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Publication date: February 3rd 2015
Genres: Adult, Romance
Surrender to desire with 12 books by the hottest names in dark romance, including bestselling authors Pepper Winters, Anna Zaires, and Lynda Chance.
CD Reiss – Spin
Jenika Snow – A Beautiful Prison
Pepper Winters – Destroyed
Skye Warren – Trust in Me
Kendall Ryan – Unravel Me
Anna Zaires & Dima Zales – Twist Me
Shay Savage – Otherwise Alone & Otherwise Occupied
Amber Lin & Shari Slade – Three Nights with a Rock Star
Pam Godwin – Deliver
Lynda Chance – Marco’s Redemption
Gemma James – Torrent
Excerpt from Three Nights with a Rock Star by Amber Lin and Shari Slade:
Hailey forced herself to stand still for his leisurely perusal. Even when he stood and stalked toward her, she managed to hold on to her dignity—whatever dregs she had left after donning these clothes and almost falling on her face. But his smile hit her like a blast of heat, blinding her, scalding her. He looked far too pleased with himself, like a man about to get everything he wanted. And her shaky insides warned she might just give it to him.
“What do you mean?” she asked, proud her voice didn’t quaver too much.
“You want to stay here while we’re in Chicago,” he said. “To stay here for three days, to blend in so that no one questions why you’re here. To ask questions, poke around.”
Yes, that was exactly what she wanted. So why did her nod feel like surrender? As if she’d agreed to his terms before she even knew them. But then maybe she did know what his terms would be. His eyes spoke the words his lips had yet to say. There were volumes of gold-flecked pages filled with all that sensual knowledge. They promised delight and, even better, a hard bite to the exchange. Where the men she had been with were a fresh spring breeze, he stood before her like the calm before the storm, his eyes darkening clouds.
“Can you…” She licked her lips. His gaze tracked the movement, making her feel hunted. “Can you help me?”
His expression softened. Just the slightest degree, but it was enough to slow the hammering of her heart. This was the same kind man she’d met in the lobby. Desire had given him a rough edge, turning his loping gait into a prowl, making his nostrils flare—scenting her. But he was still kind inside.
When he didn’t answer, she searched for whatever strength she might have found. You want… he’d said, listing her terms. Only his terms were left to be stated. A negotiation, then. But even as she thought the words, an image flashed through her mind, a gazelle caught from behind, the vicious beauty of her captor feasting in a National Geographic special.
“What do you want?” she whispered, and somehow the wall was at her back. He was at her front…crowding her…embracing her?
“You,” he snarled. “Under me. Over me. On your knees in front of me. I get full artistic license to your body for three days.”
His words pounded her like hail, leaving dents and then pooling in the hollows left behind. They drowned out the rest of the world and shook the floor. She began to shake too—but her gaze remained locked with his. The shaking was on the inside, fear and a strange longing warring inside her, a battle to the death. She stood frozen, caught in his sights and too terrified to run. Too curious to walk away.
He stepped back, sending a wash of crisp hotel air over her body. She sucked in a breath and immediately missed the earthy scent of him.
“And you,” he continued conversationally, “will have total access to play Nancy Drew in the hotel. That is, whenever I’m not using you.”
Her body lit up when he said the word using. It imploded on you, spoken with such self-assured possession. What was wrong with her that she wanted to be used? Maybe because she wanted to be free to enjoy sex, to really explore it, for the first time in her tame little life. Maybe because he would be the one using her, and he seemed like he would know just what to do with her.
This was a bad idea. For reasons that weren’t quite coming to her at the moment. But she knew it was bad. If she’d said it once, she’d said it a thousand times to her preschoolers: don’t make decisions when you’re angry. Though she wasn’t angry. She was concerned. And frustrated. And…
God, Chloe, why? After I worked so freaking hard so you could start college, why couldn’t you be more careful?
Okay, she might be angry.
She swallowed. So maybe this weekend could be for her too. She would find the baby’s father, but she’d also find something for herself.
With a deep breath, she struggled for levity. A lopsided tilt of her lips was all she could manage. “Where do I sign?” she joked.
His grin widened, revealing an even row of white teeth. The Cheshire cat had just such a smile. “I’m so glad you asked. I have blank copies of my contract in the side table. Right next to the lube.”
Excerpt from Trust in Me by Skye Warren:
Tyler sighed, resigned. “Okay. Come on.”
And really, isn’t that just what every girl wants to hear from a guy agreeing to fuck her? But I wasn’t like every girl. This was a job, that was all.
He led me to the bed and pulled me down with him. But I didn’t want him, not like this. I didn’t want him to have sex with me, not if he didn’t want me. I only remained here to protect those girls from forced sex, from rape. I couldn’t do the same thing to Tyler, not even to spare myself pain.
“Wait,” I said. “You don’t have to do this. Please don’t.”
“I have to,” he said, his teeth gritted.
This was all wrong. “You don’t want this,” I whispered.
He pulled my hand to his jeans where I felt his hardness pushing against the zipper. “Does this feel like I don’t want it?”
I already knew the body had nothing to do with the mind. “No,” I said. “I can tell you don’t. It doesn’t matter about me.”
He pushed me onto my back and loomed over me. “This is happening. Are you going to fight me?”
I shook my head. No, I wouldn’t—couldn’t—fight Tyler, not ever. No matter how I pledged my allegiance to Carlos, I couldn’t help but fight and resist every time he hurt me. With Tyler, it hurt just to be near him, but I’d endure it, if only to pretend a few minutes more.
He kissed me again, and it was almost real. Like a real kiss between two people having sex, as if I knew what that felt like. Both of us were doing this for business or to avoid pain or whatever reason, but none having to do with passion or pleasure. Still, I felt a long-buried stirring of passion. And, too, I felt pleasure as his lips molded over mine and his body lowered.
The weight of him, the heat of him, was delicious. Somehow I felt safe with him, which was a stupid error to make after working so hard and so long to be careful. He was working with Carlos—I couldn’t forget that. If Carlos ever found out I was double-crossing him, he wouldn’t kill me. He would keep me alive and make me wish I were dead.
Tyler’s hands found my breasts and easily slipped under the small halter top. He looked down at my breast in his hand. I knew I had beautiful breasts. Not because they looked beautiful to me—I hated the sight of them—but because I’d been told so. From very young, I’d been told how pretty they were—large, despite my lanky body, and pale with dark, hardened tips.
He groaned, just staring. “So beautiful.”
I hated that he said that, that he noticed what all the other men had noticed, that he was like them after all. At the same time, I almost preened. At least I had pleased him in some way. One of these days my contradictions would tear me apart.
His fingertip, blunt and rough, traced from the top of the slope to the tip.
“Why are you doing this?” he muttered, and it didn’t sound like he was talking to me but to himself.
Why was he doing this? Why did he need to get mixed up with Carlos? It would only end badly for Tyler. I had seen enough of Carlos’s business partners disappear to know that. God, but I didn’t want to think that Tyler would even want to be involved. Carlos had lots of different businesses, but they were all bad—drugs, guns. And my personal crusade, my curse, human trafficking. Which was Tyler involved in?
“You shouldn’t be here,” slipped out on a moan.
“I know,” he said, still mesmerized by my hated breasts.
“It isn’t right.” Why couldn’t he see? I wanted him to be good, but if he couldn’t do that, then at least I wanted him to be safe.
“I can’t stop,” he said.
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