AuThursday – Ivy Hayes

Tell us a little about yourself and your background?

I will try and keep it short 😊
I am 25 and from Seattle, and I got my start writing when my boyfriend and I had an itch to travel. I quit my non-profit healthcare job so we could spend 2018 out of the country.  Since I now has all this free time, I started to go crazy so I quickly settled on writing a book to pass the time (which had been a long-time dream of mine, I just never thought it would actually happen) and finished my first manuscript about a month later in a coworking space in Dunedin, New Zealand.
I am still so new in the writing world I feel I am learning something each day that hones my craft, just a little bit more. The best part though, I truly found something I love and writing books has shaped my career goals in a way I didn’t even know was possible.

Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?

My best writing hours are in the late afternoon to evenings.  I spend my mornings learning all I can about self-publishing/marketing/etc. then usually take a nap and wake up to write for a few hours. I break this when I am in the last third of a manuscript and I tend to write all day.
I have been spoiled with having writing be my ‘full-time job’ while I have been traveling, I am going to miss it when I start working again in September, then I will join the 5am writing club and probably do a bit after work/on the weekends.

What genre are your books?

So far, they are all Paranormal Romance, but I am working on a Contemporary Romance, coming out sometime in the fall.

What draws you to this genre?

Romance novels have gotten me through a lot. I feel like they helped keep me sane in college and the years after. I studied pre-med, so my mind was constantly overloaded from all the coursework. After college, I worked in a fast-paced healthcare non-profit. With both, I needed some content that was fun and easy to read. I always had a romance novel downloaded on my phone that I could veg out with for fifteen minutes.
I love that the stories almost always end with a happy ending. So, when I started writing, it didn’t take me long to settle on this genre. I guess right that it would be a blast to write and I wanted to spread even more happiness (and sexiness).

How did you come up with the idea for your SHIFTING HEARTS series?

I am the kind of writer that just writes and lets the story take me where it wants to go. When I started the first book, all I knew is I wanted it to do something with shifters. At first, it was a modern-day novel, mixed with Greek gods, so very different than what it ended up being.

I wrote and rewrote the first few chapters until something made sense, then I ran with it.

How are you publishing your latest book and why?  (*e.g. Indie, traditional or both)

Indie. I played with the idea of going to traditional route, but that almost seemed like the easier route (well, after you get picked up, it would be easier). I wanted to maintain autonomy and control over my novels and work to build my brand, as I wanted it.

What is your writing Kryptonite?

I have a hard time focusing on just one project. I write for a few weeks on one then get a great idea and start another novel.
Like right now, I am in the middle of three.

What advice would you give to aspiring writers?

Take all the advice you read with a grain of salt. People have what works for them, but I can almost guarantee it won’t work for you. The main thing is just keep working at it and pushing through until you find the groove that is right for you.

Where can readers find you on the World Wide Web?

I have a WordPress blog: http://ivyhayesbooks.wordpress.com
Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram: @Ivyhayesbooks
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/default/e/B07BR7TRJR/ref=ntt_dp_epwbk_0?redirectedFromKindleDbs=true
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/17882231.Ivy_Hayes

Do you have an Excerpt you’d like to share with us?

From Shifting Hearts:

I start to drink my tea and after the first sip, I put it down. The pine was a terrible idea, it only reminds me of Gregory’s soap. There goes all hopes of the tea putting me to sleep, in fact, it did the opposite. After last night’s restless sleep, tonight should have been cake to fall asleep, but plagued by the memory of Gregory’s touch, my mind is wide awake. Sighing, I dump out the tea and sit staring at the fire for a while. I try and get comfortable, but I am not near anything to lean on. I might as well lay down, perhaps the position will help lull me into sleep. So, wrapped up in my cloak, I find myself lying down. Naturally, I am reminded of Gregory’s giant bed. Instead of waking up with my head on Gregory’s hard chest, I am resting it on the hard forest floor.

