I Want – an excerpt

I Want

#fantasy #erotic romance #bisexual #menage

I Want_smAntoinette Travis knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to do exactly what was necessary to make it to the top. Outside of sleeping her way there. And she was certain her rival got the promotion that should have been hers by doing exactly that. Angry at losing the job that would have given her what she wanted, she stalks out of the office and heads for the closest bar, where a deliciously mesmerizing, exotic bartender asks her the one question to which she thinks she knows the answer.

Swept away to a tropical island, sans clothes and stripped of all civilized veneer, she’s offered the opportunity to redefine not only what she wants, but what she truly needs.

 

EXCERPT

Antoinette paced the length of her office like a caged tigress, the interoffice memo crumpled into a small ball cutting into the flesh of her locked fist. She had been passed over yet again for the promotion. Endless nights of work on this last project should have garnered her the recognition she rightly deserved. Dedicating herself to its success, working night and day to see it through to completion before the deadline had all been for nothing. That bitch, Camille, had made the cut and not her.

She’d wanted that promotion—deserved it.

“Antoinette, staff meeting in twenty minutes.”

She whipped around to confront the quivering woman hovering in the open doorway, pinning her in her sights like a doe with no hope of escape. Maggie had been her assistant for the last six months and now stood there wringing her hands together, a worried frown on her face.

Pitiful. How did the woman manage to survive this long in the piranha-infested waters of the business world without being eaten alive?

 Antoinette didn’t have much luck keeping assistants for any length of time—Maggie had lasted the longest.

“I’ll be there shortly,” she bit out, spearing her assistant with a hard, icy look that brooked no argument.

She saw Maggie gulp and watched with disdain as she quickly backed out of the office, closing the door softly behind her.

She spun away and continued her prowl of the confining perimeters of her office, arms folded tightly across her breasts, locking in her emotions. Like hell I’ll be at that meeting and fawn over that slut. Lunging around her desk, she yanked open the bottom drawer and reached down to snap up her hand-tooled leather purse, knowing she couldn’t stay in this office another second without blowing wide open. Patience had never been a part of her make up, and what little she did have could currently be counted among the dead.

A new grill had opened around the corner, and right now seemed the perfect opportunity to check out the bar.

The outer office floor was eerily silent as she strode across what felt like a football playing field length of open space to reach the bank of elevators on the other side. Their eyes latched onto her, trailing her as she left, making it feel like she was caught in the rifle crosshairs of a mob of hunters, all aimed at her, waiting for the right moment to drop her in her tracks.

Well, she wasn’t going to give them an opening, that was for sure. Sonofabitch, Camille had probably fucked her way into this promotion. Literally.

 Once inside the elevator, she spun around to face the front as the doors slid shut. She released the pent-up breath she’d been holding and her shoulders drooped with the burdensome weight of her failure—yet again. This was the second time she’d been passed over. What was it they’d said after the last time when she’d met with them, demanding to know why? She needed to learn to become more attuned to the other employees? She didn’t bond well with her co-workers, something she needed to work on. What the hell did that mean? She knew how to get the job done. Employees were supposed to follow orders, that’s what they were paid to do, weren’t they? A person shouldn’t have to worry about getting all caught up emotionally, and bonding with them. That was for sentimentalists—definitely not for her.

Reaching the main floor, she stumbled out of the elevator onto the marble reception area and hurried toward the revolving door that would allow her to make a quick escape. And good riddance. It was time to take stock and consider moving on. This company obviously wasn’t going to get her what she wanted. She’d thought it was the type of place that recognized the determination to succeed. But apparently she was wrong. They wanted serendipitous mush, not aggressive balls. When she saw opportunity she grabbed it and ran and it didn’t matter who got in the way. If they weren’t with her, they were the enemy and tromped over to get where she was going. Why is it no one could see what it really took to succeed in the shark-infested waters of success? It was one of the things that had been practically beaten into her and she’d never forgotten it. Eat or be eaten.

Control or be controlled.

Her professor back in college had taught her all about the fine art of negotiation. And she’d paid dearly for that lesson. That was a long time ago and a lot of water under the bridge. No one had ever tried to dominate her since then—she was going to be the one with the power and the money. And then they’d see what she was made of. And she didn’t plan to get there by way of anyone’s bed to do it. She’d been that route once. Never again.

The summer sun seared her skin, yet the midday heat could not rival the blazing, frustrated anger she planned to numb with a few shots of scotch. She slowed her gait as she came closer to her destination and turned as she reached the entrance of the latest renovation on Front Street, peering up at the swirling blue neon sign about the doorway. “DreamTime Bar and Grill.”

Right.

 She grabbed the thick vertical, gleaming brass handle, yanked the heavy oak door open and stepped inside, bracing herself against the cold shock of the air-conditioned interior. As the door quietly closed behind her, muffling the street noises, she stood for a moment as she allowed her eyes to adjust to the dimly lit interior. Except for the old nineteenth century gaslight-styled lighting fixtures flickering around the mahogany and brass bar, it was very dark, but the subdued lighting guided her path straight to the bar. She bypassed the hostess with a wave of her hand, and headed for an empty barstool. Climbing onto the red leather seat, she plunked her purse onto the counter and surveyed the array of bottles setting on the mirrored glass shelving behind the bar. Eyeing her poison, she then searched for the bartender, who she spotted standing at the other end of the room talking with the only other patron at this hour of the day.

