Driven by Desire (14 page)

“You like that, don’t you?”

“Yes.” In the mirror, she could see his pelvis meeting her ass, never missing a single beat. “More.”

“You like to watch too?” He met her gaze in the mirror. “Don’t you?”

“Yes.”

Marcus
exaggerated his movements, pulling out all the way and then plunging back in sharply. The image nearly took her over the edge. He did it more than once, taunting her into an orgasm. He grabbed a handful of her hair in his fist and increased tempo and speed. Her body shock under him through her lengthy climax and more warm juices coated him as continued to ride her.

“Oh, shit…” He groaned, as neared his own completion.

They never took their eyes away from the image of them fucking in the mirror, even when hot semen burned through her during his completion.

“Oh, gosh.” His breathing slowed and they both tumbled in the chair behind them. “You’ve driven me to become a sex fiend.”

“Well you started it, bad boy,” she panted.

“And you asked for it, bad girl.”

<<<
THE END>>>

Want more of the
Rugged crew?

Zaira and Trent’s story will be continued in the next b
ook in the Rugged Riders series.

Ambrielle Kirk pens tales of romance in various subgenres. Her favorites are contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and urban fantasy. As a child, she never really dreamed of being an author. It was a destined path that chose her. Now she writes with her readers in mind, but the characters, of course, dictate the outcome.

Visit her website for more diverse, edgy, romantic fiction at
http://ambriellekirk.com

Emails are always welcome.

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Excerpt from Reinstated Bond

by Holley Trent

From
Reinstated Bond
- a second-chance romance novelette

Copyright
© 2012 Holley Trent

Marilyn Skinner is a woman on the run. Falsely accused of arson, she skipped a court date. She knew the cards were stacked against her seeing as how the house she supposedly set fire to belonged to her most recent ex…the mayor's son. Why bother with a trial when she knows where she'll end up?

Carter Aiken is the man assigned to apprehend Marilyn when her bond gets revoked, but she isn't just any ordinary fugitive. Ten years ago, he and Marilyn were high school sweethearts. They broke up because Carter wasn't ready to go public with their relationship and risk infuriating his conservative parents back then. Now Carter's all grown up, and wants to reignite the flame. First, though, he's got to turn Marilyn in to the police.

One of those things doesn't sound so bad to Marilyn, but the other? Hell no.

***

"I don't want to hurt you, Mar. I'm just doing my job."

"You proud of that job?" She took a horizontal swing in the vicinity of his chest.

He leaned back to dodge it on one beat and grabbed her wrist with his free hand on the next. He tossed the padlock key onto the table and pinned her other arm behind her back.

"You're hurting me."

"I know how to do my job, baby. You're lying. You want to hold real still while I grab my cuffs, or do you wanna wrassle?"

She growled and tried to wretch herself away from him, but his grip was too strong, his stance too steady. She sighed. He had always been an unmovable force. He'd actually weighed more back in high school when he was playing football, but had slimmed down to around one hundred seventy-five pounds after graduation. He was all muscle. Delightful, lean muscle that she could see flexed inside the sleeves his dark tee shirt. Nice, firm muscles that cinched nicely inside the waist of his belted jeans. She swallowed hard.

"Like what you see, Mar?"

Her gaze trailed up to his face, ruggedly handsome with square chin and cornflower blue eyes that she knew would look gray when it was dark. He'd grown his hair out since high school. The high and tight conservative shear of his younger days was replaced with hair down to his shoulders. She wanted to rake her hands through it, ask him if he brushed it a hundred times before going to bed each night, it was that silky. She didn't remember it being silky. She didn't remember a lot of things, maybe.

He gave her a gentle nudge. "Do you?"

She swallowed again and blinked. "I'm sorry, what was the question?"

"I asked you if you like what you see." He loosened his grip on the hand he held behind her back and instead pinned both her arms between their two bodies as he crushed her front against his.

She let out a little whimper at the feeling of an unsated cock against her belly.

He twined his fingers in her curls and pulled her head back, tipping his face up to his. "Do you?"

"Yes," she whispered.

"God, I missed you, baby."

His lips crushed hers, and she stood there in the dim garage, eyes wide, frozen in place while this near-God nipped at her lips and circled her tongue with his. She moaned and closed her eyes. Damn, the man could still kiss her boneless just like he did when he was eighteen. And just like she did when she was sixteen, standing under the bleachers at the middle school where they regularly met to neck, she hooked a leg around his, and ground her crotch against his thigh.

Now it was his turn to moan, and he freed his vise-like grip and let his fingers trail down her back to grab her ass, drawing her even closer in that same way he always had--that same way that made her wonder if what they were doing was sex or not.

Shit.

