Auctioned to the Spanish Dom - Doris O'Connor #NewRelease

Thanks so much for having me on your blog today with my newest release, Auctioned to the Spanish Dom. Ever since Master Pedro first popped up in Book One of The Spectrum Auctions, I knew I would have to tell his story and this is it.

Master Pedro is a complicated man, and writing his story brought it with some unexpected surprises. I also fell hopelessly in love with him, and I hope readers will too.  He might be a Sadist, but he’s also a man who falls hard and deep for the right woman—his pequeñita J

Blurb: 

[Ménage and More: Erotic Older Hero Consensual BDSM Ménage a Trois Romance, M/F/M, flogging, paddling, cropping, knife play, sex toys, HEA for M/F]

Peyton King had a simple plan. Sign up for the Spectrum Auctions and finally get the story that will get her the promotion she craves.
It’s just her luck that the person who wins her is Pedro Hernandez. The Spanish Dom has been starring in her erotic dreams ever since they first butted heads in her professional life, and he proves impossible to resist, if downright scary.
The sadist in Pedro is looking forward to teaching the prickly reporter a lesson or two. However, when Peyton turns out to be a masochist her instinctive responses floor the experienced Dom. Maybe it’s just his age catching up with him, but this young reporter gets under his skin like no other sub ever has, and their play smashes through both of their emotional defences in record time.
When their relationship is put to the test, Pedro has to decide if he can trust his pequeñita.
She is a reporter after all…

Buy Link: http://www.bookstrand.com/auctioned-to-the-spanish-dom

STORY EXCERPT

A man could fucking lose himself in those expressive eyes staring up at him. He didn’t read one iota of malice in Peyton’s expression. She didn’t probe, didn’t ask the questions she was without doubt burning to ask. No, she just waited patiently for him to tell her. He had the most curious sensation crawl up the back of his neck, the instinctive knowledge that she would also accept it if he didn’t tell her. A novel experience, for sure. Any woman he’d ever been involved with, even on a casual basis, had eventually been full of questions.

Another reason why he kept his encounters these days confined to the club, and the purely sexual. Life was simpler, if rather lonely that way.

“If you’d rather not tell me, that’s okay. I realize we barely know each other, and this is clearly personal, and I sense perhaps painful, so let’s just forget it.”

She stepped away from him, and he had to smile at the nervous way she pulled on the misshapen neckline of the shirt she wore.

“I’m just gonna clear this table away.” She mumbled the words into the curtain of her hair and started to stack the plates together.

“You were right, you know,” he said, and she froze, empty wineglass in one hand, two stacked plates in the other. “Put those down, pequeña, and let’s take this in the living room.”

He didn’t check to see if she followed. All he knew was that he needed to sit down, and he flung himself into the wide, comfortable leather settee and shut his eyes. Big enough for him to sleep on, if need be, it had seen him do so far too many times lately when he’d stayed up late, watching old movies in an effort to dispel the thoughts churning in his head.

The sofa dipped slightly when Peyton sat down next to him, and then depressed again. He opened his eyes to find her throwing a cushion on the floor. Peyton knelt on it, wrapped her arms around his legs, and rested her chin on his knee.

His dick stiffened automatically at seeing his beautiful sub on her knees by his feet, and the churning in his gut subsided somewhat.

“Very nice, Peyton, but we’re not in a scene right now, so this is not necessary,” he said. Instead of getting up, she tightened her hold on his legs, and nuzzled into his thigh.

“Yes, it is. Indulge me, please, Sir. Besides, I like the way you look at me when I do this.” A faint blush crept in her cheeks, but she held his glance, and he smiled.

“And how do I look at you?” he asked.

That blush of hers deepened, and he straightened slightly so that he could wrap his hand into her hair. A tremble went through her, and the dominant in him lapped up her submission. She was right in one way. Telling her about his fucked-up life so far would be easier when he was in this headspace. The memories hurt less then.

“As though you like what you see, and…” She dropped her gaze and seemed to find his bare feet most interesting. Pedro increased the pull on her hair and tugged her head back up so that she had no choice but to look up at him.

“Tell me.” He dropped his voice and her mouth opened slightly. Eyes wide, and lips trembling, it was the utter trust and submission he read in her beautiful orbs that made that curious sensation at the back of his neck turn into an allover itch. His chest tightened and a rush of pure possessiveness swamped him. This delightful young woman sat at his feet was his, and his alone. Peyton’s nails curled into his legs, and she blinked several times before she answered him.

