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Curved Lines: Tattooed Bad Boys and the Women They Love
The Complete Set
10 Hot Tattooed Alpha Men and the Curvy Women They Love. Let these bad boys sweep you off your feet in this bestselling boxed set! From billionaires to shifters, there’s a book boyfriend for everyone.
Authors: Dee Tenorio, Dee Carney, Allie Cooke, Lex Couper, Merryn Dexter, Tilly Greene, Kathryn Lively, Dawn Montgomery, Jodi Redford, Quinn
Acquired Taste – Dee Carney
When celebrity chef August Jaeger mixes it up with a curvy food blogger, they both realize what they want isn’t on any menu.
Dirty Deeds – Allie Cooke
Four days, a million dollars, the performance of a lifetime…but what happens when they stop faking it? Dirty Deeds ain’t always dirt cheap.
Scorched Desire — Lexxie Couper
When a Harley-riding hunk literally sweeps her off her feet, Jilly Parker finds herself transported to a world of dragon shifters, carnal lust, and fated love.
Pretty In Ink – Merryn Dexter
Sexy, sweet Aubrey Jensen is everything a semi-reformed bad boy could want – but sometimes getting what you want doesn’t give you what you need.
Hot Tamale – Tilly Greene
Derek Schrizer is a retired Marine looking to get a new tattoo, not reconnect with his first love, the curvy sexy Cat.
Waking Up – Kathryn Lively
A chance encounter forces a plus-sized woman with dormant dreams to wake up and find her own Happily Ever After.
Marked By Ice – Dawn Montgomery
His only job is to protect her at all costs, but who will protect the big bad wolf’s heart once he gets a taste of her sweet lips?
Like a Boss – Quinn
Proving she’s more than a smart mouth and sexy curves would be a hell of a lot easier if she wasn’t so distracted by her sexy new boss.
Kinky Curves – Jodi Redford
The queen of dirty talk. The king of grind. Love is about to get real filthy.
Another Man’s Treasure – Dee Tenorio
A widowed actor and single dad pulls out all the stops to show a single mom just how well a woman can be treasured.
Keep up with events, giveaways, and more on the boxed set.
Check out Curved Lines’ Facebook page.
The authors are having an online party on Friday, August 12th in thanks to all their readers for putting them on the bestseller list. Come get to know the authors, have some fun, and possible win a prize or two. Hope to see you there.
CURVED LINES — First Chapters Sampler
Still not sure if this is the book for you? How about a sample?
First of all, I have another of those books coming out soon. Slide Down On Me. Oh yes, the hero is a bad boy and he’s all tattoos and piercings and naughtiness. You’ll adore him!
The release date for Slide Down On Me is February 12th. Mark your calendars. You can see it on the Ellora’s Cave Coming Soon page, here. I’ll be updating my website page for it soon.
Ever since writing Simple Need and the unbelievable response to it and to Vinter, I have loved, hear me, LOVED writing these tattooed, pierced, very dirty heros. They’ve got sex on their minds and curvy women in their arms. They’re the bad boys every woman dreams of, at least once in her life, and they’re looking to corrupt the good girl.
Grease is a good example. Danny and Sandy.
Dirty Dancing is another one. Johnny and Frances ‘Baby’.
Billy Joel sang about it in Only The Good Die Young and Uptown Girls.
There are other, more recent examples, but…why look away from the classics? Elvis swung and gyrated his hips and all the girls swooned.
The bad boys are who we desire, even as we date the suits. (Though, don’t get me wrong, a man in a suit is delicious all on his own).
I love writing about the bad boys like Vinter, Jaz, Dallon (poor man just gets no love), Brax, and now, Travis. I always have a bad boy in my pocket, ready to come out and play with my readers.
There’s something about their rough-edged ways, their scratchy hands, their wicked smiles, their ink, their language, their Come Play With Me winks… They have stories to tell and soft hearts to give to that special girl. They don’t want the one who’s been around the block, they want the one who needs what only they have to offer. They’ll heal a broken heart, they’ll leave a woman satisfied and wanting more, they’ll fight for what they want but they won’t beg.
