Showing posts with label Amber Lea Easton. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Amber Lea Easton. Show all posts

@MtnMoxieGirl visits the blog with steamy #contemporaryromance 'Proximity' from the Wanderlust #series


Love sometimes hides in plain sight.

Savannah is one of the boys—fun loving, adventurous, a general contractor, and dive master extraordinaire. There isn't much she takes seriously about herself, or at least that's the impression she likes to give off. Women often misjudge her based on her looks so she's gravitated toward a group of men who accept her 'as is'—her Scuba diving club.

Bill has known Savannah's wild side for years and has been comfortable playing the role of best friend. As part of the Dallas Divers, he's shared many adventures with the group from diving the Blue Hole in Belize to exploring the Great Barrier Reef in Australia. When the team heads out to Costa Rica for a series of cave dives, he knows something is off but can't justify his nerves.

Catastrophe happens shortly after their immersion in the cave. With the entrance blocked from an earthquake and separated from the rest of their team, Savannah and Bill are forced to find another way out while battling aftershocks, rising tides, and an undeniable attraction that they've ignored for too long. The question becomes, what's more dangerous...the earthquake or love?

**The Wanderlust Series consists of stand-alone adventure romance novels. Occasionally, characters from previous novels may make a cameo, but each story truly does stand on its own merits.

Purchase Links:
Barnes and Noble: http://goo.gl/x4qmGC
Amazon: http://myBook.to/Proximity