“It just feels right, Sir. I can’t explain it, and it makes no sense. I just feel it in here.” She brought a hand up to her chest, and he nodded. “I guess I just feel free, which makes no sense at all.”

Pedro released his hold on the silky mass of her hair and petted her head.

“No, it makes perfect sense, pequeña. You’re embracing your submissive side, and that makes me feel very proud of you.”

Her face lit up in a brilliant smile, and he was hard pushed not to just sit there and grin back at her like a besotted fool, but there was no denying the connection they had established in a very short space of time. Pedro had scoffed at Slade and Laura when it had happened to them, though at least they had known each other for years beforehand. Scarlett, too, had been at the butt off his jokes, though, again the whole danger she had been intended to accelerate and clarify feelings. What was his excuse, however?

Turning forty far from home, and without any of his family acknowledging that fact, shouldn’t prove that much of trauma, should it? After all, he was used to it. Then again, Pedro had been unsatisfied with his lot in life for some time. Seeing his friends settled had just crystallized those feeling for him.

He sighed and Peyton’s face fell.

“Sir? What’s wrong?” she asked.

ADULT EXCERPT

“Hmm, very nice, Pedro. She’s getting wetter by the minute waiting for your cock to fill her, but she won’t get that yet, will she?” Callused fingertips traced her jaw, and Peyton jumped at the unmistakable click in her ear, seconds before the buzzing of a vibrator.

Hands from behind her pulled her breasts out of her corset, and she jumped when the vibrations settled on one nipple while strong fingers pulled and kneaded the other one.

Pain followed pleasure as the biting sting of two nipple clamps attacked her sensitive buds simultaneously, and she bit her lip to absorb the pain, as they were tightened to such a degree she whimpered and shook her head. Anything to get away from that overbearing sensation.

“Shhh, take this for me.” Pedro’s soothing voice in her ear meant she pulled a deep breath into her body and pushed the pain away with her exhales.

“Good girl.” Jonas this time, so close that she smelled his minty breath and the heat of his naked torso burned into her skin. When had he taken his clothes off and was he completely naked?

Her imagination went into overdrive, and then the damn clamps on her nipples started to vibrate at the same time that someone held the vibrator against her clit. Shards of painful pleasure stabbed through her breast and settled deep in her clit.

“Oh god, no…yes.” Peyton didn’t know what came out of her mouth as her body hurled toward release at record speed. Dimly aware of something cold dribbling into her ass crack and the sensation of being stretched and filled to the maximum, Peyton desperately tried to stave off her orgasm, only to lose the fight when the plug in her ass started to vibrate too.

Her orgasm bust from her, breathtaking in its intensity, and Jonas laughed.

“Oh, you’ve done it now, baby.”

Sure enough, a hand crashed down on her ass, pushing her headfirst into another release, as the pain meant it could only be Pedro who paddled her behind. Her Sir hit hard, and he didn’t give her a moment’s peace to catch her breath. Neither did those damn vibrations on every one of her erogenous zones, and Peyton sobbed and pleaded to no avail.

“I can’t, please, no more…”

Both men laughed, and there was a moment’s respite, before the onslaught on her senses started again. They must have switched places, because the hits to her abused butt were softer this time, the hand massaging the sting away altogether gentler, while the hands grasping her breasts and pulling on her clamps were far harder.

“You’ll come as many times as we deem it necessary, pequeñita, and once you’re a sobbing, spent mess, we’ll both fuck you until you can’t walk.”

Heat rolled over Peyton’s skin at Pedro’s growled promise or threat, she couldn’t quite make up her mind as the men continued to assault her senses, until pain and pleasure were one and the same, and her body convulsed in one orgasm after the other. Tears ran out from under her blindfold, and Peyton screamed until she was hoarse. Eventually everything stopped, and Peyton went limp in her restraints, surrounded by Pedro’s strong arms.

“That’s my girl. Stay with us now.”

A water bottle was lifted to her lips and she drank eagerly. The cool water soothed her parched throat and she rested her head on the broad shoulder in front of her. Whose it was, she was too far gone to care, floating away in that happy space where her body was just a mass of delicious oversensitive tissues. Light touches were everywhere, keeping her floating and happy, as something cold was placed over her burning ass and the ankle cuffs removed.

