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
First impressions. Sometimes they’re good. Sometimes they’re horrid. But, they most often last forever and ever.
Do you remember the first impression you had of your SO? Did you even dream they’d become your SO? Did you like them? Want them? Revile them?
In most of my books, the main characters have already met off page, but a few of them, have met on the page and strangely, those seem to be my most popular books… Whether our characters make a good impression or bad impression on each other, the impression they make on the reader is lasting…
The bartender leaned against the polished, scarred wood of the bar. “Another one?”
Elise looked at the bottom of her glass and debated what the correct answer should be. Would she rather drive home or call a cab?
“Yes, let the lady have another.”
She turned her head at the man who had come to straddle the barstool next to hers. Short auburn hair, ice blue eyes, both arms covered in brightly colored tats, fingernails painted black, and a barely contained sex appeal reached out and enveloped her from her head all the way down to her toes. She wanted him. Right here, right now.
She cleared her throat, found her voice, and was pleased at its steadiness. “I appreciate it, but no. I think it’s time for me to call it a night.” In his bed would be a nice place to do that, but she’d just called a halt to all men for a while. Even gorgeous ones with hard dicks pressing against worn denim, and solid muscles framed to lean perfection beneath faded black tee shirts.
God, she needed to go home. He was way too tempting and her bruised ego was way too vulnerable.
Yes, why indeed. “It’s just time. Been a long day and all that.”
He reached out and stroked the back of her hand that was wrapped around the empty glass. “Going home alone?”
Would you like to come home with me? “Yes, alone.”
“Hmmm. That doesn’t sound like fun at all. Tell ya what. Why don’t you let me buy you another drink and you can fill me in on why it’s been such a long day. I’m a pretty good listener.”
He had a deliciously, well-defined mouth and Elise wanted to let her lips fall down on his. His voice rolled over her like a warm blanket, soft and comfortably deep. “The guy I’d been seeing ended things today. I got the text message at lunch.”
“Text message? You serious? Dumbass man.”
She tried not to smile but couldn’t help it. It was just a small smile, but nonetheless he answered her with one of his own and she swore her pussy melted in her jeans.
“No. I was the dumbass in this one. I really did know better and now, well, hindsight is twenty-twenty.” She shrugged and the bartender chose that moment to set another rum and Coke in front of her. The smell of the alcohol made her feel lightheaded. Whoa. She didn’t need to drink it, she could just inhale it. Instead of calling a cab, she would be sleeping on the floor beneath the stool she sat on.
“What did you know better about?”
“Trust me, you don’t want to know.” She took a small sip of her new drink. The rum burned going down and it felt good. Tattoo man would feel better, but…
“He was married.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s never good. Are you?”
“Am I what? Good? Yes.”
He grinned at her and heat flooded her cheeks. She had no idea where that teasing, suggestive comment had come from, but she liked it, liked that she made him grin. He was devastating to look at.
“Mmmm. I’ll give you a chance to prove it later. Are you married?”
She shook her head. “No, I’m not.”
“Then why waste your time on a man who is?”
She never would have if she’d known. Where were all the damn warning signs? “I didn’t know he was married. See, that’s me being the dumbass. He gave all his numbers, his address. There were never any restrictions on communication or seeing one another.” And there hadn’t been. She could call him whenever, though she always let him call her. She’d never been one who could chase a man, even one she was dating. She could see him every night, every day. He’d introduced her to people he worked with, friends he hung out with. There had been nothing that she could remember, and she’d been racking her brain all afternoon trying to figure out, trying to jog her memory, trying to find something that would have hinted that there was a Mrs. But there was nothing.
“When did you find out?”
“In his text message. He said he was going back to his wife.” And there it was all over again…the shock, the humiliation at having gotten involved with a married man without having realized it. There hadn’t even been a tan line on his ring finger. She’d looked. Going back obviously meant that he’d been separated from his wife, but still…
She lowered her head and laid her forehead on the bar. That twinge inside her gut, that complete lack of understanding at how her character judgments had become so flawed, gnawed at her. She used to be able to read people, guys especially, mainly because she watched more than she talked. What had happened that she couldn’t choose a guy anymore who was worth anything, who wasn’t a loser? What had happened to her once-upon-a-time, never-let-her-down intuition?
Tattoo Man leaned close, his breath whispered into her ear, fanned across her skin, and she fought not to shiver, fought not to lift her head and turn it just a fraction of an inch to her right. “Let me take care of you.”
And then there was hot and yummy next to her. Her intuition was screaming loud and clear regarding him.
Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t. You. Dare. Ask. “Take care of me how?” Dammit. She couldn’t help but ask though. No man had ever asked her to let him take care of her, to give herself in such a way as to be cared for. It didn’t matter right then what he wanted to do to her, how he wanted to take care of her. All that mattered was that he did.
(I’m thinking Elise’s first impression of Vinter is a very positive one, don’t you?)
