Two in the Afternoon (9 page)

She sucked in a harsh breath, delight warring with her natural instinct to pull away. He was staying, and she'd been fighting her desire for more since the moment she'd laid eyes on Cal. It was past time she owned up to how she really felt. “I'm crazy about you too.”

He chuckled at her. “Excellent. Now, where should we go on our first official date?”

Molly laughed, relieved that he understood she just wasn't ready for the big “I love you” moment. She curled closer to her man, ready to plan their future together.

About the Author

Nestled away in a small town in Ohio, Cora Cade spends her days adding steamy books to her library, snuggling with her four rotten dogs, and debating the finer points of life with the dear husband.

When she's not tucked away with a book you can find her tapping away on her laptop. With coffee. And music.

You can find Cora online at
www.coracade.com
or chat with her on Facebook at
www.facebook.com/CoraCade
.

Look for these titles by Cora Cade

Now Available:

A Day of Pleasure

Morning Light

His toughest battle is ahead—the battle for one woman's heart.

Morning Light

© 2013 Cora Cade

A Day of Pleasure, Book 1

During Noah Harper's ten years as an Army Ranger, Tennyson Sharpe's letters were his lifeline. With each mail call, the bright and vibrant girl of his youth slowly became the woman of his dreams.

Now he's home—and he's in hell. The problem? Tenn is his little brother's best friend. Claiming her risks all kinds of collateral damage.

Tenn is getting nervous. Since Noah came home, they've been circling each other, neither willing to risk the status quo. It's time to kick things up a notch and make a play for the man she's loved since she was sixteen—before someone else does.

Dressing to impress works better than she could have dreamed. After a scorching interlude leads to a steamy morning wrapped in each other's arms, reality comes crashing down. Shining a devastating light on Tenn's deepest fears…and forcing Noah into scramble mode to convince her forever was always on his mind.

Warning: This book contains some serious foreplay in the great outdoors; stand-up sex with a hot, stand-up guy; and a wounded Army Ranger who's determined to leave no heart behind—especially the one belonging to the girl of his dreams.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Morning Light:

Noah took the seat beside her and all but loomed over her smaller frame. He was so large and imposing. And dead sexy. How did a man who had slept on her couch still look so good? It was a crime against nature. She sat beside him, looking like something a cat had dragged in.

He'd obviously slept without his shirt, because his chest was exposed and she couldn't take her eyes off him. She let her gaze slide down the length of his impressive frame, only to snag on a batch of scars scattered down his right side. The aftermath of an IED that had taken out his transport during his first tour of duty. Even though he'd explained about the attack and his recovery, it was altogether a separate thing to see the scars in person. She wanted to reach out and caress them and heal them with her touch.

Until she noticed his pants were unsnapped and hung low on his narrow hips. A glimpse of his black boxer-briefs drew her gaze even lower. She watched his erection visibly grow under her scrutiny until the tip of his cock pushed against his flat abdomen, escaping the confines of the soft cotton encasing him. It was the most erotic sight she'd ever seen.

He shifted his weight and she could smell his cologne again. It was intrinsically
him
,
a soft woodsy scent with a hint of the man underneath. If she had been wearing any panties they'd be wet right now. She licked her lips, drawing his gaze to her mouth.

Instead, she sat beside him in her ragged—and damp—boxers and a plain tank. Which reminded her she wasn't wearing a bra. Or panties. She was practically naked, next to the hottest man in her world. She was going to combust shortly.

Shifting her weight, she put a little distance between the two of them. She felt conspicuously naked now and fully aware of how mussed she looked. Of course, now she was flushed again. It couldn't be helped.

He placed a hand on the back of the bench and closed the limited distance she'd put between them. Glancing up at him she suddenly felt like a small animal being stalked by larger game. The gleam in his ocean-blue eyes was startling as he gently removed the sunglasses perched on her nose.

When he touched a hand to her upper thigh and slowly skimmed his fingers up her limb, she sucked in a deep breath. It was like there was a fire burning under his touch, spreading through her system like an inferno, raging out of control.

He was going to kiss her and she hadn't even bothered to brush her teeth yet. She probably reeked of alcohol and that dead, furry thing in her mouth. If it had been possible she would have blushed deeper, but she was already going up in flames.

He brought his mouth dangerously close to her lips. For a heartbeat she almost let him close the final distance. With a jerk, she covered her mouth and mumbled, “I need to brush my teeth.”