I love these men that I’ve created and it makes me grin that you love them too.
I have a plan for a new self-published series about the tattooed bad boys and as soon as it’s more developed, I’ll let you in on it. I’m planning a free read that will go into my Newsletter for those who want to know what happens once Joe gets back to Love and Tattoos and finds Brax and Annie.
And, I know y’all are waiting for more Simple Need books and the plan had been to finish Mac and Jackie’s story and turn it in, however, due to some issues that I am not at liberty to discuss, that plan is on hold, indefinitely. If you wish to email me to express your disgruntlement about this development, I’ll understand. Believe me, I am not happy with it either, but it is the right thing at this time.
The new series that I am planning will hopefully make up for any lack that you feel. Again, when I have more details, they will be given to you, i.e. cover, title, blurb, release date, etc…
These types of books are my favorite to write (especially if I can add some food into them) and I just adore these heros. Not to say I don’t love writing my cowboys and the shifters that I’m working on as well, because well, let’s just say, there’s nothing wrong with any of them… They’re all hot and bothered and delicious.
Being that Slide Down On Me is coming out later than expected, it will push the release of The Sticky Cowgirl back a couple of weeks to the end of February/early March. I am trying not to group releases too close together for both my sanity and your wallet, but mainly my sanity. And, yeah, your wallet. While I want to flood you with books to read, a little time to breathe between hot men is a good thing. I don’t want y’all needing oxygen tanks. Or…maybe I do…
Small-town mechanic and tattooed bad boy Travis keeps his profile low, his needs satisfied outside the city limits, and his business running smoothly. He doesn’t cause trouble and he certainly doesn’t want any. Trouble finds himone scorching afternoon, however, in the form of the equally scorching Arabella Drake. The former heiress owes Travis for car repairs, money she can’t readily pay.
Their situation requires a creative solution, and while most of the town rejects Bella, Travis wants to ravish her. He offers a proposal, one that will soften the repair costs—and satisfy Travis’ longstanding wish to have Bella Drake naked, writhing and sliding down on every inch of him.
Bad in all the Good Ways….
It was recently brought to my attention that I’m drawn to good guys in my romance novels. And when it was mentioned, I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it. My inner rebellious child screamed that they were wrong. After all, girls like bad boys! The ones with tattoos and motorcycles and don’t give a damn about what society says. Men who are slightly damaged and rough around the edges.
But then I started to think about it. Really and truly think about it. All of the heroes I’ve created were indeed good guys. Jacob is a DEA agent, Reuel takes over leadership of a village, Kavin is a King’s Guard, and Isaac is an enforcer. But I still wasn’t convinced so I dug a little deeper with my newest hero, Isaac. Of all my heroes, he’s the shadiest and the most dangerous. If I could prove any of them is a bad boy at heart, it’s him.
Okay, Isaac is an enforcer—kind of the police of the magical. And it doesn’t get more ‘good guy’ than a cop, right? But he tricks Nikki into a blood bond. It’s illegal, unethical, and could cost him his job.
Doesn’t give a damn about what society says? Check!
But he bonds Nikki in the hopes of saving his sister, Molly. Does having good intentions count against him here? Okay, maybe we should just move along…
He’s covered from his neck down in ink.
Tattooed? Check and check!
But his ink is actually a hindrance. It leaves him vulnerable. And bad boys seldom leave themselves vulnerable to the world. Hmmm….
Slightly damaged and rough around the edges is a definite check, though. How could he be anything but damaged coming from his power-obsessed family? His own mother uses him to broker alliances among the powerful and the elite. That one I’ll give to him without contest. I’m not sure that’s enough to make him a bad boy, though.
