The Kiss-Nichelle Gregory HEARTS AND DIAMONDS

“You’re a great cook, Nia.”

She smiled as he took a bite of garlic bread. “Thanks.” No need to tell him this was probably her best meal. “You’re haven’t touched your wine.”

Quin glanced at his glass. “I don’t usually drink when I’m working a case.”

“Oh. Do you want something else to drink?” Nia held her breath as his eyes flitted across the minimal cleavage showing in the wrap style dress. Her nipples pebbled even more and this time, she was sure he noticed.

“Water’s fine.”

She got up, walked the short distance from the dining room to the kitchen and took a deep breath once out of his viewing range. One thing had been confirmed for her tonight. She wanted him…bad.

The water sloshed over the top of the overfilled glass and she poured some out into the sink.

Dammit, keep it together, girl.

“So you’re the baby of the family?”

Nia jumped at the sound of his deep voice carrying from the dining room and more water spilled. With a frustrated curse, she threw paper towels over the mess and walked towards him with the water. “Yep, I’ve got two older brothers. One lives in Indy and the oldest lives in DC.”

“Parents?” He turned in his chair and extended his hand for the glass.

“Don’t you have all of this in a file about me somewh—” Nia gasped as her mouse slipper slipped beneath her and she stumbled towards Quin. The water hit him seconds before she fell to her knees in front of him. “I am so sorry.” She blinked in sheer mortification as the liquid seeped into the dark fabric on his thighs. Her gaze drifted further up his leg to see the unmistakable bulge inches away from her.

“It’s okay.”

Nia dragged her eyes up from his pants to meet his heated gaze. “No, it’s not.”

Quin ran his finger down the tip of her nose. “It is. I needed to cool off anyway.”

A ribbon of desire coursed along every nerve ending in her body as he stood up and offered both hands. “Let me help you up.”

She took them, visualising an actual spark of electricity from his touch as he yanked her up from the ground. “Thanks, Quin.” She lifted her chin, saw the same longing in his eyes and something twisted in her stomach as they stared at one another. She laced her fingers with his as time stood still. “Kiss me.”

The whispered request shocked her. She waited with baited breath for him to move, her words, her heart lay before him. Just when she would’ve pulled away, he groaned and pulled her against his chest.

His hands skimmed up her arms, into her hair as he kissed her. She melted into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and welcomed his fierce kiss. He took over and she wanted him to. Her moan of pleasure only encouraged him to delve deeper, tasting and stroking her tongue as he backed her up against the dining room wall. She could barely breathe, lost in the rhythm of his masterful kisses. One hand left her hair to cup her ass, kneading the soft curve beneath her dress. She ran her hands through his hair, loving the feel of the thick texture between her fingers as he pressed his hard cock against her belly.

“You’re so sexy,” Quin said, breaking away to look down at her.

“Ditto.” She closed her eyes as he claimed her lips again, this time in a soft, sensual caress that left her boneless. He ended the kiss and her body craved more. “Quin…” She sighed as his lips brushed her temple.

“Nia—”

The shrill sound of her phone ringing broke the moment, stopped her from making another brazen request of his body. She pulled away from his embrace to reach for the handheld laying on the dining room table. “Hello?”

“I needed those diamonds.”

Nia froze.

The cold voice on the other end of the line was unmistakable.

“Tess?” She whipped around to look at Quin already on alert as he tapped his watch and indicated for her to keep on talking. “Where are you?”

“Closer than you think.”

The line went dead as Nia stared at Quin. She handed him the phone in a daze.

Copyright © Nichelle Gregory

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The Kiss-Christine Ashworth DEMON SOUL

Gabriel knew her frustration as he knew his own. His original plan dissolved as he vaulted up to catch himself on the railing of the balcony. Joy and need both pulsed through him as he caught her scent.

Rose gasped and whirled about, pressed her hands to her mouth. Finally registering Gabriel, she wrapped her arms around the robe she wore, her eyes flashing in the dim light.

“Took you long enough. I’m going crazy here. Aren’t you?”

“I stayed away longer than I’d meant.” Gabriel grimaced as her shoulders tensed up. Sighing, he dropped from the railing to the balcony and held out a hand to her. “I’m not used to needing anyone. Not for years.”

She twined her fingers with his. “I’m beginning to understand that.” Her words were quiet in the pre-dawn. “You meant to push me away. But it doesn’t matter.” She turned her face up to his, her blue eyes like lasers, pinning him to the spot. “Apparently this need thing works both ways. Your soul has been aching for you. It’s kept me awake and edgy. I’ve needed you. I’ve been calling you for hours.”

