Shopping for a CEO’s Fiancée by Julia Kent-What Happens In Vegas Stays in Vegas, With One Exception #MF #Sexy #Romantic #Comedy

Blurb:

We skipped right over the whole fiancée thing and went straight from girlfriend to wife.

At least, I think that’s what happened. I woke up after my brother’s Vegas wedding reception with my luscious girlfriend in bed with me. We’re both wearing wedding rings.

So is her coworker, Josh.

And our Vegas chauffeur, Geordi.

Who the hell am I married to?

Unraveling this mystery will be as difficult as figuring out why Amanda and I are having panic attacks over the thought of being husband and wife.

Or, whoever we’re actually married to.

Oh, ^%$#.

It’s true that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, with one exception:

If she’s my wife, we’ll make it work.

If she’s not?

I’ll make it happen.

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Get the 9th book in Julia Kent's New York Times bestselling romantic comedy series as Andrew and Amanda sort out their wild Vegas night...and the rest of their lives.


EXCERPT  

“We’re not—you don’t really—we can’t be—”

“Married?”

She laughs, but it’s a brittle sound. “Come on. We didn’t actually have a wedding last night.”

“We didn’t? You’re sure?” I perk up. Great. She remembers last night. I squeeze my eyes and try to recall something—anything—that happened after Declan and Shannon said their goodbyes at the reception last night.

“I’m, well, I mean...” Twisting in my arms, she looks at me with those big, wide, trusting eyes, her left hand splayed against my bare chest, digging in where the robe has separated. “You don’t remember what happened?”

My voice drops with uncertainty.

Hers goes up.

“No.”

“Quit joking.”

“Not joking.”

“We both can’t remember any part of last night?”

“When does your memory end?” I ask.

Mascara is streaked along the corner of her eye, and any makeup she wore last night currently resides somewhere on my skin or on the bedsheets. I can only imagine what I look like.
Amanda, though, is gorgeous. In my arms and looking at me with a perplexed expression, biting her lower lip while she flips through the filing cabinets of memory in her mind, and—

“I don’t know.”

I sit up. “You’re the fixer.”

“I know! But I remember saying goodnight to Shannon, hugging Declan, and then—poof! Nothing.”
Poof.

“That’s when my memory ends, too,” I say, my skin beginning to crawl. “I know one thing: we did not have a foursome.”

“And I soooooo did not sleep with Josh. He’s gay. The man can’t handle watching a birth video. A real-life vagina would send him into cardiac arrest.”

“I know my heart pounds whenever I see yours,” I whisper. She gives me a reluctant smile, in spite of her hangover.

“That was baaaaaad,” she groans.

“All signs point to the sex question being put to rest. Worst case, all we did was sleep with each other,” I note.

“Worst case? Buddy, sleeping with me is best case. Best case. Always best.”

That was an unfortunate choice of words on my part. Before I can do damage control, she speaks.

“What if we are?” she hisses.

“Are what?”

Her eyes dart to mine.

“Married.”

--

Sexy Excerpt

She has this sound she makes when she’s about to come. We all do. Everyone has a sex tell. If you think you don’t, you’re wrong. Amanda’s tell transmits a signal to my brain that says Congratulations.

Achievement unlocked.

Except it’s not the achievement you think. Not a sex goal. Those are easy. Anyone can do that with the right skill and enough alcohol.

This is love. Complete release and abandon with someone you trust so deeply, you take the leap of faith that they’ll catch you.

You can only catch the tell if you have that kind of love.

“Andrew,” she says in a voice reserved for when we’re between the sheets. “Andrew.” Her hand is threaded in my hair and as I rise up, I taste the silky smoothness of her skin, which unfolds before me like a perfect, lush valley, hills and curves, rolling sweetness and a place of discovery. No woman captivates me like Amanda, and when our eyes meet and I slip into her, the way her head tips back and her throat begs for a kiss makes me offer up my tell.