Maybe you can help me decide. Want an excerpt on Isaac being bad? Here’s a taste:
Nikki heard the low growl of impatience, but it took a second for her to recognize it as her own. “You talk too much.” She covered his mouth with hers, silencing him.
The kiss was filled with challenge and desire, making it both hungry and vulnerable at the same time. His arms closed around her back as she deepened the kiss, pulling her closer, until every inch of her body was pressed against his. The feel of his skin under hers was intoxicating.
Pushing him away, she sat up and stared at him for a moment before lowering her mouth to his neck. Her tongue sought out and found his racing pulse. Savoring the lightly salty taste of his skin, she started working her way down to the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder. Biting him teasingly, she heard him moan as his hands clenched her thighs.
“You taste good.” Her voice was husky, seductive—intentionally so. Here, she was in her element.
“And what if I want to taste you?”
God, this was just what she needed. “Feel free.”
“No, I mean all of you.”
There was no mistaking his meaning. Their magic lived in their blood and, although she’d never shared hers with anyone, she’d heard it was an aphrodisiac. One hardly ever offered because it could also be used to enslave another.
But he couldn’t enslave her—couldn’t evoke the blood bond because he didn’t know her name. There was no way to bind another without their name. Also, a person could only place one blood bond in a lifetime. No one would waste something that precious on a one-night stand. She’d be safe. And the thought of his blood on her tongue made her quiver with need.
“Will you bleed for me?” she asked, her voice heavy with desire.
Sitting up, he pulled a small knife from a night table and ran it across his wrist. When he’d cut enough to provoke several drops of blood he held it out to her. The magic in their blood prevented blood-borne diseases, so she didn’t have to worry about that. But still, she felt suddenly nervous. She had no idea what to expect. The wave of desire that hit her at just the tangy smell of his blood was enough to overcome her nerves, though. Leaning forward, she touched the blood with just the tip of her tongue. His magic was a mystery, but the power of it rushed through her. She was flying with his strength, the constant anxiety and fear that ate away at her, gone. If this was how her sister felt on heroin, she could almost understand Izzy’s addiction.
Even with her head buzzing, she felt a small measure of her earlier concern return but she quickly brushed it away. He’d lived up to his end of the deal. And if he meant to hurt her, he’d had plenty of time not to mention opportunity already. But he hadn’t harmed her in any way. In fact, he’d given her one of the most pleasurable experiences she’d ever had.
“Your turn.” She held out her wrist to him boldly. Nothing in her entire life had ever felt this good. Not even the knife slicing through her skin was enough to dull the sensation, especially when the warmth of his mouth covered the wound. She’d been wrong. Having him take her blood was even better than taking his.
He sucked in a ragged breath as the warmth of his body left her. Opening her eyes, she stared at him as confusion began to chase away her desire. She’d never wanted to be closer to another person than she did with him at that moment. Why was he pulling away from her?
“Nicola Lillian Rathe, I bond you to me with the power of your own blood.”
It took a moment for the words to sink through the heady desire that was wrapped around her, but when they finally did, white-hot anger killed what was left of the seductive warmth throbbing through her and made her breathing hard and ragged with disbelief. “What?”
“You’re mine.” He said the words triumphantly, but there was a sadness in his eyes. Refusing to see it, she leapt for the knife he’d left foolishly close to her.
“Like hell I am.” Her fingers closed around the sleek handle of the blade. She wasn’t an expert on blood bonds by any standard of measure, but she did know if you killed the holder, it’d set the slave free.
“You can try.” He held his arms out, giving her a clean shot at his heart. She’d never killed anyone, but if it was to free herself she was pretty sure she could. She tried to force the knife toward him, but as excruciating pain exploded in her head she dropped it again. “But the bond won’t let you hurt me.”
Cursing, she brought her gaze to meet his. “Bastard!”
His sigh was exaggerated. “If you can’t say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”
The word asshole sat on her tongue, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t say it.
The condescending prick was going to pay. Maybe she couldn’t hurt him directly, hell, now she couldn’t even call him names, but she’d figure out a way to make him pay.
