Good Enough to Trust (Good Enough, Book 2 – Going Back) by Zara Stoneley

Good Enough to TrustAn erotic romance, including menage, M/F/M and sex outdoors.

Do you trust the boy you loved, or the man you might?

Sophie has only one thing on her New Year’s resolution list – sorting out her life.

Losing her parents was hard, blaming herself hurt more – but was it really her fault, or was accepting the guilt easier than facing up to the truth?

Retracing her steps was never going to be easy, risking her heart again is even harder – and when there’s two men to choose from will it be easier to trust the man she’s never stopped loving, or the one that might give her the new start she needs?

Available fromAmazon (UK), Amazon (US)

EXCERPT

“No, because I’m not. Are you?” He didn’t wait for my answer. Just gently propelled me backwards until my back met the soft covering of the lichen-covered rocks and my hips tilted forward until I could feel the heat of his cock pressed hard against me.

“I’ve missed you so much, Sophie.” His hand slipped under my T-shirt burning a molten path up my body that left me whimpering. “Have you come back to torture me, show me what I’ve missed out on?”

I shook my head dumbly, because right now my brain hadn’t got the capacity to think, to answer questions, to do anything but pander to my body’s reactions.

“You shouldn’t have come back.” His voice was hoarse, his hand closed around my heavy breast, his thumb brushing over a nipple I knew was hard, but he was looking at me. Straight to the heart as they say.

“I had to.”

“Shit, Sophie.” And when he kissed me it wasn’t the exploration of yesterday it was hard, physical in a way that made me gasp, controlling and yet demanding, as though he had to catch up on all the years in between.

And it made me cry.

I clung to him, clung as though I was afraid he’d go, even though his hard body was pressed against mine, his mouth claiming mine. I could taste my salty tears as our teeth clashed, as his fingers meshed into my hair, as the hunger we’d both kept under control erupted. And I was shaking, trembling with need and anticipation as I tasted the lust in his mouth, felt the want in his body.

He grunted as the button of my jeans gave way for him and his hand forced its way into my panties, his fingers slipping into my wet channel. I lifted my leg, wrapped it round him, my hand on his face as we drank from each other. And all I could do was rock against him, clutch at him, lick him and kiss him as the tears gradually slowed to a stop and a hunger that scared me took its place.

***

To read a longer excerpt visit Zara’s website.

Not Her Type by Kay Jaybee

Not Her TypeBlurb:

When Jenny’s regular film courier, John, reveals how she has become the center of his sexual dream world, Jenny’s quiet existence is thrown into an arena of desire that she thought she’d long since abandoned.

One unexpected, head swimming romp later, and Jenny is left wondering if her courier will ever visit her again, and if he does, will he mention the hot sex they had on her living room floor that Tuesday afternoon, or will he pretend that it hadn’t happened?

When the following Tuesday arrives and John reappears on Jenny’s doorstep, the scene is set for a continuation of intensely kinky weekly meetings. There is only one problem. John really really isn’t Jenny’s type…

Available from:
Amazon UK
Amazon US

britbabes_kink_hotnraunchy_4Extract:

What the hell am I doing? I’m a good girl; I just don’t do things like this.

A tiny fraction of Jenny’s conscience screamed at her. The remainder of her brain sent her hands on a thorough exploration of the densely haired chest that had unexpectedly appeared from beneath her companion’s polo-shirt The fact that Jenny had never liked men with hairy chests seemed irrelevant.

Standing in front of her, diving a hand under Jenny’s top, John squeezed her left nipple hard, wonderfully hard, making her squeal with pain-tingling gratification. Removing her shirt at top speed, John freed her breasts from their confinement.

Moving as if on auto-pilot, Jenny’s fingers visited the waistband of his trousers, but in her haste she couldn’t get his belt undone. Rescuing her from her embarrassment with a smile, John mumbled something about it always being difficult to open and undid it himself. Jenny barely heard him as a neat pair of charcoal grey boxers appeared, swiftly followed by—Oh My God—the most beautiful dick she had seen in years – perhaps ever.