 Read an excerpt
Although she usually preferred diving in the Caribbean with its turquoise warm water and sea life, Savannah had to admit that cave diving created a much more primal and intimate experience with nature. She released Bill's hand and moved close to the wall to investigate what appeared to be a marine fossil embedded into the limestone wall.  She traced her fingers over the curving image, knowing Bill would follow. Dive partners for years, they were in sync with each other's every movement and breath once in the water.
The mass of him slipped next to her, his light flickering over the wall before he motioned for her to look at him. Holding an underwater camera to his face, he snapped a photo of her next to the fossil.
She grinned over her regulator and winked at him through the mask. As usual, they fell behind the rest of the group. Both had an insatiable curiosity and were known for being the last to surface or the first to get in trouble.
When he moved away, she allowed her gaze to skim over his broad back, tight ass, and long legs. That kiss last night had not only thrown her off balance, but had also set off a series of anxiety attacks about the possibility of losing her best friend. Hooking up with Bill had never been an option for her. Not because he wasn't hot as hell but because of the curse.
Every man who had ever loved her had died, with the exception of her father who had come damn close six months ago.
She shook her head to rid herself of the thought and caught up to him. Of course, him suddenly crossing the line into wannabe lover didn't equal love. She understood that, yet there had been something incredibly intense about that kiss that made her jump to conclusions.
Maybe I'm the one in love.
Impossible. With Bill?
Too dangerous.
Bill? He's too comfortable, too predictable, too geeky, too stable, too nice.
I would wreck him.
And that would destroy me.
There's no way I'm in love with Bill.
Get out of your head and focus, damn it.
The sound of her own breathing competed with the echo of her heartbeat in her ears. Bubbles danced around her face. Only the lights from their headlamps pierced the dark water for glimpses of coral, curling stalagmites piercing up from the depths, and the occasional fossil or pre-Columbian artifacts embedded in the limestone.
She took the lead when presented with a narrow passage that would only allow one body through at a time. The beam of her light showed an almost bottomless deep darkness beneath them surrounded by narrow white walls topped by low hanging stalactites that looked ominously like a series of nails.
Once free of the narrow stretch, she stretched her arms to her sides to simply indulge in having space around her. When Bill gave her the sign indicating he wanted to surface, she immediately followed suit.
"Breathtaking," she gasped at the sight of a sixty-foot waterfall sliding over twisted sheaths of ancient coral and limestone. A sliver of light from the surface danced on the water. Pushing her mask to the top of her head, she blinked at the beauty, not bothering to reach for the camera dangling from her vest because she knew that nothing would capture the sight as vividly as a memory.
"We've lost everyone," he said, swimming to a shelf of rock and pulling himself out of the water. "I'll take a look at that map."
"I thought you memorized it," she said with as much sarcasm as she could muster.
She joined him on the rock while continuing to gaze at the waterfall. Underground rivers were fascinating places, full of surprises and undiscovered treasures. She indulged in the tranquility of the sound of rushing water piercing the profound silence of the cave.
"We're on track, just behind them, that's all. We didn't get lost somehow." He shoved the map back inside his dry bag before leaning against the limestone and looking up at the waterfall.
"What's wrong with them? Why wouldn't they linger here for as long as possible? It's breathtaking."
Both sat there for a few minutes without speaking or taking their gaze from the streaming water. The idea that they were seeing something so rare that maybe less than a dozen other humans had ever laid eyes on it embedded in her mind.
"About those high stakes you mentioned..." Bill curved his hand around the back of her neck and pulled her close.
"Bill—"
"You need to stop saying my name like you're shocked that I want to kiss you." A fraction away, he looked her in the eye. "Am I that unappealing?"
"No, I just—"
"Isn't this a romantic setting? Just the two of us sitting in front of a waterfall in a secluded cave far beneath the surface of the earth? How many people do you think have kissed in this spot?" His lips were a whisper away from hers. "We could be the first."
Desire stirred deep in her gut. She slid her mouth against his, feeling like this exploration was more dangerous than any other adventure she'd ever dared. An electric current sizzled across her lips before zapping across the skin of her face. Even her hair tingled. Hands clenched against the cool rock shelf beneath them, she smiled against his mouth.
"Surprised?" he asked before teasing his tongue over hers.
"Shocked," she admitted.
"And here I thought my reputation preceded me." He sucked at her lower lip, hazel eyes gleaming with mischief.
"Oh, it definitely does, but that works against you, my friend." She laughed before he plunged his tongue deep into her mouth and made her forget her apprehension. She pushed his mask from the top of his head and gripped his wet hair as if her life depended on being close to him.
He grabbed her hips and yanked her against his chest. His air tank clanked against the rock as her thigh slid between his. The hooks of their BCUs knocked together, reminding them of the limitations of their impromptu make-out session.
"I can't tell who's winning or losing," she whispered against his mouth after remembering their little game.
"If you chicken out, I win...or maybe lose...and you let me leave." He slid his finger down her face, lips still clinging to hers. "Because I want you, Savannah. I want the whole sha-bang."
"Why now?" She couldn't stop kissing or touching him. Here in this cave sequestered away from the rest of the world all things felt possible and doubts felt sacrilegious.
"Because I can't take one more superficial relationship when the real thing is right in front of me."
"I don't want to lose my friend." She framed his face in between her palms.
"Is this you diving into the ditch?" He quirked an eyebrow.
Remembering their challenge, she licked a drop of water from his chin before grinning against his skin. "Like I said, your reputation precedes you and I don't believe for one minute that you're serious about the whole sha-bang business. You're playing with me, going through some fucked up shit because you're terrified—"
"—Are you a clinical psychologist all of the sudden?"
"Your business has hit the big time, socialites are hunting you, and I'm safe Savannah. That's all I am."
"You're wrong."
"I'm your safe place to fall, just like you're mine. Although you do kiss like a dream, I'll give you that."
"Thanks for that small crumb of encouragement." He smiled, but his eyes looked sad. "I can't live in limbo, Savannah, and I don't think there's anything safe about you."
"Then the game continues." She leaned back from him, lifted the mask she'd knocked off of his head and placed it gently back in place before meeting his gaze. Regret for all that could never be stirred between them in that instant. She straightened his headlamp and patted him on the shoulders. "We'd better find everyone before they get worried."
Anger flashed in his eyes before he slid off the shelf and back into the water. With one last look at the waterfall, he shoved the regulator back in his mouth and motioned for him to follow.
She looked up at the sliver of light and wondered who the winner would be if she surrendered to temptation and indulged in an affair with Bill. Unfortunately, she believed that they'd both lose if that line were ever crossed...but, damn, she craved him more and more with each kiss.
She sank beneath the surface and kicked after him, the beam of light from her headlamp illuminating the shape of his legs moving a few feet in front of her. He took the lead through the next narrow passage lined with sharp stalactites and stalagmites that made her feel as if they were navigating between the teeth of a mystical creature.
The roar came from the deep. Water started to toss and churn around them, slamming their bodies into the slick walls at their sides. A piece of limestone from above crashed down, barely missing her arm.
She grabbed Bill's ankle to stay connected and also to keep her bearings as the world suddenly spun out of control. Unable to surface and unable to communicate with each other in the narrow space, they had no choice but to keep going forward. She trusted him to press on, kept her eyes locked on the falling chunks of debris, and kicked hard to keep pace.
Finally, the space opened up, but the rocking of the cave increased. In sync, they surfaced and grabbed each other for support against the slamming water.
"What the hell?" she asked after spitting out her regulator.
He looked at her through his mask, eyes wide beneath his headlamp. He held onto her while rocks fell from the cave ceiling and the water sloshed against them.
She wrapped her legs around his hips so they wouldn't get separated and yelled, "Earthquake!" 