And then there’s what he does with his cuffs… Oh, that’s definitely good!
Okay, so maybe I have a thing for good guys. And maybe, when a good guy is bad in all the best possible ways, that’s not such a bad thing to have.
If you want to know more about Isaac you can find Bond Betrayed on the Ellora’s Cave website and my author site:
Or you can comment for a chance to win a digital copy of the book. Make sure you leave your e-mail address so I can contact you if you win. If you’re concerned about your address falling into evil bot hands replace the ‘@’ with AT and the ‘.’ with DOT
Thanks so much for coming by and seeing me today. And a huge thank you to Lissa Matthews for having me on her blog!
Bad Boys. At Night. Oh. My.
I have a few of those. Vinter. Dallon. Jaz. And readers LOVE bad boys…
Snippet: Simple Need
Vinter grinned again. He couldn’t help it. He’d watched her from the moment she walked in, to the moment she sat down at the bar, to the moment he couldn’t stand it any longer and he got up to sit next to her. He’d never seen her before, and while the bar attracted all sorts, the buttoned-up type of woman usually wasn’t it. He’d had innocent intentions from the get-go. He only wanted to say hello, talk to her for a few minutes, give her a friendly ear, listen to whatever her story was, because often people went to a bar for the first time because they didn’t know where else to go. They wanted to get lost in a place no one would know them and some would open up in that safe environment of anonymity.
Vinter wanted to know what had brought her into his bar, and getting her into bed had been the farthest thing from his mind. However, the second he sat next to her and she turned those big emerald eyes on him, he’d been a goner.
Lust flared in the green depths when she looked at him, and his gut twisted into a knot that slid down to his nuts and tugged hard. She tried to bank it, to mask it, but it remained steady as her eyes traveled up and down his body, lingering on the tats on his arms, zeroing in on his mouth. Hers went slack and her tongue slid out to lick her lips. He would have kissed her but he had the feeling the moment his mouth touched hers they’d be on the bar making out with him trying to get them both naked. Not that he would care.
“What’s your name?”
“Does it matter?”
Does it matter? Of course to hell it mattered. How was he supposed to whisper it in her ear as he pounded her ass if he didn’t know it? “Yes.”
“Really? Why? This is just about sex. Names don’t figure into it.”
Was she serious? It might start out as just being about sex, but he had a feeling that it wouldn’t end that way. “Trust me, names do figure into it. Maybe not tonight or even tomorrow, but by the end of the weekend, names will be figuring into it a lot.” When she stood there with her lips compressed into a thin line and her eyes looking everywhere but at him, he relented. Only for the time being, though. “Very well. You don’t have to tell me yours. Yet. However, mine is Vinter.”
Her eyes snapped up to meet his. He read relief there that he wasn’t going to press the issue. “Thank you. I just think names are a complication this kind of thing doesn’t need.”
“This kind of thing? Just what do you think this is?”
“You know, one night.”
“Huh.” He nodded once, though he completely disagreed and slid off the barstool, gesturing for her to walk ahead of him. She stopped short and had he not been paying attention, he’d have bumped right into her. As it was, he was able to catch himself just a hairsbreadth from her. When she turned around, her nose brushed his chest and she ended up being the one to stumble back in surprise. He caught her around the back of the neck only to haul her into his body.
Her breath came out on in a whoosh. “Th-the drink. Are you sure?” she panted out, her gaze locked in the center of his chest.
“I’m sure.” Vinter breathed in deep, the warm scents of fruit and spice wrapping around him. She looked up, questions in her eyes, and he smiled. “I own part of the house.”
“Oh. Okay then.”
She gave him a short, crisp nod and maneuvered out of his hold and out the door. He ignored the laughter ringing out behind him from the bartender and followed her outside into the cool night air.
She was on him in a second. The force of her launching herself at him pressed him back against the wall of the building as she pulled his mouth down to hers. Maybe she wasn’t as buttoned down as he’d first thought.