Given that I am already depressed, I don’t stop my memories from today replaying in my mind. Those short minutes of intimacy were the best minutes I have had in years. If it wasn’t for Grant knocking, I am sure we would have gone even further. Further to do something I have never done with anyone. Thank god we didn’t though, I doubt I would have had the strength to leave after losing myself to Gregory like that. Thinking of his mouth on my breasts, about his arms holding me close, I feel myself start to get wet. His instant effect on me is uncanny. A wicked thought passes my mind, pleasuring myself thinking of him might be just what I need to fall asleep.

Reaching one hand down to my sex, I hear a rustling in the trees. I look up and see an owl watching me. I am sure it will fly off in a second, chasing a mouse or whatever owl’s do. Not letting it deter me, I slide one finger inside myself, starting a slow massage.  

I let out a low moan, grateful there is no one around to hear me. It feels so good. Sliding my finger back out, I rub the soft nub of my clit, soon that is not enough and I plunge my finger back in my pussy. As soon as I do, the owl flies off the tree and lands right in front of me.

I immediately stop what I was doing and sat up on my elbow, “What the hell?” Before I finish that sentence, the owl disappears and Gregory’s naked, very erect form is standing right in front of me. Holy shit, he is a shifter too. That must be why he didn’t turn me in right away, he understands the weight of that secret.

“I was determined to just watch over you tonight, then find you in the morning.” He knelt on the ground to get closer to me, “But as soon as you started touching yourself, I lost all my resolve.” He leaned forward and took my mouth in his.

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Saturday Sexcerpt – Calla’s Summer Fantasy by Amber Daulton

callas-summer-fantasy“…Here are the blurb and a sexy quick peek at Calla’s Summer Fantasy, my latest erotic romance novella from Resplendence Publishing.”~Amber Daulton

Blurb

Calla Lansky needed help at playing the field.

She scheduled two dates for the same night at her favorite seafood restaurant and she owed her shocked boyfriends an explanation. To her surprise, Nathan Risley and Sam Tomlin handled the awkward situation like pros and happily agreed to her ultimate fantasy: a ménage à trois.

After the hottest night of her life, Calla faced the ultimate decision.

Should she commit to the one man who secretly loved her all along or keep her options open and indulge in her summer fantasy again and again?

Excerpt

Calla couldn’t decide which passionate, rock-hard hunk satisfied her body more.

She glanced back down at the bed coverings and kicked away her heels. Only a coward would continue to stall. Calla turned her back on her lovers, slowly untied the halter straps of her little blue dress and shimmied her hips. The clingy fabric slid down her body, pooled around her ankles and left her in nothing but a pair of lacy black panties and a matching bra. A flirty pout puckered her lips as she glanced behind her.

“Little tease.” Sam clenched one hand at his side, his gaze dropped to her perky ass, and he pumped his cock harder with his other hand.

She grinned, her self-confidence shot like a rocket into outer space, and she tunneled her hands through her hair to lift the heavy locks. The nape of her neck tingled and her hair cascaded back down in a slow fall to sway at the tip of her ass. Nathan growled as Calla reached for her bra clasp and she batted her eyelashes at him from over her shoulder. “You wanna do it?” Nathan liked undressing her, Sam enjoyed her strip shows, but Calla didn’t care how she undressed as long as she woke up sore in the morning.

Nathan crossed the blankets in three long strides and grasped her waist with his strong hands. His fingers dug a little hard into her skin. Desire shot through her and she almost melted as he trailed hard little kisses along her shoulder blade. She inadvertently transferred power and control of the situation to him but she couldn’t find the will or the want to steal it back. Nathan swiped her hair to one side, feathered his fingertips down her spine and wrapped his arms around her like two steel bands. Caged against his solid chest, his cock pressed into the small of her back and she felt scorched by his possessive hold.

He turned her around so they faced Sam. The photographer’s lustful gaze burned like hot coals over her body. Nathan cupped her breasts, tweaked her nipples through the lace and snapped the clasp of her bra free. The scrap of fabric fell down her arms. A light breeze hardened her achy nipples into stiff peaks. Her body hummed with awareness. Calla closed her eyes as Nathan massaged her breasts with a soft but firm grip.