Tapping her well-manicured nails impatiently against the satiny wood surface, she pointedly glared at him. Finally, he must have felt the laser of her stare and slowly turned his head. She almost choked on her own breath as she gulped surprise. It was like colliding with a fierce front of hot tropical wind as his gaze settled on her.

Antoinette wasn’t really into relationships or sex—had never found it that great an experience. But looking at the darkly bronzed, blatantly sexual male on the other side of the bar as his eyes blazed a trail through her sent an odd sense of steamy heat spiraling through her frigid bloodstream.

Quickly, she shifted her gaze and attempted to dispel the desire to shed her clothes right there and beg the delicious specimen reeking male testosterone to fuck her. Some undefined elemental electricity he exuded zapped right into her core, and she quickly came to the conclusion she didn’t like the feeling. Not at all. It was as though he pulled at her control mechanism, sought the combination that unlocked the safe she kept all emotion locked behind. And it was a scary thought that he might actually have the ability to discover the right sequence of numbers to pull that door wide open.

Frantically, she grabbed her purse. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

“What can I get you?” His voice was a blend of chocolate silk and chili peppers, making her body tingle and melt all at the same time. She was afraid to look up, to acknowledge him. What if he saw her response to him? Was she going crazy? Had she finally snapped after this last failure at work?

“Miss?”

Slowly, she lifted her gaze to encounter— Sonofabitch! She blinked rapidly. His eyes pinned her, appeared to pinpoint every secret trapped inside her. She could feel his clear Mediterranean sea-blue eyes penetrating into her, like a laser beam directed toward her soul. She couldn’t look away, mesmerized by their liquid, rippling depths. An ache began in the pit of her stomach, tentacles of sensual feeling moving outward, downward, stroking from the inside out. His eyes—how strange. The pupils looked silver—silver flames that flickered and beckoned, shining molten pools of seduction. She attempted to speak, but couldn’t find her voice. The pattern of her breaths increased until she was almost hyperventilating.

“What do you want, Antoinette?” How did he know her name? But the longer her gaze locked with his, the less she really cared how he knew. Some unheard command regulated her breathing to slower, long, deep sighs, almost as though he held some sort of hypnotic quality beneath the surface of his sensual tone.

The hard veneer of sophistication and control she always maintained eroded the longer she sat there. The sizzling hot-cold flames of his eyes clawed at the brittle surface, seeking a crack, a way to reach inside and pull out—

She blinked. Then blinked again, trying to dispel the haze of lust that seemed to consume her. She fought it, struggled to run from the foreign feeling of desire burning a hole inside her. Yet she couldn’t seem to move. Her lips felt dry and parched, her throat raw and scratched, as though some long-unquenched thirst harboring inside for longer than she could remember needed to be assuaged, and she circled her tongue along their dry, needy surface.

“I-I don’t know what I want,” she finally managed to stutter out. “Not anymore.”

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Excerpt from Fertility Rite

Fertility Rite

(#futuristic #fantasy #erotic #romance #MF)

Fertilite Rite_smA beautiful winged Vrotian female and a handsome Kansas farmer from Earth…a union doomed from the start or a love to last forever?

Lura, a Vrotian winged female, is about to commence the sacred Fertility Rite, or chance complete reversion to the primitive nature of the wild and predatory huntress. Vu, the God of Fertility, has finally revealed the identity of Lura’s mate and at last the Rite may begin.

 

EXCERPT

The silhouette of the tree stood tall and sturdy against the inky night sky. “It has been here a long time.”

He stopped next to its wide trunk, pointing the flashlight upward. “It’s seen a lot here. My father was going to chop it down at one point, but something made him change his mind. I was never sure what it was. It’s been here for as long as I can remember, and it never seems to change. In a lot of the real old pictures, it’s standing in the background. As though it’s waiting for something, sort of standing guard.”

He had his back to her and she removed first the silver girdle and then the length of silk. “It’s been waiting for this moment. Nathan, look at me.”

Slowly, he turned toward her. She saw his eyes widen. “Lura—”

She walked toward him. “Make love to me. Right now, beneath this tree.”

“Why here? What in the world made you decide we had to make love right this minute?”
She took the flashlight from his hand, flicked the switch, and dropped it to the ground. Turning back to him, she reached out and pulled the tails of his blue shirt out of his worn jeans and slid her hands beneath it. Yes, firm, thick muscles met her questing fingers. A strong heart beat rapidly beneath her touch. “Tonight there will be an eclipse of your moon. This moment has been foretold by the Priestess.”

Her quick fingers unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it from his shoulders, then she lowered her mouth to his chest, felt the heat emanating from him. With her tongue she circled the hardened nipples of his flat chest. She sucked a nipple into her mouth as she brought her hands down to the waistband of his pants.

“Love me,” she whispered against his skin as her hands unfastened his pants, slid the zipper down, then pushed them over his lean hips.

“Damn, Lura, you make it hard for a man to resist,” he rasped out. His hands rose to cup her breasts. A shaft of pleasure raced through her at his warm, sure touch.

