Hot as Hades (12 page)

Driven to uncover the truth and push the limits of their sexual boundaries, she convinces Taylor to arrange a weekend getaway to a friend’s luxury cottage in the mountains. It’s the perfect place to get her husband to spill his secrets—and show him there’s a wealth of kinky fantasies hiding inside his good girl.

Taylor’s spent years suppressing his animalistic side, hiding the not-completely-human DNA that once drove him wild. Except now his once quiet, reserved Ana has launched a campaign to destroy every inch of his hard-won control.

With the snowy wilderness containing his darkest memories surrounding them, and his old pack-mate dropping in to give them a few pointers, the sexual battle of wills gets fierce.

Let the games begin.

Warning: Contains a brooding, dirty-minded, not-quite-human hero, a sweet not-quite-good-girl heroine, a howling-hawt car ride up a mountain, a chase through the snow followed by an erotic adventure with sports equipment, oral sex, anal sex, and a M/F/M ménage scene that will leave you panting.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Never Have I Ever:

Taylor studied the shape of Ana’s ass in the bright pink snowsuit she wore. It was a sad, sad day when the sight of the woman in a shapeless outfit drove him a little mad.

For the umpteenth time he cursed Eli’s presence. His best friend had the absolute worst timing. Forget the fact that he’d been put outside like a naughty pup, when he could be snuggling with his wife on a wide leather sofa. With the other man here, he couldn’t even try to communicate with her about their recent escapades…not that he had the slightest inkling of how to broach that subject.

You know that mind-blowing sex we had last night? Please don’t let me fuck you like an animal anymore. We need to leave here, because I think this place is making me want to do things to you that aren’t even entirely legal in some states. Oh, yeah, and I never told you, but I’m a—

Abort, abort. Don’t think it. If you don’t think it, it’s not real.

That’s right. The test wasn’t over yet. He still had all day tomorrow to get his body and rioting hormones under control. Perhaps by then he’d also be able to figure out what was going on in his newly enabling wife’s tricky brain.

“This fresh air is so bracing, isn’t it?”

Ana had to shout, and even then her voice was muffled by the ski mask on her face. His outfit wasn’t nearly so confining, but then, his body temperature was higher than hers. The wind had stopped howling, and there was a lull in the snow. A good foot or two of the stuff had built up on the ground from the night before. It was soft, perfect for—

A snowball hit him square in the face. He recoiled in instinct and then shook his head. Ana’s brown eyes behind her mask were alight with mischief and delight. “Whoops.”

“I can’t believe you just did that.”

“Hmmm.” She leaned over, picked up a handful of snow and packed it deliberately between her palms. He watched her, hands loose at his sides. She let it fly, and this time the powder hit him square in the chest and dissipated. “Do you believe it now?”

“You little…”

When he bent over to grab some snow, she squealed and began running away, but soon discovered snowshoes didn’t allow for much speed. She wasted precious seconds trying to get her feet out from them. He, who had far more practice with the shoes, took them off in record time. Still, he waited patiently in his boots.

She yelped again when she glanced over her shoulder and took in his ready stance, a snowball in each hand, and started to run back to the house.

“I’ll give you a ten-second lead,” he announced. He was feeling generous, after all, and she was slow and tiny compared to him. Still, he let the snowballs fly, watching as she ducked and they smacked into the ground near her.

“Sucker…” came her faint reply as she disappeared around a tree.

Taylor didn’t even bother to run, his strides eating up the ground, one step to every three of hers. The snow was so soft it was an easy matter to simply follow her footprints.

About ten feet into the woods, though, her footsteps stopped in front of a tree.

His eyes narrowed. He looked left, and then right. He even glanced up, but there was no Ana sitting up a tree. Not like she would have that much maneuverability with the bulky outfit on her. “Ana,” he shouted.

Nothing.

He listened, but unlike Eli and the rest of his family, his hearing wasn’t quite so superior.

His smell, though…

Taylor smiled grimly and inhaled, sorting through the scent of pine and smoke to find Ana’s uniquely feminine scent, overlaid by vanilla lotion.