As she knelt before him, the voice in Jenny’s head continued its rant, reminding her that she hated giving blowjobs. Since her first experience as a college student, she had liked neither the taste of cock nor the sensation of being gagged. Now, however, working on instincts she’d never known she had, Jenny took John deep into  her throat. She felt his fingers drag urgently through her knotty brown hair, raking her scalp as she greedily worked him around her mouth.

‘Hell, girl, have you any idea how often I’ve dreamt of you doing this?’ John confessed. ‘Night after night I wank about you, about you holding me in your throat like this.’

Jenny was consumed with a perverse pride as she listened to John’s words,  wondering if she should admit to the stolen moments she’d spent alone with a silver vibrator and her own filthy imaginings – imaginings contrary to her normal fantasies, imaginings that often featured him.

His penis felt fantastic in her mouth, but the restless ache in Jenny’s pussy was becoming unbearable, and she pulled away, panting. The instant she let go of his shaft, John tugged her back to her feet and grasped her butt, kneading it in a way that would give her bruises for days to come, while kissing her as if his life depended on it.

Conveniently forgetting that she didn’t like the feel of stubble against her skin, Jenny relished the burn of his unshaven face grazing her, scraping her cheeks as their lips and teeth clashed together.

Her head buzzed, her nipples were tickled by his chest hairs, and Jenny began to feel as if she were overdosing on desire. She badly wanted to slow everything down, but at the same time, she needed to go faster. She wasn’t far from climax, and the mere idea of their illicit situation was enough to send Jenny to the very edge of orgasm.

Recognizing how close she was, John shoved his customer’s knickers unceremoniously to her ankles. ‘I want to see you on your hands and knees,’ he ordered.

Sinking against the carpet as instructed, Jenny’s breathing snagged as she heard the sharp rip of a condom packet being opened. Seconds later, Jenny found her courier’s thick cock sliding into her from behind. She was about to tell him how fantastically full she felt when John wiped all coherent thought from Jenny’s head by jamming his thumb up her arse.

Nuzzling his mouth against Jenny’s neck, John thrust against her, holding her hips as they frantically moved together. Trembling, Jenny’s knees began to buckle and her elbows quaked. Seeing she was about to collapse to the floor, John eased out of her body and flipped her onto her back before plunging his dick inside her again. She clung onto his tattooed arms (ignoring her lifelong aversion to body art), relishing  the glorious warmth of her orgasm as he shot his spunk into her naked body.

As their breathing levels returned to normal, John knelt close to Jenny, teasing out the springy curls of her hair as he spoke. ‘I’m sorry Jen. I don’t like just walking out on you, but I have to go. I’m behind with my rounds.’

Jenny watched her courier dress with lightning speed, leaving in a flurry of promises and assurances that he’d return the following week.

Find Kay Jaybee here:

The Many Faces of Moorita Part 1

An interview with Moorita Encantada

Moorita 9I can’t tell you how excited I am to be interviewing my multi-talented friend, Moorita Encantada. Moorita is not only a fabulous performer with an amazing creative mind, but she’s also my  co-conspiritor for the play, The Eye of The Beholder.

Moorita is a versatile cabaret and variety performer, and an unforgettable stage persona. Her acts combine a professional touch of a trained theatre performer and musician with an outstanding originality and unrestrained creative expression.

Wild, unpredictable and ever surprising, she has already brought a breath of fresh air to cabaret stages in London and beyond. Her work has been applauded at UK’s best cabaret nights and venues such as Madame Jojo’s, Proud Cabaret, Volupté and The Wet Spot Leeds, as well as internationally. But the fulfilment of her bigger artistic vision is only about to happen..

KD: Welcome, Moorita! Seeing you prefrom as Medusa at the Double Whammy launch party at Sh! a couple of weeks ago reminded me just how many faces Moorita Encantada wears, and I would love to know, as I’m sure the readers would, how did you get involved in burlesque, and why burlesque specifically?

Moorita: Close to two years ago now I went through a moment of a creative low. I was doing well at work but I was still imagequite disappointed with myself on the whole. I felt like the best part of me was dying, and if I wasn’t going to do something about it soon enough, it might be gone forever. I remember walking past Cafe de Paris in Piccadilly Circus and deciding I was going to find out how to become a showgirl. One thing led to anther, I enrolled on a burlesque course, created my first act, then another and started performing in London and beyond. The rest is history.

