Thursday, February 22, 2018


Book One
The Broken

Welcome, enter a world of scifi and paranormal romance all centered around the world you know and love with an occasional visit to a new planet thrown in for your enjoyment. This is a nice slow burn that becomes nice and hot.


Quinn drummed her fingers against the desk while the phone rang. Her office was small, which was another word for crammed. She had a desk big enough for her working needs and filing cabinets, but that was it. There were also two chairs taking up her limited space, but it was hers, and she was proud of it.


“Hi, this is Quinn from Quinn's Construction. I’m returning a call I received about doing an outside kitchen.”

“I’m sorry you have the wrong number.”



“My construction company is just as good as any run by or staffed by men. You called me that means you know I can get the job done.”

“What does your sex have to do with it?”

“Why did you call if all you wanted to do was play around? I’m a business with real bills and actual employees to pay.”

She hung up the phone not hanging her head until she was sure the line was dead. The loan she took out would soon be gone, and if she didn’t get real work, she’d not only be in debt, she wouldn’t have a company.

This was the twenty-first century. How could people still hold such outdated beliefs? Construction was a man’s job. She cut her teeth on construction work. Her dad named this business after her and raised her to take over for him.

Her phone rang, she took several deep breaths composing herself before she answered it.

“Quinn’s Construction, how can I help you?” She needed a secretary, but she wouldn’t hire one because she wasn’t sure she could pay him or her.

“You called me and then hung up on me. I won’t tell you how rude that was. I asked a question. What does your sex have to do with your job?”

“I don’t know who you are, but this isn’t funny. You, like most men, don’t think a woman can get the job done. I have been working this business day and night for two years. I know my stuff. Did I answer your question?”

“You did. I will expect you at this address at one pm sharp.” He rattled off the address before he hung up.

She sat there holding her phone, mouth open. This could be the break she needed.

Wednesday, February 21, 2018

#Dirtyxcerpt #Dirtyexcerpt #HotDad #singledad #firefighter #BDSM #romcom ~ I want to worship you, Harper. Make you come harder than you’ve ever come before.

ONLY 99cents

15 scintillatingly sexy brand new romances for your reading pleasure.



A single dad, firefighter BDSM romcom



Since the moment I laid eyes on her I’ve wanted her.
But I wasn’t ready.
The kids were my world and my wounds were still raw.
For six months, I watched her from afar. Dreamed of her, lusted after her, fantasized…
But all that’s about to change. I’m finally ready to take the plunge and start dating again. And now that I know she’s single, I’m going to do this right and win Harper. I want her mind, I want her body, I want her heart.
And when she gives me all access, no limits, I know she’s the one for me.


He’s the one we all call Hot Dad at playgroup. The one who makes my knees weak and my panties wet every time he walks through the door. We all eye-fuck the bejesus out of him, and dream of his tongue between our legs.
But my kid is my world, and I’m a frumpy mom with a hole in the bum of her yoga pants. What could he ever see in me? So when Sam calls out of the blue, I’m stunned.
Now if only the kids can stop cock-blocking us, and his psycho ex would go away.

He’s turned out to be a master Dom and I’m willing and eager to be taught how to be the perfect little submissive. 


