Sunday, December 3, 2017


Have you seen my reader exclusive giveaway?? YOU can win ebooks, a signed paperback, and swag from me ALL YEAR LONG!

Check my Author page to enter:



The Warden - Release Day!

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

HAPPY RELEASE DAY!




Don't mind the porny music that's a flashback to 1970's, I thought it gave the whole illicit love feel and if anything else I got a good laugh out of it. I hope you do too. :-) The Warden is a complete novella unrelated to any of my other books. This story was written for the Forbidden Anthology if you picked that up, it was available over the summer from July to September and included a number of dark/taboo romances by wonderful authors I got the opportunity to work with on the project.

Cohen Sheppard is our sexy undercover warden trying to break up a female gang and take down a big-time drug dealer on the outside. Benedicta Cruz has been wrongfully convicted of murder and now serving a sentence at the Colby Women's correctional facility. It's a little like Orange is the New Black meets Castle if you're looking for a comparison. It's light on the legal plot and more about the characters fighting their attraction until they give in. Yes, full disclosure, there's an age difference, but Nene is legal and Cohen is hot, so make of that what you will. :-) It IS a taboo story and a fun steamy read I hope you enjoy. xoxo

LINKS

📚Nook: http://bit.ly/WardenNook
📚Kobo: http://bit.ly/WardenKobo
📚Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2iDmpDs
📚Amazon UK: http://bit.ly/TheWardenUK
📚Amazon CA: http://bit.ly/TheWardenCA

📚Amazon AU: http://bit.ly/TheWardenAU
📖 Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/2AIhubW
📚TBR Goodreads: http://bit.ly/WardenGR








The Warden - Exclusive Excerpt!

Sunday, November 5, 2017

The Warden - a sexy new novella, releases on 11/21/17. 
Catch an excerpt here and see what all the fuss is about. 


EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT:

A knock on the door startled us, and I stepped away from being so close to Maris. Any familiarity would risk blowing our cover.
“Sir.” Garcia opened the door, eyeing both Maris and me. I cleared my throat, and he resumed walking in, pulling the baby-faced boyfriend killer behind him. He gripped her arm roughly despite the shackles she wore which were unnecessary in my office right now. I wanted to pull him off her but a look from Maris stopped me. I glanced at my files for her name. Benedicta Cruz, her head down and subdued for the moment.
“Garcia, can you escort Ms. Ramos here back to her cell. I’m sure she’s contrite after the episode in the lunchroom.” Garcia’s face twisted in a cruel smile, making me uncomfortable. I masked my emotions carefully giving him no reason to suspect anything. Maris walked out the door, leaving him to follow after her ass as she sashayed down the hallway. I’d have to watch Maris, make sure my partner didn’t shank the head guard after this. That girl might be the death of me, but right now I had to attend to this one in my office. 
Benedicta finally looked around the room with a curious expression. At face value, I was struck by how innocent she looked. Baby-faced was right. Plump cheeks not yet angled by age and smooth skin my hand itched to touch. Clenching my fist, I also knew how looks could be deceiving. 
“Please, sit down.” Gesturing to the chair Maris vacated, the young woman sat down slowly. Her tired movements were deceptive looking like an old woman, which belied her actual age. I observed everything I could about her, wondering if this was just another shrewd contradiction to the truth of who she was according to her file. 
The clock above the doorframe ticked loudly. I walked around the desk sitting in my chair. 
“I called you in here because I wanted to meet you, review your file, and see how you’re acclimating.” A puff of air escaped from her mouth, the only response I got while her gaze drifted to the window overlooking the sunny yard. I found it irritating that I didn’t command her full attention. Being dismissed by two women in one day bothered me more than I cared to admit. My partner had a free pass; this one did not.
“Well?” I asked her, pressing for more than just acknowledgment.
“You read the file. I’m here for four years, seven months and twenty-nine more days.” God, she was like a reinforced brick wall guarding herself. I crossed my arms and leaned back in my chair assessing her.
“Yes, under the assumption you exhibit good behavior.” Her head snapped up so quickly, I was afraid she would wrench her delicate neck. Looking me in the eyes directly, those hazel orbs seemed to sparkle with a hint of defiance and maybe fear. Fear I didn’t like, but that defiance piqued my interest, and my cock hardened shielded from view under the desk. 
“What does that mean?” A gentle voice tinged with anxiety answered back. 
“It means if you stay out of trouble we won’t have to keep meeting like this.” I smiled to reassure her, but she quickly looked away, apparently tuning me out again. I hated that she gave the birds sitting on the window sill more attention. I was the person in charge of her stay here, but she didn’t seem interested in that fact at all. The only information I had on her was in the file. The investigator in me wanted to know more. How did she end up here serving a sentence for murder?
“I know that Maris provoked you. I spoke with her about that.” She snorted saying nothing more except to squeeze her eyes shut and shake her head.
“She’ll leave you alone from now on.” I promised.
“I’m sure she will.” Ms. Cruz was a tough cookie. Why would she have killed someone close to her? What happened in her life which led her down that destructive path?
“She will because I said so.”
“Do you need a special thank you?” Her eyes met mine. I smirked and leaned over the desk. God, my hand needed something to do before I hauled her up out of the seat and into my lap to spank her myself. All these inappropriate thoughts were dangerous and I skirted the line like never before. I had a job to do, boundaries to maintain and this slip of a girl-well, it wasn’t her fault I was attracted to her and it wasn’t my place to get involved in something insidious. What was it with the women I interacted with today? Instead, I reached for a retractable pen on my desk, clicking it twice before tossing it down. 
I let the thank you remark go for now.
“So why did you it, Ms. Cruz?” I picked up the manila folder with her name and inmate number on the tab flipping through papers skimming them over.
“Curious?” She sat back in the chair, her hands clinking from the shackles she currently wore from shaking. 
“The file says you hit him.” I flipped the pages to the investigative report provided. 
“Thirty-three times.” Her voice dropped low, and her gaze went back to the fucking window, ignoring me. If she kept this up, I would shut the blinds to force her attention. 
“In the head.” I clarified wondering how long she would remain impassive. 
Still nothing, and I said, “I imagine it was a fucking mess.” The blood splatter alone would have landed everywhere covering her. Had the detectives found soiled clothes? I rummage through the report but nothing was mentioned. For some reason, it bothered me. A lot of things bothered me, apparently. 

