Gracefully Aroused: The Best of K D Grace

The Best of K D GraceFrom a love spell that doesn’t quite go to plan to a farmhand who needs a little discipline; from a woman who is addicted to the confessional to a personal trainer with a very unorthodox method of guaranteeing his clients they’ll look fab come bikini season, K D Grace will tell you a naughty story with a twist. Before there was Ms Holly and the Pet Shop, before there were sexy ghosts, before Grace Marshall upped the romance ante, K D Grace was into quickies, and here’s a selection of her naughtiest.

Hired Hand
Pretty city boy, Tim Harris, is the last man Suzie Sheridan would have hired to help her on the farm had he not been the only one who applied for the job. But with strict discipline generously applied in all the right places, even Suzie is amazed at just how good a hired hand Tim turns out to be …

Personal Trainer
Penny Davis can’t afford to hire a personal trainer to get her fit for bikini season until ex-military hard man, Hawk Sturgis, offers her an unorthodox fitness regimen and an even more unorthodox payment plan, guaranteed to have her heating up the beach in her new bikini just in time for the summer hols.

Accidental Hitchhiker
On a road trip across America, Liz Martin’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, and the ride a Good Samaritan lorry driver offers her is not exactly the one she expected.

Productivity
Under the careful supervision of his unorthodox management consultant, a stressed company CEO learns a hands-on technique guaranteed to up productivity.

Flaws
Love spells are the most dangerous kind of magic. Mick Denver learns the hard way when he enlists Sally Haddon, a witch who specialises in sex magic, to help him win the affections of his new co-worker, the exquisite and dangerous Darlene.

Hard Times at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility
Sadie’s sexual appetite is out of control, and a spell at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility is intended to put it right. It isn’t long before fellow inmate Carol is showing her how to bend the facility’s strict rules, earning them both punishments that are more than worth the crime.

Confessions
Confession is good for the soul, but Hail Marys and Our Fathers aren’t nearly enough to gain absolution when Jilly confesses to an unsuspecting priest that confession makes her come.

Excavations
While volunteering on an archaeological dig, Gina and Mike discover new and exciting ways to help their workaholic professor relieve stress – and he introduces them to one or two methods of his own, which are far from academic.

Seeing Red
We all give off body heat, but only Jenny can see the red glow it gives off, darker and more intense the more turned on we become. When she’s compelled to follow a fellow bus passenger whose scarlet desires are too powerful to ignore, she learns the real secret of her unique vision.

Pheromones
An unusually powerful sense of smell gives Chloe the ability to sniff out the scents of people in lust. When she volunteers for a research trial into pheromones, she doesn’t realise the scientist in charge will have the perfect, sexy aroma she’s always craved in a lover.

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US
Xcite Books

Coming soon to all other good eBook retailers.

 

Hired Hand

It irritated Suzie the way Tim Harris worked without a shirt, like he didn’t know how distracting that was. She watched him muck out the barn, grunting slightly with each thrust of the pitch fork, breathing heavily from the effort. If she closed her eyes she could easily imagine him doing something else. To her.

She dragged her gaze away from the hard play of muscles, muscles that, no doubt, came from some cushy air conditioned gym, which is probably where he got his tan.

Working bare-chested might cool him down a bit, but it only made her hotter. She had nearly forgotten the clit-stiffening scent of sweaty maleness, earthy and slightly piquant, a scent that, amid the barnyard animal smells, caused her own animal nature to squirm and stretch and sniff.

He was too damn good looking to be a real hired hand. From Chicago, he said, by way of London – in England! He arrived complete with an accent that never failed to make her tits tight. Rural Missouri was a long way from London. What would a pretty city boy know about farming? He would have been the last man she would have hired had he not been the only one who applied for the job.

‘Let me see your hands,’ she commanded.

He jumped and nearly dropped the pitch fork. ‘I didn’t hear you come in, Suzie.’

She tried to keep her eyes on his and not the muscles of his belly, tensing and relaxing into his low-slung jeans that always seemed to be hiding something just barely contained, something she hadn’t stopped thinking about since he arrived at Sheridan Farm.

He removed his gloves and held his hands out, palms up for her inspection, offering her a warm smile. ‘Blisters are healed. I’m starting to get callouses.’

‘About damn time. I’m not paying you to be an invalid.’ She couldn’t help herself; she gave his palms an open-handed stroke, thinking how good those callouses would feel against more sensitive parts of her body.