Moorita 11At first burlesque was an just a liberating adventure, but soon enough I understood it offered a unique opportunity for boundless artistic expression. Fully embraced burlesque equals classical theatre minus all social taboos. On top of this, even though I don’t see myself as a feminist, I enjoy the feministic taint of burlesque. Socially, we are presented with many conflicting ideas of who and how we should be as women. Performance art, and burlesque in particular, allows us to redefine, in an as radical a way as we please, what femininity means to every single one of us.

KD: I’m over the moon that you chose me to collaborate with on this wonderful project of ours, the burlesque play, The Eye of the Beholder, but I’m sure I’m not the only one who’d love to know what inspired the idea of a burlesque play, which as far as I know is very unique.

Moorita: I’ve always firmly believed that there is more to burlesque than vintage bras and fake jewels, I saw it as theatre and cabaret’s bastard child, with enormous potential. Seeing Howard Wilmot’s “Burlexe” (not quite a “burlesque play” but so much more towards the medium of the theatre than anything else on the scene) was to me the proof that burlesque audience is ready for a different quality of experience.

Moorita 10Even though our project is quite unique, there are several outstanding performers on the scene whose acts focus on the dramatic and story driven side of burlesque, such as Audacity Chutzpah or Shirley Windmill. Others I admire have a clear identity (or “edge”) and share my belief that the boundaries of burlesque can be stretched as far as one pleases: Miss Jones, Vivacity Bliss, Lolo Brow, Rubyyy Jones, Miss Cairo Mascara, etc. These performers, and others, contributed to my deep conviction that burlesque is an incredibly powerful performance art, the potential of which is really quite unexplored.

Finally, and most importantly, your skill as a writer, and your hugely empowering energy KD – as well as your pursuit of deeper meaning of erotica – convinced me that this partnership is a unique opportunity to create something outstanding.

KD:  Wow! Thanks, Moorita. *Smiling ear to ear* You made my day!  I’ve watched a good bit of burlesque, and I’d have to say your performances are not what I think most people would consider conventional burlesque. Forgive me if that statement is a bit of an oxymoron, but your performances tend to be both gritty and funny as well as amazingly beautiful, even moving. Can you tell us a bit about your approach to burlesque?

moorita 13Moorita: The funny thing is that even though I have an appreciation of classical burlesque – pinup, cheesecake, retro sirens, vintage lingerie and loads of rhinestones – and love watching it performed well, I’d never do it myself. I guess that because of my theatrical and musical training, most of the time I simply don’t find it challenging enough (and it’s at an intersection of outstanding creativity and a healthy challenge that really interesting things tend to happen).

In short, my acts are like Marmite – you will love them or hate them. I’m fully into risqué, intellectually provocative entertainment blurring the boundaries of artistic genres.

I’ve been told it’s my stage presence, energy, original, wacky ideas and good singing voice that make my acts demand an audience’s attention.

I think I’m a relatively talented comedienne (though I know many people who would outshine me!) and I usually seek a deeper meaning through story based performance. Even a simple burlesque act would usually be inspired by an insight, or a snapshot of a little fragment of reality, appropriately zoomed in and cropped.

KD: I know how exciting I’ve found this collaboration of ours to be, and how full of surprises, but I’d like to hear how you feel about it and what surprised you most, what excited you most, what’s been the most difficult?

Moorita: Wow, that’s quite a lot to think about!

Moorita 7In terms of surprise, I’m still bewildered that we actually made it happen. As they say, ideas are worthless and execution is everything. When we first started talking about the project, the idea in itself seemed amazing but it would have amounted to nothing if you hadn’t had lots of creative energy and found time to write it, and I hadn’t done pretty much the same to stage the “Medusa’s liar” scene.  Now that we’ve managed to execute on the idea, I’m proud and impatient to see it come together  wholly.

I was really excited while in the process of brainstorming the story and the staging of it when we first started. I adore that creative high, particularly if it happens between two people on the same wavelength, artistically speaking. I was  even more excited on the 20.04 though, while performing at Sh! It’s amazing to see a more or less abstract idea come into flesh in an interaction with real audience. I felt the energy flowing between all of us, it was one of those rare moments I felt totally aligned, doing the right thing, at the right place and in the right time. I’m sure you’ll understand what I’m talking about when I say it felt like getting a little wink from the Universe, as if to say “good work girl!”.