About Amber Lea Easton
 Amber Lea Easton is a multi-published author of both nonfiction and fiction. Smart is sexy, according to Easton, which is why she writes strong female heroines who encounter their fair share of challenges but ultimately persevere. In addition to being an author, Easton is also an editor, speaker, and mother of two exceptional young adults. Find out more about her books by visiting http://www.amberleaeaston.com

Welcome author Amber Lea Easton to Wicked Wednesday



Welcome to Amber Lea Easton who brings news of her next release, 







Reckless Endangerment...

Colonel Michael Cedars is a wounded marine returning home from Afghanistan.  He’s partially paralyzed with his left leg, unsure how to fit into civilian life again after being career military and questions whether or not he’s fit to be married to his wife, Hope.

Hope Shane is a natural wild child.  She met the Colonel while working as a war correspondent, watched him get blown up and returned to Denver, Colorado to bring him home.  She’s an investigative reporter who becomes tangled up in a human trafficking story.  As far as Michael wanting a divorce and giving up on life, she’s not one to surrender the fight. That goes for the helpless victims in the story she’s chasing...nothing will stop her until she has truth and justice. 

As the danger of Hope’s story intensifies, Michael is tested more than he ever imagined.  Is he capable of being the husband she needs?  Will he hold her back or, worse yet, get her killed?  Is Hope and her penchant for finding trouble a liability he can’t risk? Or is he still the hero she claims him to be? 

Heroes come in many forms--soldiers who fall and rise, women who battle for their marriage, reporters who fight for truth and justice, and men who would put it all on the line for the women they love. 

An adult excerpt from Reckless Endangerment...