Aaaaand, there she was. Hello, Ana.

He stepped around the tree, only then noticing the almost too-careful brushing of the snow. A smile spread across his face, both proud and amazed. Smart girl, dragging something behind her to keep her path hidden.

For someone who’d grown up in a crowded city, she’d just mightily impressed him.

He didn’t bother walking anymore, but started running, his legs eating up the ground, following both her scent and the brushed path in the snow. He’d catch her soon.

She’d zigged and zagged well though, moving fast for a tiny human who was weighed down by winter clothes, boots and what appeared to be a tree branch. His admiration shot up another notch.

So did his lust.

When I find her…

He couldn’t even formulate the words as he ran faster, as her scent became stronger. Images passed through his mind of her wearing a fragile peasant blouse and flimsy skirt. When he found her, he would rip her top off…

His strides lengthened. She’d gasp, but her body would conform to his, her mouth eating his as surely as he ate at hers. Sinking sweetly to her knees, she would open his rough trousers, take his cock out and suck it into her mouth. He’d control her motions with his hand on her head, making sure that she fucked him exactly as he wanted and needed it, and then he’d hoist her up against the side of a tree, rip her panties off and fuck her as she screamed and squirmed under his body. The rough bark would bite into his hands where he braced them, but he wouldn’t care, would be unable to stop…

The sound of panting filled his ears, and it took him a second to realize it was him, his breathing coming mostly from arousal and not exertion.

Find your woman.

Fuck your woman.

The sentences became a never-ending loop in his head, reverberating through every cell in his body, commanding him, working him into a frenzy. He didn’t even need to look at the disturbed snow—he could smell her, so close, so close, soclosesoclosesoclose…

He broke free from the stand of trees. Her ski suit made her into a target of puffy pink, small and defenseless in the huge backyard of the cottage. Like any good predator, he made sure she heard him too late. By the time she started to turn, he was in mid-leap. She could only get out a tiny squeak before he tackled her to the ground.

Somehow, though he was in his frenzied state, he managed to keep her landing soft, cradling a hand under her head so she wouldn’t smack it against the snow, shifting his weight so he didn’t land on her.

He kissed her, his desperation and need a living thing, uncaring that she still wore a ski mask, uncaring that she was bundled in layers of slick outerwear.

She kissed him back eagerly, but it was the cold lips under his that made him draw back, reason entering his mind for the first time since he’d caught her scent.

“Inside,” he said roughly.

With the ski mask on, all he could see was her wild eyes and her lax, wet mouth. She grabbed him by the sides of his face and brought him down to kiss her again.

He complied, surprised and hard. Was she as excited by this chase as he was? It was the slight touch of wetness on his wrist where his glove had separated from his jacket sleeve that brought him back to the world.

“Too cold,” he rumbled, and moved off her despite her grasping arms.

He hoisted her to her feet and glanced at the house. Eli was inside there.

Good. Make him watch you take her. Maybe he doesn’t know yet that she’s yours. Force him to admit it.

Taylor shook his head, trying to shove the vicious thoughts out. Images bombarded him again, even more dark and dirty, of Eli holding Ana still for his penetration. Fucking his wife’s mouth while the other man ate out her cunt, both of them driving her wild with pleasure.

No! No. He’d never treat her like that.

“Taylor, please, fuck me here. I need you so bad.”

The dirty word coming from his wife’s sweet lips drove him even further into his dangerously borderline feral state. If she had had his higher body temperature, she probably could have easily been fucked into a snowbank, but she didn’t. And he feared what would happen if he did take her to the house to find Eli there.

So he hoisted her into a fireman’s carry, ignoring her yelp of surprise, and made way for the huge storage shed. Despite its humble name, the space was large and neat, and most importantly, it kept the cold out.

After he entered, he set her on her feet on the concrete floor and gave her a terse order. “Strip.”

Who says getting eaten by a shark is a bad thing?