“Yes, Nathan, touch me. Make me yours.” She slid the pants down his legs, and his cock sprang free, hard and thick, ready for her. “They taught me how to please you at the Temple.” She touched his cock with her hand, slid her fingers along its smooth length, swirled her fingers over the tip, and felt his anticipation seep out, covering her fingers.
Kneeling in front of him, she removed the last of his clothing, then took his thick shaft into her hands and looked up at him. “I have never been with a man. I am ready to take you into my body, but no man’s cock has ever entered me before this moment. I want you to know that you will be the first. And the only.”

She lowered her head and took his cock into her mouth, easing her tongue over the head, sucking him inside. Wrapping one hand around the firm base, she ran her other hand up and over his stomach and felt his abdomen muscles tighten. She slid her mouth up and down his length, drawing him deeper each time, easing the muscles of her throat to take as much of him as she could.

Her womb contracted with the need to be filled by him and she felt her own liquid pleasure release and coat her thighs. She had anticipated this moment, prepared for him, and wanted him more than she could have ever imagined.

He groaned and his hands cupped her face. “Enough, honey, come here and let me love you. I’m going to come right now if you don’t stop what you’re doing.” He thrust his hips as an exclamation to his words.

Lura lifted her head. “I want to taste you. I am not afraid to know you in this way. Give me your seed.” And she drew him once again into her mouth, tasted the salty passion of his pre-cum, and sucked harder, swirling her tongue beneath the ridge of the head, teasing at the slit in the tip.

She felt him tighten, felt the tension in his body coil like a spring, tighter and tighter. He yelled, his fingers twisted in her hair, and he orgasmed in long, pulsing bursts as she swallowed. It was her first real taste of a man’s passion and she was not displeased by its flavor. She savored this part of him, and licked him clean, felt him soften, felt the tension ease from his body.

But she did not stop, and instead licked and coaxed him back to rigid attention, cupping and kneading his muscled buttocks. It did not take long before his cock was again hard.
“Enough,” he said, as he pulled her to her feet. “I don’t know how you’re different from Earth women. What you want.” He took her lips and pressed between them with his tongue.

She drank from him, sucking him inside, pressing her body against him. Her wings extended, arching backward, swooping forward, then back yet again.

 

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Closing Time – an excerpt

Closing Time

(#MF, #contemporary #esmerelda)

ClosingTime_cover_smRisking public censure and the possible loss of her job as head librarian, Evelyn travels to Boston on weekends to add some excitement to her small-town life in Esmerelda. There, she meets Reuben, a rock musician, and discovers much more than she ever bargained for. And when it came to taking risks, she’s about to redefine the term “hot sex.”

From that first sizzling encounter behind the stage at the bistro, to the steamy confrontation in the back room of the Esmerelda library at closing time, Evie found she wanted a whole lot more than public respect from the small town where she grew up.

She wants to find love!

EXCERPT

Since that first night when she’d watched him perform on stage she’d been enthralled by him. There was an aura about him. And his eyes seemed to see right into her soul. She had been shocked when he came to her table after the first set. And even more shocked with herself when she had gone backstage with him and allowed him to make love to her right there behind the backdrop where anyone might have seen them.

She still couldn’t believe she’d done it. She had thought when it was over, that would be it. But it hadn’t been. He obviously hadn’t considered it a one-night stand and expected to see her again. She’d managed to remain at a distance, keeping their relationship strictly to weekend encounters. On some occasions she would stay over until Monday and drive back to Esmerelda very early in order to open the library right on time Monday morning.

If she were to admit it, the lifestyle was taking a toll on her. And she knew the time would come when it would all come crashing down around her feet. And where would that leave her? She felt so torn between her status here in Esmerelda, and the wanton woman who spent her time with Reuben. She refused to utter the word l-o-v-e in regard to her relationship with him. He was way out of her league. Just listening to him talk about his fast-paced life made her dizzy.

She assured herself that when he left on tour it would be over and done with. And she would stop her weekend trips to Boston. She should have done so before now. But Reuben was like a drug to her and she couldn’t stay away. She drank of him gluttonously when they were together, engorging herself on him in hopes she would finally have enough.

It was never enough, and she had a feeling it never would be. And that’s what scared her the most. When he left for good, she knew she was going to feel the loneliness more profoundly than she ever had before, because she now knew what it felt like to be with someone—to feel connected, even if it were only briefly.

His lips were like fire that heated her entire body, making her melt beneath his knowledgeable hands. His body touching her, possessing her was like a match striking flint and they would both go up in flames. There was nothing like the heart of his fire when it encompassed her. His fingers expertly played her just like he did with his guitar, pulling all the erotic music from inside her soul.

She became a wanton woman in his arms, a harem dancer, a Venetian courtesan, with her position as head librarian far removed from the woman in Reuben’s arms…in his bed. She wanted it to be real, to be lasting, but she knew it could only ever be fantasy. He was her fantasy lover, the one who drew her across the tightrope of passion into his world for a short, deliriously blissful time.

Yes, she remembered their first connection, their first passion. It had driven her all these weeks to return again and again and again, tempting the flames of discovery. It was her fourth trip to the bistro, but when she had walked in that night, she knew something was different. She hadn’t realized what it was until she made eye contact with the guitarist on the stage.

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Also a #kindle unlimited selection

 

Other books in the Esmerelda’s Lovers series:

Esmerelda’s Secret

Smooth Finish

Ruthless Acts

Hot Male – an excerpt

Hot Male

(#scifi #gay #erotic romance #MMM)

hotmale_smLeo is into a very hot male on the new .man network. Sirras is breaking every law known to Avvarian travvellers in hooking up with Leo online. And then mage-lord, Raddlack re-appears in Sirras’s life to further complicate things.

