Teaser Tuesday
The bonus story to If Only’s Only for the Moment, 𝗢𝗡𝗟𝗬 𝗜𝗙 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬, is coming to my newsletter on NOVEMBER 15TH! Have you signed up yet? You can only read Nick and Grace if you’re on my list, so sign up here: https://www.subscribepage.com/n9q8y6 . And in the meantime, here’s a refresher on the beginning of their story!
Nick & Grace: The Beginning
Nick held his breath as he walked through the door of the mansion, every sense straining, wanting, needing to see the woman he’d traveled across the world just to meet. His job was to protect his friend and client, Isaac Anschau, from harm, but that wasn’t why he’d dropped to his knees and given thanks when Isaac told him they were visiting Australia. No, it had all been about Grace.
His Grace.
“What in the world happened to you?”
Nick’s gut tightened at the lyrical voice even though it wasn’t directed at him. He knew that voice, had heard it hundreds of times over the phone, had replayed the memories in his dreams. His Grace.
But it was Isaac who gathered Grace’s petite frame into his arms, blocking Nick from getting a proper look. “How you doing, Grace?”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
Nick recognized the stubborn tone too. When she wanted something, Grace could be as stubborn as a dog with a bone. That was exactly how she’d gotten her lifelong friend back to his home country when he’d refused to visit for five years.
“Later, okay?” Isaac answered, releasing Grace. Still blocking Nick’s view.
Move the fuck out of the way, boss.
Isaac did, shifting to the side to introduce his girlfriend, Kennedy O’Connell. And giving Nick his first glimpse of Grace in person. He’d known from pictures that she was petite, maybe a handful of inches over five feet. Much, much smaller than his six-four. But he hadn’t realized how delicate she would be, like a fairy. Or, with the mischief sparkling in those eyes as she bantered with Isaac, a wood nymph. Something with wings.
How would she fit in his arms? Beneath him? He broke out in a sweat just thinking about it.
Grace directed Isaac to his bedroom so he could get out of his wet clothes. “Just don’t linger.”
Nick couldn’t help it; a snort escaped. “If Ken is going with him, the lingering is guaranteed.”
At the sound of his voice, Grace leaned a bit to see around Isaac, her gaze colliding with Nick’s—and kicking every last bit of breath out of his lungs.
A pink flush crept up her cheeks. “Nick.”
He grinned. “In the flesh. Finally.”
And the wait, as much as it had itched under his skin for far too long, had definitely been worth it. Grace was a fucking dream standing before him, just like he’d known she would be. Years he’d dreamed about her, imagining what it would be like to be in the same room, to see her, hold her. Right now, this moment—his dreams hadn’t even come close.
He was vaguely aware of Isaac and Kennedy heading upstairs. Very vaguely. Every ounce of attention was centered on the woman in front of him, the shy awareness in her eyes, the way she gripped her hands in front of her as if she was holding herself back. He didn’t want her to hold back. He opened his arms. “Come here, angel.”
The next moment he was pulling her against him—and oh God, did she feel good. When she whispered his name, he knew she felt it too.
Her body molded to his perfectly, and he gave himself a moment to revel in the feel of her in his arms. When things south started to revel a bit too much, he stepped back. They had time. He had time to give her, to prove he was who she needed. By the time he got on a plane to escort Isaac back to the States, she would be his and they’d be planning the future.
“Show me to my room?” he asked. If his voice was a little rough, well, he couldn’t help it. Grace did that to him.
Grace stared up at him a moment, emotion swirling in her eyes. “Aren’t you going to kiss me, Nick?”
A jolt shot through him, half surprise, half lust. “What?”
The ring of Grace’s laughter sent a flutter through his chest, right where she laid her palm. Warmth seeped into him at her touch.
“I know you, Nick. We may not have met in person, but I know you. Being all chivalrous and ‘give her some time.’” She shook her head, the scent of sun and coconut rising from her hair to fill his senses. “Stop protecting me. I’ve waited too long for this moment.”
Nick closed his eye tight. How could he have ever believed that Grace would let him ease her into anything? A chuckle escaped as he opened his eyes to stare down into her gorgeous blue gaze. “You never do anything halfway, do you?”
