Color My Heart: A Red Hot Summer story. (7 page)

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Color My Heart

When he didn’t say a word for a while, her mind raced with thoughts. Maybe it was badly coordinated. The colors overlapped too much. The layers were too thick and it was too bright and puzzling. Maybe it was better off in the trash!

“I want you to do that to me,” he whispered, and cocked his head toward her, his lashes rising to reveal those mesmerizing brown eyes.

Hannah was sure she’d misunderstood him. “That?”

She let go of her breath and came to stand next to him to stare at the canvas and make certain they were discussing the same work. She gasped when she saw it with fresh eyes, not even believing she’d allowed him to see it. “That? But that’s a mess!”

He took her shoulders in his hands and subjected them to a gentle pressure as he turned her to face him, his knowing gaze grabbing hold of hers. “I love your mess, Hannah, and everything else about you.”

With that he knocked the breath out of her completely. She swayed against him.

“Billy…”

His gaze glimmered on her, full of tenderness as it danced across her face, touching her lips, her nose, finally settling on her eyes. “I want you to paint your colors all over me, anywhere you want, anytime you want.”

“Oh. Billy.”

It was all she could say as his thumb pressed her lips, sealing the top and bottom one to keep her from saying anything else. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ll wait as long as I have to. And when you’re ready…you can just paint something to let me know. Right here.” With his free hand, he tapped his bare chest with his knuckles. “Right over here.”

Hannah stared at that beautiful hand as it flattened over his chest, knowing exactly what lay there, alive and beating under his bronzed skin and rigid muscles. “You want me to use real paint, right there?”

A heart-stopping grin teased the corners of his lips. “Yeah, I thought color would be nice.”

Her smile barely fit in her face and her heart pirouetted inside her. “Close your eyes, Billy.”

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Red Garnier

Hannah picked up a brush as his lids fell closed. She unscrewed the orange paint tube and surveyed his beautiful features while she swiped the feathery tip across the top.

All through the summer she’d cheated herself out of dozens of nights she could have stayed over and slept with Billy, and oh, how she wished she could remedy that tonight.

Her hand trembled slightly as she rested the heel of her palm on his chest and curled her wrist for each paint stroke, using her detail brush with the thinnest tip and inwardly thanking God oils took days to dry, so she could wash the paint away from him later.

“Ready,” she said once finished.

His eyes popped open and he glanced downward, taking a moment to read the words, which to his eyes were upside down.

Love you
.

A thousand expressions crossed his face as he looked up again, then as if dazed, he shook his head, tousling his bedroom hair even more. “I have to say, Hannah, I like your choice of color,” he said, in a voice uncommonly low and raw.

She stared up at him without a hair on her whole body moving, completely perplexed. Did her confession do nothing to him at all? Had she misread him? Had she again done what she’d avoided this whole time? Stupid, stupid, stupid—

“Come here, you.”

A powerful arm secured her against him and she gasped at the abruptness of his move. Her hands flattened on his chest, the heel of one palm getting smudged with paint as she stared up at him in confusion.

His eyes felt endless as he searched her gaze. “I have to say I like your choice of words even better.”

Hannah’s heart all of a sudden grew wings. She felt herself smile, her feet gone weightless. “Oh?”

“Yep.” Ever so slowly, he kissed her forehead, the tip of her nose, her lips. “I love the color, the words…and I love the artist. I want no one else coloring me but you.”

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Color My Heart

She yelped in surprise when he lifted her into his arms and kissed her on the mouth.

“Come on, Picasso, I’m itching to put
my
signature on you. I’ll have no more Lances touching my girl.”

Hannah laughed and suddenly realized what maybe deep down, she’d known from the start. “You know, Billy, as Margie once told me. Why would I want anyone else when there’s you?”

“Margie said that?”

“Yep.”

“I ought to have married the woman.”

“Billy!” Hannah slapped his arm.

He smiled and made his way to her bedroom and kissed her, a kiss as passionate as it was tender, his tongue tasting her. “No more kidding,” he whispered, setting her down on the bed. “I need to have you.”