      “What do we know about being married?” she asked, her gaze focused on a distant spot on the tiled floor.  “Maybe you’re right.  I’m a mess.  You’re a disaster.  Neither one of us is being honest.”  She met his gaze.  “We’re just a couple of liars who enjoyed the danger of sneaking around in a war zone.  We’re the good story without a happy ending that we’ll think about when we’re old and alone.”
            He winced.  He deserved that. Hell, he’d been singing the same song.  It felt like a boulder crushed his chest as he waited for the final blow.  
            “I understand,” he said. “You don’t need to make any apologies.  I’m a lot to handle.  A disaster, like you said.  Just give me the divorce papers and that will be that.  End of our story.”
            “You never really loved me, did you?  Look how easily you’ve discarded us, everything we were.”
            “I’m sure you weren’t lonely.  A woman like you doesn’t stay alone for long.  If you need someone’s shoulder to cry on, I’m sure you’ll find a willing guy in a few hours.”
            Nothing he said anymore made sense, even to himself.  Frustrated, he left her alone in the bedroom.  All those months--after all of those notes postmarked from around the world--all of those images of her on television--he’d imagined the men drawn to her.  He had imagined her lonely and hurt by his silence seeking comfort from another lover.  Hell, maybe it had been easier to imagine that instead of believing his actions hurt her.
            “You don’t have any faith in me at all, did you?” She stood behind him.  “Not one ounce of faith.”
            He flinched.  Needing more space, he moved to the kitchen and preoccupied himself with looking into the refrigerator.  What to eat, what to eat...
            Arms folded across her chest, she stared at her feet. “God, I’m an idiot.  A big fool, that’s what I am.”
            “I have faith in you.  It’s me that I’m not so sure about these days,” he said to the orange in his hand.   He peeled the orange without looking at her but knew she paced next to him in the small kitchen.  He chanced a glance up at her and winced at the distant expression on her face.  He hated looking up at her.  Hated it.  He had once been able to lift her up and screw her against the wall if he wanted, but now...now he peeled an orange and wondered what the hell to say next. 
            It would be easy to let her back in, as easy as breathing. Talking to her felt like a much needed shot of normalcy.  He dropped the orange to the counter.  “You said we don’t know anything about being married and you’re right.  We don’t.  So what do you want?”  
            She perched on the counter, her dress rising up her thighs again.  “I’d like to eat the Chinese I brought.  Devon’s picking me up in a few hours...We’re meeting a source in the park at midnight.  There’s someone we need to find...anyway, I needed a break and, for some reason, I thought you’d be a nice change of pace.”
            He grinned without looking away from the skin exposed between the hem of her skirt and the top of her boots.  “You dress like this for a source?”
            Her fingers touched his forehead.  “I never really got to dress sexy for you, except in Greece.”
            He dragged his gaze over her body before looking in her eyes.  He had no idea what to do with her.  “Who’s Devon?”
            “My producer slash photographer.  She’s good...annoying at times, but I like her.”  She caught her lower lip between her teeth and stared at him.  
            “Meeting a source at midnight sounds dangerous.”  He smiled because he knew it probably was and that she’d always tempt Fate.  People like her ran in when others ran out.  His smile faded at the memory of her running back into the line of fire to save him.  “I thought we were fighting a minute ago, now you want to eat Chinese with me?”
            “Yeah, well, I’m unpredictable like that.” She broke the gaze and reached for the bags he hadn’t noticed sitting next to her hip.  
            His hand smoothed up her thigh.  Her skin felt like heaven beneath his hands.  His thumbs pressed against her inner thigh.  Both hands moved up her leg.  He wanted to undress her.  Taste her.  
            She opened her knees...just a little...enough.  He pulled her close and kissed her knee.  She tasted even better than heaven.   Fingers moved over red silk panties.  
            “I don’t want to hurt you and am afraid I might.  I hear stories of men turning on their wives in the middle of the night, being lost in a nightmare and--”  he said against her skin. 
            “I can handle you.”  She pulled his hair.  “Have a little faith.”  
            “Do you really want to deal with me?  Isn’t your life complicated enough?” Damn, she felt good.  His hands curved over her hips.  
            “Not really.  I’ve been a little bored.”  She slid toward the edge of the counter.  
            He didn’t know what he was doing.  Stay.  Go.  Fight.  Flee.  But he did know that this felt right.  Being with her was the only thing in months that felt real, that felt natural.           His fingers slid beneath the panties and pulled them down.  He met her gaze, thumbs pressed against her wetness.  
            She bit her lip, eyes alive with a dare.  
            “This is crazy,” he whispered without looking away from her.  “You and me together again. It’s not realistic.”
            “We’re unconventional, remember?  A colonel and a reporter falling in love in a war zone was pretty unrealistic, too, yet we did it.  We couldn’t get enough of each other, that’s what I remember.”  She slithered her hips closer to the edge of the counter, the heels of her boots resting on the arms of his wheelchair.  “You want to touch me and guess what?  I want you to touch me, too.”
            Oh, yeah, he wanted to touch her.  Taste her.  Bite her.  Fuck her.  But if he did any of the things he wanted to do, that would seal the deal, reunite them, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be anyone’s husband.  
            “You’re bad for me.”  He bit her knee while his fingers slid down the zipper of the boot.  “You’re gonna send me over the deep end.  Is that your plan?  To have me committed?”
            “I never tell my plans.”  She drank from the bottle of oozo and he briefly wondered when she’d grabbed it.  
            He removed first one boot and then the other until her legs were bared and open in  front of him.  He’d always loved her shapely legs, the way the muscles curved, the way her skin felt beneath his fingers.  He ran his hands over them, always so smooth, and cherished her compliance.  
            She held the bottle down to him and he took a drink without looking away from her face.  He loved that she was equal parts naughty and nice, half badass and half angel.  The liquor burned his throat, reminded him that he had most definitely survived.  
            “I can’t make you any promises,” he said before licking the inside of her thigh. 
            “I wouldn’t believe them anyway.” 
            He grinned against her skin and inhaled the heady scent of her.  His fingers slid inside of her as he closed his eyes, relishing the feel of her closing around him.  Her hands were in his hair, her ankles linked behind his neck.  He pushed the skirt up higher with his free hand before grabbing the liquor bottle and pouring oozo between her legs.  He licked her, sucked, delighting in the combination of tastes.  His fingers moved in and out, faster and faster.  She poured more alcohol for him as if feeding him from above.  He sucked it up, unable to get enough of her.  
            She wiggled her hips closer, hands gripping his hair, feet pressing against the backs of his shoulders.   When her thighs pressed against his ears and her buttocks clenched, she moaned, “I’ve missed you so much.”
            And then she was sliding down and over him until their mouths were clinging to each other like two people long starved for the other.  He pushed the dress up even farther, the palms of his hands molding her breasts over her bra.  
            “You’re the best medicine a guy could ever dream of having,” he said when she broke away to breathe.  

