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."