Someone supported her from behind, his heavy breaths in her ear the most erotic sound ever, as ropes touched her skin and her pussy clenched in desperate need as those ropes rested either side of her slit.

“She’s so fucking responsive, Pedro.” Jonas’s voice sounded deeper, harsher, and puffs of air skittered across her wet labia as though he was on his knees, and looking his fill of her exposed cunt. That thought brought it with it another gush of her juices, and Jonas groaned against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

“Taste her for me. Tell me how wet she is. I want to hear her scream again.”

Pedro’s strained voice in her ear made her turn her head toward him and he devoured her mouth in a kiss, while Jonas’s first skillful lick against her pussy made her whimper into Pedro’s kiss.

Dear god in heaven, that man knew what to do with his tongue between her legs, and when Pedro broke the kiss and bit down hard on her bottom lip, everything inside Peyton tightened in need.

“Talk to me, Jonas. What does my girl taste like? Tell her how she makes you feel. How hard your cock is now. How much you want to fuck her.”

Pedro’s dirty words, and the utter command and authority behind them had Peyton teeter on the edge of yet another release, while Jonas lapped at her pussy as though he was drowning.

Trembles started in her thighs, and Pedro’s hands dug further into her legs as he held her open and Jonas tightened the ropes further and slid them to the seam of her thighs. More rope followed, wound around her legs and her torso until she was suspended in the air. Even her hair seemed to be caught up in the intricate patterns Jonas created, if the sharp and constant tug on her scalp was any indication.

Hot breaths blew against her slit again, and from far away she heard Jonas’s voice in between licks of his tongue against her sensitive flesh.

“She’s so fucking wet, Pedro, and she tastes divine. Sweet like honey, and she likes it when we tell her that. Her cunt is clenching around my tongue, trying to draw me in. She’s squeezing my fingers and she’s so damn fucking tight, Pedro. Fuck.”

Authors Bio:

Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris... at least that's what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far too small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.

There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. Only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.

She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Writer of sensual, sassy, sexy romances

Stalking Links      
Website Blog Twitter  Facebook Pinterest  Evernight Publishing
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Alien Manhunt 2 - New Release!

Alien Manhunt 2

By Jennifer Denys

MMM/Sci-fi

Approx. 10,000 words (short story for Romance on the Go)

Blurb: Planning to let his mates act out their fantasies, Suva takes them to his home planet of Espoornia and lets submissive Taran chase dominant Greg for a change, with a sneaky scheme to end it all in a marriage ceremony.  But Suva’s plans go awry from the start and one of them is hunted for real. Worried about the one captured being sold or killed, the remaining two have a hard time searching for the other. But then they find themselves in danger, too! Will they escape? Will they ever be free to marry?

Buy links:

Amazon US

Amazon UK

Evernight Publishing

All Romance ebooks

Bookstrand

Cover

Series info

Alien Manhunt 2 is the continuing story of three aliens, Greg – a human – the dominant one in their relationship, Suva an Espoornian – the switch in the threesome, and Taran – a Cinattran – submissive to both of the others.

I liked the characters so much after writing about them for Alien Manhunt 1 (and readers wanted to know ‘What happened next?’) so I decided to write the next stage in their relationship. Like the previous book it is a short story showing an episode in their lives of the characters.

It is intended to finish with Alien Manhunt 3 - that one set on Greg’s planet. Watch this space…

Author bio:

Jennifer Denys is a multi-published author of BDSM novellas, sci-fi stories and romantic comedies with more than one publisher. She is also working on werewolf and historical novels.

An Englishwoman through and through, she lives in a beautiful historical city in England with her pet rabbit who is thoroughly spoiled and is the dominant one in her household...

She posts to her blog three times a week to keep readers up-to-date on forthcoming books and writing in general. Do email Jennifer she would love to hear from fans.

Author website/blog: http://jennifer-denys.blogspot.com/

Excerpts:

“No way am I running around naked.”