As is generally the case with ambitious projects people undertake, the most difficult were moments of self-doubt. Before the play was even written I hadMoorita 3 at least two established promoters wish me luck and say that in their opinion a “burlesque play” would never work. Consequently, once the first draft of the script was ready, I was impressed but at the same time overwhelmed by the thought of what an incredible challenge it was to get it all on stage! I could picture beautifully written scenes and well constructed characters in my head and I fully realised what talent, effort, and logistical challenge it was to make it all happen in the real world.. It was scary.

Now that I got my proof that the audience will love “The Eye of the Beholder”, I just want to move on with the rest of the play. I’m still aware of how much work it will take to complete the project, only now I actually look forward to getting it done! I guess I learnt that little internal critic insisting that “it can’t work” is the only enemy that really matters.

KD: Wow! Thanks so much for sharing your journey and your insites, Moorita. And thanks for sharing the adventure with me. It’s been a wild ride, and I venture to say, it’s just beginning.

Join us next Saturday for Part 2 of The Many Faces of Moorita, and more about The Eye of the Beholder.

 

 

Gracefully Aroused! And Just in Time for National Masturbation Month!

Best of KDG final cover imageI’m sure it comes as no surprise that even before The Initiation of Ms Holly came out two and a half years ago, K D Grace was already being very, very naughty – filthy in fact. She already had smutty stories in two magazines and a dozen or so anthologies. In fact, when Holly found a home with Xcite Books, Xcite had already published several smutty stories by K D Grace in several anthologies, and there have been others since, though fewer and fewer as KD writes more and more novels and with the arrival of Grace Marshall on the scene.

I’m happy to announce that the lovely folks at Xcite have minds that are at least as filthy as mine. That being the case, they have collected all those naughty KDG stories, along with a couple of bonus stories just to round things out nicely, into one super-naughty volume, and it’s now available for anyone with a taste for hot erotica. AND just in time for Masturbation Month! No, I haven’t forgotten that May is National Masturbation Month! As if!  That being the case, it’s my pleasure to include a very filthy self-pleasuring excerpt for your naughty enjoyment.

Gracefully Aroused Blurb:

From a love spell that doesn’t quite go to plan to a farmhand who needs a little discipline; from a woman who is addicted to the confessional to a personal trainer with a very unorthodox method of guaranteeing his clients they’ll look fab come bikini season, K D Grace will tell you a naughty story with a twist. Before there was Ms Holly and the Pet Shop, before there were sexy ghosts, before Grace Marshall upped the romance ante, K D Grace was into quickies, and here’s a selection of her naughtiest.

Hired Hand
Pretty city boy, Tim Harris, is the last man Suzie Sheridan would have hired to help her on the farm had he not been the only one who applied for the job. But with strict discipline generously applied in all the right places, even Suzie is amazed at just how good a hired hand Tim turns out to be …

Personal Trainer
Penny Davis can’t afford to hire a personal trainer to get her fit for bikini season until ex-military hard man, Hawk Sturgis, offers her an unorthodox fitness regimen and an even more unorthodox payment plan, guaranteed to have her heating up the beach in her new bikini just in time for the summer hols.

Accidental Hitchhiker
On a road trip across America, Liz Martin’s car breaks down in the middle of nowhere South Dakota, and the ride a Good Samaritan lorry driver offers her is not exactly the one she expected.

Productivity
Under the careful supervision of his unorthodox management consultant, a stressed company CEO learns a hands-on technique guaranteed to up productivity.

Flaws
Love spells are the most dangerous kind of magic. Mick Denver learns the hard way when he enlists Sally Haddon, a witch who specialises in sex magic, to help him win the affections of his new co-worker, the exquisite and dangerous Darlene.

Hard Times at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility
Sadie’s sexual appetite is out of control, and a spell at the Nymphomaniac Rehabilitation Facility is intended to put it right. It isn’t long before fellow inmate Carol is showing her how to bend the facility’s strict rules, earning them both punishments that are more than worth the crime.