As she did so, he dropped a glove. She stooped to pick it up, closer to his groin than she intended, close enough to notice his package was straining his Levis this morning. The tangy, male rutting smell made her mouth water. Suddenly the sweat between her breasts wasn’t the only moisture she was feeling. She fought back the urge to jerk open his fly and bury her face against his bulge, reminding herself she hadn’t earned the respect of the other farmers without discipline and self-control.

After her father’s death, she kept the family farm working against all odds, and she wasn’t going to let some city boy’s bulging jeans slow her down. She stood quickly and handed back his glove.

‘I’m going into town to get the seed corn. You can drive a tractor, right?’

‘I can drive anything you need me to drive,’ he replied.

She assumed that meant he didn’t know a standard transmission from a pogo stick. But when the time came Tim was as good as his word. Ike Melbourne had offered her the use of his tractor for the day, since his son was getting married. While Tim ploughed the field behind the barn she used Ike’s tractor to plant the south 40. It was supposed to rain on Wednesday. With the extra tractor hopefully they’d be done before the weather hit.

She planned to plant into the night, breaking long enough to tend livestock before dark. She hurried about feeding the chickens and the pigs, hearing the steady purr of Tim’s tractor in the field behind the barn. She was checking the water tank in the pig pen when she noticed the silence.

Wiping her hands on her jeans, she walked around the side of the barn. Beyond the stand of oak and elm just on the other side of the fence the tractor stood empty and silent.

*****

K D Grace believes Freud was right. In the end, it really IS all about sex, well sex and love. And nobody’s happier about that than she, cuz otherwise, what would she write about?

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. She walks her stories, and she’s serious about it. She and her husband recently walked the Coast to Coast rout across England. For her, inspiration is directly proportionate to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots.

K D has erotica published with Xcite Books, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, Erotic Review, Ravenous Romance, Sweetmeats Press and others.

K D’s critically acclaimed erotic romance novels include, The Initiation of Ms HollyThe Pet Shop. Her paranormal erotic novel,Body Temperature and Rising, the first book of her Lakeland Heatwave trilogy, was listed as honorable mention on Violet Blue’s Top 12 Sex Books for 2011. Books two and three, Riding the Ether, and Elemental Fire, are now also available.

K D Grace also writes hot romance as Grace Marshall. An Executive DecisionIdentity Crisis, books one and two of her Executive Decisions Trilogy are now available.

Links:

http://kdgrace.co.uk

http://www.twitter.com/kd_grace

http://www.facebook.com/kdgraceauthor

Inventing Herself by Sommer Marsden

Inventing HerselfSophie Calhoun has a good job writing for a hot women’s magazine. Her latest assignment is to do an article about how a strong, confident woman can look deeper into herself to find her centre. The only problem is Sophie feels lost. On a whim one morning, looking for the answers to her unwritten article and the silent turmoil in her heart, she takes a hike. In the wilderness she finds a very large man sitting alone, calm and still and smiling – everything Sophie wants to be. When he opens his eyes and that smile is directed at her, Sophie begins to find herself…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

*****

Excerpt:

‘Now we move into downward dog.’ Joel’s rich caramel voice smoothed over Sophie.

If only she could feel gooey and bendy like caramel. Instead, she felt awkward and clumsy. She pushed back with the heels of her hands as she’d been instructed. Tried to “sink” into the stretch with the heels of her feet.

All she could think was what if I slip? What does my ass look like? And, of course, who farted?

Turned out that wasn’t so much of a myth. Someone had let one go and everyone was acting as if it was no big deal at all.

Which, technically, it wasn’t. It was just a fart, after all. Everyone had gas at some point in their lif –

‘You’re drifting,’ Joel said, his voice very close to her. So close it made Sophie go rigid. ‘Let me help you straighten your pose.’

He stepped up between her spread legs and settled his hands on her hips. Then he proceeded to move her a little here, a little there, until the stretch blazed up her calves and the backs of her hamstrings. It blazed somewhere else too, Sophie noticed as he lingered, tweaking her pose.

When he stepped back from between her legs, his hand stayed on her lower back for a beat before being removed. ‘Good,’ Joel said.
He was big and tall and obviously fit. A shock of dark – almost black – hair and grey eyes. His voice was as smoky and sensual as his body.