“I imagine it was.”



LINKS:
📚Nook: http://bit.ly/WardenNook
📚Kobo: http://bit.ly/WardenKobo
📚Amazon US: Coming Soon
📚Amazon UK: Coming Soon
📚Amazon CA: Coming Soon
📚Amazon AU: Coming Soon

📖 Amazon Paperback: http://amzn.to/2AIhubW
📚TBR Goodreads: http://bit.ly/WardenGR


The Vault - Venture Inside The Forbidden

Sunday, October 22, 2017




Title: The Vault: Volume One
A Sinfully Sexy Collection
Authors: Various
Genre: Romance Anthology
Release Date: October 17, 2017



Blurb

Alpha males. Dirty talkers. Bad boys. Bikers. Detectives. Mobsters. Dominant. Billionaires. Irresistible men next door. Whatever kind of man makes your pulse pound and panties wet, he’s waiting inside.

This collection of twenty-two new romance novellas is sure to heat up your days and steam up your nights.

When you venture inside The Vault, you never know what you'll find. Come inside ... if you dare.

Sweet. 
Devilish. 
Dangerous. 
Romantic. 
Raw. 
Funny. 
Dark. 
Powerful. 
Unforgettable.

See what awaits you inside The Vault.





Titles

A.D. Justice - Warning
A.M. Hargrove - For The Love of My Sexy Geek
Aleatha Romig - Unconventional
C.A. Harms - Raw
Gina Whitney - Stilettos and Broken Bottles
Hilary Storm - Ridin’ Dirty
Kate Benson - Redemption
Katherine Rhodes - Innuendo
Kathy Coopmans - Parole
Katie Ashley - The Plan
Liv Morris - Sweet Seconds
M.C. Cerny - Declan's Demand
M. Stratton - In His Arms
Michelle Dare - Uncuffed
MJ Fields - Terzetto
Nina Levine - Risk
S. Moose - Adjusting the Deal
S.D. Hildreth - Mister Prick
T.K. Leigh - Inferno
Terri E. Laine - Honey
Tia Louise - Sundown
Toni Aleo - Not The One




Giveaway


Declan's Demand Cover Reveal and Chapter One Excerpt!

Thursday, October 12, 2017

Declan is coming. 

Are you ready to meet his demands?



PREORDER NOW!