As his hands worked to untie her robe, she cupped his jaw, his day’s growth of beard raspy against her palms. And with her heart in her eyes, as bright and fiery as any of her paintings, she whispered, “No one. There’s no one like you, Billy.”

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About the Author

Red Garnier writes fun and sexy erotic contemporaries as well as paranormals, which can range from dark and emotionally intense to fun and sweet as cherries. To learn more about Red Garnier, please visit
http://www.redgarnier.com
. Send an email to Red at

[email protected]
or visit her at her blog at http://redgarnier.com/blog/.

In this heat wave, anything and everything goes.

Heat of the Moment

© 2008 Elle Kennedy

A
Red-Hot Summer
story.

Shelby Harper has lusted over Navy SEAL John Garrett for over a year, but no matter how many sexy signals she sends out, the man shows a complete lack of interest in getting naked. Then she overhears Garrett talking to his SEAL teammate—a discussion in which they conclude she’s vanilla. Stung, Shelby sets out to show them exactly how un-vanilla she is.

Garrett can’t believe it when sweet, sexy Shelby suggests a wild and sweaty ménage.

He’s been trying to figure out how to ask her out without coming off as a guy who only wants to get in her pants—her friendship is too valuable to him to risk it. But if a crazy, heat-wave three-way is what Shelby wants, then he’s ready and willing to give it to her.

Once she gets it out of her system, however…well, then he’ll let her know he wants her all to himself.

Warning: This title contains two dangerously hot Navy
SEALS
and a heroine
determined to get it on with both of them. Be prepared to take a cold shower (or maybe
two) after reading this heat-wave ménage.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Heat of the Moment: Carson’s soft whistle broke through the silence. “Jesus, Shelby,” he hissed out.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.”

Heat spilled over her cheeks. Both men were completely dressed, and there she was, standing in front of them without a stitch of clothing so they could openly admire her.

And under their scrutiny, her nipples tightened, her breasts grew heavy and a rush of moisture pooled between her legs. Maybe it made her the slut of the century, but she couldn’t wait to get started.

Evidently Garrett felt the same urgency, because before she could blink he had stepped toward her and was pulling her naked body to his clothed one. She stared at his mouth, knowing her excitement was written all over her face. “Kiss me,” she whispered.

He quickly complied, pressing his lips to hers. His mouth was hot, firm, insistent. Oh yes. Carson had kissed her like he had all the time in the world, his mouth lazy, but Garrett was more intense. His kisses were rough and hungry and passionate, as if he wanted to devour her. Well, she wanted to devour him too. So she did, sucking hard on his tongue and shamelessly rubbing against his lower body.

Breathing hard, she tugged on the hem of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head.

Underneath the shirt, his chest was all muscle, a wide expanse of hard ripples and smooth golden skin, with a dusting of light brown hair leading to the waistband of his cargo pants.

Her mouth went dry, her hand unsteady as she reached out and touched that incredible chest. She brushed her finger over one of his flat, brown nipples, eliciting a ragged sigh from his throat.

She was trying to decide if she was bold enough to lower her head and suck on his nipple when she felt a warm pair of hands stroking her bare back. She nearly jumped, then realized it was Carson, obviously eager to join in the fun.

Oh God, this was surreal. Her naked body sandwiched between these two big men, Carson’s hands squeezing her ass, Garrett dipping his head and kissing her again. Shivers of arousal danced up and down her spine, and a resulting moan slid out of her mouth.

Garrett chuckled softly, then planted his hands on her waist and turned her around, pressing his groin into her ass as Carson filled her mouth with his tongue.

She could feel Garrett’s erection nestled between her ass cheeks, and when Carson pulled her closer and parted her knees with one hard thigh she could feel the ridge of his arousal too. She sighed, pushing her ass against Garrett and reaching down to rub Carson through his khakis.

“Take your pants off,” she murmured.

She was addressing both of them, but Carson was the only one to reply. He offered her a lopsided grin and muttered, “Do it for me.”