 ****
Stay up to date on Reckless Endangerment’s release date by following Amber at:

Twitter - @MtnMoxieGirl

Her current novels, Riptide and Kiss Me Slowly, are available at Amazon, Amazon UK, iTunes, Barnes and Noble and Bookstrand.com.  Links are available on her website, http://www.amberleaeaston.com

Hot Couples in Fiction Friday with Lauren and Noah from Riptide



Welcoming Amber Lea Easton back to the blog with her hot couple from Riptide, Lauren and Noah.

 Thanks for having me, Elodie.  Today I’m excited to talk about the hot couple in my latest release, Riptide.  This is a book that is truly written from my soul.  I practically bled the words onto the page, often cried when writing it and think of the characters often even though I’ve moved on to other projects. 

Riptide is a story about starting over after life as you’ve known it has been ripped to shreds, learning to trust yourself again even though doubt attempts to undermine you at every turn, opening your heart to love despite your reluctance to risk being hurt again and triumphing over the darkness that sucks at you like mud as you’re trying to break free to grab happiness. If you think that sounds intense....well, it is, but it’s full of sizzling romance and some funny sidekicks, too. 

Let me introduce you to my lead characters who burn up the pages of this book. 

First, the heroine...Lauren Biltmore. Don’t let appearances fool you.  She may look camera ready, but her scars are both physical and emotional.  A stalker--someone she’d trusted like a younger brother--nearly murdered her one violent night and shattered life as she’d known it.  Forced to kill him to save herself, she can’t quite justify that in her mind so she shoves the memories down deep.  As an anchorwoman, she’s accustomed to reporting the news rather than being the lead story.  She retreats to her brother’s home on Grand Cayman to escape the spotlight, to figure out how to start over and to distract herself from the nightmares that torment her. 

When she meets sexy screenwriter and dive master, Noah Reynolds, she feels “normal” for the first time in months.  He looks at her with desire rather than judgment.  He’s easy to be with...and to flirt with.  In him, she senses a kindred spirit, someone who’s as alone as she is, who’s had more than his fair share of sorrow, someone who accepts her as is--scars, baggage and all.  He’s the distraction she’s been craving. 