Her kiss was hungry and desperate. He hated that she’d been driven to need what he could give, but at the same time, he’d give it all and then some, grateful that he had what she needed. He was suddenly very glad that he’d stopped at the bar on his way home.
Snippet – Carnal Ecstasy
Dallon wiped down the bar for what seemed the hundredth time. Damn. Was the night ever going to end? He didn’t want to be there. It was that simple, but what he couldn’t figure out was why. He loved the bar, loved being in the bar, loved owning his third of the bar. It was his home, his safe haven, but tonight he just couldn’t muster up the love for it.
Tossing the rag in the sink, he knew exactly why he was so restless. Carrie. The woman he’d met at the grocery store earlier in the day. He’d walked out, carrying his purchases and stopped dead when he heard her voice as she talked on the phone and just stared at her. Dressed conservatively in a knee-length skirt that hugged her hips and a blindingly white, stiffly starched button-down shirt, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Her dark brown hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail and all he wanted to do was pull it. He’d wanted her on her knees right then and there, sucking the hell out of his dick while he held his bags of pretzels and cans of peanuts in one hand and pulled on that ponytail with the other. And here hours later, he wanted her still, naked on the bar, with her legs over his shoulders while he ate at her pussy. He wanted her and the innocence in her eyes so much he hurt.
They spoke briefly when she’d approached him and asked for directions to her new job. She’d explained that she was new in town, knew how to find her way from her apartment to where she would be working, but that she’d gotten all turned around while running errands and was lost. As she talked, all he could see in his mind was his ass burning in hell for the outrageously impure thoughts he was having about her mouth, her tits inside a bra he figured was serviceable and not at all sexy, and the holy land between her thighs. He’d had virgins and innocents before, and at times loved being the one to pop cherries. But this particular cherry was not going to be picked by him because she worked at the one place in town he swore never to associate with again, and that included the people there. She was off limits.
What a goddamn fucking shame too.
She’d asked his name and had willingly given hers, something he could have gone without knowing because now he knew what to call out when he came later. And that was just going to make it worse. Her name on his lips, in his mind.
Dallon looked up at the clock. Thirty minutes and he could close everything down for the night. He could lock up and head upstairs, jack off to the memory of her sweet, soft self. It was probably a good thing he didn’t know where she lived or that’s where he’d be going. He didn’t think someone like her would venture into a bar, so he was safe there too, even though she’d asked where he worked and if it was likely she’d be seeing him again, how it would be nice to have at least one friend.
He’d cursed himself for telling her where the bar was at the same moment he was giving her those directions too. Resisting temptation had never been his strong suit and damned if he wasn’t tempted from head to toe by her lush body and sweet voice and dark, melted chocolate eyes.
His head shot up and his gaze landed on her. “What the hell are you doing here?” he barked.
Her eyes widened at his harsh tone and the question he’d carelessly thrown out at her. He hadn’t meant to, but he was too close to the edge. He couldn’t remember the last time he wanted someone so much. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way, I just…”
She smiled and walked closer to the bar and to him, undeterred. God help him. He flinched inwardly at his choice of word. “It’s okay. I’m sure we’re both equally surprised.”
She was so pretty, so downy and pure. He wanted to defile every inch of her flesh until nothing could ever erase the memory of him from her skin. He wanted so much but he fucking needed her to leave. “You shouldn’t be here, Carrie.” Literally, the man or woman upstairs needed to send a bolt of lightning south and strike him dead for the thoughts he was having about this woman.
“Why not? This is a bar and I want a drink.” She sat down on a barstool directly across from him and linked her fingers on top of the dark, scarred wood.
He sighed. Why not? Oh, because the kind of things he wanted to do to her would ruin him for any other woman. And he’d bet she’d never had a drop of alcohol before. “You do, huh? Anything in particular?” There’s no way he’d give her just anything. He didn’t want her throwing up.