To read more about Calla and her naughty fantasy, check out these links:

Amazon – http://amzn.to/25yXk0z

Barnes and Noblehttp://bit.ly/1U9bDQZ

ARe – http://bit.ly/1XN1Hio

Kobohttp://bit.ly/1WXe1NY

Resplendence Publishing – http://bit.ly/25O5bHJ

Goodreads – https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30325866-calla-s-summer-fantasy

Join me next Thursday when we meet romance author Trvann Rogers.  ~Tina

Saturday Sexcerpt – Finish What you Started by Kathryn Lively

About the Book – Finish What You Started

In this business, it gets hot under the spotlight…

Once a teen idol, Gabby Randall now spends her time behind the camera. With her show Danse Macabre scripted and a greenlit for a popular streaming site, she has everything she wants…except her star. Deadlines are looming and she’s desperate to cast the role of a modern-day, motorcycle-riding Grim Reaper. She never thought she’d end up hiring her former co-star, TV’s most beloved geek…and her ex-husband.

Until the day he dies, people will remember Dash Gregory as Freddie ‘Grody’ Grodin, the token geek friend of the cool kids at Wondermancer High. After years of casting agents overlooking him for plum roles, Dash wants to show Hollywood he’s more than a one-note player. He’s ready to break the vicious typecasting cycle, and he’s set his sights on the lead role in a sexy new series too hot for network TV.

When the director yells “Cut!” the star wants to keep up the action behind the scenes. Are Dash and Gabby willing to make rating history again?

About the Author

Kathryn Lively is an award-winning writer and editor, avid Whovian, and Rush (the band) fan. She loves chocolate and British crisps and is still searching for a good US dealer of Japanese Kit Kat bars.

Kathryn is a regular contributor to the Sexy To Go authors group and enjoys the outdoors, when she’s able to get out.

fwys

Copyright © Kathryn Lively 2016. All Rights Reserved, Totally Entwined Group Limited, T/A Totally Bound Publishing.

April, 2006, Las Vegas

Gabby Randall stood at the window of their fifteenth-floor suite at the Fitzgerald Hotel and Casino, looking out at the blinding lights of Fremont Street. Thousands of them, maybe a million, blinked in rapid succession, simulating waves and fireworks and starbursts in colors she hadn’t realized existed. Down and to her right, a two-story tall neon cowboy winked and waved to passersby from his perch at the Pioneer Club. Bright yellow piping outlined his checkered shirt and knowing leer, and if Gabby moved one inch to one side or the other she could swear his eyes took on a sinister glow.

He stared at her, accusing her, as though to say Shame on you, girlie. Eloping without telling nobody. She wanted to turn away, but his eyes proved too hypnotic to resist.

“Shut up. I’m an adult,” she muttered, and blinked to break the spell. The cowboy had a name. The clerk at registration had said as much, but it’d gone right out of her head, replaced by choruses of nearby jingling slot machines as Dash had given him two fake names and paid cash for the room.

She looked past the neon smirk and studied the vibrant patterns of one hotel’s marquee. A thought occurred to her about the lights—how would anyone know to check for burnouts and replace the bulbs if the signs ran twenty-four-seven? Did the hotels each hire a specific person to stand on bulb duty? Were they like Christmas light strands, in that if one was faulty then the whole thing didn’t light up?

Why she pondered this, of all things one wondered about Vegas, she didn’t know. She took a deep breath and decided that her mind chose to focus on inane observations to calm her nerves.

It had less to do with coming to a strange city than it did with this being her first night alone with Dash. Her first night alone with any man, for that matter.

She’d never visited Las Vegas before, though she’d entertained a number of invitations from event planners. Her parents and managers, as devout in their Catholicism as their business savvy, had refused on her behalf time and again. No conventions or junkets unsanctioned by the network, or them, for her. Definitely, they didn’t want her involved in a cheesy celebrity magic show or publicity stunt. Vegas might as well have been situated on the outer rim of Hell.