Amazon: http://amzn.to/2z4pyCb


EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE - DECLAN


A lovely buzzing bee hovers annoyingly close in my personal space forcing the muscles in my shoulders to flex. The voice begs, pleading unsuccessfully. Light floral scents cut through the thick cologne and traces of sex permeate the dark swirling in her wake. Sydney Meadows is a breath of fresh air and wide eye innocence pushing through the cynicism and saccharine pretentiousness I’ve grown accustomed to throughout the club. I have no friends here and no one I trust outside my shrinking inner circle of family and business associates. This is the legacy left to me by my father and a world of old school mob bosses with deep pockets and big dicks. 
I watch her.
I want her.
I can’t have her.
My twisted moral code rebels. 
She’s a kitten trying to be a lion, but a kitten is still a kitten, young and naïve. It’s a shame I’m meeting her under these circumstances, forced to step on her delicate petals of pride bruising them irreparably. I should feel bad. Any normal moral man would feel bad, but I am none of those things. Sydney would be better off with some idealistic college millennial who eats kale and protests on the weekend. Violence is my bread and butter no matter how much one tries to sugarcoat what I do. The mere fact that my life is intersecting with hers now in anyway is sacrilegious. 
She approaches me trembling with sweat coated skin above the cupid’s bow of her lip begging for a kiss. A taste. I shut my eyes jaw clenched wishing she were anywhere but here.
“Please, you have to understand.” Hands reach out to claw at me in a last ditch attempt to get my attention. Her short painted nails remind me of seashells and retract when my eyes narrow. No one touches me uninvited. Least of all some girl I don’t know biblically and even then I prefer them restrained. I turn to walk away, my security detail closing ranks around me blocking her off. Anyone could be a possible threat, even a sweet looking girl. 
I watched dogs in the alley get better scraps than this girl pitifully crying her overly large blue eyes out, lips trembling, and tears spilling over apple plump cheeks. The full on blubber fest mottles her milky white skin into horrid splotches of red while words I only half understand pour from her mouth. Something about debts, her father, and the police are clear enough to make out giving me a headache. Husking out a breath I wave her off. My attempt to shoo her away does nothing and I’m forced to wonder if she’s stupid not knowing who I am. 
People always want something from me. A favor. Cash. Drugs–if I still moved those. The person from five years ago would have shut her up by sticking her mouth on my cock instructing her to suck me off. Today, my dick turtles back thinking about the tears that soak her pale t-shirt and her girl next door look reminds me of things from my childhood like pretty school teachers and nuns with rulers. It’s not exactly the wet t-shirt contest I used to enjoy on Thursday nights in the club either. My how times have changed. 
“Please Mr. Natas.” She licks her lips starting her fresh round of breathless whines. “You have to listen to me.”
Growling, I turn mid step bumping into the girl who has no business being inside my club, let alone bothering me if she knew what was good for her. Waving her out of my way would have caused her to fall down several steps so I restrain myself from lashing out. She almost, almost shrinks back before grabbing my Brioni suit lapels with balls most men I deal with don’t have. Actually, it’s kind of cute. I find myself a curious mixture of intrigued and irritated as I force her to take a step back picking her hands off me in a harsh grip. My hands could easily crush the delicate bones and knowing this I rein my temper in. She’ll already wear my mark of matching bracelets bruising the skin and that’s good enough for me.
“Pretty girl, I don’t have to do anything. You father made a deal with my rival. Why should I give a fuck what happens to him and his pound of flesh?” I hated liars, but I hated dirty cops even more. They were supposed to uphold the law, not abuse it despite the fact that I took pleasure in breaking it and often when the mood suited. 
Her throat bobs as her chin trembles. My mind strays wondering what it would look like watching her full pale lips extend around my cock pumping cum down her throat. 
“B-because you’re a better man. A merciful one.” She’s adorable playing the heartbroken daughter. It’s a shame I don’t feel like taking on a new submissive. Breaking her would be joyous and if I’m honest a real good stick it to dad moment. No man liked thinking about his daughter getting dick from a well-known criminal, dirty cop or not. I wonder if he knows that his precious baby girl is here begging for his worthless life. 
Probably not. 
“Merciful?” She must be joking and holding back my laugh in the face of her tears is a struggle. “I’m sorry doll. You must have gotten your saints messed up. I’m after less honorable pursuits.”
Those small breakable hands hold tight again. 
“Declan please.” She makes my hackles rise with her persistence. My recollection of the word please typically centers on hookers begging for my cock, not sweet girls who lack brains.
I get in her personal space and run my hands down her silky soft arms feeling the goose bumps pepper her skin. 
“Sydney, I would want you for one thing only and I would forget your name before the orgasm was even over.”
She gasps.
“No one is that cruel.” Her eyes flood with unshed tears and I drive my point home further. She has no idea how cruel I can be–must be. 
“I don’t make love. I don’t cuddle, and I definitely don’t call the morning after. I would fuck you just to defile you.” Biting back my grin, I watch her shudder. If I had her would her whole body convulse like that? From my dirty talk alone? I shake it off reminding myself she’s not worth the trouble. 