Maximum Witch

© 2011 Jodi Redford

That Old Black Magic, Book 3

Willa Jameson is having one whopper of an identity crisis. Odd memory flashes that aren’t hers. A sultry voice in her head that’s obsessed with sex. Even weirder, she finds herself in the jaws of a rogue leviathan, dragged to the bottom of the ocean—and rescued by a hunky…
shark
?

The last thing Sheriff Max Truitt expects to find on his daily, deep-Atlantic patrol is a human—especially one who breathes underwater. Compelled to take her home, he waits for the beauty to wake up and reveal her name. Instead he’s treated to a punch in the nose, then a sexy romp hot enough to boil water.

The next morning, embarrassed by the sizzling, scandalous things the voice in her head drove her to do, Willa slips away. But if there’s one thing a determined shark excels at, it’s tracking his favorite meal.

Solving the mystery that is Willa is no simple task. When they finally unlock a dangerous secret hidden deep in her subconscious, it drives a wedge between them…and puts them in a desperate race against an evil that seeks to rain down a watery Armageddon on all mankind.

Warning:
This book does not contain sex with a puffer fish. There’s not even sex with a seahorse. However, there’s plenty of smoking-hot lovin’ with a shark. And even a steamy M/F/M threesome. So slap on your snorkels and swim fins, things are about to get wet and wild.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Maximum Witch:

She watched Max stride to the pick-up window and collect their sack of food and beverages, her trepidation coiling like a tight spring. Her life was slowly unraveling around her, and she didn’t know how to stop it. How to make things normal again.

It seemed incomprehensible that a little over a week ago none of this had been an issue. Her head had been blessedly void of seductive voices whispering things she didn’t understand. Sure, her job had been stressful as always, but she could handle all of that stuff. It was this total lack of control that was driving her closer and closer to permanent residency in the local loony bin. At first she’d assumed it was a form of early life crisis. Her thirtieth birthday was less than three days away. Not exactly life altering, but the date also marked the anniversary of her parents’ death. More than ever, she felt the fragility of life and how easily it could all be ripped away. It also drove home one indisputable truth—she was more alone than ever.

Max pivoted in her direction, and her heart gave an odd squeeze. He represented hope, the promise of a future that didn’t have to be solitary. But how could she trust her thoughts when they weren’t her own? How could she drag Max into this craziness when she didn’t even want to be there? The best, kindest thing she could do at this point would be to walk away from him and never look back.

Too bad her feet seemed to be cemented in place. Forcing a pained smile, she scooted over on the bench, making room for Max. He sat next to her and handed over her lemonade before fishing her sandwich from the bag. Accepting the package from him, she crumpled back one side of the waxed paper and sank her teeth into the rye and pastrami, a happy groan leaking free. As he’d done last night, Max watched her with unabashed appreciation. She licked the corner of her lip, catching the tangy essence from the dressing. His eyes darkened.

She finished chewing and swallowed. “Aren’t you hungry?”

His focus never veered from her mouth. “Yes. For you.”

Oh boy. “Max, I told you. We can’t—”

“I want to peel your clothes off and lay you out for my own personal all-you-can-eat buffet.”

She gulped and attempted to combat her raging arousal with sarcasm. “That’s a little scary coming from a shark.”

“I can be very good with my teeth when given the proper inspiration.”

“Would you please eat your sandwich and stop staring at me like I’m dessert?” Grumbling, she squeezed her legs together and took a sip from her lemonade. She relaxed a fraction when she detected the crinkling of waxed paper as Max unwrapped his Philly cheese steak.

They ate in companionable silence for several minutes, until her belly was full and she couldn’t imagine indulging in another bite. But despite having the edge taken off her hunger in one respect, the lusty cravings that kept her on the brink of jumping out of her skin only worsened the longer she was around Max. She harbored no doubts that if she didn’t get some much-needed space between them soon, she would gladly be flat on her back and offering herself to Max for his amorous snacking pleasures.

Crushing the remnants of her meal into a compact ball, she rushed to the nearby trash receptacle and pitched everything inside. Max followed suit and slid his arm around her waist again, snuggling her close until she had no choice but to walk along weakly, drunk and woozy on his delicious pheromones.