Now, their say mattered little. She’d turned twenty-one the previous week, on the same day her contract with Randall Talent had expired. Marie and Walter might remain family, but they no longer made decisions for her, business or otherwise. This included her most important one to date—her wedding to Dash Gregory.

Gregory. She was Gabby Gregory now. Or perhaps she should hyphenate to Randall-Gregory, and use her given name, Gabrielle. Maybe that would make her appear mature, and more professional when she met with prospective agents to help her transition from TV ingénue to a place behind the camera.

In her left hand she held the current issue of People Magazine, the cover of which featured her with the other five principals of Wondermancer High, the television show that had served as her work and home for the past six years. In her right, a marriage certificate affirming her union with Dash Gregory bent in her tightening grip. It had happened only an hour ago, and if she brought the paper closer she could smell the printer ink. Her thumb brushed the black-marker signature of the minister, a middle-aged Johnny Cash impersonator with authentic sideburns and a paunch. Dash had insisted using a fake Elvis seemed too cliché, and that his late father—a Cash fan—would have gotten a kick out of it.

Gabby had conceded easily. She’d have stood before a showgirl in all her ostrich plumage and glitter if it meant a legitimate marriage. The Cash impersonator hadn’t recognized either of them, which was good. He didn’t fit their show’s demographic, and apparently he didn’t have a teenager who forced him to sit in front of the set every Thursday evening at eight.

She set the license on the nightstand to prevent further creases, then focused on the magazine. Good Luck, Graduates! read the headline, in reference to the series finale due to air next month. Sadness barely touched her as she recalled the emotion and angst which had pervaded the set when they’d filmed their final scenes. Relief was more like it. She’d played the part of Tula Truebend for six seasons, and as far as the country knew, her real life mirrored that of the prim, straight-A student aspiring to the upper echelons of the magical world. Hardly. Her grades, passable enough to let her continue acting, wouldn’t get her into Harvard. She hadn’t planned on college, anyway.

With the series behind her now, she couldn’t wait to pursue a career as a screenwriter and producer—to create rather than regurgitate. First order of business—develop a project for Dash.

Of the six main actors on the paranormal-set show—created to capitalize on the success of the Harry Potter franchise—her new husband stood to suffer the most typecasting. While she’d played the brain, a pretty one to boot, he’d been the token geek. Glasses, perpetually bent wand, goofy laugh, and no fashion sense. The showrunners had neglected all requests to mature Freddie Grodin toward the end of the run, leaving ‘Grody’ to remain a beloved yet awkward and inept nerd in the eyes of Wondermancer High fans.

She promised herself Dash would have a long acting career, and not in variations of the same role. What the hell was taking so long with him, anyway? He’d gone for water…had he tried the Hoover Dam first?

The handle of their room’s door jerked and rattled, startling her. On instinct, she clutched the full-length robe she wore tighter around her chest. When they’d stood exposed on Fremont Street, walking from the chapel to the hotel, she’d fretted over possible discovery from fans and paparazzi. Instead people had brushed past them, oblivious. Only in a city like this could that happen, she realized.

“Finally,” Dash muttered and entered the room. “I hate these damn keycards. They only work half the time.” A plastic bag, heavy with bottles and snacks, hung from his forearm, and he wore his favorite Dodgers cap pulled low over his face. Gabby smiled upon seeing it, especially since Dash really didn’t need to wear it to conceal his identity. Without the taped-up glasses and slicked-back hair the world saw on Grody each week, Dash as himself resembled nothing of the character he played. She envied his ability to roam free.

No, Dash was gorgeous with his clear blue eyes and a hint of stubble shadowing his firm jaw. He removed the cap and ruffled his short hair, adding to his adorably scruffy look.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she told him, and approached him for a hug. “I don’t like being here by myself.”

