Showing posts with label erotic fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label erotic fantasy. Show all posts

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Sam's Sunday Snippet

New Declan Sands Release!

Today's Sunday Snippet is from FORKED, Book 2 in the Blood-Hound series!


Cliff Blood doesn't like giant snakes, but a sexy Marshal with fire in his eyes is another story!


Cliff started to climb out but the marshal reached over, wrapped his long, warm fingers around Cliff’s wrist, and held him, staring into his eyes. “You know where this is going, right?”

A smart-ass retort danced on the tip of Cliff’s tongue, but something about the way the other man was staring at him smacked it down. Marshal Scott looked at Cliff like he’d been living on rice for months and Cliff was a juicy steak. So Cliff decided on brutal honesty. “It’s going nowhere. You and I are on opposite sides of this thing, and it’s going to stay that way.”

Scott cocked his head. “I disagree. Scott leaned toward Cliff, his fingers tightening on Cliff’s wrist as he drew him closer. The marshal stopped a fraction of an inch away from Cliff, his warm breath tickling across Cliff’s face, and his tongue came out to give a slow, sensual slide across Cliff’s lips.

Cliff’s skin tingled. His palms itched. And his heart was pounding so hard against the inside of his chest he thought he might pass out. Then those exquisite lips lowered, and his mind shut down. The world narrowed to nothing but the feel of those lips against his, the touch of Falen’s fingers on the sensitive skin along the inside of his arm, and the incredible scent of the man who suddenly seemed to entirely fill the inside of the small car. The marshal’s presence was so big there suddenly wasn’t enough room for Cliff. He felt as if all the airbags had deployed and left him squashed into the corner.

Except these air bags felt like heaven and smelled even better.

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Sam's Snippet Sunday

Dream Lover - Have you Ever Wished for a Sexy Genie of Your Own?


Soft lips slid over her shoulder and trailed down to her breast. A hot tongue licked the rounded top of one quivering mound and traveled across to the other one, pulling a hard nipple into soft heat. Esme gasped in sheer pleasure, arching into a long, hard body. Soft strands of hair fell across her face and the heated caress of lips feathered over her chin, her cheeks, her eyes. Esme plunged her fingers into the silk of long, straight strands and pulled the exquisitely soft mouth to hers. 

His breath was gentle on her lips, the musk in it bringing a flush of pure lust to her skin. Esme’s tongue came out to slip across the slightly parted lips, causing him to groan with pleasure.

Filled with ravenous need, she lifted her legs, opening them wide in unmistakable invitation. Her lover sighed as he slid into her. His lips fell on hers, all signs of gentle persuasion gone as the heat of their joining spurred them to the next frantic level of lust. His body started to move against hers, slowly at first, and then increasing rapidly in tempo and intensity. Gooseflesh sprang from her skin and she began to shake uncontrollably against the tide of lust building within her.

He groaned her name against her lips and Esme sighed. She felt as if she’d waited her whole life for his touch, the sound of his passion drenched voice, the drift of his heated breath against her skin. She threw her head back as his body teased her closer to that elusive peak, playing against her erogenous zones with the practiced skill of a maestro in front of the world’s finest orchestra. 

Her body climbed toward a maelstrom of incredible sensations and she reached to pull him closer, her hands wrapping around hard, round buttocks to bury him as deeply as possible inside her body. He groaned and increased his tempo. 

Esme’s breath locked in her chest, her head fell backward on a gasp, and her body surged toward his before tightening in spine bending release. His head lifted and he cried out, screaming her name into the darkened room. Esme felt him pulse inside her, pulling her into another powerful orgasm as he plunged deep and fast into his own release.

As they softened downward in gentle pleasure, his lips found her face again and worshiped there, trailing across her lips, her cheeks, and her eyes. He placed a gentle kiss on each quivering eyelid and sighed. “I’ve waited so long for you, Esme. It is time we are together at last.”

