WHAT KIND OF TWISTED REALITY IS THIS?
Title: Twin Savage
Author: Sunniva Dee
Release Date: October 16, 2017
Grief comes in many forms.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve… Right?
Except, what if you douse that grief with sex
in ways so culturally unacceptable
you leave it to a veritable male harem
led by the porn-star brother of your fiancé
to decide if you’ll emerge
from the jungle intact?
Twin Savage is standalone book #2 in the Porn Star Boyfriend series.
It wasn’t a problem to be the only girl in a house full of guys.
Until my fiancé died and his identical twin took over the roost.
Sweet, easygoing Julian passed, while loathsome, bossy Luka, who pays his way through med school by getting his dick wet on film, is still alive.
What kind of twisted reality is this?
Now, Luka’s on a mission to fix both of our grief.
Like I’d ever accept anything from him.
He doesn’t understand that gorgeous and sexy mean nothing if you’re a promiscuous jerk.
If only the nights didn’t destroy me.
They’re painful and long and empty,
until, on a Monday night, my insomnia attracts Diego.
That Tuesday, it attracts Lenny.
Next, it’s Marlon, James, Nathaniel,
and on Saturday, it’s Connor.
By Sunday night, I get the picture.
This is Luka doing what Luka does: solve problems with sex.
His remote-controlled comfort leaves me in our roommates’ arms six of seven nights.
On Sunday, there’s only one man left in the house.
There’s no way in hell I’m opening my door—or my heart—to a porn star.
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Once again, Sunniva Dee puts her unique twist on a story and makes you second guess everything you think you know about romance. She gives you subtle nuances and she slaps you in the face with reality. She is amazing at giving you exactly what you expect and hitting you with the things you never saw coming. Most importantly, she gives you stories that are anything but predictable.
I was a big fan of Geneva. She was smart and strong and doing her best to get through a terrible tragedy. She was not a big fan of Luka, but after everything she went through, it made sense she needed someone to direct her anger towards. She also needed comfort, and when Luka was unable to do it himself, he made sure someone was looking out her for. Luka was his own kind of interesting. He was a series of contradictions, at times the perfect guy and other time the polar opposite of that. I didn’t always love everything Luka did, but at other times I loved him completely. If I could say one thing I wish was different, I wish I had gotten to know Luka better in the first part of the book.
This story took me places I never expected (both literally and figuratively) and I loved almost all of it (except when I really hated it LOL) As always, Sunniva Dee isn’t content to make you feel one or two emotions, she wants you to feel ALL of the emotions and this book definitely delivers.
“I wish he didn’t do that,” I tell Lenny as I relax, cheek on his chest, drawing small circles around his nipple. “Luka thinks he’s the king of this place, in charge of everything that goes on here.”
“He kind of is.” Lenny’s voice is lazy. By now, I know he slides into a euphoric coma after he ejaculates. It’s adorable and a tad hot.
“No, he isn’t. Only about the rent and the utilities.”
“And about you.”
I lift my head and squint at him. “Luka is not in charge of me.”
Lenny narrows his eyes too, an easy feat. I ignore how beautiful he is beneath me. “No, but he’s who came up with our solution.”
“What are you talking about?”
He studies me, eyes widening more than usual after against-the-wall sex. “Hmm, you look like you’re working yourself up.”
“What does it matter? Just give me the lowdown.”
“Well, if you’re gonna go witch-nutty on me, I don’t know if I should.”
I lower my voice. “Witch-nutty? What does that even mean?”
“You know. All…” He lifts his hands in the air and waves them lazily while half-rolling his eyes. Not impressive.
“What solution, Lenny, or your sex life has to fend for itself from now on.”
“As if it doesn’t six days out of the week.”
“What did Luka come up with?”
“We had a house meeting.”
“It was about you, so yeah. We saw how you were struggling to keep it together after Julian passed away, and Luka came up with what we’re doing now.”
“As in invading my bedroom every night? Taking turns with me?”
“I guess?” He looks at me as if he just realizes how bad it sounds.
“That’s some crazy shit. Only a pervert like Luka could’ve come up with it.”
Lenny’s brows tick in a furrow. “Well, I figured it was too obvious to work on you, but Luka insisted, we gave it a try, and hey, you went along with it. You seem better too.”
My stomach churns. “Who does he think he is? He has no right to set up some get-’er-done plan for me. I’m in charge of my own life, my own future, and…” I sigh. “Luka’s a pig.”
