Kristi Cross has had the hots for her friend, Cameron Jackson as long as she can remember, but she knows she’s not his type. She’s nothing like the women he dates. So when he suggests they play for a kiss over a game of Hearts, Kristi can’t resist. Even if she loses, she wins. Because she’s finally going to taste him.
Of course, one kiss can quickly become something altogether steamier, especially when both parties are on the rebound…
Fall in Love on Tryst Island… When a group of friends share a vacation house, wild hijinks, unexpected hook-ups and steamy sex ensue.
He tossed out a card.
She wrinkled her nose—damn, she was cute when she wrinkled her nose. “Really, Cam?”
“That’s your lead? The queen of spades?”
“Are you trying to shoot the moon? Because I already took a point.”
“Just play.” She shook her head and underplayed the queen. He ate a whopping thirteen points. And then he led with the jack of diamonds. She took it with her ace and then went on to win the hand.
He really wasn’t paying attention. He was busy planning his assault. If he lost the game, he got to kiss her. And he wanted to kiss her. In fact, the desire, the need to orchestrate the entire clinch bubbled deep in his gut.
He dealt again, trying not to glance at the clock. This should be the last hand if he played his cards right. Or wrong, as the case may be.
And yes. She won. Easily. In fact, she spanked him.
Although he didn’t let his mind linger on that image. It was far too distracting.
Instead, he leaped to his feet so quickly his chair toppled over. He ignored it—and her little ‘eep’—and came around the table in a rush to yank her into his arms and…yes! Yes. The feel of her, molded against him, was delicious. He’d known it would be.
The scent of her shampoo, or her perfume, or just Kristi, enticed him. He drew it in, savoring the moment, the knife’s edge of intense anticipation.
“You won,” he murmured, gazing down into her wide hazel eyes. “Now I have to kiss you.”
Her lashes fluttered. Her lips pursed. She wiggled a little against him and his cock stirred. “You have to? Well, isn’t that just—”
She didn’t finish. Whatever she’d been about to say never made it out of her mouth because he took her then. He dipped his head and settled his lips over hers and ate the words, consumed them. A thrill shot through his solar plexus at the contact. Warm, supple, sweet. Fragrant.
He surprised her by diving in like that. She went a little stiff, but it didn’t take long for her to relax and respond.
And hell. Did she respond. Did she ever.
The kiss, which he’d intended to be slow and provocative, quickly raged into something else altogether. And when she uttered a throaty moan and her tongue peeped out to touch his, he nearly lost his mind.
He changed the angle of his head and deepened the kiss, holding her in place with one hand to her chin. The other roved.
God, she was amazing. He drew his palm over the flare of her hips. It dipped in at her waist and then rose up her ribcage. He nearly passed out when he skimmed the underside of her breast. Nearly passed out because all the blood in his brain shot straight to his cock. His whole body thrummed with every beat of his heart.
He cupped her and she made another charming little noise. When he scraped a thumb over her nipple, she whimpered.
He longed to suck it. Draw it into his mouth and nibble and nip. Make her thrash.
He lifted her up onto the table and when she started to protest, he shifted his attention to her neck, nuzzling her there, right behind her earlobe. She gasped and garbled a word that might have been “more” and dug her nails into his shoulders.
He loved that as he drew her higher, teased her to a fever pitch, her responses became like his—feral.
He’d known she’d be like this in her passion. Wild. Unrestrained. Demanding. He loved it. Fucking loved it…but he wanted, needed, more.
He fumbled with the buttons on her blouse.
His euphoria tumbled into the dark abyss when she stopped him. He pulled back to look at her, although pulling back was the last damned thing he wanted right now. Fortunately, a tiny chunk of his brain was still functioning. It reminded him he’d been raised to be a gentleman.
He could go for the jugular again. He could renew his attack on the sensitive spot he’d found, the one at the base of her neck that made her warble and squirm and arch into his cock with a mind-bending pressure. He could make her forget whatever stupid objection she was about to present.
But he wanted more than a mindless fuck with Kristi.
He wanted a lot more.
“What is it?” he asked. And damn, his voice was rough. He barely got the words out.