Holy crap on a cracker. Sam in full-on Dom mode was the hottest thing I’d ever seen. Those jeans, those feet, those abs. Oh sweet baby Jesus, those abs. How does someone get their stomach to look like that? A thousand situps a day and a diet of nothing but chicken breasts and iceberg lettuce? That had to be it. They were hypnotic, and I was mesmerized by the way they bunched and contracted as he moved to shut the bedroom door. I heard the lock engage and let out the breath I’d been holding.
The atmosphere inside the house was heavy and electric. The man overwhelmed the space, projecting his dark mood. Yet even then, he was difficult to read. I knew he was angry. Worried. And by the way he’d ordered me over here threatening punishment—turned on, but there was something else there, lurking just beneath the surface.
My gaze left his abs and shifted back over to the top of the dresser. Handcuffs, shackles, nipple clamps, blindfolds, paddles, crops, whips, floggers, and what was that wheelie thing? Was that a strap? Fire ignited deep inside me, and flames danced along my arms and up my neck. I encircled my left wrist with the thumb and index finger of my right hand, making a cuff of sorts. Remembering the cuffs last night. Sam came toward me, bringing his incredible scent, masculine and spicy with the hint of mint and fresh linen. He circled behind me; I stilled, waiting, wondering where he was going to touch me first.
I didn’t have to wait long.
His breath was warm and smelled mildly of liquor as his lips landed on my collarbone. Had he been drinking?
I must have tensed, because his hands fell to my waist, and he whispered, “I had one shot right before you showed up. But I’m not drunk.”
I swallowed. “Okay.”
“I want to worship you, Harper. Make you come harder than you’ve ever come before. Help you find new, never before touched erogenous zones and please you until you’re begging me for sleep.”
“But I also want to punish you.”
I knew he needed this. I knew he needed an outlet for the nightmare Meegan had put him through, and I was willing to be that outlet. I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. I wanted to be everything he needed. And tonight he needed to let go.
His lips fell back to my collarbone before traveling around the back of my neck and down the other side. He spun me around, smoothly removed my shirt, lifting it up and over my head. My pants were next. I’d been in my hole-in-bum yoga pants when he called but changed into jeans to come over. He unsnapped, unzipped and let the denim fall to the floor.
“So beautiful,” he murmured, his gaze slowly raking me from head to toe. Those magnificent eyes of his turned the shade of magical moonlight, deep and blue and fierce.
I was lost in them. Lost in Sam, and he’d hardly even touched me. I would do anything for this man. He had my heart months ago, and now he had my body. I was his.
“Step out.”
 I stepped out of my jeans and stood there for the rest of his inspection. He glanced at the bed.
I sat.
He knelt down; his big, warm hands encircled my left ankle. He ran them up the length of my calf, massaging out aches and knots I didn’t even know I had. I closed my eyes. A low, pleasured groan slowly rumbled through me from the back of my throat. Methodically, he removed my socks. I thought he’d proceed on to the other leg, but he didn’t. Instead he massaged and caressed, kneaded and prodded my feet. I groaned again, this time louder and longer. He dug his thumbs into the balls and arches of my feet, rubbed the pads of each toe until my whole body relaxed and I slumped back supine on the bed. He moved onto the other ankle, delivering the same glorious treatment to the other calf and foot. I was mush. Complete and total mush.
A gentle nip to the pad of my big toe brought me out of my coma, and I opened my eyes just as his hands came up and drew down my panties. Knuckles grazed the tops of my thighs, and I inhaled from how such a simple touch could make my entire body turn to molten lava and erupt with need.  
He slid them over my ankles. Forgetting gentle, he palmed my thighs and spread me wide. Then his mouth was on me. Decadent warmth and velvety softness swept up through my folds as plump lips enclosed around my clit and fiercely sucked. My hips jerked off the bed, and I pushed into his mouth. That tongue, that diabolical tongue flicked and flicked and flicked until I was a convulsing mess on the bed.
Just a tongue.
Just a flick.
Just my clit.
And I was ready to implode. There were no fingers, no circles, nothing, and the man had me in an absolute frenzy. My head thrashed back and forth on the bed as the orgasm built like the crazy winter storm outside. And Sam just continued to flick. It was the most intense, insane kind of torture. I wanted more, more lips, more tongue, more fingers—anything. But at the same time, I didn’t. That flick was enough. That flick was perfect.
Ecstasy, jagged in its reality, lingered just out of my grasp. I was seconds from letting Sam push me over the cliff when he stopped the flicking, gave one, long, slow lick up between my folds, then stood up.
What the hell?
His grin was salacious and pure Dom.
“Would you like to come?” he asked.
I swallowed from my position on the bed. “Yes.”

“You’ll come when I say you can come. Stand up.”


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About the Author
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have a spirited toddler and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn't end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it's not quite wine o'clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, these books have everything we need to satisfy the curious kink in all of us.

Tuesday, February 20, 2018

Cailin's Tuesday Tease - How to Steal the Pharaoh's Jewels

How to Steal the Pharaoh's Jewels: A Thief in Love Suspense Romance is nearly finished and will be off to the editor soon. This is Cade and Bassinae's story and the second book in the series. While I write, I'm getting the feeling that Max's book is next.