I mean it. Even though I’m disgruntled, I twist my arms around Lenny’s middle needing his nearness. I’m not exactly backing myself up, here, but Lenny doesn’t hold it against me. Instead he wraps me closer and nuzzles against my hair. Murmurs, “Shh, you’re okay, babe.”
“What about the days? Did he assign them too?”
Lenny nods, rocking us with his chin. “Yeah, which made sense.”
“Why, because you didn’t want to deal with me more than once a week?”
He chuckles. “It was more so that we’d all have our turns consoling you.”
“Sleeping with me, you mean,” I say, feeling slutty and berating myself for it in the same thought.
“I’m not gonna lie and say it’s not a pleasure to comfort you.”
I arch an eyebrow. “So I shouldn’t feel bad for you guys?”
I let out a huh?
“Did you see Marlon earlier?”
I bite my lip. “Yes?”
“That’s how most of us feel the rest of the week. Tuesdays are the shit.”
“Even when I go all witch-nutty on you?”
His grin gleams white. “Have you heard me complain? Sparks are the shit too.”
#1 THE TRUTH ABOUT PORN STAR BOYFRIENDS
Sunniva Dee is a reader, a lover of everything beautifully written no matter the genre. As an author, she pens flawed characters and seeks the flip side where the soul hides. Once there, she wants to be pulled out of her comfort zone by stories taking on a life of their own.
Sunniva has written paranormal and young adult. She’s committed contemporary romance verging on erotica, and she’s dabbled in supernatural mystery. But her heart
is rooted in new adult of the true kind: young adult all grown up, with conflicts and passions that are familiar to college-aged readers and readers who remember those days like they happened last night.
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Plus, click here for a chance to #WIN a $100 Amazon Gift Card at Sunniva’s Author Page
Author: J.D. Hollyfield
Books Laid Bare – “Loved every single word!”
FMR Book Grind – “5 Panty Melting Stars!”
2 Amy’s Love Reading – “J.D. Hollyfield really knows how to steam up the pages.”
Drive by Kate Stewart is LIVE!!!
BUY LINKS http://amzn.to/2xH25G1
Music . . . the heart’s greatest librarian.
The average song is three and a half minutes long; those three and a half minutes could lead to a slow blink, a glimpse of the past, or catapult the soul into heart-shattering nostalgia.
At the height of my career, I had the life I wanted, the life I’d always envisioned. I’d found my tempo, my rhythm. Then I received a phone call that left me off key.
You see, my favorite songs had a way of playing simultaneously. I was in love with one man’s beats and another’s lyrics. But when it came to the soundtrack of a life, how could anyone choose a favorite song? So, to erase any doubt, I ditched my first-class ticket and decided to take a drive, fixed on the rearview.
And the long road home to the man who was waiting for me.
I’ll start with this: This book is from another dimension.
First the blurb talked to me on a almost spiritual way. Music is, with books, something I’m really passionate about. I can dedicate hours, days, obsessing over lyrics and melody. I’m okay with saying I’m a tad crazy when it comes to music. So when I learned that Kate Stewart, one of my favorite authors, was about to write a book around music, rock star, concert, passion, I was in, eyes closed.
Then, the writing. This woman can write, and her words are powerful. I don’t want to spoil the book but when an author makes you crave words like she did, that’s what I call true magic.
I am completely enamored with this story. Definitely one of her best works, Kate Stewart takes us on an emotional journey, one you will not forget. I never expected this book to pull so many heartstrings but it did. It freaking did, to my utmost amazement.
has become – purgatory. Floating in the middle of what could’ve been and what’s
never going to happen.
future. Every step forward, guarantees ten steps back. Regret entwined with an
addiction to bad decisions, living in the moment and neglecting the
consequences has become a way of life.
warning signs, I didn’t see him coming. He was supposed to be a distraction, a
bit of fun amidst all my chaos. But Elliot Ramzy turned out to be all that, and
so much more.
off novel and can be read as a complete standalone. The characters in this book
are originally featured in Devastate*
Sydney, Australia with her family, when she’s not busy writing her own stories,
she spends most of her time immersed in the words of her favourite authors.
LIGHTNING DOESN’T STRIKE TWICE. BUT LOVE MIGHT.
Title: This Time Is Different
Author: Mae Wood
Release Date: October 12, 2017
Life can change in a flash.