Noah laughed and her mortification was complete. Instead of pulling away as she expected, he leaned closer and nuzzled the sweet spot behind her ear. He placed a warm, deliberate open-mouthed kiss to the spot and bit her lobe with a gentle, teasing laugh.

Without thought, Tenn leaned into his frame and let her hands roam across the wide expanse of his broad chest. His hand skimmed from her thigh to her hip and his grip tightened there, holding her in place as he trailed kisses down her neck to the strap of her tank top. He brushed it aside with his mouth as his free hand softly caressed her breast through the thin cotton.

She was going to come from his feather light touch to her nipple. Her entire body flamed as he relentlessly caressed all her curves. Palming the weight of her breast in his massive hand, every part of her pulled taut.

She was so consumed by burning desire, she barely noticed as he easily lifted her full weight to his lap, placing her core-to-core with him. His erection nudged her cleft and she couldn't stop from rocking against the length of him, letting her eager body find the spot where his hardness met her softness.

The one way they don't rub each other wrong is in each other's arms.

Fiery

© 2014 Nikki Duncan

Whispering Cove, Book 11

Carmen Smith's artist's eye saw inspiration wherever she glanced as soon as she set foot on the cobbled streets of Whispering Cove, and among the inspiration she's found the slower pace she always hoped for.

But as warm as her new life is, she harbors a secret dream to find a man who sees her as an equal and who loves her for who she is, rather than out of charity. The man she's been partnered with to re-design the town square gets her fired up—but not in a way she expected.

Ryan Alden gave up his military career to help his father with the family business. He's accepted his place in Whispering Cove, but still feels like an outsider at times. When he meets the bombshell babe with a vintage flare who challenges him like no other, he glimpses the life he has always longed for—but not in a way he anticipated.

From the get-go, they clash like oil and watercolor. And a relationship that looked good on paper might not be the right composition at all…

Warning: This title contains an order-barking Gunny, a woman who won't be told what to do, and a whole new meaning for “home is where the heart is”.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Fiery:

Like he'd conjured her, Carmen slipped through the last open section of the wall that would close the gazebo off for the month. With a smile and fingertip wave to his crew, she strolled across the grass. She wore straight-legged jeans rolled at the ankle and a blue-and-white-checkered top that was tied at her waist to show off a hint of skin below her belly button. The buttons were undone to the top swell of her breasts so each step enhanced them with a slight bounce. A wide, red hair band secured her hair back, keeping the bangs off her forehead.

Ryan's body hardened, trembled, with a combination of rage and arousal.

When she lifted a paper coffee cup to her red-glossed lips, arousal knocked rage back a step. When she walked past him and sat on a bench in the gazebo, rage kicked arousal's ass.

“Carmen,” he said, pitching his voice over the mulcher.

She nodded pleasantly.

“You can't do landscaping work dressed like that.”

“It's not a dress like I normally wear.” She glanced down at her clothes, studied her tennis shoes and blinked up at him. “Besides, you're the landscaper, Gunny. I'm the designer.”

Being called Gunny had never pissed him off before. He'd worked damn hard to earn the rank before leaving the Corps. Yet, the way she said it, as if she thought for half a second she was better than him, managed to detonate his anger.

Ryan flipped the switch to turn off the mulcher. Doing an about-face on the ball of his right foot, he moved in her direction. Each step was a heel-toe strike that vibrated through his shins and up his thighs. As he neared, she lifted her head and took another drink.

Inciting him further, she smiled at his crew as they secured the last of the temporary wall. They needed to keep their eyes on their work if they wanted to keep their jobs. “You've gotten a lot of work done already.”

“We could have more done if you'd reported on time.”

She pointed to herself. “Artist.” She pointed at him. “Landscaper.”

She smiled with that pretty mouth of hers and all he wanted to do was wipe the cheer away. He just wasn't sure if he'd do the wiping with his hand or his lips.

He was still trying to decide when she set her coffee on the bench. Then she stood and stepped up on the bench. The extra foot and a half put her closer to his height, and she gestured for him to come nearer.

“Guys,” he called to his crew without looking at them. “Would you excuse us, please?”

The men headed through the gate they'd erected and pushed it closed, giving him and Carmen complete privacy. Not one to back down from a challenge, Ryan took the three steps necessary to stand in front of her.

“Let's get something straight, Gunny.” She curled her fingers into the collar of his shirt, leaned in close and spoke in that irritatingly haughty tone of hers. “You're no longer in the Corps. I am not an enlisted grunt below your rank. The orders and militant expectations end. Now. Do we understand one another?”