For this month's Tuesday tease, I thought I'd give you another taste from the opening chapter. This is an unedited version.

The main throughway to the spaceport was snarled in gridlock, so Cade diverted the car to a slower but better regulated side street. He made this trip frequently enough that he had the route and its alternates memorized down to the timing of the automated signals. Still he would have preferred the quicker course of an open throughway. And now, this road was jammed two intersections ahead.

“Damn traffic!” He slapped his palm on the padded steering wheel. In the old days no one got in his way. But then he’d been wearing battle armor as a peacekeeper for the United Colonies. Nothing like fear to clear citizens from your path.

“Problem?” The deep voice resonating from the back seat was Sebastian St. Croix, Cade’s boss and the man who had taken Cade in when the military had cast him on the trash heap.

“No. Intersection’s blocked ahead. I’ll go another street right. We’ll get there in plenty of time.”

“Do what you have to. You know how my mother hates to stand around and wait. If we’re not there, she’ll take a cab, and I’ll hear about it for the next two weeks.”

Cade chuckled. “I’ll try to keep you out of trouble.” Sebastian’s mother was a force of nature. Nothing stopped her from doing as she pleased except for her husband, Sebastian’s father. The man was the immovable object that when necessary blocked her irresistible drive forward. The only time Cade had been a witness to such a set down his admiration for the man’s authority had grown immensely. But Gerald St. Croix was the only person alive who had that effect on his wife.

The woman refused to use shuttle flights on planet even though she was wealthy enough to afford them. One should never take to the air when traveling short distances. This was her dictum based in theory on energy savings. Not that there was any substantial difference in fuel cost between ground and shuttle traffic. She’d grown up on a colony planet that had suffered near catastrophic power loss from the shoddy infrastructure installed by political crooks. To this day she insisted on saving energy when it didn’t overly hinder her pampered lifestyle. Thus collecting her from the spaceport took an hour long drive rather than a fifteen minute flight.

With a grunt of approval, Cade noted the route change had worked. The road ahead was less congested, so he relaxed back into his seat and picked up speed. A parking garage lined the left side of the street with office buildings on the right. He checked the time and glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Want some music?”

At that moment a large dump truck came barreling out of an exit of the parking garage. Cade swung right and hit the brakes hard, hoping to lessen the inevitable impact, but even with the protection devices built into the vehicle this would be a brutal collision. Safety foam inundated the foot wells of the car, and the air ballasts deployed. The scree of metal and the splintering of the car’s plastic shell, filled Cade’s ears along with a sound like the roaring thunder of thousands of wild animals stampeding toward him. One thought struck him. No pain. And then the world winked out.

The next he knew, someone was shouting his name and agony radiated from his pelvis. The gray airbags that held him in place deflated while before him the mangled remains of the windshield gave him a partially obstructed view of the front end of the dump truck, an irresistible force that even Gerald St. Croix couldn’t have stopped. The left side of the car was crushed and had been pushed into the passenger side. Cade had been displaced two-and-a-half feet to his right.

A voice sounded behind him. “Cade. We’re going to get you out of there. Hang on. They’ll have to cut you out.”

That was Sebastian. Thank the gods he’s okay. It was minutes, but it seemed that hours passed before Cade heard sirens approaching.

“The police and emergency services are here. It’s going to be all right, Cade.”

How the fuck did this happen? Who in their right mind would drive a dump truck at that speed out of a parking garage onto a street?

“Sir? Can you hear me, sir?” A uniformed man’s head and shoulders appeared outside the shattered front window.

Cade croaked out a response. “Yes.”

“I’m going to stabilize your neck with a collar and cover you while we break the side window and remove the roof of the vehicle.” The man pushed his way further into the car. While he slipped the collar around Cade’s neck and secured it, he asked, “Where do you hurt?”


“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Yeah.” Cade mumbled the brief details.

“Okay. We’re ready to remove the car’s roof. I’m going to place a blanket over you and then a shield. I’ll be right here with you.” Cade felt the emergency tech take hold of his hand. “It’s going to be noisy. If you need us to stop for any reason, squeeze my hand. Got that?”