It’s the sound of gratitude. I’m not grateful for sex. I’m grateful for having her. The balcony doors are open and a massive breeze pushes the curtains in, the sound of billowing fabric catching my ears as the rush of ocean air chills my back. The sunlight in the room dims suddenly, making the room surreal, as if we’re in the eye of a storm and chaos is about to be unleashed.

Which is apt.

She’s so damn beautiful under me, her hands on my back, my shoulders, my ribs, just touching me with a possession that fires my soul. Her hair tickles her shoulders and it’s thick and tousled, makeup long gone, her lips bright red from long kisses all night. Those impossibly-big eyes peer up at me and make me stop breathing, though I keep moving, making love to her with long strokes like a clock tower bell calling out the hour, the slow, sonorous beat designed to mark time.

Now.

Now.

Now.

Now.

I dip my head down to take one nipple and it tastes like salt and velvet, like my fingerprints and her secrets. She arches up, a simple gesture that asks for more, and I’m grateful again. Fire courses through me, sweat making the slick friction between our skin even easier, the glide of body against body allowing for the insatiable build-up between us sparked by each stroke.

Amanda reaches up, one hand on my ass, her fingertips digging into me, her mouth on mine, tongue searching for more connection. We’re as close as two bodies can get, her hands clinging to me, her breasts smashed against my chest, and I know this tell, too. When she tightens her hold and her touch becomes damn near frantic, she’s about to come, and I pause. Just for a second, just long enough to honor what’s inside me without interrupting what she needs.

Because in that pause, I feel all the emotions at once, thousands of feelings connected to her sighs, our kisses, the strokes and caresses, the push of being in her, the warm softness of being enveloped, the wet moans and worshipful sighs and eager urgency that all rolls into a whirlwind of energy and emotion that is the tornado within.

And then we roar together.

A crack of lightning makes us both startle and jump, the rhythm interrupted, the cacophony of a sudden, explosive rainstorm outside changing the air, ozone and salt on the tip of my tongue, replacing the taste of her from moments ago.

“You timed that, didn’t you?” she says, laughing under me, the push of muscle nearly evacuating me from her body, but we shift, holding closer, and I stay inside her.

The pounding rain makes it hard to hear. She reaches up and pushes the hair from my forehead using the same hand that was in those strands moments ago, urging me.

“Even I can’t orchestrate that,” I say with a laugh, picking up the rhythm, her eyes closing, breath quickening. We’ve lost what we had but we’ll find it again.

That’s the beauty of knowing.

You’ll always find each other again.

My throat tightens as we crest together, caught up in the crazy storm of arousal and climax, of pleasure and desire, of the mix of the squall outside and the tornado within, whirling and whirling until there is no more Amanda, no more Andrew, just a tight clinging to each other that comes from certainty. From trust.

From some feeling deeper than love, threaded together by those thousands of emotions I felt in that single pause.

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GP: http://bit.ly/1TA3zp4

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About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge, and new adult books that push contemporary boundaries. From billionaires to BBWs to rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every book she writes, but unlike Trevor from Random Acts of Crazy, she has never kissed a chicken. She loves to hear from her readers by email at julia@jkentauthor.com

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The Tutor by KD Grace- He Seeks Out Her Advice Incognito, The Results Are Too Hot To Handle- #Eroticromance #MF #Contemporary

Losing our Senses

We have five senses. We use them all without thinking, but as a writer, I’ve always been intrigued by what it would be like to live without one – one that we use most often. If you’ve read The Initiation of Ms. Holly, then you know the story hinges on not being able to see the face of a lover. In To Rome with Lust, I concentrated on bringing the sense of smell to the forefront to the point of it being nearly a curse.

In The Tutor, I take away the one sense that we never lose, the one we most rely on in our everyday life. I take away the sense of touch. Sculptor, Lex Valentine is severely haphephobic -- not being able to touch anyone else or allow himself to be touched. Within that context, I wanted to explore intimacy and how it would develop – if it even could develop – without the aid of human contact.