“Hey.” He took the magazine from her and set it next to the license, then enveloped her in his arms. He felt safe, warm. “It’s okay. Didn’t I tell you we’d be all right? It’s official, we’re married, and there’s nothing anybody can do about it.”

“I keep thinking somebody saw us downstairs.” Visions bloomed in her mind of photographers stalking each floor of the hotel, disguising themselves as room service. Fans pulling out their cell phones or running for the nearest pay phone to tell their friends, or worse, announce it to the world via their MySpace pages and that new site, Twitter. Guess what…we saw Tula and Grody in Vegas! Why would they be here, checking into the same hotel room? Ooooh!

Friends tell other friends. Somebody knows a guy at the Enquirer. He calls his contact in Vegas. Somebody calls her parents…in three seconds the SWAT team will kick down their door…

“Gabby, you’re shaking.”

“I just want to be a married person for one night without the world knowing about it.”

Dash chuckled. It vibrated throughout her body, making her very aware of him. The robe slipped open and her breasts, hidden by a sheer layer of satin and lace, pressed against his body when he drew her against him. Her nipples hardened, anticipating his touch.

They hadn’t seen this much of each other during the year they’d secretly dated. They’d kissed, a lot, and enjoyed a quick grope over clothes in between scenes. She’d saved it all for tonight.

“We’re fine, Gabby,” he assured her. “We could walk the whole Strip tonight and nobody is going to notice us. There’s enough in Vegas to distract people. In fact,” he pulled away and she whimpered, “I thought we might stay an extra night.”

“But we’re going to New York tomorrow.” An outsider might have viewed their wedding as spontaneous, but they’d put a fair amount of planning into this week. Marry in Vegas, then off to Manhattan to shop for an apartment. Stage and TV auditions for Dash while she met with agents to discuss her ideas for projects.

“I know, but you deserve a proper honeymoon, however short. It’s not like we’re broke and have to go back to work immediately.”

“I know.” Assuming Wondermancer High enjoyed a long life in syndication, they wouldn’t have to work again with their combined income if they budgeted well. She wanted to work, though, and intended to distance herself from Tula Truebend.

He sat on the edge of the bed and kicked off his shoes. The white Polo he’d worn for the ceremony came next, discarded onto the carpet. Dash stretched his arms to the ceiling and Gabby marveled at the definition in his muscles. She couldn’t wait to trace every ridge and curve.

“I was thinking we’d go see Celine or Elton, or Cirque du Soleil,” he continued, shucking his pants and socks. Clad in his boxers, he scooted back to lie on the bed. “I’ll get tickets for whatever you want. I got the room for two nights either way, and New York isn’t going anywhere.”

He patted the vacant side of the mattress and eyed her standing form. The robe’s belt had come loose, exposing her legs and the red baby-doll barely covering her thighs.

“I’m not going anywhere, either,” he added.

“Good.” The robe slid to the floor, and Gabby crawled up the bed and moved flush against her new groom. Dash slanted his mouth over hers, and she melted into his embrace, sinking deeper into bed as he rolled closer. She explored the smooth planes of his back on down to his cotton shorts, where she longed to discover his better assets. Limbs twined, fingers plucked at straps and elastic bands, all the while she let her husband plunder her mouth with his tongue. She tasted the coffee they’d shared earlier and a hint of mint gum, clearly used to mask the strong drink.

She’d never felt happier, being with Dash. She was ready to put Tula Truebend behind her and act her age. She’d reveled in the simple act of buying this skimpy lingerie for her wedding night, enjoying shopping like a “grown up.”

Her parents had kept her under constant watch during the show’s run, having everything done for her. They’d paid her bills, chosen her outfits, and watched her diet. No more. She wouldn’t think about them tonight.

The straps of her baby-doll drooped down her shoulders, freeing her body. Dash broke from her lips and kissed a trail to one breast, circling the nipple with his tongue. She shivered at the sensation, as though he set her every nerve ablaze with his touch.

He looked up with glazed eyes and a swollen smile. “Did you…?”

