Lexie (29 page)

His big hand covered one breast, and that cool heat poured through her. “Are you out there fighting for truth and justice, Luminescence, or does the danger just turn you on?”

“You won’t win,” she gasped.

“The hell I won’t.”

He squeezed her nipple hard, but then his touch was gone. It reappeared, lower and hotter. He cupped her pussy and ground the ball of his hand against her. Luna’s thighs quivered. With her legs spread wide, he could touch her however he liked, whenever he liked. Her hips pressed into the mattress as he slid his thumb between her soft, delicate folds. When he lifted it, it was wet.

“What is it that gets you going?” he asked, his voice going steely. “Danger, or me?”

She couldn’t respond. What he was doing was shocking, titillating, and she shouldn’t like it. Couldn’t like it. It went against everything she believed in, everything she’d put herself on the line for, but she couldn’t dispute the evidence.

He bent down over her, his gray eyes turning pewter.

“Danger?” He swirled his thumb deliberately around her clit. “Or me?”

Zero to kinky in 3…2…1…

Inside Bet

© 2012 Katie Porter

Vegas Top Guns, Book 2

As junior partner of an accounting firm, Heather Morris is at the top of her game. Her straight-laced colleagues wouldn’t believe the secrets she hides: her wild teenage past, work-of-art tattoo and nipple ring.

Her orderly life veers off course when she’s approached at a wine tasting by an arrogant pretty boy with a dirty mind and a hardcore dangerous profession. She finds herself tempted to step outside her respectable façade for some well-deserved excitement.

Captain Jon “Tin Tin” Carlisle knows women.
Loves
women. One glimpse of the nipple ring under Heather’s conservative blazer lights up all his instincts. He’s stumbled upon a rare treasure: an exotic beauty with a sexy laugh and a taste for dares.

After a red-hot hour of roulette, their simmering attraction bursts into an exploration of mutual passion that tests even Jon’s erotic limits. Soon he craves something he’s never desired before.
More
. But for Heather,
more
means trusting, and trusting leads to trouble.

Now Jon must decide if the best sex of his life is worth chancing his heart on a woman who shields hers so well.

Warning: Contains hot power play featuring a fighter pilot who comes from old money but knows all about bringing the dirty. Also: a nipple ring, sex on the hood of a hella sweet sportscar, and one teensy, tiny, wickedly naughty fluid exchange.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Inside Bet:

“You’re rather self-assured.” Heather faced forward again, but nothing in her posture suggested that he should remove his hand. She dropped the hem over her top so that lace simply draped over his wrist. Brave girl. He rewarded her with a teasing, kneading motion along the dip of her waist.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” he asked against her throat.

“Has anyone ever told you it verges on arrogant?”

“Once or twice. Or more.”

“You don’t care?”

He didn’t really like talking to her without seeing her eyes. Considering her measured, careful voice, she was more difficult to read without precise physical clues.

“Arrogant is what frightened people call bold.” He didn’t need to bend far to speak directly into her ear. In her heels, she was nearly his height. Good thing his ego had never been fragile. Actually, he rather liked the advantages. It made a whole host of sexual positions easier to contemplate. “When am I going to see your panties?”

“Lay another bet, flyboy.”

The croupier had gathered all the chips, paid out the few winners and opened the table for more bets.

“What’s your birthday?”

That earned him a sidelong glance over her shoulder. “The seventh of August.”

“Not long off.”

She laced her fingers over his, across her stomach, with the layer of silk in between. “Plan on buying me a present?”

He leaned their bodies forward to drop another $100 chip on the black square marked seven. Her ass tucked neatly against his cock. Just as he’d thought. They would fit well together.

“What do you want?”

“Everything I’m worth,” she said. “So maybe the sun and the moon?”

“I’ll throw the stars in too.”

“You think you’re pretty slick.” No question there. Just bemused humor. “But I’m still waiting on our side bet.”

“How slick
you
are. That’s my reward if I win.”

“What?”

A fine trembling had taken over her limbs. He was perversely proud that she didn’t back down, despite obvious jitters.

“If I win with a black seven, I get to find out how wet your panties are.”

“Here?” Her swallow was an audible click. “How?”

He slid his pinkie under the band of her skirt. Not far enough to brush the top hem of her underwear, but enough to make her think of them. “I’ll leave that up to you.”

Suddenly she laughed. The tension drawing her shoulders tight against his chest dissolved. “You know what? Fine. At 37-to-1 odds, the chances I’ll have to pay out are slim.”

He hid a real smile against her nape. So many to tuck away that evening. “But there’s still a chance.”

“You like chances?”

He darted out his tongue and claimed a taste of her skin. Soft peaches and rich cream. “I live for them.”

The uniformed croupier declared the table closed and propelled the roulette wheel with a flick of her wrist. The white ball bounced twice before settling into a smooth counter-roll against the wheel’s movement.

Heather’s breathing went shallow and fast. He spread his hand over her stomach, the better to feel the fast rise and fall of her diaphragm. She’d breathe like that on her way to orgasm.

Enjoying the lustrous feel of her skin against his lips, Jon didn’t lift his face. He didn’t need to. Her lush body’s sudden jolt told him the exact result.

The ball had landed in the number seven pocket.

“Are you going to pay up, Ms. Morris?”

“I’d never welsh on a bet.”

“Like I said, the method is up to you.” He brushed a lock of dark brown hair away from her ear. Although he didn’t want to give her an out, neither did he want to hear the word
panda
yet. If pushed too far too fast, she would back off entirely. “You can whisper the answer, if you’d rather.”