His words drifted away on a sigh and Esme suddenly realized she’d lost his warmth, his gentle touch against her fevered skin...

Sunday, April 15, 2012

Sam's Snippet Sunday


This  week's snippet comes from one of my fun and sexy Gods of Love books, Nocked Senseless. Hermes was my favorite Cupid!

“Ms Cheever has delivered another wonderful tale!!!! Another look into the world of the Cupids has left me even more fascinated and hot under the collar!! I fell in love with the first in the series and have yet to be let down. With such vivid imagery, totally hot men, keep you on your toes action and sex that will burn up the sheets, this title is not one that you want to miss. If you have not been introduced to this collection yet then you need to get on the ball. Seriously Reviewed
~*~*~
A wisp of flower scented air touched my skin and I turned just as a long, deadly looking knife arced through the air toward my head.

I ducked and kicked out, my instincts reverting automatically to the decades of martial arts training I’d undergone in an effort to stay in shape and manage vast levels of sexual frustration.

The figure with the knife was small, agile and quick. He dodged my first kick and came at me again with the knife. I countered the blow with an outstretched fist and spun, levering my leg outward with the force of my spin.

The figure easily jumped the kick and countered with one of his own, catching me just under the jaw as I completed my spin.

I went down hard and felt my black-clad attacker slamming into my chest as I hit the ground.

Something long and metallic settled against my throat. When I moved the knife bit into my skin, causing me to gasp and settle immediately into an unnatural stillness.

I squinted through the steam and drug haze in my mind in an effort to see the face of my assailant. If I was gonna die I wanted to know who was killing me. And maybe even find out why.

The face above me was black and featureless. It had no hair and its skin looked shiny, impossibly smooth.
I figured it was some kind of new demon I’d never seen before. Whatever it was it smelled like sun drenched flowers.

But then the thing reached toward its head and pulled. Its skin started to separate with a soft thwucking sound. I grimaced. “Eieww!” I exclaimed.

The slick, black skin came away easily in the demon’s hand and a bright, oval face with peach tinted cheeks was looking down at me. The creature had wide lavender eyes with the longest, thickest black lashes I’d ever seen and spiky, black hair. Its lips were full and peach colored. They looked incredibly soft.

I found myself staring at those lips, licking my own in anticipation of kissing them. “You’re a girl.”

The lips parted slightly, allowing a husky laugh to escape. “And you’re a Brimstone-headed bum.”

I shrugged. What could I say? She was right.

~*~

Wednesday, April 11, 2012

The Devil You Want is here! Sexy Paranormal Adventure with Astra Q. Phelps


Book five in the Dancin’ With the Devil series.
Astra Q Phelps gave her boyfriend a magic hickey. Usually not a world-changing issue. But in Astra’s case, her boyfriend is king of the Royal Devils. And Royals have always thought that only males could mark their mates. So how did she do it? Even Astra doesn’t know. That’s the first of her problems.
Now somebody’s trying to kill the naturally curious Astra, which is always a problem.
Thirdly, there’s Slayer. He’s shown up on Astra’s turf and wants her to hire him. Given their undeniable sexual chemistry, that’s probably not going to go over well with her boyfriend. Not to mention that he’s got some baggage that’s gonna come back to bite Astra big time.
Add in the nearly constant sexual need caused by her Settling and you have a whole lot of stuff for Astra Q Phelps to handle. But, as you probably know by now, she’s definitely up to the challenge.
 ~~*~~
 
Warning bells were pounding around inside my head, turning my brain to mush. 

I climbed out of the Knight and pulled my power forward, checking the knives in my boots to make sure I could get to them easily. 

I briefly considered calling for help, but knew I’d never live it down if I asked for help against one little old lady. Besides, just because the old woman lived within a few clicks of my other client’s home, that didn’t mean she was a furry, razor claw wielding shape shifter with a taste for my delectable flesh. 

Of course it didn’t mean she wasn’t either. 