Her eyelids sprang open. She unhooked her leg from around his and pulled back from his satiny lips. Before he could assess her strategy, she shifted her weight and kneed him in the baby-maker.

"Sorry!" she said, genuinely meaning it as he hunched over, cradling his nuts in his hands. Her legs felt like gelatin, but she backed out of the garage, eyes still on her former love, until she was in the yard, then she darted into the cornfield once more.

Buy Reins
tated Bond from AMAZON

Excerpt from Bad Boy Next Door

by Melissa Blue

From
Bad Boy Next Door

Copyright © 2013 Melissa Blue

After a lifetime of dating too many Mr. Nice Guys, Penelope Copeland is ready to shed her good girl persona. She's looking for a little adventure, with a sprinkle of fun and whole lot of naughty. Unfortunately, most bad boys won't give her the time of day. They only see her as a sweet kindergarten teacher. Now, all she has to do is convince Ryan Pollard, her self-proclaimed bad-boy neighbor, that she's not as sweet as she looks.

Ryan Pollard is not one to follow conventional rules. His job as a crime reporter doesn't leave him with much use for them. Yet, he's managed to keep his relationship with Penelope platonic with just a hint of flirtation--until tonight. She says she wants an adventure, a walk on the dark side, and he's more than eager to give her one.

When their adventure takes a turn from playful to serious, Ryan and Penelope must choose between pretending the night never happened
or embarking on the greatest adventure of all--love.

***

Penelope had only intended to thank Ryan, but then she touched him and a spark nipped at her fingertips from the light brush of skin. The moment suspended and a fire lit within her like nothing she'd felt before, which definitely explained why the dating world had turned into a barren wasteland. She wanted Ryan, and no one else would do until she had him. That became very clear as his gaze telegraphed he wanted to bite her in all the right places.

“I'm not nice,” he rasped.

“I don't want nice.” She probably never had and in that moment nice was the last thing she needed. She swallowed and tried to bring levity back to the moment. “Being good has gotten me nowhere fast. I need to be sullied a little.” She laughed. It was full of nerves.

He shifted closer. She trembled. Penelope knew, just knew, he was going to kiss her, but then his phone rang and broke the tension. He stilled, gaze never leaving her mouth. Another moment passed, and then Ryan let out a breath that sounded way too relieved to her liking and took the call.

“Pollard,” he answered and finally looked away from her.

Whatever the person said forced him to close his eyes and mutter a curse. He took another step back. “Don't do this to me today. I don't have the—” He stopped again, listened and the murmured curses became more inventive.

Her brows crept up her forehead even while her heart continued to pound at what could have just happened. So sure it would and—wait a minute. Why did she have to regret what hadn't happened? What stopped her from dragging them back onto that course? What kept her from feeling that zing and, for once, being the woman with a disposition that men kissed in the hallway? What prevented her from knowing in a tangible way what simmered in his gaze?

Nothing, that's what. This would be the something that gave. Decided, Penelope straightened.

“No,” Ryan said, “don't...give me twenty minutes to figure something out. Okay?” The wanted answer must have come because he let out a breath and pumped his fist. “Okay.”

He ended the call and with his free hand Ryan ran his fingers through the mop of silky strands in a frustrated jerk. Taking a chance, probably the last and only one to shift things between them, she tested the waters. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Nothing major. He's gotten skittish on me and doesn't want to do a personal hand-off anymore.” He glared down at his phone as though that would solve the problem.

“So, you'll have to go to a train station exactly at 11:15 tonight. Look under the third bench from the left and what you need will be taped underneath.”

The scowl finally dropped away from his expression and his lips twitched. “Something like that.”

“Sounds like fun.” He'd put distance between them again and she started to close it. No more than five minutes ago he'd looked at her like a man starving. She'd have to use that as leverage.

“It can be,” he said with caution. “Most of the thrill from hunting down the story is talking people into telling you what they know.”

“Thrill, huh?” Another step and his Adam's apple bobbed but he didn't move. “Haven't had one of those in a while.”

By now the nice, shy guys her friends and family hooked her up with would flush and start to stammer with wide eyes. Ryan's gaze narrowed and his breath quickened. “Yeah?”

She nodded, taking another step, not believing how brazen she was acting, but this had to be the give. “Even if I can't help, I have a proposition.”

“And that would be?” The gruff in his tone made the hairs on the nape of her neck stand up and prickle over her skin, tightening her nipples.

“What did he say you had to do, exactly?” she asked.

“He wants to do the hand off with someone other than me. Thinks he's being followed.”

There. “Let me do it then.”

“You?” His brows rose in surprise, but he still shifted into her space.

She lifted her shoulder in a nonchalant manner. The nerves that filled her gut knew that gesture for the lie it was. “Take me with you and I can do the exchange. You've told me before it's like running an errand.”