She nodded, and her silent affirmation that she’d taken her pill sufficed. She’d gotten the prescription in secret last month, in anticipation of their marriage.

Dash returned to her breasts for a full-on assault, nipping one while kneading the other. He shifted over her, allowing her to feel the fullness of his arousal. Gabby relaxed and let him take over. His every thrust against her sex, while still in his boxers, sparked her desire, readying her to become his in every sense of the word.

No, she thought, we’ll belong to each other. When the shorts and her lacy thong came off and he entered her with one slow, guided stroke, she bit her lip to avoid crying out and focused on Dash above her, burying his face into the crook of her neck, cooing his reassurance that he would take care of her.

“You okay?” he whispered, his warm breath roaring in her ear.

“Fantastic. Are you?”

“Yeah.” He laughed, giddy like, and pushed into her again. The pain subsided the longer they lay joined, but when he reached down for her clit she cried out. She was no stranger to self-pleasure, but having Dash touch her in this way brought her to climax much quicker than she had ever accomplished alone.

“Wow.” He laughed.

“Sorry about that.” She’d wanted to last, but his kiss soothed her guilt.

“I love you, babe,” he said, and after a second his body shuddered. He bore down on top of her, and Gabby looked down his back to see his cute ass bob faster as he filled her. The increased motion dizzied her senses, and the heat enveloping her took her breath away. She wanted to return the sentiment, tell him she loved him as much, but the words caught in her throat.

Instead, she focused on them and tried something she’d read about in a how-to manual. With him deep inside her she tightened around him and thrust. Oh, that’s nice.

Dash reared upward, his face pinched with pleasured pain, and cried out as he released. The warmth blossomed inside her, and they kissed away their afterglow, their hands sliding across dampened skin and fisting the sheets.

I love you. The words looped in her mind, and she hoped their connection strengthened enough for him to hear it.

Dash pulled away and they touched foreheads. His lashes brushed hers and he shook with quiet laughter. “I can’t wait until bedtime every night, if it’s like this.”

She almost made a Wondermancer High joke—It’s nothing like the dorms at Huntington Hall. Instead she nodded and kissed his nose. No references to the past, she decided. They weren’t Tula and Grody, who only spoke to each other when Tula needed him to get her boyfriend out of a scrape.

She was Mrs. Gregory. Now and forever.

She took the comforting realization to sleep, Dash spooning her as they turned on their sides toward the window looking out onto Fremont Street.

“What do you think?” he whispered in her ear. “Stay an extra day.”

“Sure.” She’d prefer to spend all their time here.

She snuggled against her husband and watched what lights were visible until she drifted away, thankful the neon cowboy couldn’t see them.

Join me next Thursday when I interview my fellow Resplendence Author Amber Daulton. ~Tina

Saturday Sexcerpt – Cry Me a River by Livia Quinn

Please welcome back Livia Quinn.  Livia, do you have a sexy excerpt you’d like to share with us?

I’d love to. This is the first love scene between my Tempestaerie, Tempe Pomeroy, and her human sheriff boyfriend, Jack Lang, from Cry Me a River.

 

 Jack

Looks like faking it will be out of the question…

The term “fly apart in my arms” took on a whole new meaning. I’d lied to Tempe. My best guess had been memories of thousands of jet flights and the excitement of revisiting them, but this was more, it was primal; it was unearthly; it was tied to the storm woman I was buried inside. I didn’t want our lovemaking to end. I’d felt like this when I flew F-18s, suspected it was like doing crack—the rush, the heightened response, the ecstasy.

No, this was more than primal, more than leaving the bounds of the earth. Images of roiling clouds, racing stars and eyes with meteor showers in them preceded a loud crack. I felt the lightning bolt between my thighs, heard thunder in my groin, and heat exploded along my shaft as I claimed this woman for my own.

She screamed, “Ah Jaluu,” and I knew in my heart, in that part of me that had longed for someone like her who could be the one, that her soul called to mine. I thought I’d been ready for this, but I’d been as much a virgin as I had as a fifteen-year-old. Nothing could’ve prepared me for this—for her.

