Seduced in Sand Page 8
“I am leaving. Only call if there is a dire emergency you can’t handle.”
“But...”
Tabatha wasn’t good at relinquishing control, but Sheree had more than proven herself capable. Trusting Sheree made indulging in fun easier. “The full commission is yours if you handle everything without calling me, which I think you can do without a problem.”
Sheree’s eyes bulged and her mouth gaped. “Seriously, who’s that guy? This isn’t like you.”
“He’s my husband.” And she was going to borrow a page from his old playbook. She was going to play hookie from responsibility.
“What?” Sheree shrieked.
“Answers later.” Tabatha placed her hands on Sheree’s shoulders and turned her toward the tent. “Work now.”
Ready for some fun, and major catching up, Tabatha jogged back to Danny, grabbed his hand and headed for his car. Every ounce of negativity that used to fill their time together disappeared and in its place was peace and happiness deeper reaching than previously experienced.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“Anywhere you want, though, I’d prefer a bed this time.”
Confusion clouded his gaze as he opened the passenger door for her. He wasn’t arguing though. “You’re skipping work?”
“If we’re going to make this work, I need to meet you half way.” When he was in the car beside her, she leaned over and kissed him again. “I love you, Danny. I never stopped loving you.”
“We’re going to my place. It’s closer.” He framed her face in his hands and sighed. “I love you too.”
Chapter Eight
Danny drove home as quickly as safely possible. He’d pleased some Karma God somewhere because he caught every green light and only got stuck behind one pokey driver. The drive took seven minutes instead of the normal twelve, but those seven minutes spanned into endlessness every time he glanced at Tabatha.
They didn’t speak or touch, but judging by the way she shifted in the seat, her anxiety was ramping up as badly as his. She leaned forward at every light they approached as if she was begging it to be green, and drummed her fingers on her knees. In his driveway, waiting for the garage door to raise took an interminably long time. He’d pushed the button to put it back down before he turned off the car and they were out the doors.
“You bought a house?”
“Rented. It felt more permanent than an apartment, but not too big a decision to make without you.”
“You just keep getting better.”
They made it as far as the hood of the car before they had their hands on each other. Like no time had passed they moved with perfect synchronization as they removed clothes and tossed them into a pile on the concrete. Panting heavily, Tabatha slid her gaze and hands down Danny’s torso, ending with his arousal in the palm of her hand.
It was suitable, since she held the rest of him as easily.
“I don’t mean to rush things,” he said with a gravelly scrape to his voice.
She guided him closer while she moved to the hood. “Sometimes there’s nothing wrong with going fast.”
He pulled away long enough to grab his t-shirt to lay on the hood behind her and then eased her down. They’d done the quickie in the car thing already. Now she’d skipped work, giving him all the time he could need to go slow. He’d dreamed of spending hours making love to her. All he wanted, more than he wanted oxygen, was to devour her.
Reading him perfectly, she lifted her feet to the bumper and rubbed herself against him. He took the signal and eased into the wet haven awaiting him. She bucked, setting the pace instantly.
Quick or not, he wanted the connection he’d visualized for a year. Leaning over her, he linked his fingers with hers and held her hands over her head. “I love you, Tabatha.”
“I love you, too.”
“You’re never going to doubt me again.”
“Good, cuz life sucks without you.”
Smiling the wide smile of victory he’d felt so often since moving to Miami, especially since seeing Tabatha again, Danny did exactly what he’d wanted. He devoured his wife, meeting her demand for a fast pace, until they were both tense and sweaty from the mounting orgasm.
He held himself back, barely, until she gave in. When she did, he pulled her against him and held her head to his heart until the rush subsided.
Only then, when the first madness of hunger had passed, did he lead her into the house. He stopped in the kitchen long enough to grab a couple of drinks for them, but then he continued straight to the bedroom where he intended to keep her all day.
“What turned the tides in my favor?” He asked as he tossed the covers on the bed back.
“A lot of little things, but ultimately it was the lights.” She traced a finger along his spine, making him arch his back and sigh. “I love that you cared enough to drag your friends away from practice to help me.”
“Not having your love made me desperate.” He turned and took her into his arms. “I meant what I said. You’ll never doubt me again. I hope you can trust that.”
“I do.”
“Will you marry me again?”
“I will.” She rose up and kissed the corner of his lips. “And I’ll try to be better at indulging your need for fun.”
“Between the runway quickie and the garage a few minutes ago, you’re off to a damn good start.”
“There are so many more ways we’re going to have fun.”
They were laughing as they fell onto the mattress together.
He’d moved to Miami with one primary goal: win back Tabatha. Victory was so much sweeter than he’d imagined.
He was still laughing an hour later when she returned from the garage with her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Tweeting.” Grinning wildly she turned the phone to show him.