“I’m here now.”

Rose moved toward him and put one small hand on his broad chest.

He felt that touch clear to his missing soul. Almost holding his breath, his gaze met hers. Flinched from what he saw in her eyes, even as it warmed him.

“Gabriel, I can’t do anything else than protect you. I feel this is the reason I’m here, and everything that went before brought me to this place, this time. Everything else brought me to you. Whether or not we have a future together? I don’t know. But I don’t want to rule it out, either, just because you’re scared.”

“I don’t want this.” He searched, but words were beyond him. A helpless little sound escaped from his lips. “Rose.”

She smiled a little, her eyes finally warming. “It’s okay. I’m scared, too. You do what you need to do. Whatever happens with Satine, I’ll be here waiting for you. We’ll figure out what comes next together, okay?”

His arms came around her then, lifting her off her feet to bring their faces to the same level. Gabriel searched her eyes. They were clear, holding no secrets. Her heart shone freely, and it took his breath away.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, took his face into her hands as he adjusted his hold. “Kiss me,” she whispered. “While we have this time together.”

He obeyed. Her lips were like satin beneath his, warm and alive and opening to him. His senses spun and his grip on her tightened. His control wavered.

Gabriel broke their kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, taking a deep breath. Drawing in her scent, the delicious fragrance made him yearn. Every part of him grew hard as stone.

This sprite, with her flaming red hair and Soul Chalice abilities had captured his heart like no other. Enticed him like no other. Her hands urged him to take her mouth again, and he forgot the reasons to deny her.

Her body grew warm against him. Her scent rose up to wreathe his brain, turning his thoughts muddy. He needed.

Urgency thrummed through him. Gabriel turned, pressed her back against the wall and, as his mouth ravaged hers, slid his hand down the front of her robe. Her skin was heated silk against the roughness of his fingers, her body wonderfully responsive.

Rose’s hands spread across his chest, those strong, capable hands hot against his cool skin, sparking fires of need wherever they landed. Gods.

“Rose?” The door beside them opened. “Oops. Sorry.” It shut. Maggie went away.

Gabriel stilled, one of his hands curved on her bottom, the other on her breast, his mouth a whisper from hers. His eyes opened and he looked into the smiling blue eyes of the woman who had captured him.

“Now there’s timing for you,” she said, her voice husky with need and laughter.

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The Kiss-Lucy Felthouse JUST COULDN’T WAIT

Taking another sip of fizz, she put the bottle back on the desk and stepped towards Sam. She pushed him towards the desk until the edge hit his legs. He sat down, putting him at a much more manageable height. Then she kissed him. He tasted of champagne and smelled of a subtle but masculine scent. He slipped his arms beneath hers, grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. His strength had put her a little off-balance and her instinct was to grab his biceps to steady herself. It didn’t work. Carla’s fingers had encountered solid muscle – and plenty of it, which resulted in her feeling all the more giddy. Was there no end to this guy’s perfection?

Still grasping one of his arms and squeezing – subtly, she hoped – she moved her other hand to his hair. Carla had always had a thing for guys with long hair. Too often though, guys either had awful pony tails or greasy locks – hardly a turn-on. Not so with Sam. His hair was clean and soft, ideal for tangling fingers into. So that’s what she did, using her grip as leverage to deepen their kiss. He responded by looping his hands together behind her back, completely enveloping her in his arms. Just as well, really, as the mixture of champagne and lust was turning Carla into a weak-kneed mess.

Realising neither of them was really in control of the situation any more, Carla decided to relax and just go with the flow. Their tongues explored one another’s mouths and their hands were wandering. Carla slipped her hand from Sam’s hair downwards. She briefly fiddled with his bow tie, grinning to herself as she remembered what he was wearing, then trailed her hand down his chest and torso. She encountered more muscle. He was definitely hiding a nice firm body beneath that outfit. And that wasn’t all, she noticed, as her hand pressed against the bump between his legs. His cock was rock hard and red hot through the thin material of his trousers. She got the impression that it was perfectly in proportion to the rest of him, too. She certainly hoped so.

