Sunday Snog

For today's Sunday Snog, I'm including an excerpt from "Intimate Friends", on sale now at Evernight Publishing:

“I'm sorry,” she mumbled.

“For what?”

“I don't know.” She didn't know.

“Emma,” he moved closer, and she felt her heart begin to
flutter, from nerves, from embarrassment, from the memory of what
they'd done the night before. He reached to brush her hair behind her
ear. The touch of his fingers against her cheek sparked the memory of
those same fingers, teasing her nipples, grazing down her ribcage,
slipping between her legs, then reaching up to paint her mouth with
her own slick wetness. Holy crap. She needed to go to class.

“Noah, I've got to go. So do you. We're late.”

He nodded slowly. “Okay.” He squeezed her shoulder gently,
then leaned forward until his lips were almost touching her ear. “But
for what it's worth...I'm not sorry.” And then he turned his head and
kissed her. It was a dirty trick, right in the middle of the break room,
where anyone could walk in. But she couldn't help kissing him back,
smelling his scent, familiar as always, but now somehow new--it
made her shiver. But when she finally leaned into him, to steady
herself, to let him steady her, he wrapped his hands around her upper
arms and moved her back, just an inch. He placed one final,
close-mouthed kiss on her primed lips. “Have a nice class, Emma.”
Then he turned and walked away.

She opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. Then opened and closed it again. Giving up, she crossed her arms, rubbing the skin that Noah had just touched. And she was ten minutes late for class.

_____________________________

Be sure to check out all the Sunday Snogs at:

http://www.victoriablisse.co.uk/sunday-snog/

Excerpt--"High School Reunion"

Coming soon from Breathless Press:

 “You go first,” Derek said, rolling his head towards her face. They were laying on her bed, fully dressed. Ava lounged with her shoulders on a pillow, while Derek's body made a T across the mattress, his head resting on her stomach.
 “Okay...let's see...when did I first realize it was over with Brian...” She let out a slow breath. “I guess when he called me into his office one afternoon and told me he wanted me to go to Miami for a business trip on my birthday. When I reminded him we had plans that evening, he gave me this impatient, constipated look and said 'Ava, you have a birthday every year. What's the big deal?'”
 “He really said that?” Derek laughed.
 “Yes, he was so romantic. For Valentine's Day one year he bought me a blender. He told me I should start drinking protein shakes, because my abs were getting flabby.”
 “Wow.”
 “Yeah.”
 “I can't believe you let him get away.”
 “I know, right?” She reached down to play with the unruly curls framing his forehead. “Your turn.”
 “Oh, mine's easy. That would be the night I walked in on her and her personal trainer, doing naked lunges under the sheets.”
 “She cheated on you?” Ava's voice was incredulous. “God, Derek, I'm so sorry. That must have been horrible!”
 “Well, it was and it wasn't. I mean, neither of us was happy. In a way it just made things easier. We could blame the whole divorce on her cheating, instead of admitting to ourselves that we never should have gotten married in the first place.”
 “I bet your parents were upset,” Ava said in a tight voice.
 “Yeah, they loved Beth. They kept begging me to give her another chance. Can you imagine? Like, sure, she betrayed me, but if I divorced her, where would we ever find a fourth for tennis?”
 They were silent for a moment, until Ava spoke quietly. “I just can't believe she cheated on you.”
 “Well, who else would she cheat on, the UPS guy?”
 “No, I mean...well, you know what I mean. You're perfect. I just don't get it.”
 “I'm not perfect, Ava.”
 “You are, you're just too perfectly humble to admit it. Your gorgeous, and smart, and rich...”
 “I'm not rich, my parents are rich.” He lifted his head from her stomach and sat up.
 “Oh, that is so something rich people say!”
 “Ava, don't make me out to be perfect,” he said. “Perfect people don't get to make mistakes, or be in a bad mood, or forget to put the toilet seat down.”
 “You leave the toilet seat up?”
 “It's happened. I'm not proud of it.”
 “Then I take it all back. You're weak and flawed.”
 “I am,” he murmured, bending over her, pulling up her blouse and placing his lips on the smooth skin below her belly button.
 “What are you doing?” she asked, cupping the back of his head with her palm.
 “Kissing your flabby abs.”

Squee--I love new covers

Here's the cover from my upcoming release with Secret Cravings Publishing, "Making Summer Last." It's part of their Weekend Getaway Series, and is scheduled for release on October 8th.

