Blurb:
Dr.
Erin Taylor would rather be strapped to a gurney in her ER than prowling
Jacksonville’s newest nightclub in a tight dress and high heels. Forced to do
that very thing after losing a bet to a friend, she’s surprised by the sparks
flying between her and sexy police detective Sean Rembert.
Sean is supposed to be scoping the bar for leads that might help him catch a serial killer, not letting his neglected libido lead him astray. But the minute he sees the gorgeous blonde headed his direction, all thoughts of work go out the window. Until he discovers Erin is a possible target.
Their connection is red-hot and undeniable, but Erin is in serious danger and Sean will do anything in his power to protect her. Passion explodes between them, then a secret destroys it. Can they overcome the hurt and resentment to find their way back to each other before the killer closes in?
Sean is supposed to be scoping the bar for leads that might help him catch a serial killer, not letting his neglected libido lead him astray. But the minute he sees the gorgeous blonde headed his direction, all thoughts of work go out the window. Until he discovers Erin is a possible target.
Their connection is red-hot and undeniable, but Erin is in serious danger and Sean will do anything in his power to protect her. Passion explodes between them, then a secret destroys it. Can they overcome the hurt and resentment to find their way back to each other before the killer closes in?
Explicit excerpt:
In his right hand he held his gun, strapped inside its holster, which he placed on the nightstand. In his left hand was a strip of three condom packets. She grinned up at him as he tore one off and tossed it on the bed, then dropped the others beside his pistol. An odd juxtaposition, those two items—safety and danger, kind of how she saw Sean.
He crawled over her, bracing his hands beside her shoulders, pinning her legs between his knees. “I like you much better like this. All soft and natural, sexier and even more beautiful than you think you are.” Her stomach did that fluttery thing again. This time she couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “I bet your male patients love having you work on them, a powerful distraction from their pain.” His fingertips traced a path from her neck to her belly. “A dose of you would feel better than a shot of morphine.”
He pushed the hem of her tank top up her stomach and pressed his mouth to her fevered skin. She gasped at the contact. “Sean.”
“If I were lying on a gurney dying, it’d be okay if I could look at you as I go.”
She laced her hands through his hair, grabbing fistfuls and tugging his face up. “Don’t say things like that,” she said, forcing a scowl.
He grinned crookedly. “But it’s true.”
Her hands explored his bunching shoulders, the thick, soft hair that covered his nape, and the flat disks of his nipples, while his mouth found all the secret, sensitive spots on her neck and beneath her ear. He groaned when her blunt nails raked over his rib cage, and Erin loved that she’d made him make that sound.
Sean sat back on his haunches and lifted the tank top, exposing her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, but under his hungry gaze, they pinched even tighter. “Damn.” She raised her arms for him to strip it over her head. “You could be a lingerie model.”
Her blush went unseen in the dim light. “Not my style.”
“No, and I’m glad. I like that you don’t normally flaunt the wares. Makes me grateful that I’m the lucky bastard who gets to see ’em. Maybe even a little greedy,” Sean said as his hands came up to cup her breasts possessively, thumbs brushing back and forth over their peaked tips.
Erin arched, seeking more of his firm touch, wanting his warm mouth. “Sean, please.”
He lowered his head, answering her soft plea. As his tongue made lazy circles around her distended nipple, his fingers strummed at its twin. Sean sucked her into the wet heat of his mouth, and she whimpered, feeling her pussy contract and slicken with his hungry tugs. When he pulled away, he blew softly across the damp, puckered flesh. Erin squeezed her thighs together, thrashed her head on the mattress.
“Like that, huh?” His lips formed the question against the underside of her breast.
Sean focused his attention on her other nipple, treating it to the same lavish attention. Erin tilted her head to watch this time, wanting to memorize the erotic images. He caught her gaze and bared his teeth, biting down until she cried out at the pinch of pain muddled with a rush of pleasure.
Her sex throbbed, needy and swollen. Wet. God, she was so wet it was almost embarrassing. She’d read about women who could orgasm from nipple stimulation alone, but in the past she’d always required much more than that to get off. Given the talent in Sean’s lips and tongue and teeth, she was beginning to see the possibility.
She cupped his cock through his jeans, encouraged by his strangled groan against her skin when she gave him a firm squeeze. He was rigid and thick, long if her hand was a decent measuring device. Fumbling with his zipper, she eased it down.
He rose up on his hands and knees again, dark hair falling forward across his forehead and cheeks, his expression pained. “Take my cock out,” he said. “I want to feel those talented hands.”
In his right hand he held his gun, strapped inside its holster, which he placed on the nightstand. In his left hand was a strip of three condom packets. She grinned up at him as he tore one off and tossed it on the bed, then dropped the others beside his pistol. An odd juxtaposition, those two items—safety and danger, kind of how she saw Sean.
He crawled over her, bracing his hands beside her shoulders, pinning her legs between his knees. “I like you much better like this. All soft and natural, sexier and even more beautiful than you think you are.” Her stomach did that fluttery thing again. This time she couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “I bet your male patients love having you work on them, a powerful distraction from their pain.” His fingertips traced a path from her neck to her belly. “A dose of you would feel better than a shot of morphine.”