Sophie felt colour come to her face that had nothing to do with yoga or being inverted. The class lowered slowly to a plank pose and her muscles started to tremble. In her mind’s eye it was easy to put a face to it now. This man, down between her legs, his mouth on her. His fingers separating and skating over her nether lips. Finding her slick opening and plunging deep, curling to tease her G-spot until she gasped. Then taking her own juices, running up to find the needy swell of her clitoris. Circling and circling until plunging back into her cunt to stroke her most secret places again, his mouth sucking, his tongue nudging, licking, licking, licking until …

‘Now lower down into cobra pose,’ Joel said.

Sophie did, but as she did a noise burst out of her. Her body, on the verge actually coming, supplied the small blip and flutter deep inside of an almost orgasm. The sound was half sigh, half moan, and very, very sultry. Way too sultry for muscle stretching.

Joel chuckled softly. ‘Glad to know you’re enjoying class, Sophie. We’re glad to have you.’

She counted the heartbeats until class was over, she was so mortified. When Joel finally told them to stand and everyone gave what seemed to be the customary “Namaste” a woman in green leggings and a bright blue pullover whispered, ‘Don’t feel so bad. He has that effect on most of the newcomers. Once he touches someone … they’re toast.’

Sophie tried to smile and waited to self-combust.

She nearly set a record changing back into her work clothes, but when she came out Joel called out to her.

‘I was wondering –’ he said, sort of grinning at her.

Sophie caught the gaze of the green-legging woman. She was smiling, her look knowing.

‘Could I … call you? Take you out? Bring you wine and woo you with wild yoga tales?’ He smiled at her and the lust that smile inspired struck right down through the centre of her like a lightning bolt.

‘Um, yeah … sure. In fact –’ She broke off, thinking maybe she shouldn’t say what she was about to say. But fuck it. This whole “finding her centre” thing had taken her very close to thinking she was nuts. Might as well act nuts, right? Maybe Joel was that missing something. ‘How about you come to my place tonight. Bring that wine you mentioned and I can make a nice steak or – wait – do you eat meat?’

He nodded, eyes flashing with amusement. ‘I do. But thank you for asking.’

‘Good,’ she hurried on. Yes, this was it. This was a good thing. Maybe she was just in need of a date. Maybe she was just horny. ‘And maybe a salad and whatever. We can just … we can talk. Get to know one another.’

‘It’s a date,’ he said. He gave her his number so she could text her address.

‘Yes. It is a date,’ she said and hurried out of the studio. Kate was going to kill her!

*****

Bio:

Sommer Marsden’s been called “…one of the top storytellers in the erotica genre” (Violet Blue), “Unapologetic” (Alison Tyler), “…the whirling dervish of erotica” (Craig J. Sorensen), and “Erotica royalty…” (Lucy Felthouse).

Her erotic novels include Restless Spirit, Boys Next Door, Big Bad, Learning to Drown, Wanderlust and the Zombie Exterminator series. Sommer currently writes erotica and erotic romance for Xcite Books, eXcessica, Ellora’s Cave, Pretty Things Press, Resplendence Publishing and Mischief Books. The wine-swigging, dachshund-owning, wannabe runner author writes work that runs the gamut from bondage to zombies to humor.

Sommer’s short works can be found in well over one hundred (and counting) erotic anthologies. Her short stories have also been included numerous adult and romance magazines–both in print and online.

New Release: Smut by the Sea Volume 2

Hurrah! I’m delighted to announce that Smut by the Sea Volume 2, edited by myself and Victoria Blisse, is now available. Here’s the skinny:

Light hearted, sexy fun by the sea is the theme of this erotic anthology, edited by Victoria Blisse and Lucy Felthouse.

From the sun soaked beaches of Brazil to the altogether cooler coastal towns of England, Smut by the Sea Volume 2 has it all. Whatever your interpretation of naughty seaside fun, there’s something nestling between the covers for you. Amusement arcades, beach houses, mermaids, honeymooners, shipwrecks, sex toys and more abound in this exciting collection of stories from erotica’s finest authors.

Contains stories from Victoria Blisse, Tilly Hunter, Rachel Randall, Giselle Renarde, Tamsin Flowers, Lucy Felthouse, Kate Britton, Jillian Boyd, Bel Anderson, Cass Peterson, Delyth Angharad, T C Mill, Erzabet Bishop, Tenille Brown and Annabeth Leong.

And here’s an excerpt from my story, On the Big Wheel:

Brigit loved the seaside. She always had, probably because visiting it was a rarity. Living in the centre of England meant that even the nearest seaside town was over an hour and a half away—and the nice resorts even further.