Six Sentence...Monday?

Sorry, I couldn't get on blogger yesterday, so here is my tardy installment of Six Sentence Sunday. Also, since it's late, I'm going more than six sentences. So sue me, I've never been good with rules.

From my latest WIP, An Unexpected Love:

“God, Lexi, you feel so good. I've never felt like this.” He leaned down to kiss my nipple through the silk of my bra. He teased it with his teeth. How did he know how much I loved that?

“Meh...it was passable.” I leaned my head back against the file cabinet and grinned.

“Better than with that asshole Brogan,” he growled.

“He was mediocre. With you it was passable.”

“Bullshit. You never came so hard. You know it. Admit it.” Dan was teasing me. I giggled, and believe me, I am not a girl who giggles.

“Dan, I scratched a highway map on your back. You might need a tetanus shot. It was indescribably good.” He gave me a look that was full of male ego, and I laughed, and kissed his forehead.

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“It was great sex!” I yelled, feigning exasperation.

“No, not that.”

“Then what?”

“You know what.”

“Oh Dan,” I sighed, cupping his face in my hands. “I love you more than you'll ever know.”

We have a Winner!

The winner of Evernight Publishing's blog hop giveaway at my site is Barbara Hightower! Thanks for following, Barbara! You've won a pdf copy of my upcoming release, "Intimate Friends".

I'll be in contact soon with your download--thanks to everyone for participating!

Happy Birthday, Total-E-Bound!

It's Total-e-Bound's birthday, and they are celebrating by giving readers 25% off purchases on July 8th! You know you wanna go over there and buy a copy of Turn To You. So just go ahead. I'll wait.

From my current, untitled WIP

     “Sorry,” I said. “My grandmother taught me to cook. She was a bit of a germaphobe. 'Wash your hands, you'll get a stomachache,' she'd say. That and 'Don't eat bananas after five o-clock.' Oh, and 'If your lips itch, it means you want to be kissed.'”
     Dan stopped drying his hands on the dishtowel. “How do your lips feel?” He was right behind me. I turned around, expecting to see a teasing gleam in his eyes, but they weren't teasing. At all.
     “They might be a little itchy,” I whispered. He was so close. He smelled really, really good. I followed the nervous dip of his Adams apple, then reached up and pressed my lips to his cheek.
     “Lexi,” he breathed.
     “Kiss me.” He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. That wasn't what I meant.
     “Dan...”
     He opened his mouth to speak, but words didn't come.
     “What?” I prompted.
     “If I kiss you, I'll never stop.” I took a stuttering breath as he traced the curve of my jaw with his finger. His eyes were so dark—they went right through me. I reached for his hand and placed it on my cheek.
     That touch, or something in my eyes, must have released whatever was left of his reticence, because suddenly I was in his arms, his embrace tight, his lips hot and demanding on mine. Our mouths opened at the same time, as if by agreement, and we wrestled each other with our tongues. His had a sharp, frantic taste, and it made me gasp with pleasure.
     His lips still on mine, he began to drag me from the kitchen. I reached blindly for the stove, twisting off the burner under the saucepan so I didn't torch the place.
     “Hmph,” he grunted against my mouth, congratulating me on my display of fire safety. We made it to the couch, and I shoved his shirt up, high on his chest. My hands explored the contours of his body, caressing the sexy spattering of dark curls, tiny c's traveling down his stomach. He was trim and hard, his shoulders broad, hips narrow, as if he spent his days doing gymnastics instead of writing market analyses. He growled low in his throat as I scraped my nails across his ribcage.
     As I moved closer to his waistband, he diverted me, pushing me down and kissing my cheeks and throat. Then he laced my fingers between his and plucked soft, wet kisses from my lips. There was no more crazed heat between us, just a slow, steady burn. And although part of me wanted to sit up and climb him like a tree, the other, softer part never wanted this sweet embrace to end. We kissed for so long I lost track of time, and soon all that existed was Dan, enveloping me with his warm, gentle mouth. At some point I must have started to cry, because he finally stopped and caught a tear on the side of my face with his thumb.
     “Don't cry.”
     “I'm not. Am I?” And then I let out a choked sob, answering my own question.
     “I'm sorry,” he said as he sat up. “I shouldn't have started this.”