I dreamt you made love to me last night. Even awake now, I can feel your mouth on my neck, my jaw. If I close my eyes I can see you, your shoulders bunching as you thrust into me.
The ache, the longing in my core for your touch makes me giddy and frustrated at once. My nipples pinch hard with desire and I let my mind replay the memory of your mouth, your teeth and tongue torturing them. Blissful, sinful torture.
My sex grows heavy and wet with want, a deep hunger I can no longer deny.
I am curious. Will I dream of you again tonight?
Will you dream of me?
Perchance to Dream Part II
You came to my dreams again last night.
I felt your warm hands smooth over my calves, caress the back of my knees, the inside of my thighs. Your weight shifted the mattress beneath me and I opened my eyes, looking up into your dark, dark eyes.
This is wrong, I said, my body aching for your touch.
This is us, you replied, and dipped your head to my belly.
I shifted on the sheets, my legs parting to your gentle fingers. You stroked the wetness between my thighs with soft yet confident fingers, your lips charting a languid path from my navel down to the curve of my sex. I hitched in a breath, my fists tangling in the sheets. Your tongue parted my folds.
And I woke.
Perchance to Dream Part III
My waking hours become torture. You never leave my thoughts. Every touch makes me think of your fingers sliding over my limbs, every breath I take is tainted with your scent, everything voice I hear is yours.
I wait impatiently until I see you again, knowing what is to come.
The bed calls me, a siren’s song of dreams. My clothes slip from my body, a silken caress that make my nipples harden. You will take them in your mouth soon, and at the thought my thighs grow wet, my breath quickens.
I close my eyes and count not sheep, but the minutes until you will touch me. The seconds until you will smooth your hands up my legs, my belly. The agonizing moments until you will cup my breasts and part my thighs with your legs.
I wait, the sheets already tangled around me, my sex damp.
And then you are there. With me.
You press your lips to my shoulder, your breath a teasing kiss on my bare flesh, your hands charting a languid exploration of my body, and say: “Tell me what you want me to do to you.”
Perchance to Dream Part IV
You grip my hips, your fingers sinking into the flesh there. I whimper, lifting my butt from the mattress. You laugh, a low throaty sound of triumph. You know you have me. The battle has been won and I am not the victor. No matter how I try, I cannot escape this.
You move over me, staring down into my eyes, commanding me to look at you without saying a word. There are no words necessary. Not at this moment in time. This is what it is. Carnal. Undeniable. No matter how I try, I cannot escape this.
Have I tried? Have I?
The sweat beads on our flesh. We move as one, your hands sliding over my breasts, my shoulders. Holding me still as you enter me. One long, slow thrust that claims me. Owned. Caught. Even though I know this is all a dream, just a goddamn dream, I moan and you laugh again, your lips on my throat.
“Did you really think you could deny this?” you whisper in my ear, cupping my breast with one strong hand as the other smoothes down to my arse. “Did you really want to?”
I let out a hitched cry. I had.
But I have no defense against my dreams, and in my dreams, you conquer me.
And take the spoils of war. Over and over and over again.
(Part V Coming Soon…)
When the overseers of LA’s most exclusive BDSM club declare the start of a sexy new game that all members must play Anna has no choice but to participate. Master Jensen knows who, and what, he wants—Anna—but before he can have her he’ll have to prove to the lovely submissive that he can master every letter of the alphabet.
Are you ready for some serious sexiness? If yes, you need “A is for…”
This super sexy BDSM story was originally intended to be straight erotic. None of this “plot” or “romance” nonsense, but low and behold…it ended up having both.
How about an excerpt?
Blame it on the Bass releases today. Today. Book Six of the Heart of Fame series releases today. Who would have thought I’d be six books into a series way back in September 2011 when I wrote a little novella called Tropical Sin about two best friends and the jaded rock star that brought them together? I am so very proud of this book (I think it’s my best book to date) and hope those of you who have been following along love it as well. (Check out the graphic at the very end of this post to see how all the worlds of my contemporary romance stories connect)
Can they mend his broken heart?
Heart of Fame, Book 6
After a horrific accident robs rock legend Levi Levistan and his long-time partner, Corbin, of their dream of becoming parents, Levi is lost in a sea of grief. Until he runs into an old high school flame and their chemistry reignites.
Corbin Smith is intent on bridging the chasm between their hearts. But witnessing his lover’s steamy onstage kiss with a woman jolts him to the core with sexual arousal. And he realizes the key to their healing is standing in Levi’s arms.
As an erotic romance editor, nothing much unsettles Sonja Stone. She’s not even surprised at her body’s powerful reaction to Levi’s kiss. But when Corbin approaches them, eyes smoldering with hunger, his suggestion shakes her to the core.