Cupping her hand, Carla squeezed his erection, soliciting an animalistic moan from her soon-to-be-lover. He pulled away from their kiss and gently pushed her back, shuffling off the desk as he did so. Grabbing her hips again, he turned them both around so Carla’s back was to the desk, and lifted her effortlessly onto it. Then he kissed her again, taking his turn to tangle his fingers in her long brunette hair.

Sam began to pepper her throat and décolletage with kisses, sliding the shoulder straps of her dress down to bare her shoulders. As her arousal grew, Carla considered the fact that if she didn’t do something about it, her pussy juices were going to soak straight through her knickers and leave an embarrassing wet patch on her dress. She reached down and grabbed the hem with one hand, propping her weight on the other in order to lift herself and pull the dress up. Sam stopped what he was doing, then followed her lead, sliding his hands up her thighs, catching the bottom of the dress and stroking the sides of her body as he removed it.

Momentarily stunned by the sight before him, Sam simply stared. Carla was wearing navy blue panties to match her dress, and no bra. The colour of the scant underwear accentuated the paleness of her skin, and made her rosy pink nipples stand out all the more.

Carla’s pussy seeped yet more juices as she saw the way he was looking at her. His eyes were hooded, his lips swollen and pink from their assault on hers. He looked like a starving man at a banquet.

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Lucy Felthouse
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The Kiss-Cari Silverwood THREE DAYS OF DOMINANCE

With water sluicing off him, Heketoro walked calmly from the lake, his black-clad chest barely moving. He breathed as if the swim had been nothing, yet he’d been under for two minutes. The neighbor’s Dalmatian, Jugsy, shook himself next to her, sending out a spray. She dodged as best as she could.

     “Pah!” She was wet from head to toe and might as well have done laps.

     Her jeans had sagged down, and the top of her panties peeked out. The red shirt, the bottom of it soaked, clung to her like plastic wrap. A breeze made her nipples stand out like big buttons, saying press me. Disaster. She tried to be nonchalant when she wrapped her arms across her chest, as if she wasn’t concealing her nipples. Not that it worked for long. Heketoro handed the lead to her, and she had to take it.

     “This is the first day,” he murmured. His fingers moved over hers, and across the back of her hand, to trace a light but electric path up her forearm.

     She shook her head, dumbstruck by both his words and his touch.

     A shiver ran through her. She noticed every runnel of water across the muscle-hugging neoprene, felt the stir of his breath and the goose bumps rising on her skin.

     “The agreement stands.” Slowly, as if she were an animal he was afraid might startle, he reached out and put his hands on her waist, his fingertips almost meeting in the small of her back. He pulled her to him.

     Knee to the groin, she told herself, blood thumping hard through her arteries. Or a chin strike and a heel slide down the leg to crunch onto the foot. And yet…and yet she did nothing.

     “One kiss,” he murmured. And, oh, those green eyes, lids halfway down. His lips covered hers, lake water mixing with the taste of his mouth. She swayed and closed her eyes. The brush and press of warm lips melted whatever resistance she might have summoned, and she felt warmth between her thighs. Beneath her hands was the moist slickness of his wetsuit, and beneath that the shift and glide of muscle. She clutched at him, lost, drowning in sensation.

     Whatever time passed, she couldn’t say, as she answered his kiss with the instinctive movements of her body, pressing against him, groin to groin. She sighed as his mouth left hers to journey with a trail of kisses down to the hollow of her neck and farther, to where her breasts swelled above fabric. He glided his broad hand across the thin T-shirt, from her waist down her back, fingers curving into her bottom and drawing her closer. Then he stopped. She hung there in his arms, with her head back and lips parted, inviting more of his caresses. Through the languor, she was aware of his gaze, though her eyes remained closed.

     He leaned in, warmth stirring the lock of hair at her ear as he murmured, “I see our agreement is to your liking. Later then, we will continue this.”

     He released her, and she staggered a little, then recovered.

     Every part of her ached with longing, her vulva wet, swollen, and so sensitive, the pressure of her jeans between her legs sent out a ripple of pleasure.

     She should tell him no. She should. And she shivered and lifted her head only to find him gone. Water gurgled as it washed together where an arrow of disturbance mapped where he’d gone. Underwater, again. People walked past, silent, as if shocked at what they’d seen only moments before.

Release date June 7th 2011
From Loose Id

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The Kiss-Cherise Sinclair CLUB SHADOWLANDS

Still smiling, he led her to the bar. “This time you may choose your drink.” 
 
Jessica hesitated. Water or alcohol? Water would be smart, but a drink would definitely help the shakes. And somehow the fear had burned off any alcohol from before. “A margarita. Thank you.” 
 