Marriage and a baby wasn’t Amy Forsythe’s college plan. After a shotgun marriage glued together by her son, she’s convinced that love isn’t meant for her. Now nearing forty and single for the first time since her senior prom, her friends are pushing her to date. Her teenager isn’t thrilled by the idea and neither is Amy.
Silver fox Thomas Popov isn’t looking for The One. He found her decades ago. And fell apart when she died. At fifty-three with a new job, a new city, and an empty nest, he’s focused on climbing the corporate ladder.
When a softball accident lands Thomas in Amy’s dental chair, sparks fly.
Lightning doesn’t strike twice. But love might.
This time is different.
Free with Kindle Unlimited
“Mr. Popov! I thought the appointment was for five,” I said, closing the door to my SUV after spotting him in the parking lot. He was leaning against his car and tapping on a phone, and his face was still a wreck.
“Yeah, it is. I wanted to beat traffic, so I’ve been taking some calls from your parking lot,” he replied, sliding the phone into his suit pants pocket. Silver hair, light blue dress shirt, rolled up at the sleeves, showcasing his muscular forearms. Someone plays a lot of softball.
“Okay, well, Jana should be here soon and then I can take a quick peek and you’ll be on your way.”
“No rush. And please, call me Thomas,” he said.
“Only if you’ll call me Amy.”
“Nice to meet you, Amy.”
He extended his hand, a friendly smile lighting up his face. The bruise was healing nicely, but the impact point was still purple with a large halo of yellow. It was mainly obscured by his salt and pepper scruff. I didn’t blame him for not shaving. Except for his lip, the skin hadn’t broken. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t any less tender from the trauma. In fact, I was impressed that he was able to smile through the ache.
“And you, Thomas,” I replied, hoisting my purse up my shoulder and clasping his hand. I expected a couple of quick businesslike pumps. What I got was different. His hand was big and warm and soft, making me feel delicate, but before I could process what was different, before I could categorize it into neat little bullet points—
“I’m here already. Just noticed you. Y’all are early,” called Jana from the office’s bright red front door.
As I pulled my head out of the clouds, where I’d just begun to wonder how soft the rest of his skin was, I started to withdraw my hand. But not before he gave a little squeeze. Was that a wink?
“Amy, real quick.”
“Will you have dinner with me? I’ve got a table at Brooklyn Bridge at six thirty. And I hear good things about the lobster ravioli and tiramisu.”
The heat that had been building in me quickly cooled. I hated pity dates. I hated when my friends shoved men into my path and hoped for the best. The only one ever truly happy was the friend doing the shoving. And I’d had enough pity from men to last my lifetime. Being alone was better than being pitied.
“Did Diana ask you to do this?” I inquired, narrowing my eyes at him, trying to discern his true intention behind his offer of my favorite meal.
“No. Though she told me what restaurant. So, that’s a yes?”
She didn’t con him into asking me out? It just didn’t make sense. Men didn’t ask me out because they wanted to. Men asked me out because they were obligated to. “That’s a—”
“Yes. Let that be a yes,” he said, another gentle squeeze on my hand that I thought I’d pulled away. Maybe he honestly did want to go on a date with me.
“And tiramisu?” I asked, testing the waters with my toe.
“Of course. And whatever else you want.”
A smile tickled at the corners of my mouth. Was he propositioning me? God, really? Me, mother of a seventeen-year-old being propositioned?
“They have a nice wine selection,” I said, wading further into the waters to see whether his eyes fell—a clear sign that Diana had pushed him into taking me out—or whether they lit up because he wanted to have dinner with me. In the three years since I’d started going on occasional dates, I hadn’t seen much light.
“There you go. We’ll have wine.” And there was light in his gray blue eyes. “Thank you.”
“Thank you?” My head spun. He was asking me on a date because he wanted to. Not because someone had pressured him into it. Or that he felt like he had to take me out. I honestly wasn’t sure if that had ever happened to me before. And I meant ever.
“Thanks for taking pity on an old man.”
“Oh, hush your mouth,” I said, letting go of his hand, resettling my purse on my shoulder and turning toward the office. “Let’s see if you’re ready to eat that lobster ravioli.”
As I checked his teeth and gums and lips for healing, I got caught up in his eyes. Thick dark lashes rimmed the soft gray blue.
“Whaaa?” he asked, around my fingers, and I remembered where I was—paused with my hands in my patient-turned-date’s mouth. Blue gloves, yoga pants, a lightweight hoodie over a blue tank top, and whatever random pile I swept my hair up into for my post-Pilates shower at the gym. Yeah, no fairy godmothers here. But at least I’d taken that shower.