“Me?” Grace moved closer, her body brushing his again, setting his senses on fire. “I should bloody well hope not.”
Spearing his fingers into the silky fall of her hair, he cradled her head, tilting it at just the right angle. Grace went up on her toes, anticipation lighting her eyes and quickening her breath. And as Nick lowered his head, his lips meeting hers, he knew without a doubt, just as he’d known everything else when it came to Grace, that this would be the last first kiss he would ever have.
*
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Teaser Tuesday: Only for the Weekend
This Teaser Tuesday is a brand-new release: ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is hot off the presses for only 99 cents. Find out how Vincent and Jane start their weekend together, and then grab your copy to read the rest of this short, sexy story!
This Teaser Tuesday is a brand-new release: ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is hot off the presses for only 99 cents. Find out how Vincent and Jane start their weekend together, and then grab your copy to read the rest of this short, sexy story!
~ ~ * ~ ~
The quiet snick of the door opening quickened his heartbeat. He knew what Jane saw as she walked in—a dark, still room, a single recessed light illuminating the space before a large seating area. Shadowed corners. Emptiness. She knew she was meeting him here, but not that he was already waiting in the room.
He took the time to look her over, holding back the breath that threatened to escape too loudly as he did so. She was as lovely as he remembered. Shoulder-length blonde hair curled around her head, making his fingers twitch with the need to twine the soft strands around them. Her eyes were dark in the dim light, a contrast to those flirty curls and a reflection of the seriousness of her soul. Full pink lips trembled with nerves, as did the hands currently clasped tightly together in front of her. Anticipation swelled in his chest. He would soothe those nerves, but not yet; sometimes a little fear could go a long way with a sub.
Lovely wasn’t the word to describe her body. Sexy, definitely. Earth-shattering. His heart beat triple time in his throat as his gaze moved over her. A tight-fitting white button-down, top buttons open to reveal the upper swell of her round breasts. A short, curves-skimming black skirt. As she turned to close the door behind her, he glimpsed a thin band of lace through a small slit up the back. Only the briefest hint, but blood pooled in his groin immediately at the sight of her stockings, the old-fashioned kind that attached to garters and a garter belt. So like Jane—shy and yet intensely provocative, all at once. He couldn’t fucking wait to see those pale thighs framed by the sexiest garment a woman could ever put on her body.
With a stern reminder to his anatomy that sex wasn’t in the cards, at least not for him—a reminder his body laughed at—he shifted his weight, bringing him barely into the edge of the light. “Jane.”
He kept his voice low, but still she startled. The trembling in her hands increased. She tugged her full bottom lip between her teeth in a way that made him want to bite as well, but not yet. He waited, instead, forcing control so that she could look her fill.
Her gaze took in his half mask first, a piece of soft black fabric covering the top half of his face and head, leaving everything but his eyes and jaw and ears a mystery. Even most of his hair was covered, and what could be seen at the back of his head hopefully didn’t shine too brilliantly red in the shadowed room. She measured the width of his shoulders, his height. Her nostrils flared as if trying to breathe him in, to determine who he was, whether or not she was safe, by scent alone.
She didn’t speak. Good.
“Come in,” he told her.
A hesitant “Yes, Sir” accompanied her steps farther into the light. The yellow glow lit a fire in her hair as she tucked her chin, dropping her gaze to the vicinity of his boots. The Dom in him purred its approval.
“Kneel for me, Jane.”
There was no hesitation this time. With a feminine grace rare in a first-time sub, she sank to her knees. Head still bowed, knees parted just enough to show off the lace atop her stockings, hands at the small of her back.
His gut clenched. She’d been practicing. For him.
Logically he knew it hadn’t been for him personally. She didn’t know the masked Dom before her was the man she’d propositioned as a teenager. She only knew the mask hid a Dom. But telling himself that didn’t stop the flare of possession and satisfaction burning its way through his chest.
Ignoring the dangerous emotions inside him, he walked forward, his steps heavy, deliberate. No leather for him except the boots. He’d chosen black button-fly jeans and a black silk shirt. The fabric cupped him, slid along his skin as he moved, and he imagined it was Jane’s hands on him, molding along his cock, brushing his pierced nipples. He barely held back a groan as he circled Jane’s kneeling body.