In my world you could never trust an old woman with wet, brown eyes. Chances were it wasn’t an old lady at all, but something evil, with big teeth and lethal claws in disguise.  

Or worse, it could just be an old lady who drank tea and tried to iron your clothes when you weren’t looking.
Can you tell I didn’t grow up in a nurturing environment?

I walked around the small house before knocking on the door, throwing out my sensing power to “taste” the area. Nothing obvious jumped out at me. 

Finally, I knocked on the metallic front door with its ridiculous, hanging spray of pink and purple flowers, my gaze sweeping the area around me with suspicion. 

After a moment the door creaked inward, showing me the wrinkled, seemingly harmless countenance of Mx. Diamon, her rheumy gaze filled with welcome. “Hello, dear. Thank you for coming.”

I frowned but kept my big mouth shut. It wasn’t as if I was there for a social call. 

“Come in, come in. I have your room ready.”

And with those few words my world came crashing down around me. Reality smacked me between my beady green eyes. My heart stopped beating and my lungs clenched. 

I was gonna have to stay there, in that gingerbread house, with that scary little old lady. My battered brain immediately pictured a huge furnace filled with scorched bones and a platter of cookies cooling on the top. 

My fingers twitched with the need to pull my power forward. Then I remembered I was supposed to be there to protect the woman. 

When had I made it all about me? Weird. 

I forced myself to step inside the house and immediately recoiled at the abundance of pinks, purples, and swirly type woven things on table surfaces. 

The walls were decorated with kittens and puppies and small, adorable dragons. 

The air smelled of lilacs and cinnamon. 

My eyes started to burn and I was afraid they’d bleed. 

“I’ve made cookies, Mx. Phelps. Follow me.” She marched down a hallway toward the back of the house, her well-padded hips swaying with happy purpose. Glancing back at me with a wispy smile, she added, “I hope you like sugar.”

Shriveling up under saccharine overload, I stumbled after her down the hall, already feeling as if I’d gone twelve rounds with Satan himself. 

In fact, I realized with a start, I’d rather deal with Satan.

Him I understood.
~~*~~

BUY the book!

~~*~~

Sunday, March 25, 2012

Sam's Snippet Sunday


Soul Warrior - Sexy Mythological Fantasy

"Sam Cheever has written a romantic story of two very different beings that fall in love against all odds. The characters are delightful and well crafted, with many emotional layers for each. This is also a story with intrigue and betrayal, and standing up for what you believe is right. ~Whipped Cream Reviews

~~*~~


She stepped forward, inclining her head. She wore a gentle smile on her face and appeared calm, expectant. She was dressed entirely in black, skin-skimming leather. The jeweled hilt of a sword rose over one shoulder. Her feet were encased in knee high, leather boots with metal reinforcements over the shins. Ornate, stamped metal was strapped around her thighs and buckled across her chest. Her forearms were encased in matching metal guards. 

She held a small shield in one hand.She looked like a warrior, ready for battle. 

Rael was in awe. She was an incredible sight. A loin-stirring concoction that made his mouth water. Words tumbled through his mind but none would drop down into his mouth to be forced into a coherent sentence.
Finally he opened his mouth and said the first thing that would emerge. “You might be slightly overdressed. I’m unarmed and way too tired to be dangerous.” He finished the statement with a smile. 

Bellona shook her head and lifted her hands. “I come before you as the gods have made me. I am a warrior, sent upon a mission from the gods. I do not choose my mission. I dare not question it.”

Rael frowned. “So that’s how you justify murder to yourself?”

She cocked her head, her expression calm. “Is that how you see me in your mind. As a murderer of humans.”
Rael frowned. No. That wasn’t how he saw her at all. “It doesn’t matter how I see you. It only matters what you’ve done.”

She inclined her head. “Yes. You are right. So tell me, fallen angel, Rael. What is it that you have done? What brings you such self-loathing and remorse?”