“Got it. Squeeze your hand. Just get it done. It hurts like hell.”

“Pain meds have to wait for a full eval. But as soon as possible we’ll get you feeling better.”

“I know the drill.” Did he ever. Battle armor didn’t prevent everything, and even when it worked, the human inside could get battered and bruised.

“Here comes the blanket.” With the cover and then the flexible plastic shield in place, Cade’s world narrowed further. Claustrophobia enveloped him. He began to pant and grew dizzy.

The emergency med tech’s response was muffled but audible. “You’re all right. Breathe in slowly through your nose and out through your mouth.”

Cade heard the tinkle of falling glass. His fist clenched, he followed the techs instructions and the light-headedness passed. Gods. I’m such a limp dick. Hell of a thing for a former special forces operative to get his nuts handed to him over. Can’t take having a blanket covering your head.

Shouting voices intermingled with a whirring sound and then a high metallic scree, a pause, and then more screaming synthsteel. The pain in his pelvis became white hot when something jarred the vehicle. He gritted his teeth as a wave of nausea hit him. His eyelids squeezed shut, he counted seconds. When he reached one hundred forty-eight, light struck his lids, and he opened his eyes.

A long slender nozzle came into view, releasing a mist on top of the solidified foam that held him in place from the knees down. With the foam melting away he moved his right foot, the other refused to budge. He immediately regretted the action when pain sliced through his torso down his legs and up his spine. He struggled to endure the blinding agony, hanging on, waiting for it to ease while he remained frozen, panting in short, staccato breaths. It’s a broken pelvis at the very least. Internal bleeding if its bad. Hell, it feels like my whole left side is crushed. He fought the urge to push his way out of the car. I could be bleeding out. If they don’t hurry, I could die.

The men working over him issued orders for placement of the back board and the plan for extracting him. Their voices slowly faded into the background as cold gripped him. Stay awake. Don’t pass out. Don’t die. But his body ignored him. One last image passed through his mind before consciousness winked away, Bassinae.

How to Steal the Pharaoh's Jewels will release some time in April. The cover should be available soon.You're gonna love it.

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Monday, February 19, 2018

The Fantasies Unmasked Series is LIVE and FREE in KU!

3 steamy books
3 strong women
3 sexy as hell men
3 fantasies lived out to their fullest

You do NOT want to miss this series!

Lacey Wilson is a lot of things. She’s beautiful. Sweet. A little sassy. And about to be divorced. Now, on the verge of turning thirty, she’s on a mission to find herself, both emotionally and sexually. No attachments. No baggage. No problems. But when her best friend convinces her to attend a private party, where masked men and women go to have a little anonymous fun, she finds herself staring into the eyes of the most incredible man she’s ever seen, and caution gets thrown to the wind. After all, what’s just one night?

Cameron Jennings likes to keep things simple. He helps out at his father’s garage during the day, then goes home to a few beers and TV. No muss, no fuss. Until one night when he’s working as the doorman at a private party, and meets her… Once he slips the purple mask over Lacey’s eyes and gets a taste of what she has to offer, he’s done for.

With Lacey on a mission to rebuild her life, and Cameron completely infatuated, will she be able to convince him they could never have a real future after the way they met? Or will he prove her wrong?

Stassi Sanderson knows what it’s like to be alone. Her father left when she was six-years-old; her mother did her best, but may as well have gone with him. Those hard times taught her a valuable lesson: people always disappoint.

For Stassi, the private parties are her safe haven. From loneliness. From expectations. A place where she can slip on a mask and be the woman she wants to be, instead of the part she plays. The tall, stunning blonde who isn’t afraid to relax and simply feel. Who pushes her erotic boundaries. The party’s anonymity allows her to explore her own brand of intimacy on her own terms…until she meets him.

Alec Taylor goes after what he wants. He wanted a successful restaurant, he made it happen. When he began running the private parties as a favor to a friend, he turned them into an intensely erotic environment where people could live out their fantasies free of judgement. And now? Now he wants Stassi. Needs her. Craves her with a force he hasn’t felt in a long, long time.