He pushed the hem of her tank top up her stomach and pressed his mouth to her fevered skin. She gasped at the contact. “Sean.”
“If I were lying on a gurney dying, it’d be okay if I could look at you as I go.”
She laced her hands through his hair, grabbing fistfuls and tugging his face up. “Don’t say things like that,” she said, forcing a scowl.
He grinned crookedly. “But it’s true.”
Her hands explored his bunching shoulders, the thick, soft hair that covered his nape, and the flat disks of his nipples, while his mouth found all the secret, sensitive spots on her neck and beneath her ear. He groaned when her blunt nails raked over his rib cage, and Erin loved that she’d made him make that sound.
Sean sat back on his haunches and lifted the tank top, exposing her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, but under his hungry gaze, they pinched even tighter. “Damn.” She raised her arms for him to strip it over her head. “You could be a lingerie model.”
Her blush went unseen in the dim light. “Not my style.”
“No, and I’m glad. I like that you don’t normally flaunt the wares. Makes me grateful that I’m the lucky bastard who gets to see ’em. Maybe even a little greedy,” Sean said as his hands came up to cup her breasts possessively, thumbs brushing back and forth over their peaked tips.
Erin arched, seeking more of his firm touch, wanting his warm mouth. “Sean, please.”
He lowered his head, answering her soft plea. As his tongue made lazy circles around her distended nipple, his fingers strummed at its twin. Sean sucked her into the wet heat of his mouth, and she whimpered, feeling her pussy contract and slicken with his hungry tugs. When he pulled away, he blew softly across the damp, puckered flesh. Erin squeezed her thighs together, thrashed her head on the mattress.
“Like that, huh?” His lips formed the question against the underside of her breast.
Sean focused his attention on her other nipple, treating it to the same lavish attention. Erin tilted her head to watch this time, wanting to memorize the erotic images. He caught her gaze and bared his teeth, biting down until she cried out at the pinch of pain muddled with a rush of pleasure.
Her sex throbbed, needy and swollen. Wet. God, she was so wet it was almost embarrassing. She’d read about women who could orgasm from nipple stimulation alone, but in the past she’d always required much more than that to get off. Given the talent in Sean’s lips and tongue and teeth, she was beginning to see the possibility.
She cupped his cock through his jeans, encouraged by his strangled groan against her skin when she gave him a firm squeeze. He was rigid and thick, long if her hand was a decent measuring device. Fumbling with his zipper, she eased it down.
He rose up on his hands and knees again, dark hair falling forward across his forehead and cheeks, his expression pained. “Take my cock out,” he said. “I want to feel those talented hands.”
Jenny's Bio
I started reading when I was four, thanks to a babysitter who found out the only
way to get me to sit still (and shut up) was to put a book in my hand. By the
time I entered kindergarten, I’d blown through just about every Little Golden
Book ever printed. Ten years later, much to my mother’s dismay, I found her
stash of paperback romance novels. She tried to divert me back to something more
chaste by buying me Harlequins, but I still snuck copies of her Kathleen
Woodiwiss’s and Johanna Lindsey’s when she wasn’t looking. Shanna, The Flame and
the Flower, and Fires of Winter will always hold special places in my heart
because they introduced me to roguish heroes, headstrong heroines, and the
trouble they could get into together.
I live with my family in a swampy little corner of north-central Florida, close to the Gulf of Mexico and the historic Suwannee River. It’s hot, humid and full of mosquitos, but I wouldn’t trade it for… actually, I would trade it for a cottage on the beach somewhere in the Keys.
In addition to my website, I can be found saying inappropriate things on Twitter as @JennyLynwrites; on Goodreads; and Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/author/jennylyn.
I live with my family in a swampy little corner of north-central Florida, close to the Gulf of Mexico and the historic Suwannee River. It’s hot, humid and full of mosquitos, but I wouldn’t trade it for… actually, I would trade it for a cottage on the beach somewhere in the Keys.
In addition to my website, I can be found saying inappropriate things on Twitter as @JennyLynwrites; on Goodreads; and Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/author/jennylyn.
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Hi! this Q is for the author. are any of your characters based of of anyone you know in real life?
ReplyDeleteHi Jenny
ReplyDeleteThis book sounds awesome! Thank you for the giveaway.
I also started reading when I was 4. I had an older sister who played school with me. She is now a doctor. I discovered Johanna Lindsey in junior high and it's all been down hill since. Lol.
I love to read. It is my escape stress reliever!! Thank you so much for all your great books and the giveaway.
ReplyDeleteHi, ladies! Thanks for commenting, and thanks to Melissa for hosting me!
ReplyDeleteMichelle, my sister-in-law is a nurse and she's always telling me some of the horror stories she sees in the ER where she works. But she also shares some of the funny and heartwarming cases too. So in answer to your question, she was probably a bit of a muse for me.
Good luck in the giveaway everybody.