He turned away and reached for his jeans. Dropping his towel he stepped into them quickly, feeling the heat of her gaze on his backside. “That’s none of your business.”

“Ah, but it is. You see, you sit in judgment of me, without knowing any of the facts. I prefer to hold my judgment of you until I’ve heard all the facts.”

Rael zipped his jeans and turned to her. “Angels only meet my fate for one of two reasons.”

She cocked her head. Was she closer? Had she moved? “What are those reasons?”

“The first one is rebellion against the angelic choir…”

“And the second?” Yes, she was definitely closer now. Her beautiful gaze was intense, searching, locked onto his face. 

Rael sighed and walked to the room’s only window to stare out into the night. “Causing the death of an innocent.”

The soft warmth of her breath touched the back of his neck. Rael stiffened but didn’t turn. When she spoke again, her sweet breath tickled his ear. “You caused the death of an innocent, Rael? Just as you assume I have?”

Shame filled him. Self-loathing burned in his gut. He closed his eyes as velvet tipped fingers touched his waist, slipping lightly, reverently, up his sides. “Yes.” 

“Then we are devils of the same type, are we not?”

Sunday, March 11, 2012

Sam's Sunday Snippet



"I absolutely LOVED Nocked Over! Ms. Cheever has a beautiful voice and a light touch with her characters. I simply cannot imagine a reader who would not love Nocked Over.... What are you waiting for? Go get a copy of Nocked Over! As for me, I'm chasing down another of Sam Cheever's books."
Marcy, JERR Reviews 
~~*~~
Bion walked in the front door of the firm. He was carrying a single lavender rose in one hand and wearing a smile. He walked toward me, past the receptionist and extended the rose. “Good morning.”
Without thinking I took it. And then looked down at it in shock. A lavender rose, representing love at first sight. Damn! I tried to hand it back to him.
He shook his head “Uh-uh. You accepted it.”
I frowned. “I can’t accept this, Mr. Chronos.”
He frowned back at me. “Bion.”
I turned away. “Mr. Chronos, can you join me in my office please?” I nodded to Becky, our receptionist, who shrugged at me as if to say, “Sorry, I couldn’t stop him.”
I didn’t turn to see if he was following me. I didn’t need to. I could feel every breath he took, every beat of his heart and every line of his hard body in my soul. I breathed deeply and his unique, knee-melting scent filled my head, making me dizzy with lust.
I really needed to get a grip.
I touched the door frame as I entered my office to steady myself and then started moving toward my desk. I heard the door close and turned in panic. It wasn’t safe for me to be closed into the office with him. I opened my mouth to tell him to open the door but I didn’t get the chance.
He was standing so close behind me my breasts rubbed across his chest as I turned. I gasped.
He smiled. His lips found mine.
My eyes popped wide and, to my extreme credit, I did try to push him away. For about three seconds. And then I succumbed to the drug that was Bion.
My knees buckled and his arms snugged around my waist, holding me upright and so tight against his body that I couldn’t move. Couldn’t form a straight thought.
I stopped breathing my own air and consumed his instead. It was a heady brew filled with sexual heat and untamed musk. I drank it down like fine wine. My head spinning with the kick from it.

Sunday, March 4, 2012

Sam's Snippet Sunday

The Devil You Know - Dancin' With the Devil Book 5


The air in the room changed and my hand throbbed. I slid it behind my back, suddenly remembering the Slayer’s mark.

The last thing I wanted Dialle to see at that moment was that mark. “He’s gone.” I told Dialle.

I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or pissed that the Slayer had left me holding the proverbial bag. What I did know was that I still had a whole passel of problems to solve, and now I had a new one.

Sighing, I turned away and started walking toward the door.

“Astra!”

I shook my head without turning. “I have to save Darma and Myra, then I need to figure out what’s going on. A sudden memory had me stopping dead in my tracks. A red, scaly face with a broken jaw flashed before my eyes and I heard a gravelly voice say, “King Dialle sent me to kill you.” The audio reel in my head switched to another track, and I heard Euryice, the traitorous black dragon, say, “You will die soon, dragon fighter, and your lover will be the cause.”