Sirras and Leo, two lonely men, aren’t looking for love when they connect online. Yet what happens when three hot males come together physically will blow all their worlds apart and fuse something brighter, hotter, and more lasting than any of them could have imagined—a relationship that changes everything. Interplanetary relations are taken to new dimensions with these sexy men.

EXCERPT

Tonight.

Leo stared at the message in the little box in the corner of the screen. He inhaled on a shuddering breath. It seemed like he’d been waiting for this moment forever and at last it was here. His fingers hovered over the keyboard. His gaze slid to the vibrant picture he kept on his desktop.

The indistinct neon burnt orange figure outlined in the photograph brought his desire surging to the surface. He stroked a hand over his crotch, feeling the stiff prick pressing against the fabric of his jeans. Was he really ready to meet Sirras and his new assistant in person?

Leo had been shocked a few weeks ago when Raddlack had joined his conversation with Sirras. But slowly, over the last few weeks, Leo had become familiar with the other man, as he had learned to know Sirras. The threesome they had engaged in online only made Leo want to experience the same level of passion in person. Did he dare take the chance?

What time? And where? he responded.

Leo knew he shouldn’t be doing it. Ever since the accident he’d stayed away from forming any type of physical relationship. But there was just something about Sirras, and now, Raddlack, that he couldn’t let go.

When the dot-men network first rolled out, Leo had been hesitant about surfing through the new gay men’s network. And then he’d found stardex.men. It was like finally coming home as he spoke with other men about his passion for the stars. There was even a whole digital library, including position papers on some of the newest discoveries in space exploration he’d never found anywhere else.

Uniquely unguarded conversations developed on stardex, communications that Leo had soon become addicted to, unable to stay away. And then he’d read Sirras’s paper on the discovery of a new solar system located just beyond their solar system. Leo had been so intrigued by the idea he couldn’t help emailing Sirras directly to try to learn more. And now there was Raddlack as well. A man who seemed to have an immense amount of information also. And knew how to fuck online as well as Sirras did. But now it was time to meet these men in the flesh.

Ten o’clock. The Warren Observatory.

Leo’s leg began to ache and he stretched it out. He’d been sitting too long at the computer again and the injury made him more than aware of the fact. He reached out for the cane resting next to the desk. His fingers fondled the smooth round knob at the top.

He stared at the fiery image on the screen unable to stop the fantasy that spun through his mind, curious about the men who hid behind the sexy avatars.

For months he had been chatting with Sirras, but he had delayed meeting him in person, afraid of what he would think when he saw Leo with the cane. Leo was still self-conscious about the disability. Conversing with Sirras over the last few months had helped him to forget the reason he no longer sought out relationships in the real world. Cybersex was about as good as it got for him anymore. And now there were two delicious men to play with.

We’ll be waiting for you, Leo. There will only be a short window of opportunity to actually view Avvaris.

The planet Avvaris was something he was dying to actually see. It was the one thing that could get Leo out of his apartment–the opportunity to actually view the new planet that Sirras had written about. It wasn’t something that was visible to the naked eye; only the high-powered telescope at the observatory would offer Leo a chance to actually see Avvaris. If he missed this opportunity, there wouldn’t be another chance for several years. He was going to have to take courage in hand and step outside his safety zone for the first time in six months.

You won’t disappoint us?

Leo’s fingers hesitated over the keyboard. This was not an easy decision for him. He really knew nothing about the men in this three-sided online relationship. They’d been tap dancing around each other for long enough. No real background exchanged, just talk. And sex. Cyber sex.

Talk to me, Leo. Leo opened the mic and turned up the volume.

“I’m here, Sirras.”

“I wanted to hear your voice. It’s the only way I can be certain you mean what you say.”

“I can’t wait to meet you in person, Leo.” This time it was Raddlack who spoke.

Leo stared at the glowing, orange avatar. Then his gaze turned to the blue-flamed avatar. The outlines of lean, male flesh kept him hot and ready at any given moment. He lowered his hand to cup his thick erection, stroking over the heat pushing against his jeans. He wondered if Sirras and Raddlack were anywhere near as flaming as the images the men projected online. Their deep, sexy voices certainly matched the images.

“What are you doing, Leo?” Raddlack asked

“What do you think I’m doing?” It hadn’t taken long for them to develop a deeper intimacy online. It seemed Sirras and Raddlack were just as curious about Leo.

“Does it feel good, Leo? Do you wish you were here right now? Raddlack and I are both waiting for you. We have a lot to show you.”

Leo couldn’t help it. He unzipped his fly and pulled out the rock-hard prick, stroking his fingers over the flared head.

“You’re going to see us in a couple of hours, Leo. We don’t want you to come yet.”

“Your voice does that to me, Sirras. I can’t help it.” He shuddered when he heard the purr of Sirras’s intonation.

“We’re going to show you things when you get here. I want you hot and ready when you come. And don’t forget the toy bag.”

“When I come?” God, he wasn’t certain he could wait.