Romeo, Romeo, our parting was no sweet sorrow. #welcomeback #Ilovethisman
About the Author
Heart-stopping chaos, triple-tongue fluting, vocal practices of Diva proportions, boy crushes and girl drama are all in a day’s work for Nikki Duncan. This athletic equestrian turned reluctant homemaker turned daring author is drawn to the siren song of a fresh storyline.
Nikki plots character mayhem over breakfast, scandalous exposés at lunch and the sensual turn of phrase after dinner. Nevertheless, it is the pleasurable excitement and anticipation of unraveling a character’s motivation that drives her to write long past the witching hour.
The only anxiety and apprehension haunting this author comes from pondering the outcome of her latest twist.
Nikki loves to hear from her readers. She can be found at all the predictable online places.
Twitter @NDuncanWriter and @TulleTulips
Facebook /NDuncanWriter
Pinterest /NDuncanWriter and /TulleTulips
Website www.nikkiduncan.com and www.tulleandtulipsweddings.com
Look for these titles by Nikki Duncan
Now Available:
Sensory Ops
Sounds to Die By
Scent of Persuasion
Illicit Intuitions
A Killing Touch
Taste Me Deadly
Cyber Illusions
Tulle and Tulips
Tangled in Tulle
Twisted in Tulips
Handcuffed in Housewares
Debauched in Diamonds
Whispering Cove
Wicked
Burned
Serenades
Fiery
Her Miracle Man
Coming Soon:
Controlled Burn
Under the knife, under the gun…and under no illusion he’ll sacrifice everything for her.
Taste Me Deadly
© 2014 Nikki Duncan
> Sensory Ops, Book 5
After five years in Witness Protection, Greycen Craig’s life of careful routine is upended when she learns her sister is the victim in a hit and run, hospitalized, unconscious, and needing a kidney only Grey can give.
Despite warnings that this “accident” is a ruse to draw her out into the open, Grey risks everything to race back to Miami—where she comes face to face with the one man she aches to trust.
FBI agent Liam Burgess thinks he’s prepared for the moment Grey walks into her sister’s hospital room. But the moment the woman who holds his heart appears, his tongue is almost too tied to remember to ask one burning question—why she disappeared in Las Vegas two years ago.
As Grey struggles with what to tell him—everything or nothing—the danger that drove her underground resurfaces, threatening everyone she loves. And the only safe place to run is the arms of the one man she can’t tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.
Warning: This title contains a hero who knows who he wants and isn’t afraid to fight for her and a heroine with secrets she fears hold the power to unravel all their dreams.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Taste Me Deadly:
“No. I’m not joining your merry little band of whatever you all are.”
“Sweetheart.” He stopped at the first door in the upstairs foyer and pressed a kiss to her temple. “You’re already a member.”
“Liam, I hope you’re not expecting this thing between us to last.”
“I have just as much reason to think it will work out as you do to think it won’t.”
“I don’t even know how to respond to that.”
“Then don’t try.” He leaned around her and opened the door they stood beside. His arm brushed her breast and set tingles racing through her. She lifted a hand, set it on the back of his forearm.
His jacket felt creamy against her fingers. He angled his head, met her gaze.
So many things needed to be said, discussed. She owed him an explanation. He deserved to know why she’d left, to know it had nothing to do with him. The trouble was that she’d leave again when Ruby was safe, so anything she said would be little more than empty platitudes.
“Liam.”
“Grey.”
They spoke at the same moment and they both sounded out of breath. Screw explanations. If burning in Miami’s fiery pits of despair rested in her near future she may as well enjoy the trip.
Curling her fingers into the back of his arm she leaned into him. Slow and dreamlike, Liam eased forward. Grey pushed up to her toes and touched her lips to his. It was a tentative touch and she kept her eyes open, locked on his, not that the thoughts behind the brown shields to his soul were readable.
Retreating, she swept her tongue across her lips. Liam placed a hand on her stomach and pulled at her shirt. He made no move to untuck it, yet each tug pulled on the yearning to belong that breathed inside her. Then she grabbed his jacket and began to pluck at the fabric.
“This is wrong,” Grey whispered, more for her benefit than his, a way to remind herself how things would end. She didn’t belong in his world that was resplendent in perfection. She didn’t know how to be the kind of person he surrounded himself with, openly supportive and instantly loving. She was more comfortable in her one-bedroom apartment filled with mismatched furniture that could only be called shabby chic in a dream. Differences aside, she had no desire to be involved with someone tangled up in the law. Either side.
“Seems right to me.” He breathed a kiss across her lips again. Nothing more than a rush of warmth backed by the lightest caress of softness, the kiss sent her rationalizations scurrying for cover.
“Things are complicated.”
“Easy is boring.” He kissed her again.
Her knees trembled. Her other hand drifted up and grabbed the front of his jacket. “Boring is safe.”
“Safety and excitement can dance on occasion.” His next caress was a nibble kiss at her jaw, just in front of her ear.
She licked her lips and tightened her hold on his jacket. He unraveled her restraints. “What kind of dance?”