I turned, my gaze locked onto Dialle’s hostile face. I wasn’t sure how to ask the question that needed asking so I just came right out with it. “Did you send assassins to kill me?”

I watched his impossibly handsome face very carefully for any signs that he was guilty of the charge. I saw a surprised widening of his black eyes before they narrowed in a frown, but the emotion that flashed across his features didn’t look like guilt to me. I wasn’t sure what it was.

“Of course not, Astra. Why would I want to do that?” He walked toward me with long, ground-eating strides, clasping my arms in a hard grip. “Why are you asking me that? Has someone tried to kill you?”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. Who hadn’t tried to kill me over the last few days?

I said as much to Dialle and his frown deepened to a scowl. After a few beats his expression cleared and I thought I read understanding of some kind there. “You must come with me. I can protect you until we figure out what’s going on.”

I started to shake my head but didn’t quite manage it. I soon found myself locked in space and time, unable to move, my ears ringing with complete silence, as Dialle shifted us away from the castle on the edge of Hell, to a new place in Hades that was probably eminently worse.

Just like that I found myself driving inexorably closer to the culmination of my Settling, surrounded by devils and devilry, deep in the heart of the purest evil in the universe. Skirting the scalding fires of Hell.

Yeah, my life just sucked.

And I was so totally screwed.

Friday, February 17, 2012

Like Shape shifters? Foxed Releases Today!

Sinopa Breckenridge is restless. Something is bubbling just under her skin, making her shiver and sweat at the same time. So she runs to Last Chance, Alaska to deal with it in private. But she doesn't count on Crevan Dakota. His very presence ruins any chance she has of taming the beast clawing for release under her skin. In fact, being with him is about to set the beast free.

To make things worse, shifters have been disappearing from Last Chance, and a killer is stalking Sin. When the situation starts to heat up, it's gonna take every resource the two of them can muster to keep Sin alive!
 