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Fires of Crete – an excerpt

Fires of Crete

(#eroticromance #gayromance #MM #contemporary)

firesofcrete_cover_smUnexpected, instantaneous, and combustible attraction. Two strangers meet online sharing a passion for Minoan history. An invitation to holiday on Crete. Andrew Larson, a studious university professor, and Stephanos Angelika, an attractive up-and-coming young Greek executive, finally meet, and an undeniable need blazes to life. They have two weeks to explore this heady level of their relationship. Is it lust or something deeper?

Andrew, adopted as a child, has only a medallion that ties him to his Greek heritage. And a faded photograph of a young woman, the name of a village scrawled across the back. He sets upon a journey of discovery, but finds even more than he bargained for when he sees Stephanos awaiting him at the airport on Crete.

Stephanos leads a cautious, solitary life as a young gay man leery of living his lifestyle openly, already estranged from a family that has disowned him. It’s a huge leap when he invites Andrew to visit. Upon seeing Andrew, Stephanos knows everything will change.
The friendship that began online erupts into something far stronger and lasting. Will the weight of past wounds destroy the deepening bond they have come to share? Or will it be love that triumphs?

EXCERPT

Stephanos left the apartment at dawn, before Andrew was up, in order to walk the silent streets and clear his head. He had to come to a decision; the sexual tensions that existed between him and Andrew had reached breaking point. He came to the steps of a Greek Orthodox Church. He often wound up here either late at night or early in the morning, when he was particularly conflicted. Something drew him to climb the steps and walk into this sacred space. Perhaps he would find that elusive answer he searched for in regard to his relationship with Andrew.

He studied the Byzantine-inspired architecture, focused on the cross affixed above the archway, and then walked inside. He inhaled the incense-scented air, the aroma of polished wood, studied the rectangular stained-glass windows for a moment, then sat down in the last pew and allowed the peaceful spirituality of the atmosphere to envelop him. His father had lived by the creed of this church. Had Stephanos wandered so very far away? He closed his eyes and bowed his head, instinctively reciting the prayers he had memorized as a child. They were a comforting ritual, and slowly the tension eased. All the memories of his youth came flooding back. Bittersweet now. He opened his eyes and stared up at the cross mounted above the altar, waiting for an answer.

He jumped when a hand settled on his shoulder. He glanced up, was shocked when he saw Andrew staring down at him.

“What are you doing here?” he whispered as he slid deeper into the pew.

“I heard you leave, and I decided to follow. Call it a hunch,” Andrew said quietly.

Stephanos stared at the cross. “I don’t know what to do,” he finally admitted out loud. “I think I am a coward.”

Andrew reached for his hand, and Stephanos gripped it tightly. More tightly than he probably should have.

“What do you want to do?” Andrew asked.

Andrew’s steadying touch felt right to Stephanos. His presence was steadfast and necessary to Stephanos’s happiness and well-being.

“I don’t want to push you away. But I want more than friendship. I don’t want to lose the camaraderie we have established and exchange it for something less…substantial and fleeting, Andrew. Our relationship is too important to me.”

Andrew squeezed Stephanos’s hand. “Realistically anything beyond friendship can’t last. I have to return to the States in less than two weeks. But I’ll admit that I want more even though I know it can’t last.”

“I don’t know what to do. It seems I’ve waited all my life for now—for meeting you. And now I’m paralyzed. What if it’s not right? We can’t go back.”

“Everything is a risk. You could have stayed in the mountains, with your family, and never known something of the world. Do you regret what you did?”

“There are some days that I do, yes.”

“Because you’re alone now? But you know who you are, don’t you? Better than you did before? Do you really want to go back to that naïveté?”

It didn’t take Stephanos long to consider his answer. “No. Even with being disowned, I couldn’t change it if I wanted to. It’s inside me, and I can’t alter who I am, although some would think that would be an easy thing to do.”

“Risks are part of life. They’re scary, but they make us feel alive. Don’t you think?”

“Alive,” Stephanos repeated. “Yes, but I want more. I want to be free.”

“Come home, Stephanos. I want to be free too. I want to fly. With you.”

Stephanos looked at the angled fresco on the domed ceiling. Again, he thought of Icarus and how high he flew, how close to the sun he got. Was it worth it to feel the fire, to soar that close to a flame so bright? Wasn’t there always a price to be paid? Perhaps wounds borne? Stephanos twisted around to look at Andrew. He smiled and then stood up.

He got the answer he’d come for. Maybe not in quite the fashion he’d expected, but it was a response he embraced.

The sun was just beginning to ascend in the sky as they made their way back to Stephanos’s apartment, walking slowly. Stephanos still gripped Andrew’s hand, afraid to let go.

It was as they rounded the corner of Stephanos’s building that he pulled back and dragged Andrew into his arms. It was at the corner of his street where he kissed Andrew, thrusting his tongue deep into Andrew’s mouth. It was in the elevator that Andrew cupped Stephanos’s face with both hands and claimed a kiss, tongues clashing, lips fused, until the bell dinged and the elevator doors silently slid open when it arrived at Stephanos’s floor.

But it was inside the apartment when the fire roared out of control. Hardly had the door slammed shut when the inferno consumed them with the hunger of suppressed lust now freed as a wildfire racing across a drought-ridden field too encompassing to even think of quenching before it consumed everything in its path. And more than anything, Stephanos wanted to be engulfed by the fires of Andrew’s passion. Anogia and Andrew’s search for his past would have to wait another day.