Confessions
Confession is good for the soul, but Hail Marys and Our Fathers aren’t nearly enough to gain absolution when Jilly confesses to an unsuspecting priest that confession makes her come.

Excavations
While volunteering on an archaeological dig, Gina and Mike discover new and exciting ways to help their workaholic professor relieve stress – and he introduces them to one or two methods of his own, which are far from academic.

Seeing Red
We all give off body heat, but only Jenny can see the red glow it gives off, darker and more intense the more turned on we become. When she’s compelled to follow a fellow bus passenger whose scarlet desires are too powerful to ignore, she learns the real secret of her unique vision.

Pheromones
An unusually powerful sense of smell gives Chloe the ability to sniff out the scents of people in lust. When she volunteers for a research trial into pheromones, she doesn’t realise the scientist in charge will have the perfect, sexy aroma she’s always craved in a lover.

*****

Excerpt from Productivity:

‘You want me to do what?’ Alan’s voice cracked in a sudden bout of nerves that would have been completely unacceptable at the negotiating table.

‘You heard me.’ Victoria spoke like she had just asked him to hand her the stapler. ‘I’d give you a little privacy and let you do it in the loo, but you’d tell me you’d done it when you actually hadn’t, and then you’d go into this meeting with the muscles in your shoulders still like rocks and the acid in your stomach still on the rise.’ She walked to the door like she owned the place and locked it. ‘It’s my job to prevent that, so come on,’ she nodded to the fly of his trousers. ‘Trust me, you’ll feel so much better afterward, and you’ll be amazed at how much better the meeting will go.’

He folded his hands protectively in his lap. ‘I can’t just yank one off right here in front of you.’

‘Course you can. I’ve got a copy of Hustler in my briefcase if that’ll help.’

He cursed under his breath and scooted as far back in his chair as he could get.

She rolled her eyes. ‘Look, you hired me to improve your productivity, to make you a better boss, and frankly, you’ve got no outlet.’

‘I’m going to the gym three times a week, just like you ordered. That’s an outlet, isn’t it?’

She tisk-tisked him. ‘Alan, you told me yourself you haven’t had a good shag in four years.’

‘Three and a half,’ he corrected.

She waved a dismissive hand. ‘The point is, humans are sexual animals, we have sexual needs, and whether you like it or not, the fact that yours aren’t getting met interferes with your productivity.’

‘You don’t know that.’

She gave him a hard stare over the top of her Sarah Palin glasses. ‘Look, when you hired me, a part of the deal was that you do as I say. I told you I’m too busy to waste my time with someone who isn’t serious about taking my advice.’

‘I know, but…’

‘You knew my methods were unorthodox. You also know that I’m the best. I get the job done when no one else can.’

‘Yes, but — ’

‘Then do it.’ She looked down at her watch. ‘You’ve got plenty of time. I planned it that way so you could relax and enjoy it.’ She raised a hand to squelch his protest. ‘Don’t tell me you need to go over your presentation. That’s rubbish. We both know you don’t. You probably have it memorized. I promise you, this will be much more beneficial than reviewing your notes.’ She nodded again to his fly.

When he still sat frozen in his seat, she heaved a busty sigh, grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of his. ‘If it’ll help, I’ll do it with you. Will that be better?’ She was already pulling her pencil skirt up over her hips to reveal red lace suspenders and knickers that were barely there. All at once it felt like the air had gone out of the office, and the sudden bulge in his trousers threatened to blow a seam.

‘There. You see?’ She nodded to his expanding package. ‘If it takes no more than a look at my knickers to make you hard, then I’d say I’ve proven my point.’

You can buy Gracefully Aroused Here:

Amazon UK
Amazon US
Xcite Books

 

Guest Blogger: Kacey Hammell

WMS_blogtourGood morning! Thank you for sharing Sweetest Salvation on your blog!

I recently received an email from a reader who enjoyed Sweetest Salvation – then took me to task for making her “bawl like a gosh darn baby”. I truly am sorry, Pattie! LOL

While I’m thrilled the book evoked so much emotion in her, she asked 2 very tough questions, which caused me to journey back eleven years.