“You–you said one kiss.”
“I wasn’t done yet.”
A Scorching Obsession, A Desperate Hope
Dylan Deveney has no interest in a wild fling. He simply wants a quiet place where he can try to forget a painful past and, barring that, drink himself to death. But when he catches a glimpse of his exquisite neighbor--in the buff--his passion for life reignites.
Cassie French can't resist Dylan's allure. From his scruffy beard to his earring to his intriguing dragonfly tattoo, she's crazy about him. And sex between them is scorching. It all seems perfect...until a tragedy from Dylan's past threatens to ruin everything.
Yeah. He was hard again, already, but this would be a slow, sweet fuck. He would make her howl and beg and thrash before he took her. Before he buried himself in her.
He eased her onto the bed and kissed his way down her neck and over her collarbone.
He loved a beautifully shaped collarbone. Hers was fine and exquisitely arched. He lapped at the little hollows, sucking and nipping as he nimbly unbuttoned her blouse. It spoke to her elegance and style, that blouse, but damn, it had a lot of buttons.
When he finished the interminable row, he spread the lapels and gazed down at Cassie, well, at her breasts, encased in a lacy bra. His breath hitched. His pulse throbbed. Reverently he cupped her. Thumbed the two rigid peaks.
She wriggled restlessly.
“Do you like this?” he asked.
“Yes.” A breath. A sigh.
He dipped his head and took one tip in his mouth, enrobing her in his heat. Sucking gently with rhythmic tugs. God, he wanted to do that skin to skin. He wanted to taste her.
But he was determined to take his time. To ratchet up her pleasure. So he didn’t rip off her bra as he wanted to do. Instead, he nuzzled the other nipple and slowly eased his hand down to the snap of her jeans.
“Dylan, Jesus.” She growled and pulled away. His gut clenched. But only for a second, because she pulled away to rip off her jeans and toss them onto the floor. Where they belonged.
The bra followed.
His breath hitched at the beauty she revealed.
Perfect, creamy mounds crested by tantalizing brown nipples.
He was drawn to them like a bee to nectar.
He lapped, curling his tongue around one turgid peak, and then the other. Sipping, sucking, feasting until she fisted her fingers in his hair and arched into him and whimpered.
Only then, did he continue his exploration.
And ah, was there a bounty to explore!
The skin on her abdomen was velvety smooth. His caress roved impatiently, loving the little goose bumps rising at his touch. Over her ribs, down a gentle slope to her flat belly, over to the curve of her hips. And then, finally, as though he had been thinking of anything else, to the juncture of her thighs.
Her heat met him.
He lifted his head and found her gaze as he cupped her mound. She shivered. “Dylan.” She mouthed his name. A wordless plea.
He responded. Because he knew. He knew what she wanted. And he wanted it too.
He slipped beneath the band of her delightfully innocent white cotton panties and traced her crease. Just traced it.
Her animalistic growl rumbled around him.
“You like this?” The words stuck in his throat. He felt like a schoolboy on an illicit date. Excited and worried and horny as hell.
“More.” A groan. “More.”
Watching her expression like the predator he was, he delved deeper between her steamy folds. Nudged her clit. Teased the tip. She hissed in a breath and threw back her head. He circled her. Her thighs spread wider. Hips pumped with impatient demand.
But still, he teased her, reveling in the warm cream coating her slit.
He chuckled when she pushed him away, sat up and ripped her panties off.
He didn’t even notice where they fell. Didn’t care. Because now she lay bare before him.
Something shifted inside him. The sweet, patient man, determined to tease and delight her, faded. What rose up in his place was a beast. A hungry, snarling beast driven by the urge to have her, possess her, fuck her.
He wrenched her thighs apart, baring her core. Her scent, arousal and heat wafted toward him, enflaming him. His heart battered his chest in a manic tattoo.
He couldn’t help it. He buried his face in her crotch. Breathing her in. Tasting her. Consuming her. She squealed a little at the ferocity of his attack, but she spread her legs wider and, after a minute, began pushing up, mutely demanding more and more.
So he gave it to her.
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