Sylvie Kaye

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Her Sinful Secret

Her Sinful Secret Copyright, Sylvie Kaye
Unedited excerpt

Curiosity brought Wendy to the cozy Italian restaurant and a table reserved for Max Kanton. She was twenty minutes early and he hadn’t arrived yet.

Even though they’d emailed back and forth the past week, and he’d seemed witty and intelligent, her stomach jittered. Suppose he really was only thirty-two. To calm herself, she doodled a sketch on the wine list of the flickering candle in its angled holder. Her palms dampened, so she wiped them on her linen napkin, tossed the pen back into her purse and sipped ice water to keep her vocal chords from drying up with sudden panic as the hour ticked closer.

“Wendy.” A male voice, deep and low, vibrated through her.

She looked up. Wow. He was hotter and more gorgeous than his picture. Doubt flooded her with little hope that he was older than he claimed. She didn’t know if she could handle a ten-year age difference, although her pulse, fluttering with immediate interest, thought it was no problem.

She inhaled him as his masculine presence surrounded her. He smelled faintly of a woodsy, musky cologne. Sexy, desirable, thrilling. He was dressed in dark slacks and a dark shirt, well-tailored. His belt and shoes were expensive leather.

When he touched her shoulder, a shiver skittered across her flesh. His fingers were long and warm and lingering. Hunger seeped through to her core. It had been a long time since she’d desired a man who was real and within touching distance. Carnal memories flooded her veins with throbbing heat.

Under Cover Heat

© Copyright, Sylvie Kaye

“It’s the best and safest solution.” Plucking the stupid paper umbrella from my drink, I stabbed at the cocktail napkin next to my glass to make my point. “I’m tired of wasting my time on guys who have no intentions outside of the bedroom. I keep mistaking lust for love. If I had a male friend for booty calls, I’d stop falling in and out of bed with the wrong man in the heat of passion.”

“Lori, it can’t be that bad.” Nate took a lazy pull from his longneck beer bottle and eyed me with a speculative glint I’d never seen before.
The tiny umbrella dropped from my hand as heat raced through my body. His masculine scent circled my head, and the song, “If You Think I’m Sexy,” rushed my brain.

“What Nate said,” Marla agreed before answering her cell and putting a stop to the “If You Think I’m Sexy” tune—which had been playing on her phone and not in my head.

What a relief. I didn’t need sexy songs in correlation to Nate. He was my childhood playmate. I couldn’t allow myself to get the hots over a guy who had been like a brother, could I?

Marla gestured for me to go on while she uh-huh-ed the party on the other end of her call.

“Since I’ve quit dating duds, I’ve spent many a night alone with my toys. Last night in my queen-size bed, beneath the sleekness of my black satin sheets, even they didn’t work. I need a flesh-and-blood, testosterone shooting man.”

“Tell us more.” Nate’s voice took on an unusual, sultry tone, thick and slow like sap dripping from a maple tree.

Marla punched in the numbers to her voicemail while I sipped my icy drink, which didn’t cool me down at all. She waved her hand for me to continue.
“I need more stimulation than lying on my back with an electronic aide,” I mused. “I need real hands and a mouth. Variety in positions.” I suddenly realized why Nate had this sudden effect on me. We’d never talked about explicit sex before. Desperation had loosened my lips and given us both crazy ideas today.

When his gaze dropped to my throat, the tender flesh thrummed for the touch of his mouth, his teeth, tugging and pulling. I held my breath for a moment, not believing my body’s reaction. To ward off the startling throb of my nipples and the hot flashes zapping my other erogenous zones, I squeezed my legs together and fished an ice cube from my drink to suck on.

Marla flipped her cell shut, a dreamy smile curving her lips. She must’ve received a heck of a message. “I’m so lucky to find true love with Matt at Lumber World.”

“I want what you have.” Glad for Marla while sad for myself, I hid my envy beneath a smile. “Until then, I’ll settle for safe, steady sex with a friendly partner. I need a man to maintain my sex life until true love comes along and zaps him out of the picture.”

“It’s a great deal for the guy, too,” Marla said. “A guaranteed lay. No guesswork at the end of the night.”

“I’m up for the task.” Nate glanced down at his lap with a sleepy-lidded look that suggested he’d risen to the occasion.