Her questions were –

  1. How did you know the right pitfalls, despair and grief of loss to write about?
  2. If any of the emotion was your own, how did you overcome your loss?

She and I talked for a couple days off and on, but I’ll give summations of my responses.

As many have now discovered, the dedication in the book is for the “real Andy”. Her story was hard to write and I remember watching her when she lost her son and husband. As her friend, it was hard to feel so helpless in helping her years ago and in writing Sweetest Salvation, it gave me some healing along with her.

However, I did foster some of the emotions of loss from personal experience as well. I understand all too well how hard it is to “return to the living” after great loss.  In the last eleven years, I lost – my paternal grandfather to prostate cancer, my brother nine months after that in a house fire, my maternal Grandmother to lung cancer, then my father six weeks after my Grandmother to a burst aneurysm and my paternal grandmother two years after that. I still say she died of a broken heart, unable to truly get over losing the love of her life.

To watch my father cry the first time when my Gramps died nearly broke my heart. I’d never seen my dad shed a tear before.  Then nine months later, to watch both of my parents stand in a cemetery burying their own son … *deep breath*  Very unfair. Children are supposed to say an eternal goodbye to their parents, not the other way around. And my father’s death, the hardest of all, led me down a path of anger, uncertainty and I had a really hard time understanding why I was suffering such losses in my life. I took a hiatus from writing for about four years after his death. Truthfully, there was day to day living, caring for my children and all my focus was on them and taking care of my Mom and the cattle business my Dad had run for decades. And both my Grams…tough old birds who I treasured, and learned to be strong from. *g*

Losing them all was so hard on me, as well as my family.  There are still days I have to wonder about the “whys” of all the loss in my life. Deep down I do understand that it’s a Circle of Life and we’re only put on Earth for a certain length of time. So while writing Sweetest Salvation, some of Andy’s pain and despair came from what my dear friend went through but a bit of my own suffering tied in with her. I honestly don’t know if I could have written SS without the losses in my life. Until my paternal Grandfather passed away, I hadn’t been to a funeral in my life.

But in the end, if writing SS brings someone else some peace of mind and understanding, then I’m pleased with that. I was able to heal a bit more while writing it and I’m hoping those who read it accept it for what it is … a journey of learning to live again.

*****

Sweetest Salvation

Contemporary Erotic Romance/Light Bondage

Content Warning: Contains Voyeurism, Spanking, Multiple Partners

ISBN: 978-1-77130-330-9

Available at Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com (and more links below)

*An Evernight Publishing Editor’s Pick*

 

Excerpt © Kacey Hammell, 2013

“Mr. Sullivan is waiting for you. He said you’d know where to go.” He smiled and winked.

Cheeks on fire, she gave him a small nod and walked ahead. She moved into the bar area and looked around. The place was packed tonight.

There were a few people she recognized, but most were new faces. Hunter’s business was certainly thriving.

Bridget caught sight of her and waved. Andy did the same and turned to the left, down the hall that would take her to room fourteen and Hunter.

Movement caught the corner of her eye, and she looked to her right. At a table in the far corner, Paige and Nolan sat with another couple. She missed a step, but gained her balance again. She hadn’t thought about seeing them again. Paige waved and her husband smiled bright.

The couple’s kindness and understanding arced across the room. Andy smiled and waved back. They’d been there for her the other night. She’d be forever grateful for it.

Reaching the room, she took a deep breath and knocked. Hearing Hunter’s gruff, “Come in,” she turned the knob.

The room, similar to the one she’d used the other night, had a warmer feel to it. The fireplace ablaze, the heat of it welcomed her.

Andy’s gaze swept the room. Furnished with a full living room set, she loved the royal purple and black colors of the furniture and curtains than anything else. This room conveyed privacy and self-indulgence. Her heart rate increased just thinking of all that might have been done in this room.

It was made for sex. Especially with a glass display case that took up the most of wall. Inside were dildos, anal plugs, collars, floggers, cock rings and more toys of pleasure.

Andy’s gaze landed on Hunter where he sat in the center of the couch, arms stretched over the back of it.

“Hi, sweetheart.”

Her gaze narrowed on his and she shut the door behind her. “Don’t you sweetheart me, Hunter. And get that look off your face.”

“What look?”