The two others also standing in the immense forest looked at Greg in astonishment. He knew he sounded petulant, however, he hadn’t expected Espoornia, the home of his elf-like alien partner, Suva, would be so damn cold. It was nothing like their home on the space station, Orion One, which served as an administration, communications and military point for the various nations that co-habited that area of the galaxy. Even his birth planet of Earth, which he hadn’t visited for some years, was far warmer. Unless you were at the poles of his home world, of course.

He shivered and resisted the urge to cup his cock. “If I run around with no clothes on my dick will go blue. Jeez, it will do more than that—it will freeze and drop off!”

Suva said something in his own language and stormed off, his long yellow coat flowing behind him as his lengthy strides took him back to their car shuttle. A densely covered planet, it was impossible to fly from one place to another so the only transport was land-based. Even taking this vehicle involved a journey of many hours.

Taran, the third in their relationship, a reptilian from the planet Cinattra, gave a quirky smile, his dark eyes twinkling in amusement at Suva’s outburst as Greg glanced in his direction. The alien looked away, as if he didn’t want to repeat the Espoornian’s words.

Greg huffed. “So what did Suva just say? I am guessing he swore at me, or something?”

On the space station, translations were broadcast immediately if anyone spoke anything other than the galactic language. There were no such facilities in the middle of the cold—but stunningly beautiful—forest where the trees rose to impossibly soaring heights. It made Greg dizzy looking up.

Taran laughed and Greg studied him, amazed that the youngest of the trio could go bare-chested in this temperature. He might be presenting his gorgeous red, muscular chest, as was normal in his culture, the scales on the sides of his body showing above the belt, but Taran was from a hot world, which made it even stranger to Greg. At least Taran wore leather boots to match his black, jewel-encrusted skirt and the band around his neck. The latter was a sign of his submission.

The Cinattran nodded. “Yes. It was something about your manhood being too small to drop off, and even if it did he would stuff it up your soft human backside.”

Greg’s face tightened. But he couldn’t stay angry for long, and a chuckle escaped him. “I’ll show him too small one of these days!” Walking over to Taran, he ruffled his partner’s long red hair, tied back in its customary plait, so different from his own closely cropped hair. Greg was the dominant one in the relationship, having picked up both guys at a bar on the space station. Suva could switch between roles, being submissive with him while dominant with Taran, who was submissive to both of them. Their relationship usually worked well.

Except everything had changed.

Or if you want a hotter excerpt:

“Show me what else you do with those talons of yours,” Suva requested in a husky voice as he pulled Taran forward. Cupping the Cinattran’s head, he then gave his young partner a passionate kiss, plunging his tongue inside Taran’s mouth. He so wanted to lay him on the floor and take him then and there, using the yellow rubad plant that he could just see through the trees. The plant had marvelous properties, but that was not in his plans—yet.

Taran took him at his word and wrapped his hand around Suva’s cock through his loose trousers. He did not jerk him, although he gripped it tightly. Suva moved his legs apart to give Taran more room, then raising his head, Suva let his tense neck muscles ease up. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to enjoy the sensation as his little lover gently ran the ends of his claws along Suva’s long, long shaft. The frisson of tiny pinpricks caused him to catch his breath.

The Best Part Of Breaking Up - Alannah Harte #NewRelease #Giveaway

I'm super excited to welcome Alannah Harte with her fab new release, The Best Part of Breaking up. Leave a comment and you could be in with a chance of winning a copy :)

Blurb

Rafe McGraw is a tough rancher who spends his time farming a wild and untamable cattle ranch in the Northern Territory of Australia.

Jenna Davidson is bright, feisty, and not afraid of a little hard work. She's not going to let anyone get in the way of her dream to be a flying vet.

Rafe has cattle to get certified for export by the flying vet during his cattle muster. He is expecting his usual vet to show up but the person getting off the plane is not what he expects.

Jenna has encountered all kinds of farmers and their attitudes since starting her job, but the gorgeous, sulking, arrogant grazer is a definite challenge. If that means flying in a week of living outdoors with a sexy grazer growling at her, then she's up for it.  

Excerpt 

After eight hours, during which they moved more than sixty kilometers over wild terrain to seek out more of the herd, with general consensus from everyone they called it a day. A camp was set up beneath a glen of trees and a campfire lit. The trucks had generators and each cabin had a sleeping berth, but the men preferred to sleep under the stars and they would cook on the fire tonight.