I lean in and whisper, “Be a good girl, Sydney. Get the hell out of my club before I have the boys bring you back to dad a little less wholesome.” Releasing her, she stumbles back and I brush past her grabbing a glass of Dair Ghaelach on my way to the lounge area. 
I’m pointlessly hoping my favorite whiskey will drown out her face and whimpers. She collects herself, maybe bracing the rod of steel in her spine before stalking out. Good. I don’t need more complications in the form of a barely five foot church going mouse.
Sipping my drink, I watch her reflection in the mirror, light brown hair bouncing behind her thin shoulders as she leaves in a hurry scurrying past regulars who don’t give her a wide enough berth bumping into her, some even groping. Funny how my drink curdles in the back of my throat going down watching the men steal touches they don’t deserve. I wouldn’t allow myself to touch her, but I don’t like them thinking they can either. My club isn’t a free-for-all. 
Eyes narrow, I nod to Stevens and Rhodes my bodyguard detail to follow her. I hate surprises, but I hate not having answers even more. My nod tells them to tail her and find out what they can down to every last detail of her garbage. It’s a necessary precaution in my work. Know thy enemy better than one’s self. 
Neil speaks interrupting my thoughts. 
“You’re a real dick sometimes Dec. She’s just a girl.” My brother chuckles free to grab a seat next to me. He’s a smoother version of me. Whereas I’m all hard angles and coarse language, Neil is the peacemaker, softer, and the second born. 
“Don’t know. Don’t care.” And I didn’t care except for the niggling doubt that maybe I missed something in Sydney’s desperation. Something I didn’t give her time to convey in my rush to wash my hands of it. Too little too late I suppose. I wasn’t about to do a do over or call her back to torture me with her blue eyes. 
I shake off any guilt I might feel mumbling. “Besides, what kind of man sends his daughter, even a beautiful one to do his dirty work? How can I respect a chap whoring out his kid just so I can take on his gambling debts?” The drink slow burns down my throat as I finish and pour another. There isn’t enough alcohol to drown away the sins I collect thinking about Sydney Meadows groveling at my feet and the fantasy of my cum dripping from her honey sweet lips. 
“I’m guessing the boys are on it.” He says and I grunt nodding to where Stevens and Rhodes once stood flanking the doorway. 
“Doubtful he’d ever pay up those debts, especially a hundred grand if he thought his daughter could work them off. And, hey what’s she got that I want in exchange beside a tight pussy?” 
“Her soul maybe?” Neil quips. 
My hands wanted to circle her waist, pull her flush against me and ravish her mouth to shut her up. I bet her tears would have tasted briny and bitter as she realized the depths she had sunk in coming here to bargain with me. I always take the coarsest payment possible. I wouldn’t have made it easy for her just because she’s a girl. 
Barking, I laugh. “I’m not the devil, Neil. I’m just a man trying to run a legit business with these stupid cops making deals to line their pockets. Takes a lot more energy to do things by the books these days since I took over for dad.” 
And wasn’t that the honest truth?
“He certainly left a mess of things.” Neil and I toast to new beginnings. Thinking about dear old dad leaves an aftertaste too vile for good Irish whiskey to obliterate. He’s lucky he’s dead. A bullet to the back by our rival otherwise I would have shot him twice myself for the disaster I’m left with. 
“Might as well find out what Officer Meadows got himself into.” I like surprises even less than fuck ups.
“Right, and who needs a cop’s brat sniffing around to fuck that up?” Another drink appeared on the table courtesy of my liquor therapist.
I tap the bar winking at my sister. She’s a miniature identical version of Neil. She favors my women and business interests even less which make her a good bartender as my eyes and ears. 
“There’s my Tabitha. Shield your claws Tabby cat. Ms. Meadows won’t be returning.” Although, watching her determined gate walk away, even I’m not so sure of that.
“I’ve got a grand she’s back within the month.” Neil tosses a bunch of bills on the table.
“Come on brother; make the bet a little more fun than that.” I egg him on straightening out his pile of hundreds. 
“Jesus Dec, this isn’t a bet on a Rugby game.” He grouses and I ruffle his hair making him duck away like we’re teens again. 
“Cheapskate. I say she’s back by Friday for ten grand.” Tabby hisses refilling our drinks and then wiping the counter down. My little sister is a tough one to crack. Sympathy was beaten out of her by our father and later a boyfriend who cut her face scarring her beauty. That fucker is currently treading water in the bay courtesy of my relocation program. 
Neil hunches over with sudden interest. “What makes you say that? Are you going to interfere like you usually do?” Either way a bet is a bet. It will be bad news for Miss Meadows if Tabby takes to meddling.  
Tabby winks. “She’s a girl, she looks resourceful. Besides Friday night Dec lets the ladies dance on stage.”
I scoff taking a long drink.  
“Ladies… sure.” If you could call the hookers who show up looking for dumb johns I suppose we have those in spades dancing at the club. I hadn’t taken a club girl home in long time… the occasional quickie in my office, well, that was another story.  
“I think I just lost this bet, Dec.” Neil tosses a drink back and I envy how relaxed he seems. 
“Of course you did, idiot.” I nod at him. 
Neil asks, “What are you going to do about it?” 
My brother thinks I will intervene on her behalf, but I won’t. These things always have a way of working themselves out.  