Loving Jilly

© Copyright, Sylvie Kaye

This close up, he smelled tantalizing, like soap and spicy cologne and new cut wood. The softest, grayest eyes stared at her, not in the least bit stormy or steely as she would’ve expected in such a muscular, authoritative man. His eyes were as luminous and distracting as a Cajun moon. Despite her ticking wristwatch, her tummy took time out to pay tribute with a dip, alerting every fiber of her being to his male sensuality.
“The name’s Bigatowsky. Zachary.” His voice was low, deep, and vibrated through her chest with a delightful thrum.
Her interest piqued, along with her nipples, which strained against the confines of her bra and blouse.
“What can I do for you, lady?” His tone sounded rough like sandpaper.
Flashes of heat shot through her body. “I might be interested in hiring you.” She licked her suddenly dry lips.
And doing him, if her body had its way.
“Uh-huh,” he grunted, removing his hardhat and ruffling his fingers through his damp, sandy-brown hair, where an eye-catching touch of silver-gray touched the temples.
Nice, real nice. She sucked in her breath. She’d never gone for the gruff type. Who’d have thought they had so much sex appeal?
Her gaze strayed to his left hand. No glint of a ring. Ann, Jilly’s co-worker and self-appointed Dear Abby, advised, “Always check a man’s ring finger and never believe he’s single unless you see a sworn statement or hear testimony from his priest and confessor.”
“Are you available?” She’d been much too long without a man. It came out sounding like a proposition. She hurried to add, “To hire.”
He was ideal for multitasking. Maybe she could hire him and hit on him.

Excerpt from Wrong Side of Love

They played toss games, the money going to the school fund. They ate and drank, the profits also going to the school fund.
And they danced. Under the stars on the outdoor planks set up for the festivities.
She snuggled against Luc’s tall, athletic body and closed her eyes and let herself go. She let money and work worries slip away. The only thing in her world at the moment was the sexy man holding her in his arms and the music they swayed to.
His jaw nestled her temple. His hand rested on the cleft of her butt, its heat radiating through the denim of her jeans, sending sizzling urges clear through to her core.
She was aware of his every heartbeat and breath, his every nerve and muscle as their bodies moved in sync, slow and natural.
“Hmm. You smell great, tonight. What’s that called?”
“Soap.” She grinned up at him. “No, it’s really called, Lilies. Kind of appropriate, don’t you think?”
“I like it. I’d like to see you wearing it and nothing else,” he whispered. “I’ve dreamed of your naked body.”
“You have?” she said for something to say while she stared into his eyes.
“Uh-huh. Have you dreamed of me naked?” He winked. “Don’t go shy on me,” he teased, his voice bedroom low.
“I’ve given a thought or two about you in the buff. Running my hands over your muscles, licking your skin—”
“I get the point. No need to show everybody my rising interest when I walk off the floor.”
She nudged her hips closer to his, cuddled his groin with her crotch. “Oh, you are hot for me, aren’t you?” She purred into his ear so no one around them would hear.
She’d pretty much made up her mind that tonight was the night. She’d indulge her fancy and have her way with Luc. The hell with waiting. She needed some rollicking fun in her life now. And Luc was more than ready to rollick.
“What are you doing after the fireworks?”
“Whatever you want, beautiful.”
She sucked in her lower lip about to make her proposal when something popped and the sky lit up.
“It’s too early for fireworks.” She looked at the darkening sky and then at her wristwatch. The scheduled time was nine sharp. It was barely eight-thirty.
A loud murmur went through the crowd. People began running. A siren sounded.

Excerpt from Banned in Texas

© Copyright, Sylvie Kaye

The air kicked out of his lungs. Beneath the purplish-red cast of a papery light, a sultry figure stood, shadowy and provocative.
How had he missed such a sexy stranger? His blood roiled, elevating his pulse. She was new to their rural community all right. He knew every eligible, and not so eligible, lady within a hundred-mile radius of the RFD Singles Dance.
He should. He’d frequented the place for so many years he felt like a friggin’ alumni.
Tommy Joe let out a chortle. “I can tell by your drool you pinpointed her.”
Cole ignored him, keeping his eyes plastered to the auburn-haired beauty with the killer body while he gauged his chances.