Jenna would have loved to crawl onto a soft mattress herself in one of the truck's sleeping cabins, shut the door on all the alpha men, and get some desperately needed sleep, but that would  just be giving into what they expected of her. She was going to rough it like everyone else.

Rafe handed her a small bag with a grim smile. “Your tent,” he told her unnecessarily. 

She could see it was a tent. It was a two-man dome tent used for hiking, because it was lightweight and easily erected, but certainly not as comfortable as her bed would have been after leaning over fences all day. Jenna's back ached and the bottoms of her feet were tender, having perched on fencing poles all day.

“Get that up and you can have a good rest,” he told her, his face a study of seriousness.

I have to put up my own tent, too? Fine! 

She had put up tents before. She knew he was ascertaining his authority and illustrating his little regard for a woman who couldn't pull her weight like the rest of the men in the caravan.

“Do you think you can manage that?” he asked her.

“I can manage all sorts of things.” Jenna let her voice drawl over the words and she raised an eyebrow at him.

Rafe smiled at the corner of his mouth. “Good, I wouldn't want the boys to have to do extra work.” 

No fear of that. She had done all of the crazy work today and the men had let her. 

With a thump, the pegs and a small hammer dropped out of the bag. Jenna stepped over them and shook out the tent.

How hard could it be? She glared at the various poles that needed to be fed into the canvas to make the frame and took an educated guess at the right one. Within a few moments she had a good representation of a dome in front of her and Jenna pulled it across to a site she liked.

“I wouldn't leave it there.” The grazier's voice carried across the camp, hands on hips. He appeared to be laughing at her.

“Why ever not?” she asked gruffly. 

“You're the vet, Jenna. Surely you recognize anthills when you see them. I suggest you bring your tent closer to the campfire if you want to save yourself from being bitten.” 

Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, Jenna dragged the tent behind her, its light weight helping it to flap in the breeze. She dropped it a few feet from the campfire and on a flat piece of dried earth, clear of all signs of anthills, then she went back to retrieve the pegs and hammer. 

“Let me do that for you,” Grey the drover said. It was the first time he had spoken to her all day and Jenna looked at him with mild suspicion.

“I should really do it myself. I wouldn't want your boss accusing me of not pulling my weight.” 

“You've done more than pull your weight today, missy. I've been watching you. Never mind the boy. He's new at playing the boss and is trying to ascertain his authority.” 

“You're sure about that? I get the distinct impression he doesn't care for me. Or maybe its women in general he doesn't like.” 

Grey barked a laugh that made Rafe stare over at them, his expression dark and unreadable. The drover took the hammer from her hand. It looked like a toy in his large grip. With quick and assured strikes, he pegged the tent into place.

“He likes women enough—don't be mistaking that he doesn't. You would be just his type if he wasn't going around with a chip on his shoulder.”

“Well, that's fascinating, but he's not my type, and I didn't come out here looking for romance and certainly not with someone who had a block on their shoulder either.” Jenna wanted to ask what was Rafe McGraw's problem but she had been brought up to mind her own business when it came to the private lives of others. She wasn't about to start asking the drover impertinent questions about his boss.

“Out here in these wilds it's never about the romance, missy, it’s all about the loving.” Grey's eyes twinkled mischievously and Jenna had the good sense to blush to her roots. “But that is not talk I should be having with a lady such as you.” He continued smiling benignly at her, though she didn't believe he was that innocent at all. 

“I don't think so either,” she scowled.

“Hmm, well, we will see.” Grey returned the hammer to her, and whistling gently, he sauntered off across the camp to his own swag.

See what? She brought her hold all into the tent and rested on her knees for a minute, enjoying the little privacy the tent could afford her against the eyes of all the men outside. A cough sounded at the entrance and alerted her that Rafe was waiting. She pivoted on her knees and pushed the flap of the entrance aside. A floor mat, sleeping bag, and pillow were roughly handed in.

“You'll be needing these,” he told her gruffly.

“Such a host! You think of everything.” She felt silly for betraying her true feelings with the sarcasm dripping in her voice but the man was bringing out the worst in her. 

“Well, seeing as you're the only vet to be had around these parts, I better make sure you can continue the job tomorrow.”

“Ah, so I can do the job now then? What happened to ‘this is no place for a woman’?” She threw back his words tartly.