In their own world now, sequestered from prying eyes, passion knew no bounds. Hands and tongues and bodies fused and mated. There was unleashed urgency to their movements, to their ravening hunger. And there would be no stopping the firestorm that erupted with full force.

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Now available on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07KCNDGFW

Currently a #kindleunlimited selection

The Drifter – an excerpt

The Drifter

#old west #historical #erotic romance #MF

the drifter_smThe post-Civil War west brings Slade McCord, a haunted, scarred man, brutally betrayed by love and almost destroyed by life, to the wild Arizona Territory on a mission. Lillian Manchester, the sheltered daughter of a rancher, yearns for adventure and dreams of the love and companionship of a strong man–the only one that can tame her restless, wildfire heart.Like a fresh breeze across the arid desert, Lillian’s indomitable spirit and zest for living breathe renewed life into the shell of the man, and Slade is seduced by his desire for the fiery, sensual beauty of a desert flower meant for him alone.

Can he break free of the chains that bind him to the past to accept what Lillian offers? Or should he ride away and forget he was ever offered a second chance to live…and love?

EXCERPT

She hated being here, hated her dress, the need to act like a lady, to hide her feelings and pretend she was happy when she was dying inside little by little.

Walking toward Neptune’s stall, she was determined to saddle her and leave, just ride out into the night, free of it all, needing to feel the wind carry her away.

“Here to meet one of your lovers, Miss Lillian?”

About to open Neptune’s stall, Lilly’s hand stilled and she stiffened, her breath caught in her chest. “Slade.” She turned toward his voice, the swishing of her skirt and petticoats the only sound in the dim, silent barn.

She saw a flicker of a match as he lit the end of a cigar, smelled its pungent, smoky odor. The moon was full and its glow filtered through the long windows. She could just make out Slade’s shadowy figure as he leaned against an empty stall several feet from Neptune’s.

“I didn’t realize anyone was in here.” Her heart pumped furiously in her chest. Had he followed her?

“Sorry if I’m ruining a private party, ma’am.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

Lilly was puzzled by his apparent need to try to hurt her. How could he think Lilly would let another man touch her after what they shared? But she wouldn’t let him know his words wounded. She lowered her lashes, trying to hide her expression.

“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t. Would you care?”

He shrugged. “What you do is your business. I have no say, but you wouldn’t want to get a reputation for being fast and loose.”

Lilly wanted to lash out at him, hurt him the way he tried to hurt her. “Maybe I’m just trying to build on what you taught me, gain a little more experience.” Her voice quavered slightly, but she forced herself to steady it. “Men like experience, don’t they?” She taunted him, knew she would be sorry, but couldn’t stop.

Her gaze followed the lit end of the cigar as it dropped to the floor, a booted foot stomped hard, extinguishing the end, and Slade strode toward her. He grabbed both her arms in a cruel grip, and yanked her close to him. His scent filled her, his anger was tangible.

“Is that what you’re looking for, Lilly? More experience?” He bit out the words between clenched teeth, words that smashed into her, seconds before his mouth crashed down branding her.

Eagerly she surrendered, opened her mouth, and welcomed him. His taste was smoky, male, tinged with a hint of whiskey. It intoxicated her. His hands moved suggestively over her breasts, dropping to her waist. His fingers bit into her hips, yanking her to him.

“If experience is what you want, I’m more than willing to oblige.” He pulled her toward the empty stall, out of sight of the main part of the barn, then pulled her into his arms again.

Lilly knew he thought he punished her, that she would run from him, but she reveled in his touch. It would never be enough. What he wanted–any way he wanted it–she willingly gave to him.

She’d never seen him angry before, but could taste the raging fire now. Had she managed to rouse the jealous beast with her unrestrained flirting? Surprisingly, the consequences of her actions didn’t frighten her. Instead, Lilly was elated she’d managed to breach his defenses. She’d goaded him, challenged him, and now she would reap the results of her words. Eagerly she submitted to his demands, anything to break through the wall that guarded his heart.

Roughly, Slade turned her to face the wall, pushing her forward, he yanked her skirts up, and her drawers down, ripping them in the process. She stood submissively, her hands flat against the wall, breathing fast in anticipation. Hard hands at her waist lifted her, and she felt his thick shaft at her entrance. Lilly inhaled sharply at his abrupt thrust as he impaled her, driving deep. There was no pain, she was slick with arousal, ready for him, and felt his forceful possession of her all the way to her soul. A pleasurable pain erupted through her entire body. She felt like a sparkler lit on the fourth of July, bursting with fire, as she met his savage, deep thrusts willingly.

“Jesus, woman, why do you do it?” he groaned against her neck, his thrusts halted with him fully buried inside her.

He nibbled at her sensitive neck, grazed his teeth along her exposed shoulder and she whimpered with desire.

“Damn you, Lilly, damn you for making me feel. Damn you for making me want you, need you the way I do.”

 

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Sexual Chemistry

Erupting Sexual Chemistry Between Nathaniel and Elijah in Knave of Hearts

knaveofhearts_smIn Knave of Hearts, Elijah and Nathaniel seem very different from each other. Nathaniel is high-powered and all about business and the end result. Elijah is all about emotion and people. Elijah’s guardian, Charles, the head of a very thriving business empire,  is dying of cancer. Elijah, a sound engineer, has returned to Seattle to be with him during his final days. He could care less about the business, he’s here for Charles, and is dealing with a range of emotions concerning the loss of his only family.

