against her mouth to muffle a cry.
He backed off a bit, lapping her wet flesh softly before sliding a thick finger inside her. This time her fist didn’t stop the cry, and she wailed softly as he massaged her inner pussy walls. His tongue returned to her clit, fluttering slowly over it.
Then he touched something inside her that sent stars across her vision. She swallowed a scream, her free hand searching for something and landing on his hair. Some last shred of sanity told her not to pull. Instead she ran her fingers through the straight, thick strands, petting him and using him to ground herself at the same time.
A soft purr that made her thighs tremble indicated his approval, and the finger inside her began to rub gentle circles on that amazing spot. His tongue picked up speed, sending bursts of electricity skittering across her nerve endings. She was trapped between two sources of pleasure, unable to escape either one and forced to enjoy the exquisite torture he was inflicting on her.
He slid in a second finger, stretching her wider and setting off another flare of sensual fire inside her. She was going to come so hard, and there was nothing she could do to stop it, nothing but ride it out—
Her orgasm tore through her like a hurricane, just this side of pain it was so strong. Her muscles clamped down hard on his fingers as he sucked her entire clit into his mouth, rubbing the flat front of his teeth across the bundle of nerves. It set off a second, smaller orgasm and she wailed, knees unlocking. He shoved his shoulders between her thighs, holding her against the wall with his own body as he continued to lick and suck.
She was seconds from begging him to stop when he pulled away, breathing hard and grinning up at her. “Sweet as a peach. I could eat you all day and twice on Sundays.”
He guided her down the wall until she was straddling his knees, arranging her limp arms around his shoulders and guiding her head to rest in the crook of his neck. She could still feel aftershocks rolling through her, making her muscles tremble. This was totally insane. She’d just had the best orgasm she’d ever had riding the mouth of a man who had killed her boss not an hour ago. “I don’t believe you just did that,” she panted.
His soft laugh was warm on her ear. “Told you I could be persuasive. And if you think that was good, cher, imagine what else I could do for you.”
He pressed her hips closer, making her ride the ridge in his pants. She imagined it thick and red, ribboned with veins and a drop of salty pre-cum sitting like a pearl in the tiny eye. “Feel that? It’s all for you. I’m gonna take you to bed and make you come at least two more times, and that is a guarantee.”
She groaned as his bulge rubbed across her clit. “You make me come two more times like that, you won’t have to shoot me. I’ll die from sexual exhaustion.”
He leaned back to look at her. The coldness from the office was gone, replaced by a hot little glint of desire. “That sounds like a challenge to me, baby girl. And I do love a challenge.”
He lifted her, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist as he got to his feet, hands cupping her ass securely. “Where’s your bedroom?”
Oh, what the hell. There are worse ways to die. She nodded at the door on the angled wall. “Through there.”
****
The bedroom was as small and neat as the rest of the place, Colton noted, with a Mission-style queen bed in light pine, matching nightstands and a chest of drawers. Ria had hung a Chinese parasol on the wall over the bed, but the rest of the walls were blank. The only other decoration was a framed picture, a family shot from the look of it, on the nightstand.
The blandness of her apartment said a lot about his hot little secretary. It wasn’t a home so much as it was a temporary resting place, somewhere she could leave at a moment’s notice and not look back. He tried to puzzle it out as he put her down next to the bed, but was distracted by the way her tits slid along his chest and abs. Once he was sure she could stand under her own steam, he got to work on unbuttoning her blouse. Pulling it off exposed more tan skin and a lacy white bra that molded two ripe mounds. Her nipples were hard points pushing through the delicate fabric and he couldn’t wait until he had them in his mouth. Tossing the blouse to the floor, he traced the soft skin along the upper edges of the cups, enjoying the way it made her shiver.
Pretty as it was, that scrap of fabric had to come off. Reaching around, he unhooked the clasp and pulled the bra free, his mouth watering at the sight of her teardrop breasts with their dark areolae and pebbled nipples. He couldn’t resist bending down and taking one in his mouth, slipping an arm around her lower back to hold her in place while he licked the firm nub.
A soft spill of Spanish danced through the air, close enough to Acadian French that he could get the gist of it. She didn’t want him to stop. That was just fine with him. He switched his attention to the other nipple, his finger coming up and tracing circles around the abandoned one. Shifting his weight, he urged her back onto the mattress, joining her and kissing a wandering spiral path over both breasts. Her skin was warm velvet against his lips, and she smelled so damn good he seriously wondered if he was going to come in his pants before he got a chance to get inside her.
He leaned up for a moment, taking her in. Her face was flushed and damp, and her eyes had that glossy haze of need that he loved to see on a woman. Her lips were slightly parted, full and ripe. He hadn’t even properly kissed her yet, apart from that little liplock in the office, and wasn’t that a damn shame?
Rising, he moved until he could brace a hand on either side of her shoulders and bend down to claim her lips. Christ, they were so damn soft, and they opened so sweetly to his tongue. Her own tongue rose to meet him, shy at first but growing bolder as he lured her into a swirling, sensual dance.
While their mouths were busy, his hands fumbled at the waistband of her skirt, finally finding the little zipper that held it closed. He pulled it down, sliding his hand inside the waistband and running it across the soft skin of her stomach. His fingers could just touch the crisp curls on her mound and he toyed with them, working his middle finger down until he could tap the very top of her slit.
She broke the kiss with a gasp. “Do that again.”
He did, adding a double tap this time. She made a happy little squeal, arching her back and pressing her hips into his hand. “Oh, yeah. I like that, papi.”
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Nicola Cameron Writes 