Her hands dug into my shoulders as she joined the stars or storms or wherever she went. Her skin sparkled like the iridescent light filtering in through the skylights. A distinctive, translucent pink cast was tinting her hair an even deeper red, her flesh hot to the touch. I trailed my fingers down over her breasts, cupping them, rising enough to nip at the hot, turgid tips, when my gaze caught on the scraps of material at her hips.

The edges of the cami she’d worn were charred, the panties as well. Only enough lilac remained that I could identify them. I looked at the mattress beneath us. There was a ring of fire, and scorched black what-used-to-be sheets in the outline of our bodies, like a controlled burn at the edge of a wildfire.

A wildfire begun by a lightning strike. It had been real, not just my imagination. And I wasn’t even singed.

“Jesus, sweetheart, you give new meaning to the word, ‘hot’. You set the sheets on fire.”

I pointed to the air, flickering like indoor heat lightning but gradually fading. Then down at the bed. “Look’s like faking it will be out of the question for you, honey.”

Join me next Thursday when my fellow Resplendence Author Cammie Eicher joins us. ~Tina

Saturday Sexcerpt – Riverswept by Anneka Ever

HRriverswept

When I asked Anneka if she had a sexy excerpt to share she answered “Of course.”  Below is  from her novel “Riverswept”. 

His eyes gleamed in the faint light of the dash. She thought of the wolves watching them from the dark and then she thought of the unknown person trying to get in her house. She started to shake. Grasping the door handle, she said, “Why don’t you come inside for a while?”

He followed her to the cottage but stood at the entrance. “I don’t want to get your floor wet. I’m dripping.”

Lightning flashed in the patch of sky framed by the door, creating an amethyst corona behind him. She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him inside. He didn’t even give her time to shut the door before he embraced her. She touched her lips to the raindrops on his face and then pulled back to see his reaction. He stared at her with an intense expression. His eyes glinted like gold.

He lifted her arms and placed them around his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist. A tic pulsed in the hollow of his throat. She laid her head against his chest and listened to his heart thump. Her brain screamed Danger! Danger! Danger! Her body ignored her brain.

She slid her hands under his damp shirt. She explored the topography of his chest. Moving her arms around him, she ran her fingers down his spine. She found two dimples in his lower back. Her thumbs fit there, as if his body had been designed to complement hers. She sighed. His mouth turned up just enough to let his dimple slip. He kissed her gently, his lips pressed against hers in a simple buss. The restraint in that kiss kindled such a fire inside Molly that she knew hell couldn’t be as hot as she was at that moment.

She pulled away from him and stumbled into the kitchen. Following her, he lifted her onto the counter. Sliding the sundress up to the top of her thighs, he placed his hands on her knees, pulled them apart, and stepped into the open space. Moaning, she wrapped her legs around him. Grasping his T-shirt, she peeled it off him and tossed it onto the floor. She grazed his nipple with her tongue; he tasted salty-sweet.

He lifted her into his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He leaned her back on the mattress and slid the dress down her body. Suddenly timid, she crossed her arms over her chest and closed her eyes.

Enveloping her body with his, he kissed her eyelids. “Look at me.” She turned her head. He clasped her chin and dragged her face back to his. “Please. Look at me.”

She opened her eyes. His golden hair hung around his face; his amber eyes narrowed with desire. Molly thought him splendid as the sun, her very own Helios.

Whispering to him in a language she did not know, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into her. They were together forever, or so it seemed during those sweet, aching moments. He was unselfish and uninhibited and skilled beyond her experience.

When they finished, they both fell back on the bed in a knot. His restless hands continued to explore her until he fell asleep. She lay awake a long time listening to the rain on the roof. She wondered if Alice had felt this bewildered when she fell down the rabbit hole.

Saturday Sexcerpt – Dangerous Beauty by Tali Spencer

Caution: Please note the below excerpt is Male/Male and  may contain scenes to steamy for vanilla readers.