Now let me introduce you to Noah Reynolds...yummy is the best way I can describe him.  He’s a screenwriter, dive master, and a borderline recluse.  He moved to Grand Cayman two years ago after the death of his fiancee.  He thought he’d left the past dead and buried, but someone is on the island who wants him to remember every sordid detail.  Noah’s dead fiancee’s dress appears in his bedroom, clippings from tabloids are taped to the door of his house, a private detective ends up dead, and threats intensify as a redhead lurks at a distance--always disappearing before he can reach her--a redhead who looks remarkably like his dead ex.

He knows he should stay away from Lauren.  She’s the sister of one of his best friends and he knows exactly why she’s on the island.  His kind of trouble is not what she needs.  If he had morals of any kind, he’d avoid her at all costs, especially when her true life drama has unlocked his writers’ block. He’s had a firm set of rules that have served him well.  Rule 1: stay busy. Rule 2: avoid relationships with women.  Rule 3: confide in no one.  Rule 4: never forget rule 2. 


 One violent night shatters Lauren Biltmore’s life.  As an anchorwoman, she’s accustomed to reporting the news rather than being the lead story.  She escapes the spotlight by fleeing to her brother’s home in the Cayman Islands.  Haunted by nightmares, all she wants is a distraction from reality.

Distraction arrives in the form of sexy screenwriter, Noah Reynolds.  His take-me-to-bed looks mask a past ripe with scandal.  He knows he should stay away from Lauren, especially when the worst night of her life unlocks his writer’s block and while he’s dealing with a stalker of his own, but ethics aren’t exactly his specialty.

Attraction sizzles beneath Caribbean sunshine.  As their relationship grows, Noah’s stalker intensifies her torment.  Lauren wonders if her paranoia is justified or a carryover from her past.  What’s real?  What’s imagined?

Tentative trust is tested as their love is swept up against a riptide of deceit, murder and revenge