      The moon painted the trees in a bright, inviting wash. It was so large and so full that Sin imagined she could feel its power pulsing against her skin. She lifted her gin gimlet and sipped it, savoring the sweet, fruity tang, overlaid by the gentle bite of the gin.
Sitting in the old, wooden porch swing, enjoying the cacophony of animal sounds surrounding the cabin, Sin settled the icy glass against her cheek, closing her eyes with pleasure. Her skin felt heated, flushed, and the cool breezes sliding through the forest did little to soothe it. She’d been even more jumpy than usual since arriving at the cabin. Actually, since running into Crevan Dakota on the ferry.
To distract herself, she’d made a start on expelling two years of dust and debris from the cabin. She’d washed the bedding and remade the lumpy bed in the cabin’s single bedroom. And she’d spent some time walking around, just touching her Granna’s things.
She especially savored the little fox figurines Granna had created from the abundant wood surrounding her little haven. Sin’s fingers had slipped reverently over the small, carved figures, the painted wood coats still bright despite years of neglect. As she’d done when she was just a child, she marveled at the way her Granna had brought the tiny figures to life beneath her carving knife and paintbrush.
It was as if Granna could put herself inside the fox. Feel what the animal felt. Her Granna’s love of the small, stunning arctic fox was well known. Sin’s favorite childhood memory was the time she’d come to spend the summer at the cabin and had walked inside to find a large cage by the fireplace. Inside, a gorgeous white vixen growled, a swarm of tiny kits suckling at her belly.
The event had been the impetus for the carving Sin currently clutched in her hand. Her Granna had made the tiny kit for her the next day, presenting it as a memento of that summer. Sin had never let it out of her sight. In fact, she’d had it set into a necklace that she only took off when she showered or swam.
She caressed the carving with her thumb. It was so lifelike. The tiny fox sat on its haunches, its tiny ears perked inquisitively and its dark eyes filled with life.
The beautifully carved figurine was all she had left of her Granna.
That, and a rustic cabin in the middle of an Alaskan forest. A cabin in dire need of repair. She looked up at the peeling paint of the porch ceiling above her head and took note of the cracked window that looked out over Last Chance Creek from the small kitchen.
She sighed. At least with all the cleaning and repairs she’d be too busy to think about the changes crawling around inside her body.
The shadows on the other side of the wide creek split apart and a long, low-slung body glided toward the creek. As if conjured from her thoughts, the wolf stopped suddenly and looked up, seeming to catch her gaze.
She sucked in a breath, marveling at the size and beauty of the animal. From where she sat, it looked to be at least four feet tall at the shoulders and around two hundred pounds.
The moon caressed the large creature, tipping the dense, black fur in silver.
Sin was afraid to move, afraid to breathe, for fear the wolf would run away. But it didn’t seem inclined to run. In fact, it settled onto its haunches and stared at her for a moment, the vibrant eyes focused on her with frightening intensity.
She knew she should fear him, but somehow she didn’t. She felt as if she recognized him.
Him? How did she know it was a male?
A memory tried to surface but she wasn’t able to pull it forward. Maybe she’d seen the wolf when she’d been there before? As soon as she had the thought she realized it was unlikely. There couldn’t be many wolves of that size in the whole state. Surely she’d never laid eyes on one before. She would have remembered it.
But the wolf across the creek certainly seemed interested in her.
Run?
Sin jerked. Where had that thought come from? Her stomach tightened and burned. Her skin crawled with heat.
Run?
The single word scalded her, rippled across her awareness like fire. Before she knew what she was doing, she stood up, placing the glass on the softly swaying swing.
The wolf stood too, its tail twitching as she started toward the creek.
Sin’s heart was beating so fast she felt faint. Her palms were wet, her mind racing with all the things that could go wrong, considering what she was about to do.
But she couldn’t seem to stop her feet from moving forward. And suddenly she was running.


BUY LINK: http://www.changelingpress.com/product.php?&upt=book&ubid=1778

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Sam's Snippet Sunday


My goodness, has a week gone by already? Yeesh! Well, okay, this week's snippet is from Cupid Only Rings Twice, which released on Friday! Yay! Enjoy.
~~*~~


Damios lowered his head, capturing her exquisite lips in a kiss that was less a tender wish and more an urgent promise. Her mouth opened under his and he accepted her offer, slipping his tongue past her lips to savor her sweet taste.

She moaned softly as his hands slipped around her waist, up her back, and pulled her tightly against his chest. Her body heated under his kiss and her incredible scent slipped over him.

Damios broke the kiss long enough to say, “I lied. I want to come inside.”

They both stilled for a moment, Damios realizing how his declaration had sounded and Rori’s lips twitching under a suppressed grin.
He rested his forehead against hers, finding it hard to breathe. “Sorry. That came out wrong.”

She chuckled huskily, skimming the tip of one velvet thumb across his bottom lip. “No. It came out just right.”

Damios bit her thumb softly and slipped his hands down her body, cupping the firm roundness of her buttocks. His lips found hers again and he groaned as she ground herself against him.

Their kiss gained heat, their bodies thrumming under the imperative of a building need. Their tongues tangled, danced, and their hands skimmed, exploring with growing intensity.

Rori pulled away and grabbed his hand. “Come on.”

As she unlocked the door, Damios pressed himself against her back, reveling in her soft curves against his hard, hungry body. She twisted the key, halting in the act of pushing the door open as he swept his tongue down her neck, gently biting the top of her shoulder.

Damios felt her groan of pleasure thrum through his chest and grasped her chin, turning her to capture her scrumptious lips in an intense kiss. Placing one hand on her soft buttocks, and the other hand at the back of her neck, Damios deepened the kiss and walked them backward, into the house.