As much as Stassi would prefer he be nothing more than a party favor, Alec is determined to show her the kind of man he is. A man who will love her, protect her, and never, ever leave.

Gigi Andrews has always been comfortable in her own skin. High heels and little black dresses never had jack on her combat boots and purple-streaked hair. She’s spontaneous. Fearless. And when she finds out he-who-shall-not-be-named is coming back into town a mere two years after he tore her heart into a million, agony filled pieces, she’s ready to get even.

Jackson Mirales is so close to opening his own photography studio he can practically taste it. While engagement and wedding shoots pay the bills, he’s ready to show the world what he’s capable of. Pictures that scream beauty. Desire. Lust. Everything he felt the second he laid eyes on her. He’ll do anything to get Gigi to pose for him, even if it means coming up with the most ridiculous scheme he can think of.

The stage is set. The rules laid out. Jackson and Gigi are ready to pull the wool over everyone's eyes in an effort to get what they want. After it’s all said and done, everything will go back to normal. But when feelings start to surface, they may find      something they hadn't even realized they'd been looking for.

Sunday, February 18, 2018

#Dirtyxcerpt #Dirtyexcerpt #LoveMeHard #HotDad #BDSM single dad firefighter romcom

Only 99cents



Since the moment I laid eyes on her I’ve wanted her.
But I wasn’t ready.
The kids were my world and my wounds were still raw.
For six months, I watched her from afar. Dreamed of her, lusted after her, fantasized…
But all that’s about to change. I’m finally ready to take the plunge and start dating again. And now that I know she’s single, I’m going to do this right and win Harper. I want her mind, I want her body, I want her heart.
And when she gives me all access, no limits, I know she’s the one for me.


He’s the one we all call Hot Dad at playgroup. The one who makes my knees weak and my panties wet every time he walks through the door. We all eye-fuck the bejesus out of him, and dream of his tongue between our legs.
But my kid is my world, and I’m a frumpy mom with a hole in the bum of her yoga pants. What could he ever see in me? So when Sam calls out of the blue, I’m stunned.
Now if only the kids can stop cock-blocking us, and his psycho ex would go away.
He’s turned out to be a master Dom and I’m willing and eager to be taught how to be the perfect little submissive.

Dirty Excerpt

I grabbed her by the elbows and hauled her arms over her head, pinning her hands into the pillows with one of mine. I held her there and gazed down. Pink bloomed on her cheeks and hunger swirled in her eyes. One hard kiss on her lips, and I dipped my head again and tugged a nipple into my mouth. Gently, but not without pressure, I scissored my teeth back and forth across her flesh. She sucked in air as she wriggled beneath me. Soft and feminine whimpers escaped her as I continued on with my torture. I kept her in place and worshiped her body with my mouth. Kisses and nibbles, licks and pecks. I raked my teeth across her ribs and under the gentle swell of her breasts until she bowed her back, shut her eyes, clenched her jaw and let out a growl of frustration as her hips pressed up to meet mine. I pulled away, lingering just above her.
“Too slow and gentle for your liking?”
“Yes,” she panted. “Sam … we’ve been cock-blocked so much, don’t waste time. You never know when Carly is going to wake up.”
She had a point. But I didn’t want it to all be over, either.
“Please, sir … fuck me?” She fluttered those damn eyelashes at me like some sexy little schoolgirl, and my cock grew longer and thicker against my stomach. I glanced down between us, and a drop of pre-cum beaded on the head of my dick. She followed my gaze. “Can I lick it off?”
Oh hell yes. Releasing her hands, I pulled her up so she was sitting. I leaned back on my heels and grabbed the base of my shaft.
“Suck it, baby. Suck it hard. I’ve thought of nothing but your lips wrapped around my cock since our phone sex date. I want to feel the real thing.”
With big wide doll eyes, she parted her lips, taking me to the back of her throat. And then she started to hum.
The woman was fucking humming.
Oh dear lord.
My hands moved of their own volition, and my fingers entwined with the short tendrils of her soft hair. I pulled on her scalp, tugging her harder and deeper onto me, loving the vibrations and the way my cock felt in her hot little mouth.
With one hand she stroked me, root to her lips, but she never took me out of her mouth. Never. I was always in that decadent heat. Whether it be the whole seven inches or just the tip, she never let me go. Her other hand came up as she squeezed and tugged on my sac, rolling my aching balls around in her palm, giving them a little yank every now and then just to keep me on my toes.
I was close in a matter of minutes, but I didn’t want it to end. Watching Harper’s head bob up and down in my lap was so damn hot. I’d go to bed every night for the coming week with the image emblazoned on the back of my eyelids. I tapped her head.
“I-I’m close, baby.”
The humming grew louder. She tugged down harder on my scrotum and picked up her pace. When she brought me out and just left in the tip, her tongue darted back and forth over the head before wedging its way into the little hole. Jesus fucking Christ, the woman was a sorceress. Her eyes were closed as she powered forward until I knocked her tonsils, but she didn’t gag, she just kept going. A beautiful lone tear slipped down the side of her cheek, and I wiped it away with my thumb.
“Look at me,” I demanded. I wanted her to watch me come. Even if I shut my eyes and tossed my head back, I wanted her to watch the kind of pleasure she wielded.
Her eyes flashed open, and she looked up at me. Fuck, she was beautiful, and with my cock in her mouth she was goddamn stunning.
“I’m going to come so hard, baby. You sure about this?”
“Mhmm,” she hummed.
Her tongue coiled around my length, and she let me bottom out. I exploded.
It’d been ages since I’d gotten a blow job, but even with the distant memories foggy in my brain, this one took the cake. It wasn’t that her mouth was just that talented, or her diligence endless and her tongue magical, it was those big brown bedroom eyes gazing up at me as I spilled myself inside her mouth and she swallowed me down. The convulsions of her throat swallowing, milking me, only heightened the pleasure. I squeezed my eyes shut, tossed my head back and groaned, pulling on the roots of her hair and bucking into her face. But she took it all. Watched it all. 