Please enjoy first meeting snippets from the following awesome authors:
Megan Hart:Read in bed!
Mandy M Roth
Have a great weekend, y’all!
Welcome y’all! Pull up a seat.
One of my favorite things to do is cook. I love being in the kitchen most of the time. It’s not always and not every day that I want to make a mess and then have to clean it up, but for the most part, I’m in love with cooking and baking and all things kitchen. Because of that, it makes sense for me to have characters in my books who cook.
Today’s character is Vinter. In Simple Need, the morning after with Elise, he made her breakfast…waffles and bacon. Now, of course, Vinter being Vinter, he couldn’t help but be a little naughty with the syrup. Luckily, Elise was all too happy to oblige him. He wanted to make her feel that she was welcome, that he wanted her company for more than the hot sex they were almost constantly having. And well, there was also that need for sustenance 😉 . After all, they did work up a bit of an appetite.
I have a love affair with breakfast foods, especially sweet breakfast foods. Waffles, pancakes, sweet breads, muffins, doughnuts, etc… I don’t have these things often, but when I do, it’s like a party. I love going out for pancakes or pastries, but more than that, I love making them. Nothing better sometimes than the smell of cooking waffles and bacon and warm maple syrup. It has to be real maple syrup, too. Not the flavored syrup, but the real thing, usually in the glass bottles and more expensive than the stuff at eye level. Real syrup can be used sparingly too since it’s sweeter.
Since I cook so much, I try to do it in a healthy way. I love food blogs and am always perusing them, spending hours reading through them for new and interesting takes on recipes. I use a lot of natural sweeteners instead of white sugar. Whole wheat and whole grain flours instead of white unless necessary, like for cakes and such.
So, because our bad boy hero, Vinter, made Elise waffles, I thought I’d share with you one of my favorite waffle recipes from one of my most favorite food sites, Deliciously Organic.
Whole Wheat Waffles
Adapted from Christopher Kimball’s The Cook’s Bible
2 1/4 cups whole wheat pastry flour
2 tablespoons cornmeal
3/4 teaspoon sea salt
3/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 large eggs, separated
1 3/4 cups buttermilk
4 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted
Preheat waffle iron.Whisk flour, cornmeal, sea salt and baking soda in a mixing bowl. Whisk egg yolks with buttermilk and melted butter. Beat egg whites until they hold a stiff peak. Add egg yolk mixture slowly to dry ingredients while stirring with a spatula until just mixed together (there will still be lumps and maybe a few patches of flour). Gently fold in the egg whites until just mixed together. (It’s important not to over mix).
Using a ladle, spoon batter onto waffle iron and cook until deep brown. Serve immediately.
If you are cooking for a crowd, simply preheat the oven to 200°F and place a cooling rack on top of a baking sheet. When the waffles are cooked place them on the cooling rack/baking sheet and place in the oven to keep warm.
Now, this following bacon recipe is an indulgent recipe and I make it once in a blue moon and not to serve with waffles or pancakes since it’s so sweet already. It’s taken from the blog, Mommy’s Kitchen.
Brown Sugar Bacon
1/4 cup light brown sugar
1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon cayenne (optional)
1/2 pound thick-cut bacon, 8 slices
Preheat the oven to 375 degrees F. Mix brown sugar, cayenne, and black pepper together in a medium bowl. Add bacon and toss. Line a baking sheet with a wire rack and lay bacon on the rack. Pat any remanding spice mixture on the bacon. Put the baking sheet on the top rack of the oven and bake until crisp, about 15 minutes. Remove from the oven to a serving dish and let cool slightly before serving.
*Note: If using thick cut peppered bacon, omit the pepper in this recipe.
When I was looking for a waffle iron, I had the hardest time finding one that wasn’t for Belgian waffles. I wanted a regular thickness for waffles and I finally found one by Cuisinart for about $30. I love it.
Have you read about Vinter? If not, here’s the cover and blurb:
Vinter is not your typical businessman. Tattoos, piercings and not a suit and tie in sight. One-third owner of a bar and a tattoo parlor along with being a bassist in a band, Vinter comes and goes as he pleases. He likes his beer cold, his music hard and his women scorching hot. Until he’s knocked off his game by a suburban doll he can’t stop wanting.
Elise needs a change. In men. The buttoned-up businessmen she’s been dating leave a lot to be desired—in romance, in respect and most definitely in sex. A recent text message from her now ex-lover drives Elise into a popular bar on the outside of town, where she meets one of its owners. He’s just the kind of man she’s never had and definitely the kind she’s always fantasized about. Big, bad and oh so naughty.
Unexpected tenderness. Unimaginable lust. Being dumped has never felt so damn good.
Available as an ebook from: Ellora’s Cave, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, All Romance eBooks, Sony Reader, Kobo, Powell’s
I hope you’ve enjoyed this first installment of In the kitchen with… and that you’ll come back each Thursday to find out what and who is cooking…