Rafe knelt and pushed his head through the open flap. Jenna had to lean back into the tent as he crowded the space with his large frame. 

“This is no place for a woman, but here we are and here you are, and I'm putting up with it.” 

He really does have the most gorgeous eyes. The errant thought came into her head and Jenna clenched her fists. She did not find this Neanderthal attractive, she really didn't. Of course she was still aware of him, had been all day as he straddled the top of the cattle race fencing with those trunk-like thighs of his. He had even gotten in between the cows with his broad shoulders when they wouldn't move by themselves. His jeans were ripped at the knees and he wore a black cotton shirt, sleeves rolled up to his biceps, and several buttons left undone, so that the thick column of his neck and the hint of those torso muscles were on show. He was rugged and bad and infuriatingly handsome. He was not going to distract her with it! She was determined about that.

 “You have got to be the most gracious and grateful person that I have ever met,” she said sarcastically, with a pronounced inflection, and smiled serenely back at his scowling face. Rafe's eyes narrowed dangerously and his lip curled in distaste, but instead of withdrawing as she hoped, he crawled into the tent forcing her against the back canvas. She sat down on her bottom with a bump.

“You managed fine today, Miss Davidson, but we'll see how you do tomorrow. How are your feet?” He took a booted foot in his hand, startling her as he rested it in the cradle of his thighs and began to unlace them from around her ankle.

“They are fine,” she lied, attempting to pull her foot back, but his grip was firm and unyielding.

“You're a terrible liar, you know that?” With gentleness that she had not expected, Rafe eased the heavy steel-capped boot from her foot. “Not only have I noticed you limping slightly since you came down off the cattle race,” he continued conversationally, “but you’re also taking pleasure from this foot massage.” He manipulated her foot between his two palms, and despite her best intentions Jenna sighed in relief.

Jenna's eyes widened in horror. “I am doing no such thing!” This time she did remove her foot from his grasp and pulled it beneath her bottom.

Rafe shrugged a shoulder, “Be a martyr then. Your feet won't thank you for it. I am an excellent foot masseuse.” 

“I'm sure you say that to all the girls.” 

“You know me so well.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her suggestively.

I don't know you at all. The unspoken words hung between them. For a moment they simply stared at one another. Jenna raked her mind for something sensible and straightforward to say but her brain and her body were not in a generous mood. Most of her wit and sensibility was lost in her sated foot. 

Rafe seemed to have none of those problems, much to her annoyance. He crawled backward out of the tent. 

“There is supper and coffee up for grabs. Come when you're ready, but I wouldn't leave it too long—those boys are ravenous and won't leave leftovers.” She heard him whistling for his dog as he walked away, but he was whistling as if mocking her.

Buy Links: Evernight Publishing, Amazon, All Romance

The Perfect Shoot - Lea Bronsen - New Release!!

The Perfect Shoot (Hot Model Mine 1) by Lea Bronsen

Thank you so much for having me on your blog!

Who hasn’t been infatuated with a sexy poster boy – actor, pop star, or football hero – even though he was unobtainable? The heroine in my Hot Model Mine series is a thriving author and hard-working mother nearing her forties. Tough, independent, and having long ago lost faith in love, she dismisses her crush on the cover model of her book to protect herself. What then can she do when that gorgeous young man surprisingly falls for her, too?

I hope you enjoy this tale of ‘impossible’ love, dead-honest and written with my heart.

BLURB:

When Andrea Johnson, writing as author Cindy Vega, signed up for a Meet & Greet with the cover model of her latest book, she didn’t expect sparks to fly. Yushka is dangerously good-looking and too young for her. But their connection is instantaneous, and during a photo shoot with the two, the photographer picks up on their growing attraction. Seeing the potential for the cover photo of the century, he decides to push their comfort limits...

EXCERPT:

An assistant calls Yushka’s name. Bare-chested, the Asian hunk appears from a group of models, strolls to the spotlights, and waits in front of the camera with the confident stance of a professional.

The whole place quiets as if in awe. He’s unbelievably beautiful with his tanned, bulging muscles and washboard-abs-to-die-for. When photographer Lemaître asks him to undo his hair, a black waterfall lands on his shoulders and down his back. A few muffled feminine squeals fill the silence.

One by one, authors whose books he appears on get a few pictures taken with him in flattering positions, wrapping their arms around his back or swallowed up in his embrace, beaming like schoolgirls at their first prom.