“The oldest kind.” Demonstrating, he gathered her close and began to move. They stood in a large foyer at the top of the stairs with no music playing and he was luring her into a dance.
Then she heard it. Music, deep and throbbing like a heavy heartbeat. The stunning strains of sweeping notes played in each touch. His palm at her hip. A finger at her throat’s pulse.
Her blood hummed. Desire swelled.
Applying almost no pressure, he moved her hips forward and back, wrapping her in warmth and comfort and arousal. Grey rested her temple against his jaw and craved the strength to allow herself to be carried away.
Complications underscored Liam’s efforts to simplify the moment. Grey just didn’t know how to accept the simplicity.
“I can’t.” Lifting her head she forced clarity into her mind. The fog of fantasy lingered, though.
Liam surprised her when instead of arguing or ignoring her, like he did every time she insisted his help wasn’t needed, he set her down. She wasn’t sure when he’d picked her up but the instant his hands released her she missed them.
“Do you promise not to run away in the middle of the night?”
“Are you really that worried about my safety?” The idea of him caring enough to worry was novel, which was nothing more than a dream she couldn’t entertain.
“Yes, but let’s not pretend you haven’t mastered your disappearance act.”
Guilt, an emotion she’d once thought she squashed, showed its traitorous head, which it seemed to be doing a lot lately. It had been bad with Ruby, yet standing in Liam’s home it mixed with regret and overflowed.
“My promise probably means nothing to you, but I will not leave in the middle of the night.”
“Good.” He leaned in and kissed her again. This time it was almost chaste, as if he was simply saying “good night, sleep tight”, but as she breathed easy he tugged her bottom lip between his teeth, swiped his tongue over the puffy spot she’d made bleed earlier with chewing nerves, and then pulled back.
He pointed to the end of the hall. “I’m just around the corner if you need me.”
Her knees shook as she watched him walk away. She’d been so certain he would seduce her into his bed. The weekend in Vegas had been the first and last time in five years she’d slept dream free and the prospect of repeating the pleasure was stark.
He was rounding the corner when she called out. “Liam.”
When it comes to hand-to-heart combat, no hold is barred.
Two in the Afternoon
© 2014 Cora Cade
A Day of Pleasure, Book 2
Molly Ryan survived one attack, and she’s not about to be a sitting duck for another. With her attacker harassing her from his jail cell, she packs up her life in Chicago, follows her Delta Force brother to North Carolina and gets work in a pub.
Men in uniform are definitely off her menu, but her boss’s friend, Army Ranger Callum Eversman, is one hot hunk she’d like to sample.
Home on a two-week furlough, Cal has agreed to watch over Molly as a favor to fellow Ranger Noah Harper. Accomplishing his mission without her noticing? That’s going to be tough, as any idiot can see their sparks of attraction from a mile away.
Despite her hands-off-military-men policy, Molly is tempted to indulge, just this once, in a no-strings-attached fling. No dating, no kissy face, no hearts involved. But when her past threatens her future, there’s only one man to turn to. The one who’ll risk everything—body, heart, and soul—to protect her.
Warning: Contains an Army Ranger with a gruff exterior and heart of gold, a heroine with a sassy attitude, and some hot borderline-public sex.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Two in the Afternoon:
r /> Callum Eversman kissed like a man on fire. His lips seared a path to every erogenous zone on her body, particularly straight to her panties. He cradled her face gently, reverently, as he nipped at her bottom lip, drawing her taste within his mouth.
She was gripping his forearms when he suddenly pulled away. Taking in her dazed expression, he let his gaze fall to her lips before dropping his hands from her face.
For a brief moment, Molly thought that was the end of their scorching interlude. It certainly wasn’t enough to satisfy her needs, but she wasn’t going to throw herself at Callum. No matter how ridiculously hot the man was.
Instead of backing away from her, as she expected, he dropped his massive hands to cradle her ass and lifted her from her feet. Pressed against his bare chest, with his hands cupping her, she felt the impressive ridge of his erection slide along her belly when he raised her up. The distance to the couch was only a few feet, and he made short work of it, perching her ass on the back of it and fiercely taking her mouth again.
This kiss was hot, an exploration into how wet and ready this man could get her in thirty seconds or less. This kiss was demanding, ordering Molly to surrender and cling to Callum.
A hand gently tugged her head back, bringing her into a position that deepened their kiss. Bringing her closer to complete and total submission.
Instead of allowing Callum to run the show, she took charge the only way she could. Curling a hand around his straining erection, she felt the tension in his body through the soft cotton of his boxers. As she gripped him, barely getting her fingers around his girth, he let a low growl escape from the back of his throat.
Controlling him with her touch was intoxicating. His movements had stilled and he stood before her, hot and heavy under her fingers, poised on the edge of release. Every muscle and tendon was pulled tight. His face was raised to the ceiling, eyes tightly closed as he absorbed her touch.
“Callum.” She said his name quietly, softly, as she kissed his rock-hard abdomen. His muscles contracting under her lips brought another heady rush of excitement.