Blurb:

Struggling writer, Kelly Blake has a secret life as a sex tutor. Celebrated sculptor and recluse, Alexander ‘Lex’ Valentine, can’t stand to be touched. When he seeks out Kelly’s advice incognito, the results are too hot to handle. When Kelly terminates their sessions due to what she considers her unprofessional behavior, Lex takes a huge risk, revealing his identity to her at a gala exhibition, his first ever public appearance. When Kelly helps the severely haphephobic Lex escape the grope of reporters and paparazzi, rumors fly that the two are engaged, rumors encouraged by well-meaning friends and colleagues.

The press feeding frenzy forces Kelly into hiding at Lex’s mansion where he convinces her to be his private tutor just until the press loses interest, and she can go back home. They discover quickly that touch is not essential for sizzling, pulse-pounding intimacy. But intimacy must survive the secrets uncovered as their sessions become more and more personal.


Excerpt

For a long moment they sat in silence again, both wrapped in matching terry robes, both looking slightly worse for the wear. He was okay with that. He could have sat there with her all night, but she broke the spell. “Lex, you’re exhausted. Do you think you could try to get some more sleep?”

“Stay with me.” The words were out before he could stop them. “If you stay with me, I can sleep.”

She stood and looked back at his bed and, for a dreadful moment, he though she was going to say no.

“All right then, but your bed’s a train wreck. Why don’t you come to mine? It’s virtually undreamed in tonight. Besides I only allow good dreams in my bed.” She nodded to the open French doors and gave him an encouraging smile.

Back in the Meadowlark Suite she went to work on their sleeping arrangements, putting a barrier of pillows down the middle between them. It was a huge bed, just like his, so there was still lots of room.

“There are enough cushions and pillows and throws for a herd of elephants to have a slumber party,” she said. “I don’t move much when I sleep, but this will make sure that I don’t accidentally touch you or you me.”

She pulled back the covers and nodded to the space.

“Get comfy and I’ll tuck you in.”

He did as she asked, wishing desperately that they could lose the pillow barrier and he could take her in his arms and hold her all night and wake up with her still pressed against him. The thought made his chest ache with longing, but that she was here, that she was next to him, sleeping close, that would do. That was so much better than anything he’s ever been able to imagine for himself.

When she was settled in on the other side of the pillow barrier, he couldn’t keep from smiling. She was in his bed, well technically it was his bed, wasn’t it? She wore his engagement ring, and she did! She still wore it. She hadn’t taken it off. At least for the moment he could almost imagine the two of them as a normal couple climbing into their bed together after a hard day, lying close to each other before they both drifted off to sleep. What must that feel like? Would he ever know? If he ever did, at this moment he couldn’t imagine anyone he’d rather share his bed with than Kelly Blake.

And just before he drifted off to sleep, he remembered that she had found him, she had followed him and come searching for him, both the other night in the sculpture garden and tonight. She had rescued him from the dream world and she hadn’t been repulsed by his neediness. She had stayed with him.

* * *

Kelly woke with a pillow tossed carelessly over her face and a heavy warm weight on her body. It was only when she moved slightly in an effort to dislodge whatever it was that she realized the heavy weight was Lex Valentine.

She froze, heart summersaulting in her chest, right exactly where his head rested, dark hair tickling her chin. All around them she could see nothing but mounds of pillows, but there were none between them. There was nothing between them. His head lay between her breasts with one hand cupping her. One well-muscled leg was thrown over her body just above her hip, which his morning erection prodded enthusiastically.

What the hell should she do? If he woke up like this, he would pass out or throw up or both, at the very least he would have a panic attack, but she hadn’t moved. He had found his way to her in his sleep, and he clung to her like he would a lover. Like he would a lover! That thought focused her enough that she made an effort to relax. It was human contact. The cost, from what she had seen yesterday -- at least between the two of them -- the cost was worth paying. His unconscious had known exactly what he needed, what he desired. So why not let his unconscious take care of the need he couldn’t yet take care of consciously. Did she believe that he would be able to at some point? She desperately wanted to believe that, and she wanted to be there when it happened. She wanted to be the one he took consciously into his arms.