Excerpt from Her Maine Man

© Copyright, Sylvie Kaye

Unedited and Unproofed
He leaned her up against a fairly clean sink, by mens room’s standards, and hugged her tight as he kissed her. Their lips touched like dynamite.
“Hurry,” she whispered through the explosion.
He kissed her harder and faster, but couldn’t pull away regardless how much she wanted him to hurry. She tasted so mind-bendingly delicious. Her body curved into his, fitting him like a glove. Her breasts crushed against his chest, sending jolts of passion to his groin, while her crotch cradled his in the most enticing manner. Blood rushed to both of his heads. His brain throbbed and his cock swelled.
“Hurry,” her gravelly whisper instructed him while she yanked his shirttails from his waistband.
Could she want him to hurry and do what he thought she wanted him to do? What his dick begged him to do.
“Maddie, hunee,” he murmured against her lips, awaiting further instructions. He didn’t want to scare her off if she didn’t mean for him to hurry with more than the lingering kiss.
“Tkdwnyrpantz,” she mumbled into his mouth.
Did she just tell him to take down his pants?
She must have. She was fumbling for his fly.
He helped her out by unzipping, while she hiked up her pretty purple skirt. “Hurry up,” she coached yet again.
Yes, she wanted what he wanted all right, and his erection did a happy dance. When he hitched her buns higher on the slick porcelain sink, liquid soap splurted over his wrist and her back, but she didn’t seem to notice. She grabbed at his butt and pulled him closer, her arm squirting more sterile hand soap around, while her fingers tightened their grip on his ass. His cock bumped against her moist heat, but her panty-covered crotch denied him entrance

“Wait.” He fumbled for quarters and plunked them into the condom machine. “Convenient, huh?”
She laughed deep in her throat, but as soon as he was protected, her mouth became demanding. “Now.”
He shoved the crotch of her silky panties aside and entered her. She felt so damn good. She was tight and wet and torturously in a hurry when he desired to go at it slow. Enjoy every twitch of her muscles and tremor of her flesh.
“Faster.” The woman wasn’t shy with her directives. But he didn’t care. He was in control of the action.
He braced his hand against the chrome hand dryer so he had better mastery of his hips as he drove into her slickness with a steady, rocking rhythm. A blast of hot air shot at him, but it didn’t stop him. He figured he wouldn’t be here long enough for third degree burns. His other hand he butted against the mirror for additional support. If they got busted for performing indecent acts in a public restroom his fingerprints would be all over the place.
“Faster,” she gasped, digging her fingers into his back while her kickass sneakers urged his butt on.
Between her cries to speed things along and the hot dryer burning the palm of his hand, taking her slow and easy didn't seem much of an option. His desire to give her whatever she needed along with his fear of her changing her mind about meeting next year urged him on further and faster. He pumped his hips for all he was worth.
Closing her eyes, she tossed her head back. He dropped his forehead onto her sternum, driving hard and quick.
She moaned louder and then lower and panted for air. Her fingers no longer grated his back, but massaged it lightly. Her whopper sneakers stopped smacking his behind. She was done. So he went for the mother lode and unloaded with two more pumps.
“Very convenient,” she said afterward when he unpeeled the latex and flushed it down the commode next to the sink. She swiped at his penis with some toilet tissue, then zipped him up.

Excerpt from The Devil In Cowboy Boots

© Copyright, Sylvie Kaye

            She spotted the dark, daring demon once again. Dressed in black, he almost blended into the night. Confident and handsome, he uncrossed his booted foot and his arms and turned to face her.

            His black jeans, snug on his lean hungry hips, made her suck in her bottom lip. The man was hot. She was going to burn. Maybe get more involved than she wanted. But at the moment she didn’t care. Her feet kept stride with the thrumming music.

            The honed muscles of his arms beneath the sleeves of his black shirt flexed, giving away his anticipation. She arched her brow. A hint of a smile touched her lips and her high-heeled steps quickened.

            When she was in front of him, face to face, the music stopped, and her surroundings faded away. No one else in the standing-room-only club and nothing else along the bustling river existed, just her and him. Her heart hammered, her knees went weak. But she stood her ground and looked into his eyes. They weren’t black, but dark, dark brown. Liquid almost. She could drown in them.