“Cullen,” Master Z said, his voice somehow carrying past all the conversations, maybe because it was so deep. The bartender glanced over. 
 
“A margarita, please.” 
 
Ignoring the other people waiting, the bartender made her drink and set it in front of her. He smiled at her escort. “Definitely a pretty pet, Master Z.” 
 
“I’m no pet.” Jessica scowled. “What kind of derogatory term is that, anyway?” She tried to slide onto the bar stool but couldn’t quite manage. Wobbly legs, short – why couldn’t her parents have been tall? Then she wouldn’t look so much like a dumpling with feet. 
 
Sir grasped her around the waist and set her on the seat, taking her breath away with his effortless strength and the feel of his muscular hands through the thin fabric she wore. 
 
“Not derogatory,” he said, standing close enough that their hips brushed. “It’s an affectionate word for a sub.” 
 
“But I’m not a sub. I’m not into that at all. I hated what that man wanted to do. Being whipped… Just the thought makes me sick.” 
 
He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, his fingers leaving a tingle in their wake. “It’s a rare person who would enjoy being assaulted by a stranger.” 
 
“Huh.” The shakes were lessening, and her brain was starting to work again. “So a submissive person doesn’t just go belly-up when some guy orders her around?” 
 
He grinned, a flash of white teeth in a darkly tanned face. “Hardly. Just as with any relationship, a Dom/sub relationship has attraction” – he stroked a finger down her cheek and her breath stopped at the intense look in his eyes – “and trust.” 
 
Pulling her gaze from his took effort, but she managed. She wasn’t comfortable at all with the way her senses had woken up, as if he’d plugged her into an electrical current. Turning, she rested her elbows on the bar top and concentrated on her drink, trying to ignore the way her body felt, the way he affected her. Hmmm, her reaction was probably from him saving her. She’d read something about that. Okay, fine. 
 
Be cool, continue talking, girl. “What kind of trust?” His scent came to her again, appealingly male. 
 
He curled his hands around her bare upper arms and turned her toward him. With one hand, he tilted her chin up until his gaze trapped her. “The trust that your master knows what you need and will give you what you need, even when you aren’t always sure.” 
 
The words, the sheer certainty in his rich voice, sent heat stabbing through her, a wave of need so potent she quivered inside. 
 
As if he could see into her head, he smiled slowly and whispered, “The trust that lets a woman be tied down and spread open for her master’s use.” 
 
Her mouth dropped open as she took a hard breath, the image of herself naked, spread-eagled on a bed with him looking down at her was more erotic than anything she’d felt before. 
 
He cupped her cheek, leaned forward, his breath warm against her ear as he murmured, “And your reaction to that shows you are a submissive.” 
 
She jerked away from him, away from the heat growing inside her, and the awareness of his body so close to hers. “No way. I really am not.” 
 
Time to change the subject. She cleared her throat, her voice husky when she asked, “So, what’s your name, anyway? Does everyone call you Master Z?” 
 
He merely smiled at her and picked up the drink the bartender had left for him. His big hand engulfed the glass. When his lips touched the glass, his eyes met hers, and she could almost feel those lips closing over her mouth, over her breast… Jeez, Jessica, get a grip. 
 
He set the glass down, and then, as if he’d heard her thoughts, he took her face between his hands and brought his mouth down on hers. Her heart sped up, but it was the way he held her in place that sent hunger searing through her veins. His lips were firm, knowledgeable, teasing a response from her. A stinging nip made her open her mouth, and he plunged in, his tongue stroking hers. 
 
Everything inside her seemed to melt. A burn started between her legs, and her hands curled around his muscular forearms in an effort to keep herself upright. 
 
With a low laugh, he took her wrists and put her arms around his neck. Nudging her legs apart, he moved between them. Hand on her bottom, he slid her closer until her mound rubbed against his thick erection, the thin material no barrier at all. When she gasped at the pleasure surging through her, he simply took the kiss deeper, his grip implacable. 
 
By the time he pulled back, she was trembling all over; her hands dug into his wide shoulders so tightly her fingers ached. The room seemed to throb in time with her whole lower half. 
 
His eyes crinkled when she just looked at him, unable to speak. Cupping her cheek, he sucked on her lower lip, drawing it into his mouth, his tongue sliding across it. And when he released her, a wicked smile told her that he was thinking of putting his mouth elsewhere.

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