His thumb brushed her nipple and she battled to hold still in the bed as it stiffened and rose against his stroking. The satin hardness of his erection surged where it pressed trapped between her hip and his body, and he began to shift and slide against her. She swallowed back a moan, feeling the rush of heat down low where her legs were spread. Had she slept that way, or was it an unconscious response to the nearness of him and his obvious need of her. She couldn’t help it, she wriggled slightly beneath him until she was a little more open and the rhythmic clench and release, clench and release, of her pelvic muscles mirrored his slid and shift, slide and shift.

He squirmed and moaned and she froze, for a moment fearing he was waking up and once again at a loss as to what she should do to make it easier for him. But instead of waking up, he shifted more fully onto her until he was almost, but on quite on top of her. His cock pressed up against the inside of her thigh, and still he shifted and slid and moaned softly and, God help her, she found herself wriggling and grinding in an effort to get more fully beneath his body, in an effort the get him inside her. Jesus, she wanted him inside her! She wanted him inside her like she’d never wanted anything as his fingers curled around her breast kneading in rhythm to his shifting, in rhythm to the undulation of her hips.

Then he took his hand away and she all but cried out in her frustration, catching herself just before there was any sound other than a heavy intake of breath. But there was very little time to dwell on the absence of his hand as he moved splayed fingers down the flat of her belly and wriggled his way into the top of her panties, there he rested his hand only for a moment on her pubic curls and she arched against it, effectively willing him to seek out the place where she needed to be touched. And thank fuck, he did! He found that place, and memories of the slippery pear half flashed through her head as he carefully, but urgently fingered her open and began to stroke and probe.

This was insane. He was asleep. She absolutely had to wake him before it was too late. If he woke up like this he’d be embarrassed as well as panicked. If he woke up like this he would think she was taking advantage, which she was. And then he found her clitoris, and she held her breath and dug her heels into the mattress to keep from moving as he circled her -- first with his thumb and then with two fingers slick with her own lust. Then he found her rhythm and he thrust and scissored, circled and probed, exactly as she had told him she liked it, as she had demonstrated on the pear.

There was nothing she could do but let him touch her, let the feel of him wash over her in waves, the incredible sensation of being caressed so intimately by Lex Valentine. Her haze of arousal was sharply punctuated by his moans and grunts, not the sounds of distress, but the sounds of a man about to ejaculate. Though her own shifting and rocking had become almost entirely internal, she was there with him, right on the edge as he stroked and touched and tweaked. Christ, how could anything feel better than this? He stopped breathing. His whole body was one tightly clenched muscle, the shifting and sliding had become outright thrusting, and the moans and grunts had escalated to guttural growls.

At some point, she didn’t know when it had happened, she grabbed onto the headboard to keep back the overpowering urge to touch him, to take him by the wrist and hold his hand down where she needed it, to grab him by the cock and stroke him until he came, or even better to guide his erection down between her legs where she wanted him most of all. But before there was time to think about it, he grunted, then grunted again, and she felt the warm wet of his release against her thigh. That was enough to send her over the edge. Try though she might, she couldn’t lie still, and Lex woke up.

“Kelly? Fuck!” His words were followed by a hard thud and a barely swallowed string of curses as he rolled off onto the floor.

“Christ, Lex, are you all right? Are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t know what to do. I should have woke you up.”

“You did wake me up,” he managed between gasps for breath. “Christ, woman, no one has ever woken me up like that before.” He groaned and rolled onto his side.

“Are you okay?”

“Never better.” He said with a soft laugh that sounded somewhat painful. “I’ll be even better still if I can get the room to stop spinning. For a long moment there was no sound but the sound of his breathing. She wasn’t breathing at all, though she desperately needed to. She was too busy trying to listen to him, to make sure he was okay.

At last he spoke. “Did I just … Did we just.”

She couldn’t help the giddy little laugh. “Your fingers aren’t sticky from fondling canned pears, big boy, and I’m gonna need clean sheets.”

--

Buy Links

Totally Bound Publishing: https://www.totallybound.com/book/the-tutor 
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2bV5Wak 
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2bBEwX9 

Surprising The Alpha by Elodie Parkes-He Gazed Into Her Eyes And Saw Desire And Pure Sexual Need #Erotic #Shifters #MF #Romance

Thank you for inviting me to your lovely blog today to talk about my new release with Siren Publishing, ‘Surprising the Alpha’, an erotic, paranormal romance. 