Jealousy rips through me so violently I can barely breathe, but my time is up soon, and I hate that even more. I’m non-photogenic, and seeing pictures of myself makes me sick. I’ve chosen a sexy, black top and matching short skirt for the occasion, but looking my best doesn’t help. My stomach ties in a knot.

“Cindy Vega,” an assistant calls.

Fuck, that’s me. I’m dead.

“Go,” Laurie says, giving me a small push.

All muscles tense, I leave my safe corner and join Yushka. He greets me with a placid face, but from the warmth in his pupils, I get a feeling he’s glad to see me. Side by side, narrowing our eyes from the piercing light, we face Lemaître and wait for orders.

Damn. Being so near Yushka’s naked torso is unbearable, as is the heat from the lamps shining on us. Sweat beads roll down the sides of my chest, between my breasts. He endures, too. A thin film of sweat coats his golden skin, making it glow, but he doesn’t seem bothered.

Lemaître clears his throat. “Bon. Stand a little closer. Cindy, this is for Eden Luna Publishing’s website. Officially, we want authors happily meeting their cover models, but off the record, we want sensual, we want heat. Readers will get off seeing your pictures like they do reading your books.”

Stiff as a rod, I nod agreement. I’d half expected this. Problem is, I hate being in the spotlight with so many people watching, and I hate the notion of having my photo all over the internet.

“Sooo,” he continues, “I will ask you to just stand like this, facing me, and smile. That is all. Yushka knows what he has to do.”

“Okay.”

Turning to my side, Yushka puts a hot hand on my stomach and the other on the small of my back. Though light, his touches destabilize me, as does the warm, musky scent sneaking to my nostrils.

“Closer,” Lemaître orders. “Bodily contact.”

Shit, I’m fucked.

The stud radiates heat as he approaches, sweaty chest sticking to my arm, heart beating against my skin. His crotch barely brushes my hip, but each pore in my body becomes acutely aware of him, on high alert. As last night’s intense arousal replays in all of me, my inner thighs clench with renewed want.

Whispers and low chuckles sound from both sides of the vast lobby. I try to forget the hundred eyes following my every move, but can’t help being distracted, bathed in full light and painfully self-conscious.

“That is better.” Like a shooting gun, Lemaître’s camera clicks and the flash blinds me repetitively. “Now, give him a smile, Cindy. You know the kind I want.”

My throat so dry I can’t speak, I turn to Yushka.

He’s very near, inches from my face, black pupils gleaming with mischief. Sweat pearls on his face, making him look sexier than ever. Long, black hairs glue to his forehead and cheeks. He smells of soap, his close shave making him look baby-faced.

Seemingly at ease, the heaving of his chest regular, he stares into my eyes. I can’t believe his confidence. Modelling is his profession, but how does he stay so fucking calm?

“You wanna give me a smile?” he whispers, warm breaths brushing my chin. Behind me, his large hand sneaks lower and palms my butt cheek. With that and his other fingers splaying on my stomach, he pulls me to him, making me feel the entire length and…hardness…of his cock on my hip.

I suck in a breath.

His lips curl up in a self-satisfied grin. “Hm, Andrea? You wanna give me a smile?”

Oh my fucking God. I can’t help but obey while my insides go up in flames.

Flashing his teeth, he kneads my ass with a strong hand and pushes his full erection against me. He knows what he’s doing, the devil. He knows slowly rubbing me with his cock turns my pussy to burning liquid.

Somewhere, a feminine gasp breaks the silence, followed by contained laughter.

“Très bien, we have a smile,” Lemaître says, camera clicking, flash shooting. “Thank you, Cindy, that will be enough. Next!”

Still grinning and holding my look, Yushka slowly backs off, leaving chillier air between us.

I’m frozen. In shock, lust, need.

“Come on, move it!” Lemaître calls. “We don’t have all day.” 

No shit.

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ABOUT LEA BRONSEN:

I like my reads fast, hot, and edgy, and strive to give my own stories the same intensity. After venturing into dirty inner-city crime drama with my debut novel Wild Hearted, I divide my writing time between psychological thriller, erotic contemporary romance, and dripping erotica.

I love to hear from my readers! Send a mail to leabronsen@yahoo.com or meet me on:

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