Which was why her boyfriend, Allen, proposed a long weekend in Brighton. He knew how fond she was of the seaside. Unsurprisingly, she agreed delightedly.

“It’s a long way,” she said. “But it doesn’t matter. We’d never go anywhere if we lamented the length of the journey.”

As it happened, the travelling wasn’t too bad. Miraculously the M1 was clear all the way down to the M25—and even that notorious motorway wasn’t experiencing its usual havoc. A straight shot south on the M23, then the A23 took them towards Brighton, and they navigated the one-way systems and lack of road signs and—eventually—found their hotel.

“Wow,” Brigit said, stretching luxuriously after getting out of the car, “that didn’t take as long as I thought. Shall we check in, dump our bags and go and explore?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Allen replied with a grin.

They slammed their respective car doors, grabbed the bags from the boot and headed into the hotel. Fifteen minutes later, after using the toilet and freshening up, they were back outside.

“Nice choice of hotel, babe. I like it.” Brigit said.

“I’m glad. I researched it well,” Allen replied.

“The bed looks nice and comfy.”

“Well, I’m sure we’ll be able to give it a decent road test later.” He winked at her, and got a slap on the arm for his trouble.

“You’ve got a one-track mind, you have.”

“Well, what do you expect when I’ve got a girlfriend that looks like you?”

She giggled. “Charmer.”

“That’s me. Okay, now I’m back in good books,” Allen said, “what do you want to do? Now, I mean. Not at bedtime.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Brigit stuck her tongue out at him before replying. “I dunno. Just look around I guess. Get our bearings. See what there is to do around here.”

They walked hand-in-hand towards the seafront, then along it in the direction of the pier. They passed the burnt out shell of the West Pier, and Brigit wondered aloud whether it would ever be rebuilt or demolished. Or would the blackened skeleton be left there forevermore, a reminder of what once was.

Soon, they drew close to Brighton Pier. Brigit turned to Allen with a grin.

“What?” he said, then followed her almost manic gaze down the length of the pier, towards a building with fake turret-type things and some very real flags. He sighed. He couldn’t be sure from here, but he thought it was bound to be the amusement arcade. “Oh, you want to go in there, do you? I wonder why?” His voice was laden with sarcasm in his last sentence.

“You know damn well why. Come on!” Brigit tugged him along the last few metres of the pavement and onto the wooden slats of the pier. “Ooh, we can have fish and chips when we come out, if you want.”

Here’s more info and the buy links: https://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/smut-by-the-sea-volume-2/

Gypsy Witch by Suz deMello

Gypsy WitchThe Sacramento Sheriff’s Department is no place for airy-fairy wimps, and Ben McCullough is the toughest of the tough. He tells himself he’s bedding the luscious Elena Lautari only because she’s a babe, not because she’s a card-carrying member of the Northern California Church of Wicca. Ben thinks she’s a feather away from an arrest for fraud, since she makes a living telling fortunes and making charms for the lovelorn. He can’t see her as a lifelong mate even though she’s more than a match for him in the sack, and losing her is unthinkable.

But Elena is the real deal, a modern witch of much power and even more restraint. When her daughter, Gina, steals her mother’s spell book and uses it to shatter the fabric of existence and release an ancient evil, Elena must put reality back in place—even if she loses Ben in the process. Will Ben and Elena’s fragile love be lost with the revelation of her magic?

Maybe, but there are others ready to heal her battered heart. When Ben’s partner attempts to claim Elena, will Ben move aside or move in?

 

If you like what you read, click below to buy the story and check out the rest of Suzie’s sexy books:

https://www.ellorascave.com/author/suz-demello

*****

Suz deMelloAuthor Bio:

Best-selling, award-winning author Suz deMello, a.k.a Sue Swift, has written over sixteen romance novels in several subgenres, including erotica, comedy, historical, paranormal, mystery and suspense, plus a number of short stories and non-fiction articles on writing. A freelance editor, she’s worked for Total-E-Bound, Ai Press, and Liquid Silver Books. She also takes private clients.

Her books have been favorably reviewed in Publishers Weekly, Kirkus and Booklist, won a contest or two, attained the finals of the RITA and hit several bestseller lists.

A former trial attorney, her passion is world travel. She’s left the US over a dozen times, including lengthy stints working overseas. She’s now writing a vampire tale and planning her next trip.