Saturday, February 17, 2018

#IntimateStrangers #NSFW #Xcerpt #KathleenLawless #LoveMeHard #RomanceCollections Check out this dirty xcerpt from the lovely and talented Kathleen Lawless.

Please welcome my friend, mentor and fellow Vancouver Island Romance Author, the lovely, Kathleen Lawless. 
From contemporary to historical, erotic to romantic comedy, this woman can do it all, and do it all well. 
And her erotic romance, Intimate Strangers is no different. 


Alisha King isn’t afraid of intimacy, or so she manages to convince herself.  After all, she experiences intimacy in a myriad of ways, from viewing the world behind the lens of her camera to a frenzied romp with her favorite vibrator. Focused on her upcoming photography show and finding the perfect subject, suddenly there he is, watching her watching him from across the courtyard of their apartment block. 
     The jolt through her system is instant, a familiarity that makes no sense.  She knows him, yet she doesn’t.  And trading the safety of her camera for up close and personal with the yummy Doctor Hanson Powers promises to lend a whole new level of intimacy to her photography.
     When his sexy neighbor asks to photograph him, Hanson is by turns amused and intrigued.  He isn’t interested in being a photo subject, yet he is curious to know how Alisha will go in the barter system.  A blow job?  More?

     Turns out the thing that scares Alisha the most is emotional intimacy.  So they start with the sex and more forward from there.   