            His mouth was full, firm, sinful. And waiting.

            “I’ll bet you’re one of the original sins,” she said, sure that he was.

            He cracked a devilish smile. “Babe, I’m all of them.”

Excerpt from Never Dare a Cowboy

Coming into town with her had been a mistake. One he planned on never making again. He hadn't been able to resist that saucy little mouth or that saucy little outfit. Saucy was going to get him into a heap of trouble.

All afternoon he'd alternated between wanting to turn her on and wanting to turn her off. One minute he was flirting with her, and the next he was fighting with her. While it vexed him, he hadn't really minded either too much. What he did mind was breaking his own rules. Regardless how amusing he found that smart mouth and those flashing green eyes, or how sexy he thought those long shapely legs and that peek of cleavage, by the end of the month she'd be gone. And that was against the rules.

Now what was she doing? The dang truck was covered with suds, and she was stretching over the hood with that blasted wand squirting more soap. That round little rump of hers was squirming within reaching distance. He flexed his fingers and cracked his knuckles before re-crossing his arms and tucking his hands safely under his armpits. His breathing was getting shallow. His lungs burned. His mouth went dry.

Thank goodness, she finally moved on. He could breathe easy again.

Or could he? Now, her bottom was bent over the hub of the front wheel. The backs of those long legs were exposed all the way up to her sweet spot. The hem of that culotte thing she was wearing stopped a mere inch below the jointure of her thighs. His hard flesh was throbbing against his zipper, begging for release.

Her fanny sashayed over to the rear fender, to do a deep-knee bend next to the tire. He was in pain here, in physical pain. Both his lungs and his fly were bursting for release.

At last she sidled to the back of the truck, out of the line of his sight. He gulped in a great gasp of air and shifted the foot braced against the wall, lowering it a bit.

Then, she swung back into sight. She was reaching across the hood again, facing him this time. Her chest was flattened against the pink metal, and an enticing amount of cleavage was pushing up over the neck of her top. Beads of perspiration were breaking out on his upper lip and along his forehead. The hair follicles under his hat were singing. If he was capable of walking, he'd trot over there and snatch that wand from her hand and start rinsing the soap from the offensive pink truck, so they could get the heck out of here. If he could walk.

Kill me, please. He blinked in disbelief. Creamy white soapsuds dripped between the crease of her twin crests, conjuring up erotic images that didn't belong out in sunny daylight. Now the suds were running down her belly, ending who knows where. He didn't even want to speculate. But he did anyway.

When she swiped the soap away, the front of her dress was wet, molded against her, outlining her nipples, which were peaked and daring him to...to do nothing. He had to get out of here. He dropped his booted foot to the ground with a clunk and tested his balance. Painful as it would be, he had to walk. He pulled his T-shirt out of his waist band to cover the tightness in his Levi's.

"It's hot. Want a soda?" he threw over his shoulder as he sauntered away, limping.

He thought he disliked the woman. Now he knew he outright hated her. While he'd been winning rounds, she'd won the bout. With a jab well below the belt.

He intended to give her a wide berth from now on. No more trips to town, no more nice talk. She was deadly. And he wanted to live.

Excerpt from Nobody's Angel

His eager mouth continued to work over hers. She gasped to suck in a bit of air. Just as her jacket slithered to the carpeted floor and she was about to follow, the elevator car dropped. She grasped the railing to keep her balance. The elevator bounced with a hefty bounce. She figured they must have finally hit the ground level.

"We're here." The words tumbled from his lips, not sounding the least disappointed.

Krista sighed her disappointment and finger combed her hair in an attempt to look presentable before entering the lobby. Quickly, she smoothed down her skirt and picked up her jacket and shoes from the elevator's carpeted floor. With a loud whoosh and a gush of cooling air, the doors hissed opened.

Dirk swung her up into his arms. Her shoes and jacket dangled from her fingers. Numbers danced before her eyes. 501. 503. No doubt about it. This was not the lobby.

"Put me down," she giggled, squirming in his strong arms. "What will people think?"

He stopped in the middle of the empty hallway. "They'll think you're saving your strength for other things." His hazel eyes held hers.