Find her books at http://www.suzdemello.com

For editing services, email her at suzswift@yahoo.com

Befriend her on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/sueswift

She tweets her reading picks @ReadThis4fun

Her current blog is http://www.fearlessfastpacedfiction.com

New Release: Breathe You In By Lily Harlem

I’m delighted to announce a new release from the wonderful Lily Harlem. She’s wonderful as a person and a writer, so you should definitely check out this novel.

Breathe You InBlurb

Sometimes you don’t realize how special a moment is until it’s a memory.

When he held me in his arms I saw a handsome, vibrant man with desire in his eyes and love in his heart. But Ruben Strong was more than that; he was a way out of my darkness, a glimmer of light peeking through my shroud—he was a piece of what I no longer had.

What he didn’t know, but I did, was that he’d been waiting for me. It had taken me time and courage to go looking for him, but if I hadn’t done what I’d done on my bleakest day, he wouldn’t have been there for me to find.

My tumbling decisions led to a meeting that tipped everything I thought I knew about myself upside down. Lying warm and naked in his bed, my old memories became new ones and our souls talked to each other in a way only we could understand. And our bodies, once we were brave enough to hum a quiet tune, quickly produced a beautifully sexy song that threw open the doors to love and laughter in my life once more.

Reader advisory – Breathe You In is a romance with themes of love, loss and hope and contains several explicit sex scenes.

 

Excerpt

My new flat felt alive, as if it were a real home. The sweet, grassy breeze ambled from the living room to the kitchen. The pan on the stove was bubbling away, creating steam that clung to the window. The tangy smell of the onions I’d fried filled my nose, and I could hear the TV, only the news, someone talking, but knowing Ruben was in the living room, that it wouldn’t be empty and soulless when I moved from one room to the other, created a feeling of hope in me—one that made me warm and content for the first time in a long time.

I also felt I knew Ruben better for having seen a glimpse into his old life. Understood how much he’d had to change because of his illness. Maybe he was right. Perhaps he would go back to his old job one day. Return to a wild, hedonistic, fast life of racing and globe trotting and leggy women with perfect bodies. I couldn’t show him my old life, or ever go back to it, but it had been nice to see his.

I flicked the pasta off the boil and stood in the kitchen doorway, one hand on the frame, pushing my hair from my face with the other.

Ruben looked up. Stared at me. He pulled in a deep breath and frowned.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yes, I…”

I didn’t move. “What?”

“It’s just…”

“Tell me?”

He smiled. “You’ll think I’m being stupid.”

“No I won’t.”

“I had a dream last night, it just came back to me, really vivid.”

“What was it about?” I straightened.

“You.”

“Me?” I couldn’t deny the little thrill that word gave me, to think I’d been in this handsome man’s dream.

“You were stood, just like that, in a doorway, holding the side, fiddling with your hair.”

“Whose doorway?”

He silenced the TV. Put the remote on the tall table by the sofa. “Mine. My bedroom.”

“I see.”

He trailed his gaze down my body. Licked his lips.

“And what was I wearing?” I asked. Part of me was desperate to know, the other part afraid to ask. This was a new way for me to be with anyone other than Matt.

“White,” he said. “You were in white.”

“A dress?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Oh, no, white stockings with lace around your thighs. White teeny, tiny knickers and a corset?style top, you know that…” He put his cupped hands on his chest and smiled. “That made you look really pretty here.”

“Sounds like a very detailed dream.”

“It was. It was hot.” He nodded, bit on his bottom lip. “You were hot.”

A tremble started in my stomach and moved lower. Ruben thought I was hot. Hot enough to dream in detail about me. That in itself was like being kissed passionately. It turned my attraction for him to top level; it made me feel like the woman I had been once.

I even remembered a white outfit like that. It was something I’d taken on honeymoon to surprise Matt with one night. I could almost see his face again. His eyes instantly heavy with lust, his lips moist where he’d licked them the moment I’d appeared in the doorway.

Ruben was wearing the same look now, and he shifted on the sofa the same way Matt had shifted on the bed.

Taking a deep breath, I walked toward Ruben, wishing I had that outfit on, and straddled his lap. I dug my knees into the cushions and I rested my hands on his shoulders, let my bum settle on his thighs.

“Tell me more?” I said in what I hoped was a suitably sexy voice.

Ruben swallowed, frowned a little and looked into my eyes. “We were alone, there was only us there. It was warm, you smelled of fruit—papaya, melon, all things sweet.”

I smiled. “This is a very specific dream.”

He touched my cheek with the back of his index finger. “I know, and it’s all flooding back to me like it was a real memory.”

“Maybe we should make it real, one day.”