Nathaniel seems almost a mirror of Charles in that he also is the head of a thriving business. He’s come to Seattle to help assure the security of Charles’s empire as a transition of leadership must occur without incident. Nathaniel is all about the business and emotion does not play into his life. Not that he hasn’t had his share of lovers. But lovers in Nathaniel’s world usually involve an ulterior motive.

The twelves steps of intimacy rears its head at a most inopportune moment. At least for Elijah it is. His focus in on Charles and his guardian’s needs during these final days. His emotions have everything to do with love for his guardian, and nothing to do with sex or have a short-term affair to ease tensions. Until the night of Charles’ birthday party–his last. And everything changes when one man walks through the door of the hotel ballroom.

Chemistry is what erupts. Eye to body. When Nathaniel first lays on Nathaniel, not even knowing his name he is intrigued. Eye to eye. Interest sharply deepens when they come face to face a little later in the evening, but not close enough to speak. Yet eye contact is achieved. The eyes can say a great deal. Voice to voice. And when a moment of respite from the party brings Elijah to the reception area for a moment of quiet, he gets anything but peace when Nathaniel finally initiates a conversation between them.

“You’re with Charles Ballard.”

Elijah’s head shot up. He must be dreaming. He blinked. Nope, the image didn’t go away. He got to his feet in order to face the gorgeous stranger. No socialite clinging to his arm. He was making conversation with Elijah. Elijah took a deep, shuddering breath. Oh, shit. Had he ever been less prepared for an encounter than this?

“Uh, yeah. I am.” Now what did he say? This was not the impression he wanted to make. Where was the brunette? Was he maybe just being polite by dancing with her? Oh, man. “Are you a business associate of his?”

“You might say that. I just arrived in Seattle. I received the invitation and thought I’d stop in to the party for a bit. But as I said, I’ve only arrived in town. I was just getting ready to go back to my hotel.”

“Oh.” Too bad. “Will you be in Seattle long?” Perhaps the question was a bit too eager.

“A while. A few weeks at least. Perhaps a month. It will depend.”

Too bad Elijah was leaving with Charles, so it was kind of a moot point. Though he would have liked to get to know this man better. Then a desperation to not lose the connection kicked in. He needed something normal…like a little flirtation, to keep him sane. He saw a discarded cocktail napkin on the table. He pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket, and scribbled his name and cell number. This was not something he did every day, but these seemed to be unusual circumstances. He had no idea if the guy was interested or not. If his business had anything to do with Charles directly or not. Whether he was just trying to make small talk or find out more about Charles. Frankly, it didn’t matter. Not one whit.

“If you happen to find yourself at loose ends, why don’t you give me a call?”

The stranger glanced at the napkin, then back at Elijah. “But you’re with Charles.”

Elijah nodded. “Yeah. I have to leave or I’d ask if you wanted to go for a coffee. Charles is getting a little tired and he needs to get home. But maybe another time, while you’re in town. You gotta name?”

The stranger seemed to be sizing him up. He reached out for the napkin. “I do have a name.” He glanced down at the phone number, then slipped the napkin into his breast pocket. “Elijah.” The way he said it was slow and drawn out. His tone was low, his voice soft and deep. Elijah recognized the tone. He gave Elijah a mysterious smile. “And if I decide to call, perhaps I’ll give it to you. Goodbye for now.” And then he turned and strolled away toward the front door of the hotel.

That Nathaniel, he is a smooth one all right. But don’t underestimate Elijah. He’s no pushover and he’ll give Nathaniel a run for his money–just as soon as he finds out the damned man’s name. And we still have like nine steps of intimacy to go. Oh, boy, was this story fun to write.

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Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07963HDWN

Excerpt from Caution: Wet Paint

Caution: Wet Paint

#erotic romance #menage #bisexual #multicultural

Caution_WetPaint_smLove defies boundaries as three passionate lovers, torn apart by circumstances, are reunited once again.

Artists Arturo Cipriano and Prince Samir Zahi first met four years ago and discovered shared passion, both in art and in bed. Yet it wasn’t until these men found their muse—their perfect woman—in the form of Clara Simms, that their world became complete and their shared flame burned the brightest. But eventually, Samir was recalled to his war-torn country, separated from his lovers and his passions. For three long years, Arturo and Clara had tried to go on without him, but nothing was quite the same.

But now Samir returns, and no reunion has ever been as blistering. This time, will their love triangle last, or will it once again be torn asunder?

EXCERPT

Clara Simms had taken a dare four years ago and had posed nude for an art class while she was in college. How could she ever have thought it would lead to the most devastating and passionate love affair she would ever have? With two men who had loved each other as much as they seemed to have loved her. At the time. Neither she nor Arturo were ever the same after Samir’s disappearance. How could something so right have gone so wrong? It wasn’t that she didn’t still love Arturo, nor that he didn’t have feelings for her. But with Samir gone, something had changed.

The painting brought it all back, a dam burst with memories, images of passion, the feel of artistic expression, the rampant desire that would not allow her to rest.

Too many times she’d woken up in absolute agony, remembering her loss, only to discover the spot next to her empty, Arturo sitting in a corner of the darkened room, smoking a cigarette, and gazing at a blank canvas. Understanding had not made it any easier. Samir had been so much a part of both of them.