“That self-righteous look. I might be here, but not for the reasons you think.”

“Then why are you here?” he questioned, his gaze unwavering.

“I wanted to tell you in person that your idea isn’t going to happen. We’ve been… friends too long. You’re Patrick’s best friend. It’s all kinds of wrong.”

He leaned forward, arms resting on his powerful thighs.

His red t-shirt molded his shoulders and the cuffs of the arms looked snug around his biceps. Damn him for being in such great shape.

She shivered, nipples tightening. She needed to get away from him.

“There, I’ve said all I have to say. Goodbye,” she muttered, and turned back toward the door.

Hunter was quickly behind her, arms encasing her as his palms pressed against the door and preventing her retreat.

His breath was warm against her ear. Andy wished she’d left her hair down. At least she wouldn’t be able to feel his breath on her neck.

A shudder ran through her. “Let me out, Hunter. I need to leave.”

“Why? You were so desperate to remain a member and be here the other night. I’m simply offering a safer solution. Me instead of strangers,” he rasped against her ear.

“I don’t have to worry about much with strangers. At least they aren’t people I have to see after the sex is over.”

Hunter pressed in closer behind her, which pushed her farther against the door. She’d always been claustrophobic. And right now, being caged in by this man, made it even harder to breathe than if she was locked in a closet. His chest was firm against her, his mouth against her ear, and his hoarse voice soft.

Her thighs rubbed together and her clit chafed against her thong. The string along her ass was snug. All she had to do was turn around and take what he offered. She wanted a cock inside her.

Dear lord, this was Hunter.

Could she step over the invisible line and take what he offered?

He was attractive, always had been to her. Hell, she’d only been married, not dead. She appreciated a gorgeous man when she saw him.

Hunter always treated with her respect and friendship. She didn’t know how much he dated but had heard women at the club mention his prowess in the bedroom. He could probably give her everything she needed. There would be a sense of safety with him at least.

And her body’s reaction to him today, while surprising, knew what it wanted. While she was sure it was a bad idea for them to journey down this path, she was overwhelmed by the sudden realization that not just any cock would do.

She wanted Hunter. Wanted only him inside her.

Her breath hitched and her lungs filled, making it hard to breathe. No, she didn`t have the courage to give into this man.

She needed to get out of this room and away from him. Grabbing the doorknob once more, Andy yanked.

Hunter’s palms never moved from the door, but in her hasty movements, his chest aligned tighter against her back.

Pressed against the door, she turned her head, her right cheek resting on it as her breasts pushed against her bra. The hard surface scraped against her clothing, which abraded her nipples. The urge to purr and rub against the wood was overwhelming.

Hunter’s body pressed against her; the cock cradling her ass told her that he was just as affected as she. His length was hard, solid. His hips dipped and shoved against the crack of her ass.

“Andy,” he whispered in her ear.

She closed her eyes, willed herself to push back against him until he let her go.

Her eyes opened when she realized her hips moved against his. Her pussy quivered and her stomach clenched. There was no sense in fighting a losing battle. She wanted him.

*****

Sweetest SalvationBlurb:

After the deaths of her husband and child, tragedies that she blames herself for, Andrea “Andy” Sheaver has shut herself off from the world. The only place she finds any relief from her shattered heart is Club Splendor, where she and her husband often frequented together.  There, Andy submits to pleasure and pain in situations so her grief is forgotten for a little while.

But Hunter Sullivan won’t stand idly by and watch Andy self-destruct. A friend of her husband, and the owner of Club Splendor, Hunter has kept his love for Andy hidden for years. He refuses to think of her at the club, cold and detached as she’s become, looking for an easy fix to take away the pain in her heart.  Hunter wants her to vibrant in life again and sets out to prove he is exactly who she needs.

Buy Links:

Evernight Publishing / Amazon.com / Amazon.ca  / Amazon UK /

aRe / Bookstrand / B&N / Kobo

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Canadian author, Kacey Hammell is a multi-published erotic romance author who writes mainly in the Contemporary Erotic/Romantic Suspense genres.  She is a true romantic at heart.

Where to find Kacey…

Website / Facebook / Facebook Author Page / Twitter / Amazon / Goodreads / Pinterest