Excerpt from Riptide:
His two days on board the Angelfish with Larry had been good for him. Larry had convinced him of the absurdity of his theory that Alicia still walked the earth and assured him that he’d help find out who was bringing up the past. Sometimes there was nothing better than an old friend, even one who tended to piss him off more often than not.
He toweled himself off, his thoughts centered around Lauren and their last date. It hadn’t exactly gone as planned given the dead guy face down amidst the fish. Not that he’d helped the situation with his not-so-smooth-moves-on-the-beach later. The past two days had given him perspective. He wanted her. Right or wrong, mistake or not, he needed to see where this could go. He couldn’t get her out of his mind. Maybe tonight he’d get another chance if he could track her down.
“Noah.” Lauren cleared her throat from where she stood outside the open bathroom door. She leaned against the wall in a Caribbean blue tank dress that hugged her body in all the right places, legs exposed from mid-thigh down, ankles crossed, long hair glistening over lightly tanned shoulders, gaze averted to the floor and smile playing across lips he desperately wanted against his skin. “Sorry to barge in. You left the deck door wide open.”
“No problem.” He cinched the towel around his waist and wondered exactly how long she’d been standing there. The thought of her watching him shower and dry off did crazy things to his nervous system. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Erin told me.” She leaned her head back against the wall and dragged her gaze from his toes upward. “Heard you were on private charter for the past few days.”
He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe and let her gaze soak him up. He liked the way she looked at him as if he were dessert.
“About the other night...I’m sorry. Can I make it up to you? Dinner tonight? Etcetera?” he asked.
She caught her lower lip between her teeth, gaze lingering on his chest. “Are you sure this time? No running away when things get hot?”
Electricity zapped in the three feet separating them.
 Damn, the woman did insane things to his rational thinking. He’d decided on the boat that he needed to see her, make things right, take it slow, get tangled up in some strings. Seeing her live and in person threw common sense out the window.
“I can’t decide if you’re hotter when wet or dry...I’m thinking it might be a tie,” she said.
Oh, what the hell. With an opener like that, how could a man resist? He crossed the space between them, slipped his hand behind her neck, and kissed her on that mouth he’d been fantasizing about all week.
Her hands slid over his damp chest while her mouth moved slowly beneath his, her teeth lightly catching his lower lip. Eyes open, they smiled against each other’s mouths.
“Miss me?” he asked.
“It would be very uncool of me to answer that.” She slid her hands over his abdomen and lingered on the towel. “Are you still wanting to back off, or have you come to your senses?”
He braced his hands over her head. The only thing he wanted to do was kiss her slowly and make her beg for more. He looked into her eyes. “You’re making me forget all of the reasons this is a mistake.”
“A sexy mistake.” Her fingers touched his chest in a featherlike caress. She licked her lips.
“Good point.” He smiled. “We’re headed into the danger zone.”
“You have no idea how dangerous.” She tugged on the towel, a wicked grin in her eyes.
Oh, he had an idea about the level of danger. He’d thought of nothing else for the past forty-eight hours and ranked this situation a solid Level Red. Despite that, all he could think about was how good it would feel to have her long legs wrapped around his hips while her nails clawed against his back. He needed to pull the emergency brake. Slow, he reminded himself. Slow.
He leaned against her, enjoying the way her body arched toward his like a magnetic pull. He tangled his fingers in the hair at the back of her neck. “What do you want, Lauren? After the other night, you know I’m more complicated than I seem.”
Her gaze flicked up to his. “I know what I’m doing.”
“You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“Show me. Let’s make some mistakes together. We’re both consenting adults. What the hell?” she whispered, her teeth pulling at his lower lip.
“You’re reckless.”
“Does that scare you?” she asked.
He paused a fraction over her lips and looked into her eyes. Yeah, she was scary reckless, but that turned him on more than he could say. So what if she wanted to use him for a distraction from her own demons? He knew that had something to do with it—the woman oozed intensity.
Her mouth widened, taking his like a woman starving for the taste of him. Ravenous. Her fingers fisted in the back of his hair. Her bare foot slid up the outside of his leg. Tongues clashed in a passionate dance that left no doubt about mutual desire.
He pressed her against the wall, uncaring about the slipping of the towel down his hips. This woman made him want more than he had dared want in years. His hands roamed up her sides, thumbs caressing the outline of her breasts. Closer. He couldn’t get close enough.
  She pressed her hips against his. “Five days ago I didn’t think I’d feel any emotion ever again. Now here I am making out with you. Insane.”
“A little bit of crazy is good for a person.” He wrapped his hands in her hair, holding her face close to him. “What do you feel now?”
“You. I feel you.”
“You say all the right things,” he said against her mouth. His skin rippled beneath her touch. He couldn’t explain his reaction to her...he felt like an addict in desperate need of a fix.
Her body arched against his, arms circled his waist, hands teased beneath the towel that inched lower on his hips, mouth moved against his with an urgency that tested his self-control. He grabbed her shoulders, intending to urge her back, but instead pulled her toward the bedroom.
Mouths clinging to each other, they stumbled onto the bed. Giving in to the sensations of her soft curves and long legs against him, he kissed her as if he’d been dying and she were his lifeline. He peeled the dress up past her hips and squeezed her ass.
Her hands moved over his shoulders, against his neck, into his hair. Everywhere. Her leg curved over his thigh.
He kissed her face, her neck, her collarbone. One hand moved over her breast while the other inched her dress higher. She squirmed beneath him, breath hot against his skin, hands holding him tight against her.
Towel ancient history, he moved down the length of her and pushed the dress up until he could kiss her abdomen. He hesitated at the sight of the scar, evidence of the violence she’d suffered. He felt her stiffen, as if she’d forgotten what he’d see. He smoothed his thumb over the raised skin that ran from her right hipbone, zigzagged across her flat abdomen toward her left breast.
Her hand snagged his as she propped up on one elbow. Hair partially covering her face, she shook her head. “It’s ugly, I know, don’t look at it. Please.”
“You’re beautiful.” He pulled his hand free and smoothed it over the scar.
“Don’t lie to me.” She reached to pull her dress down.
He caught her hand and looked her in the eye. “Not lying. You’re so damn beautiful I can’t take it. Why do you think I’m breaking all of my own rules for you? Pity?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. “I hope not.”


Riptide is available in both paperback and ebook formats from Amazon, AmazonUK, Barnes and Noble and Bookstrand.com