Arturo still painted, but some of that passion was missing, and it often left him frustrated and difficult to be around. It’s one of the reasons they still kept their separate apartments. She remembered the night he had walked out, and the agony in his expression as he’d looked at her. Even that memory still caused her pain. And loneliness.

She worked, she lived, she breathed, but she somehow felt distanced, living on the fringes of life. Arturo still painted, but he never used her as the model she was created to be for two men who, together, should have taken the art world by storm. That intimacy was missing and there wasn’t a day that passed that she didn’t yearn to reclaim it.

She so missed the intimacy of that summer three years ago. Clara couldn’t bring herself to return to the site of her complete surrender. Not just of her body, but of her soul. They had owned her, bound her to them. Molded her into something more than she had been, a living piece of art who could not survive without them.

And yet, much to her surprise, she had survived without Samir, as had Arturo. And done well enough. Clara Simms, the daughter of an oil baron, didn’t need to work. There was plenty of money to do whatever she liked. An only child of globetrotting parents, raised by nannies, she had never wanted for anything. Material, that is. She had never felt loved. Until Arturo and Samir.

Money truly could not buy happiness, or love. But she’d learned that too much time on her hands was not a good thing. She’d found a job, went to it religiously every day. And then home every night. Well, almost every night.

“So you know him, Clara? Does he have anything at your gallery? I want to see more. It’s as though I can’t get enough. I want to climb right inside. Do you know who the model was?”

It was a personal thing. Not to be shared. The relationship she had with Arturo and Samir was not for public consumption. Few would have understood it anyway. Even Clara’s best friend.

“No, we don’t have anything at the gallery that was done by the two of them. This is the first piece I’ve seen in years. I wonder who’s handling the work?”

Maggie, her friend since they’d both attended St. Mary’s private school, looked at her in surprise. She worked as a buyer at the exclusive store next door to this one. Every Friday, they met for lunch. “Now you’ve shocked me. I thought you knew every artist there was to know in this town.”

That was the worst part. She’d spent years trying to track down what had happened to Samir with absolutely no success. She wanted to know he was safe and happy. That he had wanted to go. Arturo had refused to talk about what had happened when Samir left.

Heat threaded through her as memory took over. Her nipples screwed into tight beads. She remembered that first encounter. Both Arturo and Samir had been seniors, sharing an apartment at that point in their lives. Just like her, both had been living on generous allowances from their families…although she doubted their families knew of their intimate relationship. At least at the time. Clara so belied her name. A puritan name for a not particularly puritan heart once she got to know them.

Hard, naked bodies pressed her between them. Hands sweeping across her skin. Touching her. Fingertips brushing across her lips, her nipples.

Oh, God, she didn’t want to remember. Not now. Her whole body ached.

Through the whole session, while she posed, she’d flirted silently with the two hot-looking, black-eyed young artists on the left side of the room. By the time the session was over, her body was burning up, her pussy soaking wet. And she knew there was something more going on with the two men than strictly modeling. But she’d not known how tightly woven together the art and the sex would be.

And then panic shoved all other thought out of her head. Did Arturo know the paintings had resurfaced?

“I have to go, Maggie. I’m sorry.”

“But we haven’t had lunch yet.”

“I know, I know. But I forgot an appointment. I’ll catch up with you later.” Clara fled from the department store. She had to get to Arturo.

 

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Currently a #kindleunlimited selection

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Aristaeus, the Original Beekeeper of Myth

Aristaeus, the Original Beekeeper of Myth

bee_flower-9665Although Ambrosia is an original creation orchestrated with the assistance of my muse, it is based on the belief held by the ancient Greeks and Romans that honey is the nectar of the gods. Did you also know that the name for honey comes from the Hebrew word for Enchant?

Legend has it that Aristaeus was a shepherd, the son of the water nymph, Cyrene. It is said that he was the first to teach the art of beekeeping. When Aristaeus’ bees perished (it is unknown whether it was through disease or accident of nature), he went to plead help from his mother. In agreeing to assist him, Cyrene led him to the Prophet Proetus who revealed to him a ceremony he must perform that would help him to rebuild his hives. Aristaeus did as Proetus directed and his hives were restored. Hence, the first beekeeper and the origin of the legend as told through the voices of ancient belief.

The recipe I offer in this delightfully delicious story is based on the ancient art of ambrosia_smstorytelling. “What if” I combine the “nectar of the gods,” with a fickle goddess as guardian, add in an “enchanting” beesinger named Ambrosia with a vow to fulfill, and one handsome lord with a desperate mission to save his people? For flavoring, mix in the biology of bees with the reviving spirit of a sweet magical elixir, and one has the recipe for an intriguing erotic fantasy romance. My result was Ambrosia.

One last tidbit to leave you with. Did you know that honey comes in many variations of color and flavor? Several factors can influence the taste and look of honey such as the variety of flower, the soil chemistry, and the honeycomb quality. It can have the look of gold, red, or even green. What a delicious combination–sweet, colorful…and sensual. So be sure to enjoy the story…and the food.

Ambrosia, now available at these fine ebook retailers:

Find it on Amazon.com: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N9736YH
Books2Read Universal Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/4Aglyp
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/705901

 

 

 

 

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