“Children, children.” I chide my siblings finishing the Dair Ghaelach. “If she knows what’s good for her she won’t be back at all.” I smile through the bullshit because I know she’ll be back. It’s not a question of if… it’s a question of when. 


CHECK OUT ALL THE VAULT COVERS:


PREORDER NOW!
RELEASES OCTOBER 17th. 






THE VAULT

Monday, September 18, 2017

THE VAULT 

✮ - ✮ - ✮ COVER REVEAL & PRE-ORDER✮ - ✮ - ✮
I am so ridiculously excited and honored to be a part of this amazing collection of authors and their stories. 

What happens when you lock 22 authors in a vault and don’t let them come out until they’ve finished their books?
...You get one sinfully sexy collection!
Sweet.
Devilish.
Dangerous.
Romantic.
Raw.
Funny.
Dark.
Powerful.
Unforgettable.
See what awaits you inside The Vault.

PREORDER NOW!-- 
Amazon Alert: http://bit.ly/2xr5rAl

Cover Designer: Dana with Designs by Dana
Photographer: Lindee Robinson Photography
Models: Michael Pack & Cassaundra Fitch

AUTHORS & TITLES
A.D. Justice: Warning
A.M. Hargrove, Author: For The Love of My Sexy Geek
Aleatha Romig: Unconventional
CA Harms: Raw
Gina Whitney: Stilettos and Broken Bottles
Hilary Storm: Ridin’ Dirty
Katherine Rhodes: Innuendo
Kate Benson: Redemption
Katie Ashley: The Plan
Liv Morris: Sweet Seconds
M.C. Cerny: Declan’s Demand
M. Stratton: In His Arms
Michelle Dare: Uncuffed
MJ Fields: Terzetto
S. Moose author: Adjusting the Deal
SD Hildreth: Mister Prick
T.K. Leigh: Inferno
Tia Louise: Sundown



BRANDED - Exclusive Excerpt

Monday, April 3, 2017

Sloan Tanner doesn't take no for an answer. 
Welcome back to The Club.