Sensing their unspoken wounds, Sonja agrees to take a chance on a threesome. Their union is explosively perfect, but something is holding Levi back from sealing their searing emotional connection. Something that could destroy their love once and for all…
This book contains angst, torment, sarcasm, humour, scorching m/m sex, searing m/f sex and explosive m/m/f sex. And a memory of a horrific past that may disturb some readers.
Sonja’s heart didn’t just jump into her throat. It rammed up there in an explosive beat and tried to pound its way from her body. She gaped at him. Then she caught herself gaping at him and scowled instead. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you stalking me?”
He laughed, a wry chuckle she’d never forgotten. It had been the kind of chuckle he gave anyone foolish enough to tell him he was good at something. The kind that said he didn’t think he was, but thank you for the thought. “No,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling. For the first time, Sonja noticed the wrinkles there. It made her realize he wasn’t an eighteen-year-old boy anymore. Nor was she sixteen.
Scowling some more, she leant her elbow on the side of the doorframe. And then realized the action—designed to look sarcastically indifferent—raised the hem of her T-shirt.
Dropping her arm, she pressed her thighs together. She wanted to tug at the hem of her shirt but didn’t. She was ninety-nine percent certain there was nothing peeking out down there. God, when was the last time she’d trimmed? “How’d you know where I lived?” she asked, mentally cringing at the blush heating her cheeks. Christ, why was she thinking about her pubic hair now? “And more to the point, what the hell are you doing here?”
A small smile pulled at Levi’s lips. Sonja pressed her thighs harder together, her heart fast. She remembered all too easily how wonderful those lips felt on hers. And thanks to her dreams, how exquisite they felt sealed around her nipples. And down on her—
“I called my agent,” Levi said. There was no apology in his voice, nor boast. Just a simple statement of fact. “Told him to get your address.”
Sonja gave him a mocking face. “Oh, of course, why didn’t I think of that?”
He gave her one back. The kind that said duh. But his smile curled a little wider, and the playful light she remembered just as well as the feel of his lips danced in his eyes. For a moment.
A heartbeat of silence stretched between them, all the more absurd, in Sonja’s opinion, by the fact she was half-naked and he was stupidly famous and on her doorstep to begin with.
Huffing out a sigh, she crossed her arms over her breasts. Someone had to make the first move, may as well be her. “Why did you tell your agent to get my address, Stan? Why are you here?”
Tension stole over him at her question. The small smile on his lips and in his eyes faded. He balled his hands into fists at his side. His gaze flicked around the air above her head. “I need to ask…there’s something I want…something I’m hoping you…”
Sonja cocked an eyebrow. Levi Levistan visibly flustered? This was a first. “Something your agent can’t procure for you?” She knew she wasn’t being easy on him. Why that was the case, she wasn’t sure. Maybe because he’d swooped back into her life from out the blue, kissing her when he had no right to do so. Making her have horny dreams about him and his boyfriend. Maybe because he was famous and had forgotten all about her.
A cool autumn wind swirled around her bare legs, making her nipples pinch into pointed tips. Narrowing her eyes, she wriggled her arms closer to her breasts. She didn’t want him seeing her hard nipples and thinking they were that way because of him.
But they are that way because of him. The breeze isn’t that cool, woman, and you know it.
“Maybe you need to pay him more?” she suggested. “Isn’t that what agents are meant to be for? I know the literary agents I have to deal with all seem hell bent on getting whatever their clients want, and none of my authors are as famous as you.”
“Oh, that’s right. We haven’t spoken for over two decades, have we?” She didn’t hide her mocking tone. “All we’ve done is sing together, snog in public and then had some weird threesome-argument thing in a crowded bar.”
Today marks the release of not one, but two stories in the Big Easy series. Well…sort of. Prior to today, you could only purchase Crash Point as part of the Riding Desire: Bad Boy Bikers box set. But now…it’s available to purchase individually as well.
Chance has brought Blake Mills back into her life. The textbook bad boy Chloe gave her young body and tender love to ten long years ago. He betrayed her trust, broke her heart, stole from her family…proved just how bad he truly was. Her fury still rages a decade later–so why does she want him more than ever?
Blake never stopped wanting Chloe Lewis. Through years of bad choices, Chloe was his guiding light, leading him away from a life of crime to turn him into the man he’s become, a respectable, decorated member of the NOPD. Now, seeing her again, Blake understands the mere memory of their love, their combustible lust, will never be enough.
When they reach the crash point, will love be enough to save them?
“Chloe. Look at me.”
Her eyelids flittered open, her vision clearly fuzzy. He waited until her focus returned. He saw the moment it happened because a crease formed in her brow. They’d acted on impulse, neither of them considering the consequences of what they were doing until now.
Blake’s heart raced and his jaw clenched as he resisted the overwhelming need to thrust, to pound, to fuck.
“I won’t be another regret.”
She frowned. “What?”
“I know you regret what happened between us all those years ago and I wish there was some way I could go back in time and change what I did, but I can’t. I can’t undo the hurt, Chloe. Can’t fix the mistakes.”