She found herself glancing over at Garrett, who simply glanced back, his dark eyes flickering with raw heat. “Don’t keep the man waiting,” he said with a faint smile.

Drawing in a slow breath, she tugged at Carson’s zipper. It lowered with a metallic hiss.

Shelby hesitated, unsure of what to do next. This was all so new to her, the entire experience seeming more like a figment of her dirty imagination than a real-time occurrence.

“Help me out here,” she said with a nervous laugh. “What comes next?”

Carson’s blue eyes twinkled. “I do.” He took her hand and guided it inside his pants.

She took another breath, gathering every ounce of naughty courage she possessed, and finally wrapped her fingers over his cock and started stroking him.

He groaned, and she saw him fumble with his waistband, attempting to push his pants down. “Help me out here,” he mimicked, his features taut with unrestrained lust.

Sinking to her knees, she pulled down his khakis and boxers, wondering if the blood drumming in her ears was a result of the tequila she’d drunk downstairs or the hard cock that sprang up against her face. God, he was big.

She circled his tip with her index finger and he shuddered. “Shit, that’s nice,” he said hoarsely.

She shifted her head and saw that Garrett was now leaning against the arm of her old patterned sofa. He was still clothed, still watching her with those sexy dark eyes.

She squeezed Carson’s shaft, then met Garrett’s gaze at the same time she took his friend’s cock into her mouth.

Summertime…and the living is steamy in Hotlanta.

Lady Sings the Blues

© 2008 Mallery Malone

A
Red-Hot Summer
story.

Alina Gabriel has hit on the perfect formula to make her club, The Scarlet Lady, the hot spot in Atlanta’s night life. Men flock to see her alter ego, retired exotic dancer Miss Scarlet; and women line up to see Joshua Hanover and his blues band steam up the stage.

Alina herself isn’t immune to the blind guitarist’s sensual songs and musical dexterity, but she refuses to be just another notch in his groupie belt.

That is, until Joshua debuts a new song, “Red-Letter Woman”, to entice Miss Scarlet to dance. The song and dance leave them both hot and bothered, and when Alina retreats to her office for personal relief, Joshua joins her and offers to strum her desire.

But Joshua wants more than a one-night stand. He’s pushing for an encore, and Alina wonders if it’s her he’s after—or her exotic persona.

Warning: This title contains sensuous solos, decadent duets, dirty dancing, and a
man who’s really good with his hands.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Lady Sings the Blues: Damn. He had to issue a challenge. She never backed down. Ever. It was her stubbornness as much as her business aptitude that made The Scarlet Lady a success. And her love life a mess.

The only other thing she couldn’t seem to resist besides a challenge was Joshua’s voice and the mesmerizing play of his fingers.

As if reading her thoughts, he stretched out a hand to her and gave her a smile as smooth as jazz. “Come here,” he repeated. Only this time, his voice was soft, full of promise and seduction and sin. Just as it was when he sang.

She slid both feet to the floor and stood. Keeping her eyes on his face, she moved around the corner of her desk until she stood in front of him.

“Sit on the edge of your desk,” he ordered.

She raised her eyebrow at the tone, not that he noticed, then sat. “Well?”

He shifted his chair forward, pushing her thighs apart. “Put your feet here,” he requested, patting the sloped armrests of his chair.

Alina complied, mesmerized by that voice, the promise of his fingers. The balls of her feet balanced on the edge of each armrest as her thighs fell open for him. She briefly wondered how long she could keep her balance like that, then decided she’d hold the position for as long as it took.

Pure challenge filled his grin. “Why don’t you lean back? You’ll still be able to see what you need to see.”

She snorted in response and was rewarded with a low chuckle. “I promise, I won’t let you miss any of the show.”

She didn’t know what she expected him to do next. Certainly not make her wait. She watched his hand, strong, long-fingered, sweep over her boot. From the pointed tip to the stiletto heel, back up over the laces to her knee.

“I’ve become very tactile,” he told her as his hands skimmed up her knees. “This is the way I see.”

She had to swallow before she could speak. “All right, you’re free to look all you want.”