Damn, but he wanted to throttle her
and
kiss her. Every spark that had been detonated at her touch yesterday fired in her eyes as they locked with his. His skin heated more than it had from the morning's labor. His decision was made for him.

The woman had taunted him from a distance, awakened him with a touch and then haunted his dreams. He'd awoken hard and on edge, looking forward to seeing her. Then when she finally bothered to appear it was in a shroud of arrogance.

“Do you want to know what I understand, Woman?”

“I told you not to call me that.”

Ryan took another step. His toes bumped the bench. “You're pissed that I didn't ask nice enough.”

She leaned marginally closer, pinning her hand between them. “You didn't ask at all.”

“I'm not a soft man. I don't have the patience for female games like the other men in this town.”

“I am
not
playing games.”

“You're just trying to prove you won't be bossed around by me. That doesn't make us equals.”

She leaned into his face, unblinking, and shook her head. “I am no man's subordinate. If you want my help, you'll take it on equal footing.”

He grinned. “Says the woman standing on a bench so she can have a chance of looking me in the eye.”

“But I have your attention, don't I?”

“Oh yeah. I wonder if you captured it the way you'd hoped.” Proving the point, he placed a hand at the back of her neck and pulled her close. Her smile was gone, but he was still going to taste her sassy mouth.

Placing his lips on hers, Ryan kissed her. He didn't devour her, though his libido urged him to. He didn't kiss her tentatively, though she resembled an antique doll. Firm, but not demanding, he moved his lips, brushed the tip of his tongue over her bottom lip.

She opened for him, but he didn't take the plunge. The hint of spice intrigued him. He slid his tongue over her lip again, easing the slightest bit into her mouth. Spicy and sweet. Not coffee. Chai with a sprinkle of cayenne.

Carmen moaned, tightened her hold on his collar. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against him. Holding her, he lifted her from the bench and turned to sit. He settled her on his lap and while every impulse told him to go for the bases, he settled for sliding his hand from her waist to her hip. His fingers sought purchase in her curves.

“Ryan,” she whispered against his lips.

“Hmm?” He moved to her neck, memorizing the softness of her flesh.

“We shouldn't be doing this.”

“Life's too short for shouldn'ts.”

She released the hold she had on his collar and moved her hands to his neck. Her fingers slipped into his hair. Longer than it had been in sixteen years, she found enough to grip. The light tug ramped his desire up a notch.

He nipped at her neck, pulling for only a second at her skin. She arched against him. Her breasts, shown to perfection by the low buttons on the top and the red bra peaking along the edge, swelled.

She settled her mouth at his ear and swiped her tongue across his lobe. His heart slammed against his ribs. His blood thrummed.

He could happily take her to the wood floor of the gazebo and drive deep. Instead, he trailed his mouth along her neck. Pulling her shirt and bra strap back as far as her shirt would allow, he kissed her collar bone. His free hand slid along her stomach, reached for the knot of her shirt.

A single tug was all he needed to have the knot falling free. With that gone, the shirt slipped farther up and down her shoulder. He'd never needed a woman like he found himself needing Carmen, and that made her a danger he couldn't indulge.

Struggling to breathe evenly, he eased back.

She followed his retreat for half a second before shaking her head and moving off his lap. She turned away while she righted her clothes. “You shouldn't have done that.”

“Probably not,” he agreed. Though he already wanted to do it again.

“Don't think you won just because I let you kiss me.”

“You kissed me back, Woman.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“And you call me bossy.”

She lifted a shoulder in a jerky shrug. He still felt the satin of that shoulder on his tongue. She didn't want him to think she was submissive. Her eagerness to argue would make the next few weeks of working together a misery, yet a part of him liked that she wanted to fight.

Not ready for the next round quite yet, he went to her. Resting a gentle hand on her shoulder he turned her. “Why don't you call it quits for today?”

“I haven't done anything.”

She'd done more than enough, though. “I can finish ripping out the bushes.” The exertion of some energy might help his arousal subside, though he doubted it would last long. “If you're free later we could get together to discuss the plans.”

“What's wrong with what I drew?”

“Too many of the plants aren't native to Maine and some of the rock ideas won't work. Too many little ones needed that would never stay put.”

“The plants aren't native?”

“I don't work with non-natives.”

She huffed. “I get it. You're a purist snob.”

“No. I just don't like the way they take over the area, driving out everything that belongs here.”

“Is that so?” She shook her head and stomped toward the gazebo steps. She spun at the edge and glared at him. “Just so you know, sometimes the non-natives are what add color to a place. You natives need to learn to adapt.”