“Looks good, Mr. Popov. I mean, Thomas,” I said, swiveling on the stool, stripping off the blue gloves and tossing them in the bin. “The lip looks good. Your gums are healing nicely and the teeth have firmed up. No discoloration or signs of stress. You got lucky.”
He pushed up from the exam chair, swinging his legs to the floor. “I did,” he said, looking at me square in the face.
Am I blushing? My cheeks felt warm. Is it warm in here? Is this perimenopause? Is this a hot flash? Because I hadn’t had a period in nearly two decades and was sneaking up on forty, every time I unexpectedly got warm, I wondered if I was entering menopause.
But I quickly realized that it wasn’t a life change. It was the big, handsome, and very forward man in my office. I didn’t know what to do because he clearly wasn’t talking about his softball accident. I spun around and typed a few notes into his record so that Diana could pull them up on Monday. I logged out of the computer, but not before taking a quick peek at the birthdate at the header of his profile. He was fourteen years and two months older than me to the day. May eleventh. He’d just turned fifty-three.
“Okay, you guys, let’s hit it. Thanks for coming in, Jana. I really appreciate it,” I said.
“Happy to, Dr. Forsythe. I’m going to go lock up,” said Jana, leaving the two of us alone.
“Am I cleared to eat?” he asked, standing up and offering his hand to me.
“Absolutely. As long as there’s no pain. Pasta would be a good starting food on the injured side.”
I placed my hand in his and it happened again. The warmth. The electricity. The parking lot wasn’t a fluke.
Free with Kindle Unlimited
Mae Wood is a mommy, bookworm, and lawyer (in that order).
A while ago Mae decided that she needed to give up the fear that she couldn’t write “great literature” and write what she wants to read.
And she wants romance. And laughter.
She wants heroines who are brave. Brave enough to be themselves and brave enough to fall in love.
She wants men who are strong and kind.
Mae lives in the Southeastern United States.
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This is definitely NOT your typical romance. And this IS the EXACT thing that made me love it.
A divorced mother of one, a widowed father of three. Add to that an age gap. And characters with REAL LIFE situations. Consider me sold.
And convinced by this sweet, drama free story, I was.
There’s romance, YES ABSOLUTELY. But there is also an insight into lives of parents who decide to start dating again, into the lives of the children of these characters, their struggles with their parents meeting someone.
Overall, I enjoyed reading this book. This is a solid 3.5 Stars for me! 🙂
From the award-winning author of MINE FOR NOW comes the next sizzling standalone story in her Wild Love Series available now, about a chance meeting that changes the course of two people’s lives! Don’t miss the amazing excerpt below and grab your copy of MINE FOR THE WEEK today!
About MINE FOR THE WEEK (Wild Love Series #2):
As the top collegiate shortstop in the country, Ryan O’Donnell’s life is about discipline and training. But a growing restlessness causes him to bail on his baseball team over spring break to join his buddies at an exclusive singles resort. He just needs a few days to escape his life, and then he’ll get right back on track. But not twenty minutes after he arrives he meets HER, and the world as he knows it changes irrevocably. It should only be a hookup—that’s what spring break’s all about—but one taste of this sexy, vibrant woman isn’t enough. He has to have her. Even if it’s only for a week.
Sophie Valentine—yes, that Valentine—just found out her siblings want to sell off Crazy Hearts—the Peeps of the Valentine’s Day world. Being the youngest by eight years, she’s used to feeling left out, but selling off her family’s legacy without talking to her first? Not gonna happen. Upset, she takes off with her friends on their spring break vacation. She only wanted an escape—she never imagined meeting HIM. He’s smoking hot and intensely protective of her—and she loves it. But he’s about to start a major league baseball career, and she’s launching a battle to keep the family company. They have no future. It’s just…she’s never felt this way for anyone before.
Are they really going to walk away from this kind of connection…this passion? Or can a week turn into a lifetime?
Order your copy of MINE FOR THE WEEK today!
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I’m a huge fan of Erika Kelly. I have been since she released You Really Got Me (if you haven’t read it…you should.) And this series is a great second effort. I LOVED the first book (Mine for Now) and this book is a great follow up. As always Erika delivers a great story with characters you can relate to, ups and downs that leave you guessing and romance, so much romance.