She turned her head the slightest amount, probably trying to keep him in sight. He laid a single finger along her jawline. “Eyes down.”
Jane shivered as she obeyed. Oh yes, definitely submissive.
He circled her again, this time allowing his finger to trace her lips, her cheekbone, the delicate curve of her ear. As he moved behind her, he delved into her curls, indulging himself in their soft texture before fisting the thick mass and tugging her head back. Jane kept her eyes lowered, but she couldn’t keep her breath from catching, and as he looked down her body, he could see the tight tips of her breasts forced against the fabric of her shirt.
“You’ve read and signed the contract.” A statement. He knew she had; he’d read every line. But he wanted the acknowledgment between them—and to hear her voice.
A moment’s quiet, then, “Yes, Sir.”
That word on her lips… He bent over her, letting her feel his size, his heat, his power. “And you are certain you wish to proceed, sub?”
No pause. “Yes, Sir. I wish to proceed.”
He stood, trailing his fingers through her hair, showing his pleasure at her response. “And what is your safe word?”
Her voice quivered as she responded. “Weekend, Sir.”
Weekend. The word hit him like a two-by-four to the head. A reference to his band, Weekend Washout, or a reminder that she was only his for the weekend?
She’s not yours, dickhead. You’re an experiment, nothing more.
But would he be if she knew who he was?
If she knew who you were, you’d be out on your ass.
He couldn’t forget that. Jane must never find out the identity of her first Dom. And he… Well, he could never forget her. At least he would have this.
He moved away, taking a position between Jane and the light. His shadow covered her. “‘Weekend’ it is. If you feel overwhelmed, need to pause or talk or just catch your breath, you will use ‘yellow.’ Is that clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
That breathy voice, ripe with arousal and fear, threw gasoline on the fire of his lust, threatening to burn out of control. He needed to shut that part of himself down, needed to focus completely on his sub. But just like his body had warned him earlier, he couldn’t. All he could give her was every piece of him—lust, dominance…everything.
“Then stand.”
Without a word Jane rocked back onto her heels and came to her feet. Regret ached in his shaft as the hem of her skirt once more covered the delicate bands of lace circling her thighs, but he was about to see so much more.
“Undress for me, sub.”
~ ~ * ~ ~
ONLY FOR THE WEEKEND is available at major e-retailers:
And keep an eye out for If Only Book 2, ONLY FOR THE NIGHT, coming April 2016.
Teaser Tuesday - Jane
Want a little taste of my heroine, Jane, from Only for the Weekend? She's quirky, sweet, and oh so ready for a change.
Want a little taste of my heroine, Jane, from Only for the Weekend? She's quirky, sweet, and oh so ready for a change.
*
God, it was hot.
The desert wind blasted Jane’s hair back from her face as she walked out of the sliding doors of the Las Vegas airport. Heat soaked through the base of her heels to sear her toes, and she imagined the sudden sweat popping out on her forehead looked nothing like the “glistening” most women claimed they did in the heat. No, she was definitely sweating. And hot. Really hot.
But at least her dress was cool.
The Marilyn Monroe lookalike was intended to give her confidence, and it certainly did that. The halter top left her shoulders bare, the nipped-in waist made her feel incredibly sexy, and the filmy skirt flitted teasingly in the air, reminding her of the scene in The Seven Year Itch where Marilyn stopped over the subway grate. Vegas didn’t have subway grates, but at least if the skirt hit the air in similar fashion, her new lacy underwear wouldn’t leave her embarrassed—much. Since she wasn’t in the habit of showing strangers her underwear, some embarrassment was inevitable, but not the ratty-panties kind.
You’re about to show a guy a lot more than your panties, Jane. Remember that.
The sudden flush in her cheeks had nothing to do with the air temperature. She wasn’t letting it stop her, though. She planned to do a lot in Las Vegas that would have her blushing; she might as well get used to it now.
*
Jane and Vincent's story will release on December 4th, but you can preorder now for only 99 cents. I can't wait for you to dig in and really get to know them both. :)
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~ Ella