“I’d like that.” He leaned forward and touched his lips to mine. “You have no idea how gorgeous you are, do you?” he said with a smile.

“I’m not gorgeous, not really.”

He jerked his head. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, the women you must have had, you know, when you and Dean Cudditch were out together, swanning around glamorous places.”

“That was just fun. Messing about, there was never anyone serious. I was too busy traveling the world, being part of the winning team.”

“But weren’t they…?”

“They weren’t you. Katie. Matt must have told you all the time how beautiful you are. I get the impression from you that he was a great bloke, a wonderful husband who made you feel special and treasured.”

I nodded. “He was, he did, but…” I glanced downward, kept that delicate balance of mine on the straight and narrow. “But now, well, I’m a bit thinner than I was and smiles don’t come so easy.”

“I’ve seen you smile plenty since I met you, and each one has gone into my happy memory bank.”

His words made me smile again.

“See, beautiful,” he said.

“Thank you. It’s nice to hear someone say that.”

“It’s nice to have a sexy woman sitting on my lap.” He kissed me, softly, and stroked his fingers through my hair.

I broke the kiss and touched his hair too. I loved the longish strands and the way they flowed through my fingers like fluid silk.

He slid his hands down the column of my neck and reached for the first button on my work blouse. As he undid it, his smile slipped, and his eyebrows hung heavy in concentration.

My heart tripped. My nipples tightened. The dark look in his eyes was so sexy it went straight to my head, like a shot of alcohol.

He undid the next button, and the next, his jaw seeming to get tenser with each twist of his fingers.

I sat absolutely still, the tops of his thighs pressing into the backs of mine. Watching his face, each blink, each slight twitch of his cheek and the way he dampened his lower lip with the tip of his tongue. It was all making me want to grab him for a kiss but equally kept me frozen, fascinated.

When all the buttons were undone, he looked up at my face. It was a silent question.

I glanced out of the window—nothing but treetops.

I nodded.

Carefully, he slid the blouse off my shoulders, revealing my white lacy bra. It had a small daisy in the center of the cups and one at the base of each strap.

“That’s so much better than my dream,” he whispered, his breath like a caress on my chest. “And you are perfect.”

Words danced on my tongue. Words that wanted to explain that I used to be a cup size bigger and filled out my bra better. That maybe I would again one day. But I held them in, swallowed them down. They had no place in this moment with Ruben. Besides, he looked happy with what he saw.

I reached behind myself, unclipped the hook of my bra, let it fall open, but then held it in place with one arm across my chest.

“Katie, if you want to wait…?”

“No, this is fine. More than fine, I want this.” I let the straps slide off my arms and tossed the bra to the floor. “It feels right with you.”

And it did. I’d worried that I’d feel like an adulterous woman being with another man. But with Ruben, well, it was different. Matt was part of it. Part of Ruben. Part of us.

Ruben collected the slight weight of the undersides of my breasts in his hands. Watching his own movements, he parted his lips and his features softened.

His touch was electric and sent a plethora of forgotten sensations blasting through my chest, spiking my nipples and making my flesh feel heavy and engorged.

I pressed into him, just a little, needing more but not wanting to appear greedy. Fearing if I did that, I’d push myself into a wall and cause the bubble to shatter.

He rubbed his thumbs over my nipples. They were tiny stalks, erect and tight. I stuttered in a breath, the stimulation arousing and wonderful.

He glanced up at me. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. “Yes, I like you touching me.”

“I like touching you.” The left side of his mouth rose into a languid half grin.

He moved his right hand to the center of my back. Held me firm as he leaned forward and took my left nipple into his mouth.

I gasped and ran my hands into his hair, held him close and arched my spine. Damn, it had been so long since I’d enjoyed this feeling. It was heavenly. Releasing a breath, I watched as the huff of air from my lungs shifted the hair on the top of his head. He moved to the other breast, feeding my nipple into his mouth and tweaking it with his tongue. He massaged and gently squeezed the now damp breast he’d just given attention to.

A type of fever was growing in me. But it was fever of the good kind. Between my legs felt heavy, needy. I had the urge to move just a fraction farther forward in Ruben’s lap and see if the erection I suspected was there was as hard as it had been yesterday.

I stayed still.

Ruben kissed up my sternum, my neck, and found my mouth. He was still fondling my right breast as he kissed me, wetly, hungrily and with a little less control than yesterday.