Ryan is not your typical hero. He’s a good guy, a never let anyone down guy, a do exactly what’s expected of him guy, and the stress is making him crazy. In an act that is absolutely out of character, he takes off and leaves his responsibilities behind (but we all know you can never do that right?) Then he meets Sophie and he’s thrown for a loop. Watching him struggle with finding his way and figuring out what’s right for him is heartbreaking at times, frustrating and emotional. Watching him figure out what to do with his feelings for Sophia is one hell of a roller coaster ride. And Sophie…Sophie is awesome. I wanted to be Sophie and be her best friend. She is fun, smart, independent but more than that….she’s unafraid to be herself and to fight for her convictions. It was wonderful to read a Heroine that is not a door mat, but is a strong character even if that means walking away. Erika writes some of the very best female leads and Sophie is no exception.
I was thrilled when I first had the opportunity to read this one and it did not disappoint. I loved the story and I hope this isn’t the last we see of these characters (there’s still one more brother that deserves to have his story told. Hint Hint. LOL) Erika Kelly proves why she’s one of my read-everything-she-writes-authors
And don’t miss the first title in the Wild Love Series!
“Soph?” His arm banded around her, and he hauled her closer to his chest. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself. He watched her with an unnerving intensity.
“Yes?” she said, barely able to speak. Was he going to kiss her?
But he just leaned his forehead against hers and let out a slow breath. “I’m about to defile my body, and I need your support.”
“Crazy Hearts are all about the lovin’.”
He fought a smile. “We’ll see about that.” He brought the cookie to his mouth and took a small bite. Immediately, his mouth puckered. He coughed, blowing the powdered sugar all over the desk. “That’s terrible.”
“No, it’s not. It’s beloved.”
“It’s like eating a mouthful of sugar. Is that the only ingredient?”
“Of course not. There’s also corn syrup, hydrogenated oil, artificial coloring, and some benzoate preservatives.”
“Jesus, Soph. You trying to kill me?”
“And, look, it’s not just a cookie.” She pulled his hand toward her, licking her lips before pressing them into the confectioner’s sugar. “It’s lipstick, too.”
He looked at her like she made him happy. “Everyone used to do that in middle school. I don’t know why it didn’t have this effect on me then.”
“Makes me want to kiss you.”
“I know. I’m a sexy beast.”
“You are so sexy.” He leaned in, lips parted, and he stayed right there, so close she could smell the cookie on his breath. Was he asking for permission? She didn’t know. All she knew was that one moment her breath was trapped in her throat and the next his tongue swept along her lips. Arousal streaked through her so hot and fast the soles of her feet burned.
“Delicious,” he murmured, before tipping her chin. And then he kissed her. The moment their mouths met, he moaned, his arms wrapping even more tightly around her. “You light me up.”
His mouth opened hungrily, his tongue sliding in and seeking hers. She couldn’t resist. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him right back.
Yes, oh, yes. Sensation spread from her center, a warm, thrilling rush that pulled her under. His hand went to the small of her back, pressing, and his kiss grew hungrier, more carnal.
“Damn.” His other hand gripped her thigh, and he shifted her, spreading her legs so she straddled him. And once he had her right there, pressed up tight against him, his hips rocked up.
And, God, the heat of his body, the silky softness of his hair. The urgency of his kiss. She slid her hands under his T-shirt, caressing the smooth skin and hard muscles of his chest. His stomach contracted, his arms tightened around her back, and his kiss turned voracious. She moaned into his mouth because nothing had ever felt so good.
About Erika Kelly:
Award-winning author Erika Kelly has been spinning romantic tales all her life–she just didn’t know it. Raised on the classics, she didn’t discover romantic fiction until later in life. From that moment on, she’s been devouring the genre and has found her true voice as an author. Over three decades she’s written poems, screenplays, plays, short stories, and all kinds of women’s fiction novels. Married to the love of her life and raising four children, she’s lived in two countries and seven states, but give her pen and paper, a stack of good books, and a steaming mug of vanilla chai latte and she can make her home anywhere.
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Author: Alyson Santos
Release Date: TODAY
It’s not easy being the bad guy.
Yeah, that’s a lie. It’s pretty damn simple. You act and you own it. You sell your soul to protect those you love and screw the rest.
It’s the restraint that’s hard. The demons that poke at your trigger, burn in your gut—just waiting for a second of freedom to unleash the fire in your soul.