She should tell him to shush up. She should tell him she wasn't the other-things-kind-of-girl. But suddenly she wanted to be. She nuzzled her head under his clean-shaven chin. He smelled of a musky aftershave. She cuddled up against his broad chest. Although her tall, muscled birthday gift lacked glitzy paper and a bow, she all but drooled over the idea of him doing a slow peel.

He moved down the hall in long strides. She watched their combined shadow darken the burgundy-and-gray stripes on the wallpaper. Doors with brass plates slipped by. 507. 509.

Dinner, dancing, and being carried off to a man's room, oh, but this was going to be one outrageously romantic birthday to remember all right.

Excerpt from Luring Jessie

Jesse had to keep his head buried in the mattress so she wouldn't notice the grin on his face. His back was strong as a mule's. He'd lucked out with this idea. Big time. It had gotten her off the floor and into his bed. He stifled a satisfied chuckle by stuffing his face further into the green coverlet.

His muscles were tight all right, but from sexual tension, not any kind of injury.

"Ooooh, that feels good," he mumbled into the bed. "I'm ready for you to work me over. Er, work my spine over."

"Okay, but let me know if I hit any raw nerves. The minute you feel any pain, you poor baby, you tell me." Then she started a slow, gentle massage on the vertebrae in his neck.

She hit nerves all right. Every nerve in his body screamed for her touch. And a few muscles besides.

"Mmmm, that feels great, Little Ladybug." He wriggled his hips beneath her. Her soft bottom resting on his firmer one tantalized him. He wondered what she'd think if he flipped her over and reversed their positions. She'd definitely know where his pain was located then.

Her nimble fingers were mid-back now. If his hormones weren't so all fired up, he could've relaxed and enjoyed the massage. She certainly was good at it.

"Have you ever thought of chiropractic or massage therapy?" he asked.

"I never have." Her breathy reply whispered along his neck, and a shiver threatened to crawl up his spine. He had to fight hard to control it. The last thing he needed was for her to know how bad he wanted her. He'd lose everything, that's for sure.

"Aaaah," he sighed aloud. Her gentle hands massaged a low spot on his spine that he hadn't realized could arouse him.

"Poor baby, did I hurt you?"

Her hands stopped. His arousal stopped. Well, almost.

"No, no pain. It felt good," he muttered.

She pressed with her thumbs into the furrows alongside his spine. "This should ease any tight ligaments."

She was easing nothing. His desire was rock hard and throbbing for her attention.

"This should increase your flexibility, too." Her voice whispered across his neck again.

He figured this was his chance. He could show off his newfound flexibility and give her the credit to boot. With hands swift as Jesse James' in a shootout, he rolled over and grabbed her waist before she could topple. He grinned up at her. Now, instead of his butt, she straddled his hips, and with that blue silk nightgown all bunched up around her hips, too.

"It worked, Little Ladybug. Look how flexible you've made me." He feigned an innocent expression.

"I'm beginning to suspect your back wasn't all that sore." She tried to scramble away, but he held her firmly.

"You have to admit this is a lot more comfy than the floor." As he spoke he slipped one hand upward until his palm cradled the nape of her neck. Then he dipped her head downward, ever so slowly, until their lips touched. Lightly, ever so lightly, he kissed her mouth.

"Jesse," she said breathlessly against his lips. "Do-do you want to talk?" Her blue eyes brightened as she waited for his reply.

"No. No talk. We've already talked plenty."

Talking was the last thing on his mind. Her silky blond hair swung down from her face and brushed his cheek. Both her voice and that silky feeling were mesmerizing. He couldn't talk now. He couldn't even think. All he could do was react.

He entwined his fingers with hers and tugged. When she was flush against his chest, he kissed her again. Long and hard. And then soft and sweet. And then hard again. He couldn't seem to get enough of her honey-flavored mouth. Until she sputtered words out through the kiss.

"W-w-wait," Lynda said in soft gasps. Her instinct for survival flickered somewhere beneath his smothering kisses. "Wait," she managed to say again as she pushed away and held herself at arm's length.

"Wait for what?"

"Till we talk this through. I don't think you were listening when I said I wouldn't sleep with a man who just wanted me to have babies."

"Well, now, that's not what you said, Little Ladybug. I listen to every word you say, whether I like them or not. You said you wouldn't have babies with a man who didn't love you. I'm not after babies at the moment."