“But I’m telling you right now, I can’t be another regret in your life. If that’s what this is going to be, say so and I’ll stop.”
She didn’t speak for several tense moments. Blake held his tongue, gave her time to decide while silently praying he’d have the strength to leave her if that was what she asked.
Finally, she cupped his cheek in her hand. “I don’t want you to stop.”
How much is she willing to risk for a forbidden fantasy?
Though Bella Carper has crushed on Justin and Ned since her first day on the job, she’s smart enough to know a ménage with her hot bosses is probably number one on the list of workplace no-nos. But a frigid genius wouldn’t say no to their exceptionally tempting offer — a no-holds-barred night of wicked fantasies at a local sex club.
Justin and Ned believe in propriety in the workplace, but falling for their sexy graphic artist has blurred the line between professional and personal. These Big Easy men might surprise their small-town girl with their bedroom habits. But the biggest shock could come the morning after…when Bella discovers what they really want.
“Open your legs. I want to see exactly how wet you are.” Justin tugged on her knee as he issued the command, then felt Ned’s hand on the other. Her thighs parted easily as her skirt inched higher. She tried to tug it down, but Ned caught her wrist, his voice deep, stern.
“Ned,” she whispered, uncertainty creeping in again. There was a difference between talking and doing. They’d test her limits tonight, push her completely out of her comfort zone.
Justin leaned closer, trying to set her mind at ease. Ned was always too intense, his need to control a woman coming out stronger, darker. While Justin didn’t think Bella was balking, she was still a novice and probably not completely confident in her decision to pursue this adventure. “Trust us, Bells. We’ll never hurt you.”
Her expression cleared, showing him just how much faith she had in them. It twisted Justin’s insides, made him warm, happy.
She touched his face gently. “I do trust you. Completely. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
Unable to resist any longer, Justin ran his hand along the inside of her leg. He sat close enough to hear her sharp intake of breath. The heat of her pussy hit him before his fingers reached their goal. Their girl was on fire.
Then he hit pay dirt. Bella’s eyes closed as he stroked his finger along her slit. She was heat and moisture and sex incarnate.
Ned leaned closer. “Don’t close your eyes, Bella. Look at what’s happening on that stage.”
Bella lifted her eyelids slowly and he watched her struggle to focus. Justin studied her face and realized when she recognized what was happening in the performance.
“She misbehaved,” Ned whispered as Justin circled her clit. Bella bit her lip so tightly, he worried she’d split the skin and draw blood.
Ned continued to talk about the show onstage. “Her teacher is angry with her. He’s punishing her.”
The actor onstage—the professor—had bent his naughty schoolgirl over his desk and taken out a ruler. The scene was an old, familiar one, but Justin could tell from Bella’s responses it was speaking to some hidden desires. Did she like the idea of being punished by an authority figure?
She slid down on her chair—just a little, but enough—to allow Justin better access to her pussy. He didn’t accept her invitation, determined to crank the heat even higher. While the silent actions of her body told him she wanted a stronger touch, he wouldn’t give in until she was pleading, begging. He dragged his finger over her clit once more, making the touch lighter this time.
She groaned softly.
“We’ll punish you the same way the next time you’re late to work.”
Bella’s gaze jerked to Ned’s face. No doubt she wanted to reiterate the time limit she’d placed on this encounter, but neither of them was in the mood to continue that pretense. Justin pressed on her clit again, distracting her before moving lower to circle the entrance to her pussy.
Bella’s breathing became more labored. Between Justin’s touches and Ned’s dirty promises, she appeared to be losing her grip, relinquishing control of her inhibitions.
“We’ll pull you into my office, bend you over the desk, lift your skirt and yank down your panties.”
“I don’t wear skirts to work,” Bella whispered, though it was clear she was turned-on by Ned’s story.
“You will from now on. We’re changing the dress code for you.”
She looked as if she would argue, so Justin went for more distraction, pressing the tip of his finger into her wet pussy.
She closed her eyes, her expression betraying how much she loved this. She gave herself up to the moment.
“I’ll pull a ruler out of my desk drawer and Justin and I will take turns spanking you. I want to see that sexy ass of yours blush as prettily as your cheeks are right now.”
Justin pressed his finger deeper, realizing Ned’s fantasy wasn’t just working against Bella. His cock was so stiff it hurt. The tight clench of her pussy didn’t help. She felt like heaven.
Ned added more fuel to the fire building in her body. “Once we’ve finished punishing you, we’ll take turns fucking you from behind. You’re going to spend hours with our cocks inside you from now on, beauty.”
So what better way to celebrate than with a collection of some of the finest men on the planet…
(Hee hee hee God, I love the last one!)
Now, your turn. Give me a birthday present of a sexy guy. The person to make me drool the most wins an ARC of Blame it on the Bass (which releases in 48 hours)