Running my hand down his chest and over his belly, I found his groin. The folds of denim could do nothing to hide the swell of his hard cock. I itched to hold it, release it. Learn the shape and weight of him the way he’d just done to me. I popped the top button, but as I did so, he grabbed my wrist, pulled back from our kiss.

“Katie,” he said slightly breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” I stilled.

He looked away.

“We can be ourselves together,” I said gently. “Tell me.”

“I like that.” He gently pinched my chin with his fingers and thumb.

“What?”

“That there is a ‘we’. Us together.”

“Me too.” I grazed my lips over his. “So tell me.”

He nodded and released my wrist. “It’s just, well, I want you to do whatever it is you want to do, but…”?He shut his eyes, as though frustrated with himself.

“But what?”

“But, well, I won’t deny it, I’m a bit anxious, you know, about doing this, with this.” He placed his hand on his chest.

“With your new heart?”

He nodded.

I took hold of the bottom of his t-shirt and peeled it up and over his head, threw it down by my bra. “This heart,” I said, placing a kiss over his scar, “is a good, strong heart that can handle me just fine.”

“I’m sure it will be okay it’s just…”

“You want to take it slow?” I shrugged. “I want to take it slow too. We don’t have to go all the way, not if it’s too soon. We can have some other fun.”

“God, you must think I’m a wimp.” A flash of wounded pride crossed his face.

“There’s nothing wimpy about that package you’ve got in your pants, mister. It’s feeling like a whole lot of hot, hard man to me.”

He laughed. “You always say the right thing, you know that?”

I smiled and pressed my palm over his cock, squeezed through the denim.

His face fell serious. “That feels good. Your hand on me.”

“I can make it feel even better, if you want me to.”

He paused, then nodded. “Yes. That’s what I want.”

I wriggled and slipped between his legs, so mine were folded on the floor and my shoulders were between his thighs. I began to undo the buttons on his jeans.

Lily Harlem Bio

Lily Harlem is a multi-published, award-winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She lives in the UK with her husband and a bunch of animals, all rescued, and loves to spend her days immersed in imagination.

Her books are a mixture of full-length novels and short stories, some are one offs, some are sequels or part of a series (all can be enjoyed as stand-alone reads). What they each have in common are colorful characters travelling on everyone’s favorite journey — falling in love. If the story isn’t deliciously romantic and down and dirty sexy, it won’t be written, at least not by Lily. So with the bedroom door left well and truly open you are warned to hang on for a steamy, sensual ride – or rides as the case might be!

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Sweetest Salvation by Kacey Hammell

I’m giving away some swag – lots of it. If you’d like the chance to win some, please leave your answer (question below in a moment *g*), and your EMAIL address so I can contact you without delay.

Now, how to enter…

Answer this question (answer in either the blurb or excerpt) — What is Andy’s late husband’s name? — and you’ll be entered to win.  Winner will be announced on April 20th by 5pm EST.

Sweetest SalvationAfter the deaths of her husband and child, tragedies that she blames herself for, Andrea “Andy” Sheaver has shut herself off from the world. The only place she finds any relief from her shattered heart is Club Splendor, where she and her husband often frequented together.  There, Andy submits to pleasure and pain in situations so her grief is forgotten for a little while.

But Hunter Sullivan won’t stand idly by and watch Andy self-destruct. A friend of her husband, and the owner of Club Splendor, Hunter has kept his love for Andy hidden for years. He refuses to think of her at the club, cold and detached as she’s become, looking for an easy fix to take away the pain in her heart.  Hunter wants her to vibrant in life again and sets out to prove he is exactly who she needs.

Excerpt © Kacey Hammell, 2013

Hunter sighed, which caught Andy’s attention. Her eyes met his briefly before lowering to her hands, which were clenched tight in her lap.

“Look, Andy,” he began.

“What do you want, Hunter?” Her forest-green-eyed gaze met his. Anger swirled in their depths.

“I’m tired of this. Dammit.” He snarled, rising, and crossed to the fireplace. He ran his fingers through his hair and leaned one arm on the mantel. He looked over at her, stomach churning with indigestion and pain. He’d loved Patrick and Peter too. Could she not understand that she wasn’t the only one suffering?

“Tired of what? I never asked you here.”

“This!” Hunter spread his arms wide. “You. I’m so tired of seeing you locked away in this house, never leaving and pictures gone.”

“Go to hell,” Andy spat and leapt to her feet. She moved behind the loveseat, obvious fury making her hands shake as she laid them on the back of it. “You don’t have any say in how I live. I never asked for your opinion. If you don’t like it, get the hell out of my house. And my life!”