Blurb

The town is dying after a new highway takes its previous through traffic and custom away from shops, cafes, the bars and tourist attractions. The Venn wolf-shifter pack and alpha, Joshua Venn, are suffering. They’ve lived happily in the town as humans and like it, but now they’re threatened with slinking back to a woodland den with their tails between their legs.

One day Dani Cruz and her brother Jason hit town. They’re entrepreneurs whose business is urban regeneration and they intend to save this town. Only one person resents their arrival, alpha wolf-shifter Joshua. Will his determination to be the only one who saves his pack drive the town to ruin? Or will something happen that changes his life forever?

Joshua Venn is looking for answers. It’s one hot summer and someone hides a secret.
This alpha is in for more than one surprise.

About the story:

Surprising the Alpha was originally written for an anthology, but then ultimately developed into a full-length story, and the first in ‘The Venn Pack in Love’ series.

Joshua Venn is particularly dear to me as a character. He’s sexy, an alpha, but vulnerable, and as he falls in love with Dani Cruz, the heroine, he has to accept he’s not the big bad alpha he hoped to be.
We get a glimpse of the whole Venn pack and meet the character who features in the second Venn Pack story, an erotic paranormal suspense, ‘Wolf Bond’.

I wanted this wolf-shifter pack to be different and have none of the sometimes hackneyed
wolf-lore found in this type of story. The series has a third story already in the pipeline and each story features one of the pack, in love, of course. (Smiles)

Read an excerpt:

Her feminine perfume surrounded him. Her heartbeat echoed in his ears. Her golden-green eyes flashed as she spoke. Her long hair flicked around her shoulders and swept the tops of her pretty arms as she spoke. Her mouth enticed him. The way her bottom lip stuck out as she stared up at him bravely sent lust speeding through him. Hardly knowing what he was doing, he grabbed her face and sank his mouth on hers. The second he kissed her every muscle in his tightly strung body relaxed.
Soft lips parted under his. Her delicate hands slipped across his chest to hold him tight.

He floated in sensation. His cock hardened deliciously. With a low growl, he let her go and stepped away, shocked not only at his needs, but also at her passionate response.

With a soft sound, Dani followed to be close to him again. “What did you think of my offer to you?”
Joshua’s hackles rose. He pushed her away, saw her unbalance, and caught her. He crushed her to his body.

She molded to him and tilted her face to his.

Joshua gazed into her eyes and saw desire, pure sexual need. His mind emptied of everything but the softness of her ass cupped in his hand. He rammed his erection against her, a low growl escaping before he kissed her so hard she whimpered. Joshua tore her shirt off, sucking her neck hungrily.

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Buy Link- http://www.bookstrand.com/surprising-the-alpha

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About Elodie:

Elodie Parkes writes romance, erotic, contemporary, and often with a twist of mystery, paranormal, fantasy, or suspense. Her books are always steamy. Her tag is, “Cool stories: Hot love scenes.”

Elodie currently lives in rural Canterbury with her two dogs. She works in an antique shop by day and writes at night, loving the cloak of silent darkness that descends on the rural countryside around her home.

Elodie only ever wears boots (yes, even in summer). She has three bachelor degrees because she couldn’t make up her mind what she wanted to do, and even then, she got two Grad Dips in different subjects, naughty Elodie. Elodie loves: music (her nickname at work is Melody Elodie because she’s often singing), the countryside, animals, gorgeous men, technology, art, garter belts and stockings, and potatoes—in any order.

Sated by Lucy Felthouse- Sex With A Vampire Is Everything You’d Expect It To Be Now Add One More- #Erotic #MFM #Romance #Paranormal

A human, a vampire and a werewolf walked into a bar. Sexy is what happens next.