“Maybe a beer? One of those kinds with lime. You know, from the commercials of the couple on the beach. I like lime.”
Right. Beer wasn’t a bad choice. He personally couldn’t stand the stuff, but it was milder than a whiskey or tequila or rum. He dug around in the ice chest to his right for a Corona, popped the top off with the bottle opener and placed it on a cardboard coaster in front of her. “Take it slow. Don’t take a big swallow at first.”
She nodded and picked up the bottle and inhaled. It was the cutest thing how her nose wrinkled. She tentatively put the beer to her mouth, and just before she wrapped her lips around the opening, she looked up at him and lowered it slightly. “Do you like beer?”
Should he be honest or should he tell a little white lie? “Yes, every now and then.” What could the fib hurt? Whether he drank beer or not didn’t matter. What did matter was her feeling as if she weren’t completely alone in this.
When she wrapped her mouth around the lip of the bottle and tilted it up, letting some of the smooth, golden liquid flow across her tongue, Dallon fought back a groan. She swallowed, and as he watched her throat working, all he could think of was her mouth wrapped around his dick and her swallowing his come. “What do you think?”
She took another small sip then a bigger sip, and then set the bottle back down on the coaster. “It’s hard to describe. It’s not really a pleasant taste but it’s not a bad one either.” She smiled. “I think I like it. How much do I owe you?”
“You don’t. It’s on the house.”
“Oh no, I couldn’t accept that,” she said, and reached into her purse.
Dallon reached across the bar and stayed her hand. The contact was sizzling hot. “Yes, you can accept it. It’s on the house,” he said again. He didn’t want to let go of her wrist, but he did. It was time for her to go, time for him to lock up and forget he’d ever met her. He liked being single, unencumbered. He liked one-night stands and no morning-after awkwardness. If he had her once, he’d have her again and again. Not good for his peace of mind and his carefree existence. “I need to close up.”
He didn’t know what else he should say, but she didn’t respond. She was looking around the bar, turning full circle on the stool. When she faced him again, she picked up the bottle and took another swallow. Damn, but she had a pretty mouth.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Shit. Don’t say anything. Not a word. Not a single solitary word. “You should.”
She raised her eyes to look him square in his, a silent challenge reflected there. “Why?”
Dammit. He planted his hands on the edge of the bar and leaned toward her until he could smell the beer on her breath. “Because you don’t know who I am and you don’t know what fire you’re playing with.”
She licked at her lips. He wasn’t even sure she knew she did it. “W-who are you?”
No sense lying about it or anything else now. “The devil himself.”
Snippet – Ink Spots
“Did she tell you why I couldn’t be there for her?”
And she took that moment, that one serious moment to use that tongue of hers on her fork. It snaked out and licked at a drop of the liquid sugar before it could drip back onto the plate. His dick ached painfully under the table. He had to force himself not to reach down and adjust himself. The damn woman was hell on him.
“It doesn’t bother you?” he managed to croak out.
“What? That you were in jail for a bit? No. Should it?”
She just kept licking syrup from the tines. Heaven help him. She dipped the fork in the syrup on her plate then lifted it to her mouth and slowly licked at it, front and back, repeating the process a few more times, making it really difficult to resist the urge to pull her across the table and shove his cock to the back of her throat. “You need to stop that.”
Wide eyes flew up to lock with his gaze and that damnedable blush was back. She took one more long, slow lick of the piece of silverware before putting it down. The tip of her tongue took a swipe of her lower lip before retreating back behind her teeth.
She didn’t look one bit contrite, so he wasn’t sure he believed her on that. “How many candles?” There, he was changing the subject to something very, very safe.
“It’s not polite to ask a woman her age.”
“I didn’t. I asked how many candles. You could say one, two, thirty.”
“Uh-huh.” She smirked and he winked. “Forty.”
“You’re shittin’ me.”