She turned slowly. The crowds around the table meant they stayed pressed together. No way she could’ve missed the brush of his stiffening prick across her hip. Maybe now she wouldn’t doubt its size.

Pale blue eyes evaluated him, as if he were an impossible equation. Good. He enjoyed being that tough to read.

She patted his shirt along the line of his vest. Lovely hands. Her long fingers were tipped with a fresh French manicure. He imagined how they’d look when clawing linen sheets as he edged her nearer and nearer to coming. How long could he sustain her there without letting her go over?

“Stay right here,” she said, her voice huskier than ever.

“Going somewhere?”

“Yes.”

“Are you going to be back?” He didn’t like that question after hearing it said aloud. Too…undisciplined.

“You’ll just have to wait and find out.”

She disappeared into the crowd. Jon watched her as far as he could. She didn’t wiggle as she walked—more like she slinked along. Her hips telegraphed every sensuous intention. Unfortunately, a stream of Japanese tourists following a tour guide’s up-held umbrella closed off his view.

He turned back to the table. While accepting his winnings and handing the croupier a nice tip, he tried to regulate a flush of pure excitement. He had an inkling of what she was up to. If Heather managed, he’d be very proud of her—and more intrigued than ever. She was the kind of woman who tasted risk carefully. The tip of her tongue at first. Not a deep swallow. That made every tiny step all the more valuable.

He gambled too much while she was gone, dropping four hundred dollars on a single spin. Seven again, since it had already brought him such luck. His parents would be appalled if they could see him, so it was a good thing he didn’t answer to them anymore. Grandfather’s trust fund remained excessively handy for pissing them off and for killing time.

When she returned, she slid under his arm as if she weren’t tormenting him with every movement. As if she belonged there. Her fingers ducked into his trouser pocket and out again in a wickedly fast move.

She carefully faced the roulette table as she spoke. “I think you’ll be happy.”

Slipping his hand into his pocket, Jon found lace and silk. If he weren’t careful, he’d come to associate the combo with her. The tiny scrap of panties was unmistakably wet. Not drenched—not yet—but now she was bare under her tailored skirt. Any stray breeze could curl beneath the hem to stroke her skin. He wondered if she waxed or kept a delicate thatch of curls.

“Good girl,” he purred.

That earned another backward glance. Black irises swelled to deep pools. “Time for another bet.”

He pulled her flush to his hips. “What age did you lose your virginity?”

Hot, bright red flushed her high cheekbones. “Fourteen.”

Ignoring a jolt of excitement, he placed a single chip onto the number. “So young. Was it worth it?”

Her laugh this time was awkward. Rough at the edges. “It depends what you mean. Did I get the validation I was looking for? Sure.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He wrapped his arm all the way across her belly so that he clutched her opposite hip. Her curves fit the body he’d forged through years of discipline. “I wanted to know if you came.”

She shuddered then shook her head. “No.”

“That is a damn pity.”

“Can’t expect that much when you’re so young and stupid.”

“Ready for our next wager?”

She let her head bend back to rest on his shoulder. “Lay it on me, flyboy.”

“If I hit, I want to see you make yourself come.”

“An inside bet?”

“Yup.”

“Again, the odds are on my side.”

“And look where that logic got you last time.” He chuckled against her loosely bound hair, catching the light scent of roses. “The house edge is just over five percent. Five point two six, actually. You should know, I lost two rounds while you were gone. Don’t play it based on numbers. Agree because you want me to know exactly what makes you break apart—the way you touch yourself when you’re all alone.”

She slicked her tongue across her lips. “You think I want you to know that?”

“Maybe. Maybe you don’t. But you do want to be wicked.”

To win her heart, he’ll have to touch off her internal combustion.

Overdrive

© 2012 Chloe Cole

Even after ten long years, Frankie Sepkaski’s success as the best vintage car mechanic around still hasn’t overcome her teenage rep as a promiscuous troublemaker. No matter how tempting the prospect, the last thing Mac Galbraith needs is for her to take him out for a spin. Especially since his family thinks he should be looking for a prospective wife among the local socialites, not slumming with a grease monkey.

Mac likes vintage rides, but buying a new one every month just to have an excuse to see his ridiculously sexy mechanic in her overalls? That’s pathetic. When she finally says yes to his date offer, he’s not fooled. It’s only because she has every intention of using him to indulge her fantasies—then walking away. But Mac knows something else: underneath her bad-girl persona is a woman worth her weight in lug nuts.

It might take a crowbar to get her to admit she has feelings for him, but he plans to put the pedal to the metal to convince her to keep him around for more than just a test drive.

Warning: Sweaty, down-and-dirty sex between a mechanic and her best client. Read at your own risk. Dangerous curves lie ahead, and these roads are slippery when wet.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Overdrive:

The line went quiet again, save for their echoing breaths. She should probably hang up.

“I don’t want to hang up yet,” Mac said, the reluctant honesty in his tone encouraging her to be honest in return.

“Me either.”

“What do you want, Frankie?”

What did she want?

She shoved aside all the doubts and self-recriminations and spoke the truth. “To listen to you talk. Your voice is so…”

“So…?” he urged.

Her heart pounded, and she closed her eyes. “Sexy. Your voice is so goddamn sexy.”

“I’m glad that you think so. And what would you like me to talk about?”

She squirmed, a familiar pressure spreading low in her belly. How to answer that loaded question? Mac had offered her the chance to explore a world she’d denied herself for so long. If she was going to do it, she was going to do it right.