Hunter breathed deep, nostrils flaring. He could no more walk away from her than he could from the Sheavers. She was as much a part of his life, and his heart, as they were.

But his love for her went far beyond sisterly.

He pushed that thought away, buried it deep within himself as he’d done for years. She was Patrick’s girl, his wife. He always honored that.

“Dammit, I don’t want to argue with you, Andy. But you really need to move on. Live life again and leave this house.”

“I leave the house. You don’t know what I do every day.”

“Oh yes, you go out. Like the other night? Why did you go to the club? I thought we agreed you were no longer a member,” Hunter demanded, curious about her answer.

“No. You decided I was no longer a member. Not me. I never said I wanted that. Who are you to make decisions for me?” Andy retorted, cheeks flushed, hands on her hips.

Hunter had to admit he was finally seeing a glimpse of the fiery, strong woman she’d been until this last year. He liked her eyes ablaze, jaw clenched and fury radiating off her body. He just needed to provoke her enough and challenge her to move beyond these walls and back to the things she loved to do.

“I don’t want to make decisions for you.” He took a calming breath. “Listen, the club is not the place for you any longer. Without Patrick… There’s no need for you to be there anymore.”

“Why do you think that?”

“He was the one who wanted to show it to you. He never really thought you’d come to enjoy it as much as you did. Neither of you interacted with others. What can you find there now without him?”

Andy smiled, cold and detached. He hated that smirk.

“Oh, come now. You know what happens in your club. Surely, I don’t have to spell it out for you.”

Goddamn her.

Yes, he knew what she’d done inside the room she’d once used with Patrick. Though he normally didn’t interfere in his members’ activities unless there was a problem, he did ask Paige and Nolan if Andy had simply watched. He’d been shocked, then livid, to learn a few details of what happened between the three of them.

Andy had always been a devoted wife to Patrick, faithful to the core. To know she’d been an active participant at the club for the first time had suddenly left him empty and alone.

But he couldn’t allow his feelings on the matter to distract him from pushing her back into life.

He shrugged. “No. You don’t have to spell it out for me. But is that what you truly want and need in your life?  Sex with strangers? Do you need to find comfort in people who don’t care about you?”

Andy glared at him. “That is none of your business.” Her voice rose as she continued. “What I do in my life is for me to decide. I never asked to have you in my life. Don’t expect me to want you there now.”

His heart clenched. Her words were like a punch to the gut.

Yes, he’d sort of come as a package deal when she’d married Patrick. But the Sheavers were the only family he had. And when Peter was born, oh, he’d played the dutiful uncle to the little boy. Though she’d never voiced her frustration at his being in attendance at nearly all family gatherings or taking up some of Patrick’s time once a week for a guys’ night out, he’d understood the stone-faced woman who left the words unsaid.

“I always promised Patrick I’d look after you if he couldn’t.”

“Fuck off, Hunter. Don’t give me that.” Her hands fisted at her sides. “Look, please just go. I don’t need you here. I have things to do.”

He wouldn’t be so easily dismissed.

“Things to do? Like what, plan your next adventure at the club? I don’t think so. Why? Explain to me why you felt the need to go there?”

Arms wide, she yelled, “I wanted to fuck somebody. Is that what you want to hear? That I wanted to have a cock inside me for the first time in almost two years? I wanted to have a man inside, pounding me—brutal and painful. What better place to do that than at the club where I know I’m safe?”

Hunter’s heartbeat accelerated. To know she needed someone that close to her was agonizing. It was a barren and desperate act of someone who had nothing to live for. Or didn’t think she was worth much.

“Why pain? You couldn’t have found satisfaction in that. No pleasure, Andy? You, of all people, found pleasure in that kind of sex? I don’t believe for a moment that you’re now into rough sex,” Hunter said, gruff. His mouth was dry, and confusion made his head hurt. Would he never understand this woman?

Andy crossed her arms over her chest. She looked out the window behind him. Her gaze was unfocused, filled with pain.

“Yes, pain. It’s what I deserve, isn’t it?” Her gaze captured his. Hunter felt his heart crack at her desolate look.

Buy Links:

Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.ca  / Amazon UK /

aRe / Bookstrand /

~~~

Canadian author, Kacey Hammell is a multi-published erotic romance author who writes mainly in the Contemporary Erotic/Romantic Suspense genres.  She is a true romantic at heart.

Where to find Kacey…

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