When I asked Tali if she could share an excerpt with us her response was,

“I wouldn’t be a writer if I didn’t. Here’s a juicy one from Dangerous Beauty:”Dangerous Beauty Final #2

The man grabbed Endre’s other wrist and propelled him backward, suddenly off-balance, against one of the pergola’s granite pillars.

“Stay,” his assailant growled in a deep, barely accented voice. Holding Endre’s wrists pinned to the stone over his head, he pressed his body hard against his captive’s. His face slid beside Endre’s, rasping his cheek with bristles of beard. Full, lush lips caressed his ear, planting soft kisses, a hot tongue tracing its edges. “We’re being watched.”

Shit. Had Yanni circled back? One of his two guards wanting to see why he had not returned with the whore? It hardly mattered. The lips that had been softly plying his ear, driving him mad, had just found his mouth. What branded him now was raw and hot, urgent with need. Arshad sucked at his lips, seeking access and finding it, pulling from him the attraction he had fought against for weeks. Endre’s cock thickened with arousal, pushing against the body trapping his against the pillar.

Footsteps sounded on the gravel path, stopped, waited. Someone was there, listening for sure and maybe watching. His guard should have interrupted; Yanni surely would have. This had to be someone else. Frozen by indecision, Endre allowed Arshad’s lips to continue their artful assault. Sweep by sweep, those firm lips commanded his and he resisted less than he should have, kissing back, teeth on teeth, tongues warring as he fought for control. One of them would soon have to breathe and he broke first, throwing his head back, gasping for air. With a triumphant growl, Arshad began pressing hot kisses along the column of his exposed throat.

“Oh, Prophets!” Endre gasped. Overhead, moonlight spilled through the tangle of vines. He turned his head to the right and saw Arshad’s knotted hand manacling his wrist. Dense hair crushed against his cheek, the man’s mouth hot on his collarbone. His cock, already hard enough to be uncomfortable, stiffened painfully against his trousers and he groaned with need and discomfort from the now tight cock cuff.

Arshad ceased his kisses and slammed his body forcefully against him. “Everything you want,” he said, “I can give it to you. Every…fucking…thing.” Those powerful thighs ground his pelvis against Endre’s, rolling cock against stiff cock.

“Damn it, stop,” Endre grated, barely a whisper. Was their watcher still there? He didn’t even know. Worse, he no longer cared. His cock was on a rampage, straining against the cuff secured around his shaft and balls. He jammed his hips forward, pushing back, increasing the contact and the pleasure.

“Not on your life. You’ve been asking for this for weeks. This is what you’re here for, what you need. Not someone small and soft. You want it large and hard.” Arshad bent his head near again, lips brushing his ear, and murmured, “Say it, princeling. Let them hear you say you want it.”

That big hard cock was grinding against his now, creating such sweet friction he knew he would never last. Endre groaned against his clenched teeth. His head sagged forward, bumping Arshad’s shoulder, golden hair spilling across midnight velvet. He was on the fucking edge.

“Say it.” That dark voice vibrated softly beside his ear.

No, he wouldn’t do it. He wasn’t going to say it, no matter what his damn cock was feeling. He shook his head.

“Stubborn,” Arshad grunted. Taking the edge of Endre’s ear between his teeth, he gently bit.

“Ow!” When Endre’s head rocked back in surprise, those predatory eyes seized his with purpose before Arshad’s mouth descended, this time fiercely. His mouth was sealed by those lips, his breath trapped, as captive as he was. Something thick and hot, the other man’s tongue, thrust between his teeth to penetrate and fill him. Already lost to the demanding rhythm of the cock bumping and rubbing against his, he exploded, bucking against Arshad’s body as his shaft bunched and semen jetted into the confines of his trousers. His howl of protest and surrender was muffled by the supple, plundering muscle filling his mouth.

 Dangerous Beauty is available at Resplendence Publishing and also at AllRomance.