Blurb:

Since getting together with her vampire boyfriend, Ace, Aneesa is enjoying a sex life she could never have with a human. Ace has skill, strength, stamina…and is massively adventurous. Aneesa is checking things off her sexual bucket list at a rate of knots. However, she hasn’t even come close to experiencing the ultimate item on her list. So when Ace beats her to it, proposing a threesome with his werewolf friend, Barton, Aneesa’s definitely up for it.

Barton is attractive, smart and sexy—almost too good to be true, in fact. Aneesa decides not to jump straight into things, but makes sure it’s what she truly wants. However, it turns out Barton’s not so easily dissuaded.

Will Aneesa get the ultimate erotic experience she’s desired for so long? Will she be truly sated, or is the plan doomed to failure?

*****

Excerpt:

A human, a vampire and a werewolf walked into a bar. Sounds like the start of a bad joke. I can assure you it isn’t. And telling you that, actually, the human and the vampire walked into the bar together, and found the werewolf already there, probably doesn’t make it sound any better. Well tough, because that’s the way it went down.

Ace and I met at a Halloween fancy dress party. I know, I know—cliché of clichés. And yes, he was dressed as a vampire—Albeit a horrendously exaggerated one—all slicked-back hair, über pale skin and visible fangs. In real life, he actually looks no different to you or I. Okay, he is a bit pale. But at the time, I’d laughed at him and asked if he thought vampires weren’t a bit overdone—it was when Twilight was at the height of its popularity—all angsty teens and stalkerish behavior.

He’d laughed right back, a joyous, melodious sound that had heat pooling in my groin—then as suddenly as it had arrived, his mirth disappeared. Then he’d said, “Overdone or not, we’re here to stay. And I don’t fucking sparkle.”

My heart had been pounding, and my mouth had gone dry. Somehow, I’d known he wasn’t joking. And, although my conscious brain had shut down, my subconscious had had my back, because I’d heard myself say, “Well, thank fuck for that, because I’ve never been a fan of glitter.”

He’d laughed again, the sound tugging at my very core. And—apologies for yet another cliché—we’ve been together ever since.

Several years later and we’re still as madly in love as ever, and still fucking like rabbits. Sex with a vampire is everything you’d expect it to be—energetic, powerful, finessed, mind-blowing and packed with stamina. Providing you can keep up, that is.

In addition to our unquenchable lust for each other, Ace and I have engaged in bondage, sex toys, spanking, anal, pegging—almost an A to Z of things to do in bed. Some we’ve tried and discarded, others have been a regular part of our sexual repertoire.

And yet, our latest adventure was the most exciting yet. You see, after mine and Ace’s initial meeting, I was given an almighty education in everything it meant to be a vampire. Myths were dispelled, other beliefs were confirmed—he definitely didn’t sparkle—and yet more things I’d never even thought of were seared into my brain.

So when Ace announced he had a friend who was a werewolf, I didn’t even bat an eyelid. It was the follow up information that surprised me.

“He wants to what?” The tone of my voice by the end of the sentence was so high that probably only dogs could hear me. And yet it was genuine surprise, rather than disapproval, that fuelled my reaction.

Raising his eyebrows, Ace gave me that sexy smirk that always gets my blood pounding through my veins and my pussy aching to be filled. “You heard me, Aneesa. My friend Barton would like to screw you. With me present, of course, and actively taking part.”

“A th-threesome?” I stumbled over the word—not because I was horrified. Quite the opposite, in fact. Being fucked by two hot guys at once had long been on my sexual bucket list—a list that, since meeting Ace, had had items checked off it at a rate of knots. I was going to have to start thinking of some more shit to put on it. I was way too young to have completed my bucket list—sexual or not—for Christ’s sake!

*****

Buy links: http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/published-works/sated/ 
Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25950736-sated 



Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over 100 publications to her name, with many more in the pipeline. These include several editions of Best Bondage Erotica, Best Women's Erotica 2013 and Best Erotic Romance 2014. Another string to her bow is editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies, and also edits for a small publishing house.

She owns Erotica For All, is book editor for Cliterati, and is one-eighth of The Brit Babes. Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk. Join her on Facebook and Twitter, and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9