It was cool and dark inside Rori’s home and smelled of roses.

They didn’t bother with the lights, didn’t bother with anything other than each other.

BUY the book!

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Riding the Pulse - Erotic Science Fiction, Super Hero Fiction


Marissa O'Neill and Jurden Bailey share a past they don't remember, though it's haunted their dreams for a decade. In their teens, they encountered something powerful in a cave in Mexico, and it changed them forever. But it isn't until they meet again, years later, that they realize just how much they've changed.

Suddenly they have powers -- super powers -- and they don't know how they're supposed to use them or why they have them. All they know is that sex seems to trigger the power and enhance it. And that's one trigger they're happy to explore.
But something alien and terrifying is trying to kill them, and it won't give up until it gets what they don't even know they have -- the single remaining object that can tie an advanced, alien race to much of Earth's history.

If only Rissa weren't so distracted by the things Jurden's vibrating finger can do!

~~*~~
Her gaze slid to his, and her breath stalled in her throat. Dark green eyes, fringed in a short, thick arc of light brown, almost blond, lashes, looked into hers and widened slightly in surprise. A wavy strand of sun-kissed brown hair had escaped the ponytail he’d pulled it into at the nape of his thick neck and had settled onto his wide forehead.
He was even taller than she remembered him being, and much broader in the shoulders. But his face was still chiseled perfection, with a wide brow, a square, clean-shaven jaw, and a long nose over a wide, well shaped mouth.
A memory of heated kisses, tasting of frozen lime and salt, assailed her and Rissa tightened her thighs as a wave of lust rolled over her. They’d spent hours lying in the hot, white sand, touching and kissing under the broiling Mexican sun. By the end of every day her skin had been burnt and sore. But she’d barely noticed because heat of another kind had filled her dreams, making her toss and turn on moist, tangled sheets.
Rissa shook her head, wondering where that flashback had come from. She hadn’t thought of Mexico in years.
“Jurden?”
The nicely formed lips bent upward in a slow smile. “Rissa O’Neill, I never thought I’d see you again.”
“Oh, my God!” She leaned forward and gave him an impulsive hug. “Do you work here?”
He shook his head, “Actually, I’m here to view the collection that was stolen. I’m an art historian.”
Nodding, she said, “That’s right, You were an art history major, as I recall.”
They shared a smile that made Rissa’s stomach jump with excitement.

It had been ten years. Jurden had figured he’d never see her again. Yet there she was. Just standing there looking at him with those incredible, golden-brown eyes. Her silky, black hair was a bit shorter than he remembered, but still sprang around her pretty face in lively curls that seemed too random. The style complimented her angular face very well.
She looked just the way he remembered her. Except maybe a bit curvier. Very nicely curved, in fact.
Over the years since they’d spent time together on the beaches of Puerto Vallarta, he’d often wondered if his memories of her had changed with every passing year away from her. Maybe he’d imagined her incredible taste, or the flawless satin of her skin. He might have turned a simple crush into something much larger than it really was. But seeing her again at that moment, in such an unexpected place, all those feelings came crashing back on him. He remembered how her skin had felt beneath his fingers as they snuggled together under a climbing moon. He could almost taste her lips beneath his own.
His gaze slipped to her mouth and he fought the urge to slide his tongue over those incredible lips, just to see if they still tasted like sun ripened fruit, and felt like velvet under his.
He offered her his hand. “You’re all grown up.” He hoped his grin didn’t make him look like a predator. He was feeling just a little bit that way. She’d always had that affect on him.
She tossed her head and laughed. “Ten years will do that to you.” She cocked her head. “You look good.”
“Thanks.”
The big, black man standing next to her had been glaring at him since he’d first spoken. The man finally offered an enormous hand.
“Detective Malek Stevens. You can call me Sir.”
Jurden laughed but was disconcerted to see that Rissa’s partner didn’t.
Apparently he wasn’t kidding.