Call me a villain. Call me whatever helps you sleep at night and feel good about the black and white of love. But watch your back because I don’t care. Until I do.
*Free with Kindle Unlimited
This was possibly my most anticipated book of 2017 based on two things. First, Night Shifts Black and Tracing Holland were both spectacular and in my Top Ten for last year. Second, Wes was a completely irredeemable jerk in Tracing Holland (and if you know me at all, you know I love assholes and redemption stories). But honestly, I had no idea it would be this good. I had no clue I could love two characters so completely. I never guessed Wes would absolutely captivate me. And I certainly never expected a three week book hangover. Yeah…never saw that coming. I absolutely, completely, passionately loved everything about Viper
This book was amazing. Alyson Santos does one thing better than anybody else, she tells beautiful, real, character driven stories. She never relies on fake drama or manufactured angst. She takes beautifully flawed characters and lets us take their journey with them. She lets us feel their emotions, revel in their triumphs and wallow in their mistakes. I screamed at Wes when he was stupid and obstinate and self-destructive, I cheered for him when he smart and selfless and protective, I swooned watching him grow the hell up and fall head over heels. Wes somehow, unexpectedly, inexplicably became my very favorite of all of the NSB boys. I adore him passionately.(I never thought Alyson could pull that off.)
But this book is not all about the boy. Hannah is just…Hannah is magnificent. Hannah is fighting her own set of demons, but damn is she one of my favorite female characters. She is fiercely loyal, she is smart and brave and funny and refreshing. Wes is not an easy guy to be with, he has bad judgement and bad vices at times. But Hannah handles it all beautifully, never distracted by the rhetoric, she is steady and compassionate. She is also insecure and unsure and sometimes struggles with making the important decisions. In other words…she’s remarkably human.
This story has so many brilliantly intertwined layers. It’s a ridiculously well crafted and intelligent. And subtle, it’s so beautifully subtle and understated. This is a book that moved me with words and phrases. It got me with quiet gestures and sweet sacrifices, instead of grand gestures and over the top declarations. This book made me feel everything, without making me feel manipulated. I absolutely adored the journey.
I’m having a hard time letting this one go. I couldn’t put it down. I blew off work and sleep to read this book and now, almost three weeks later, I still haven’t read anything else. Every time I think I might start something new, I pick up my kindle and start reading Viper again. You know how it goes, I pick it up to just read one or two of my favorite parts. But my favorites parts are pretty much the entire book and next thing I know, I’m finishing this one all over again. I have to admit, even as I go back and re-read, I’m blown away by the beauty of this story. Friendship and romance, family and forgiveness, first times and second chances, love and passion, regret and redemption….this book has everything. This book IS everything!!
I wake to pounding blood, excruciating pleasure. A wet dream? No, hot pressure controls my body. Dissolves me into my mattress. Oh god. My groan is cut off with a tongue, determined lips. Fingers push down my hips and clench.
“What are you doing?” I gasp. I’m her friend. I need to stop this. I… ah.
“Just this one time, I promise,” she breathes. I feel her nakedness. She didn’t invade my sleep to negotiate.
“Hannah, come on. You’re upset, you—”
“Now’s your chance to say no. Tell me to leave.”
She’s doing everything in her power to make sure I don’t.
My body is trained for this. My brain, not so much. When her mouth attacks me again, reason loses the rest of its weak protests. Some distant siren screams through the background. Regret. Guilt. Pain. But not yet. Tomorrow’s poison. Right now it’s skin and heat and pulsating need as she slides over me.
“Here. Found this. Your place is stocked.” I barely hear the tear of packaging. “Damn, Wes. Are you always ready?”
I know, worst time for irony, but there’s a definite smirk before she consumes me again. Hard this time. Deeper, her own moans make me crazy.
“I want you to own me like the others,” she gasps, and that siren screams, radiates through every cell corrupted in ecstasy.
“You’re not the others, Han. You’re…” There are no dirty words. There are no words at all for this. Just. Her. Hannah Drake. The only woman in the world I should not be fucking.
Night Shifts Black
I’m a writer, musician, and cat lover. I also have an alternative music obsession. Seriously, it’s a real problem.
I write what needs to come out, whether it’s pain, tears, or laughter. I write people and relationships, about the beauty and horror of what we do to ourselves and each other. I write Love. Vengeance. Compassion. Cruelty. Trust. Betrayal. Forgiveness. Darkness, and the incredible way humans destroy and heal each other.