“You don’t look a day over thirty. Not that I’ve ever been good with guessing people’s ages, but you don’t look any older than me.”
“How old are you?”
“Well, I’m not too much older than you and Jackie is my age.”
“I know, but she doesn’t look it either, and if I had to guess her age, I wouldn’t think she’s forty.”
“Forty is the new thirty, you know.”
“Age really doesn’t mean a whole lot to me.”
“What does? And if age doesn’t mean anything to you, why’d you ask?”
“So, I’d know how many birthday swats you get. And at the moment? You. You naked means a whole hell of a lot to me.”
The last blush hadn’t completely faded before another took its place, and he couldn’t stop himself. He pushed his plate then hers out of the way and leaned across the table. His intent was to give her a small kiss, but the second his lips touched hers, his tongue was inside her mouth, tasting sweetness that had him on the brink of a whole lot of improper public displays of affection.
When he pulled back, her eyes were dilated and her pulse was visibly throbbing in her neck. Reluctantly he nudged her back down and he sat, both frustrated and pleased with himself at the reactions he could cause in her. “Can’t very well do that here in the pancake place though.”
“Then I guess we need to go.”
Her words caused his dick to jerk in his jeans and Jaz couldn’t blame it for wanting at her as soon as possible. He looked around the very busy and full-for-one-thirty-in-the-morning restaurant and lifted his hand when he spotted their waitress. She nodded and would eventually make her way over to them.
Mandi picked up her fork again and was drawing designs in the syrup with it. He could think of a lot of things he would like to do with the syrup and her body. He cleared his throat and took a sip of his water. For not even trying, the woman had him so horny, so damn ready to fuck on the table. He couldn’t remember the last time a woman had made him feel that way.
Every time he saw her at Katz, he was ready to throw down and fuck her. Right now, in the middle of a family restaurant, was no different. There weren’t really any families to speak of at the moment, but… Even he didn’t know what it was about her that had him so tied up in knots, but that was quite all right with him. He didn’t need to know. He just needed to make sure she never forgot him, never forgot anything he did to her earlier, or would do to her later. He wanted to imprint himself on her body, on her mind, eventually on her heart.
“You really don’t care about age?”
“Nope. It’s just a number.”
“Good. I have a confession to make then.”
“I’m all ears.”
“I’ve been crushing on you since my first night at Katz. I argued with Jackie when she wanted to seat you and your friends at one of my tables.”
“Why were you arguing?”
“Lust at first sight, I think. I don’t know. I saw you walk in behind Vinter and Dallon and…” She shook her head and looked away. Hell if he wasn’t going to make her finish that statement.
“I can’t say it.”
“Oh yes you can. Spill it.”
“No, I can’t.”
He couldn’t tell if she was just being a tease or if she really was embarrassed because she still wasn’t looking at him. “What do you want to do after we leave here?”
That got her attention. She turned back to him. “Ummm…you.”
“Good. I wanna do you too. But we’re not leaving here until you tell me what comes after the ‘and’.”
Her mouth dropped open for a split second before she closed it. “That’s not nice.”
“I didn’t say anything about nice.”
“You make me wetter than any man I’ve ever known.”
“Is that what—”
“Yes. I creamed my panties when I saw you. Felt them get all wet as I watched you looking around. Every other guy paled in comparison. I told Jackie I couldn’t wait on you. That I couldn’t talk to you. She just smiled and said she understood.”
“So she was matchmaking from the very beginning.”
“We need to go. Now.” And lucky for them, their waitress chose that moment to stop and drop off the check. Jaz didn’t hesitate in picking it up. He tossed a few bills down for the tip and held his hand out for Mandi. When she took it, he pulled her up against him. “And we’re even too.”
“What do you mean?”
“You give me more hard-ons than any woman I’ve ever known.”
I just couldn’t resist. Now, once you’ve fanned yourself, head off to enjoy snippets from the following awesome authors.
Megan Hart:Read in bed!
Mandy M Roth