Add on Goodreads ➜ http://tinyurl.com/zfb7qjn



EXCLUSIVE EXCERPT
PROLOGUE - LANGLEY

“What do you see, pretty girl?” Sloan’s voice called out to me, caressing the back of my neck into a pop of goosebumps despite the heat of the evening sun setting. He found me standing outside the corral to Blackjack’s pen. The horse’s hooves kicked up red dust and dirt that covered everything including my legs standing so close to the corral fence. I stepped up on fence watching the horse. The black stallion circled the female, snorting while she made muted bleats. I tried to appear casual, looking over my shoulder at the man I called master, and smiled. I nodded toward his horse well aware that my answer was insolent in his narrowed gaze. His tan skin looked radiant, glowing under the flannel button-down shirt he wore tucked into his denim jeans. Dark brown cowboy boots encased his feet which were steady and shoulder width apart stalking toward me. I shivered with anticipation remembering the night before. Sloan had a thing about balance and obviously practiced it in all things he did in and out of the bedroom, even something as simple as walking toward me. 
I turned away to swallow the dryness from my throat that had little to do with the dust, as well as hide the flush in my cheeks. I was lucky I’d earned my dress today, otherwise I would have been watching Blackjack from the confines of the heated tiles in the Spanish kitchen. Clothes seemed to be optional under Sloan’s tutelage, especially if I misbehaved. For once, I was grateful for the hot wind that licked my face in the humidity of Texas in the midst of summer. The braid I kept my hair in was wild and knotty; the wind tangled the braid into a thick rope perfect for a master’s grasp. 
An unsatisfied grunt filled my ears. I could have answered him demurely. I should have, but I rarely followed his rules keeping our agreement interesting. Sloan, not one to take my silence as a good thing, crowded me up against the wooden pole fence I stood on. Thick arms rested against the sanded posts encasing me. Anxiously, I looked at the cords of muscle exposed by the rolled up sleeves of his shirt. His arms were larger than the fencing that separated me from certain danger. His strength was restrained for the moment. I wasn’t sure where the oasis of safety resided—in the pen with Blackjack or outside with the Dominant.
“What’s he doing?” I asked, referring to the animal with the sleekest silky coat of hair and the darkest pulsing eyes I had ever seen. His energy was palpable and reminded me of a brewing storm barely under control and waiting to break free in an explosion. Horses terrified me which was no secret to Sloan, and one of the reasons he warned me to stay back from the fence. Blackjack had broken free on two separate occasions trying to get to the mares in heat. Curiosity won me over, and I found myself venturing from the house after dinner to watch the stallion throw his latest temper tantrum. The horse was obviously in the throes of lust and looking to mate. His nostrils flared, exposing his teeth and skirting the mare with the shiny brown and white painted coat.
Sloan leaned in close, his mouth a hairsbreadth away from my ear whispering, “Same thing I’m gonna do to you, Luchadora.” Before I could object, his arm hauled me close around the waist grinding his hips into my backside. The nickname he gave me purred from his lips abrading every inch of my skin. His touched enlivened me with awareness as his jeans chafed me. His palm came around to cup my sex, slipping between slick folds, and I arched into him craving more. I hadn’t worn underwear in the week I had been here, and the air kissed my damp skin. I found it unfair in the moment that I wasn’t allowed to touch Sloan unless instructed to do so. Instead I grabbed the rail, hanging on. If I didn’t I would have fallen, not that Sloan would have let me, but still the anticipation was thick between us.
Arousal was a heady thing. I moaned, letting the wind take my voice. Sloan readjusted us against the fence to keep me from falling, speaking into my hair. “Watch him court her.” 
Blackjack danced around the mare, his hooves stomping the ground, tossing his head up into the air, hind legs kicking out. A wild look filled his eyes, and I turned my head to see the same reflected in Sloan’s. If he kissed me, his tongue would have been fire licking at my lips. I wanted to burn, but he didn’t kiss me. Instead his palm directed my cheek back to the horses in the field. His denial should have hurt, but it only inflamed my want for him further. 
We were both heavy of breath and metaphorically circling each other, his hips to my backside. He caressed the ridge of my spine under the loose house dress, slipping his large hand over my butt cheeks and between my legs, pushing them apart for balance on the fence. His hand wasn’t exactly gentle as he positioned my legs on the railing, forcing me to grip the top railing and lean into it. The blunt tip of his finger dragged over my clit before leaving me panting and dripping. 
“He’s going to mate?” The question seemed stupid once it left my lips; I knew exactly what the horse was doing. Sloan’s hand was busy working to undo his large, shiny belt buckle shaped like a bucking horse. The metal rested hot on my skin before he pulled it out of the belt loops, snapping as he dropped it onto the dusty ground. He undid the clasp to his jeans, pulled them coarsely between us, resting halfway down his muscular thighs. He kept one hand holding me by my breast, his hand squeezing and molding under his grasp. The zipper on his jeans scraped my skin, and I pushed back feeling the exposed, crisp, springy hairs covering his sex. I swore he smelled different like this, all male and musky making me drunk on him.
“He’s going to rut, fuck, and breed her.” He informed me through a forced breath as his fingers continued to roughly part my lips below. I wasn’t ready for Sloan’s entry. I rarely was unless he spent time preparing me because he was so big, and I still wasn’t used to him no matter how wet I was. It was pure friction when he entered me with those first initial strokes, and my craving to burn was satisfied. He didn’t flick my clit or bother fingering me to get me aroused. Instead, he pushed forward, skin on skin breaching my inner walls, pressing them apart with enough pressure to make me cry out into the vast valley of prairie hills before us…and to think I wanted to leave boring Ohio for something different... 


CONTINUE READING:

Add on Goodreads ➜ http://tinyurl.com/zfb7qjn

 
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