Dirty Xcerpt

She caught her breath.  Was she so transparent?  He wasn’t supposed to anticipate her moves in advance.  He was supposed to be surprised.  Intrigued.  Caught unawares.  That’s how she captured the essence of a subject.  Already Hanson was proving more of a challenge than she had anticipated.
“Do you enjoy being seduced?”
“I’ve never been seduced by a camera before.”
“I promise I’ll be gentle.  Turn around.  Stand here.”  She gestured to the French doors leading to the balcony.  He did as she asked.  Already she could see the light was magic. 
She reached around and in a deliberately intimate move unbuttoned his shirt, conscious of her hands brushing the warm skin of his chest and abs. She pulled his shirt tail free and tugged the fabric off one shoulder, draping it so an intriguing play of skin and muscle was revealed.  “Place your hands on the doorframe.  Flex your muscles.  That’s it!”  She plopped the cowboy hat on his head and adjusted the brim.  “Tilt your head to the left.  Just a bit.  Perfect!  Don’t move!” 
She adjusted the light to enhance the rope-like shadows exaggerated in the slope of his neck and shoulder, the tensing of his muscles.  She picked up her camera and started to shoot, moving from side to side, assessing shadow and light, clicking away, getting the ghostly shadow of the building across the courtyard just perfect, light and dark.
“Okay! You can relax now.”  She changed lenses before she moved the light. 
Hanson proved to be an inspiring model.  He happily sprawled on the bed, unzipped jeans revealing that intriguing wedge of skin, so blatantly masculine.  He took to the blindfold with a wicked chuckle, as if he’d been born for this, and didn’t flinch when she sprayed his chest so beads of water clung to his skin, as if he’d just had a sweaty romp in bed.
He obligingly shucked the jeans when asked and rolled onto his stomach so she could position a wedge of silk across his tremendous ass, and slid the rose down his spine to his waist. 
When prompted, he rolled back onto his back, the silk protecting his modesty, the blindfold still in place.  Provocatively she picked up a cube of ice, cold on her fingertips.  He smiled when she she outlined his lips, caught a drip with his tongue.  Then she left the camera on its tripod, and picked up the remote shutter. 
Suddenly, not even sure how it happened, she found herself in the photo shoot with him. 
She hadn’t planned it that way.  Had no intention of sitting behind him with her bare legs wrapped around his torso, feeding him the ice cube as it melted and dripped down his jaw.
Still blindfolded, he reached up and stroked the side of her face.  When he tousled her hair her scalp tingled, stimulated by the pads of his fingers.  Her body was on fire, singed at every juncture it met his. 
He was hard and hot.  Her clit pulsed with the promise of further treats as her breasts brushed his back, a direct hit to her burning core.  He was breathing hard.  The silk across his hips formed a tent more erotic than if he was naked.  His hand found hers, played with her palm, turned it into an erogenous zone she hadn’t known existed as she writhed beneath him.  His mouth hit her palm, lips hot, tongue chilled from the ice.  She moaned.  The photo shoot was forgotten, the remote shutter lost in their tangle of silk and limbs as they found their way to each other. 
Alisha skimmed out of her dress and underwear.  Hanson lost the blindfold, his heavy-lidded gaze intent on her body.  She couldn’t move.  No man had ever looked at her that way.  Assessing.  Admiring.  Lust-filled. 
He picked up the rose, played it across her nipples, through the valley between her breasts, lower still to ring her navel, then tease her mons. 
Her legs parted slightly.  Her breath increased in anticipation, as her pulse raced. The rose teased her inner thigh, from her knee to her pubes and back.  Slowly. Torturously. 
It was like nothing she’d ever felt before.  She heard a whimper and realized it came from her.  How was that even possible?  She didn’t enjoy sex with men.  She had to turn this back, take control. 
Which she did.  Slowly and deliberately she took the rose away, and edged up onto her knees while Hanson lay in a tangle of silk watching her.  That knowing half-smile goaded her.  He knew she wanted him. 
She reached behind a pillow and pulled out a pair of handcuffs.  Hanson continued to watch in heavy-lidded silence as she cuffed his wrists to the headboard.  “I hope you know where the keys are.” 
“Don’t worry,” she said.  “I have no intention of keeping you here all night.” 

“We’ll see.”  

Kathleen Lawless’s earliest memories are of wanting to be a writer.  To create stories that would touch the lives of others who love to read the way she does.
     “I’m working on my 24th novel and it’s amazing to see the changes in traditional publishing, including ebooks and the opportunities writers have to interact with their readers.”  She enjoys pushing the boundaries of traditional romance into erotic romance, romantic suspense, women’s fiction and stories for young adults. 
     She also knows firsthand about happy endings.  “Can you believe I wrote A HARD MAN TO LOVE with a hero named Steele, years before I met my own hero named Steel?  His proposal to me on a remote island in the Caribbean was more romantic than anything I could have written about.” 
     Her books have garnered rave reviews and numerous awards including Romantic Times K.I.S.S., a Scarlett Letter, and a Golden Quill. 

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