Flavors of Ecstasy III

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Excerpts From: ELLORA´S CAVEMEN: FLAVORS OF ECSTASY III

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.

An Excerpt From: CHERRY TART

Copyright © ANGELIA SPARROW & NAOMI BROOKS, 2009

"Ulysses," she tasted the name. "It suits you, wandering among the stars for ten years to find a home." She giggled. "Pity Father´s naming traditions won. Mother wanted to name me Penelope."

They reached the end of the promenade and turned to walk back.

Ulysses looked down at her. "I like your name. Does it suit you as well?"

Chastity looked up and rolled her eyes in a gesture so unladylike her mother would faint to see it, were she not six years dead. "Dreadfully." She cast her eyes down and made her mouth small and modest. "I´m a scandal. Hence my being packed off to the Colonies with my auntie, rather than left on Earth to blacken the family name."

Ulysses´ smile was pure wolf and heartbreaker dimples flashed in his cheeks. "And have you promised to mend your ways already, or not until we arrive?"

"I have mended but not by my choice. I never promise anything I am uncertain I can fulfill."

"I see." He sounded thoughtful. "You did respond to the note, however."

She winked and ducked behind her fan. "That was no promise. It was only...investigation."

"Has the lady detective found me to her liking?"

She lowered the fan. "You are a fast thinker, too clever by half and very handsome."

"Thank you. And you are lovely. So lovely. May I kiss you, my pretty, scandalous Chastity?" He paused them near a small alcove.

Etiquette called for her to scream and beat him until help arrived. Instead, Chastity gave him wide green eyes that never failed to tempt a man more and rapped his arm with her fan.

Ulysses kept smiling. "Yes?" He leaned closer, his mouth not far from hers. She gave a small nod. He tucked her into the alcove, shielding her from passing eyes with his own large body and pressed his lips to her own.

The sweetness of the kiss took her by surprise and she melted under it. His arms went `round her waist and hers went around his neck as the kiss deepened. It filled her whole world and when his tongue entreated for entrance, she granted it.

No one had kissed her with such passion, exploring every corner of her mouth, savoring every instant. The honorable suitors back home had stolen chaste, sweet pecks of her lips. Those with less honor had taught her too much, but had been furtive and nasty about it. And William...but she shoved the thought of her treacherous fiancé away.

As the passions welled in her, she grew aware of wetness between her thighs and the way her corset restrained her bosom. She pulled away from the lips that were near to scorching her own, a little frightened of her own desire and patted herself back into some semblance of presentability.

"Very nice, sir." She watched him catch his breath and hid her smile at the stirrings she had caused within him, made clearly visible by the tightness of his trousers.

"I´d ask you to go dancing, but I´m not allowed on your deck." He hadn´t released her waist.

"Have you something nice to wear?" she asked, thrilled by the idea. Chastity loved dancing, especially with very large men. The knowledge there had been dancing every other night had been a torment to her.

"Not very nice. I have a suit, but it´s old."

She gave him a wicked look. "Steal something. There´s a gentleman about your height in first class. He´s older and never goes out. Borrow his suit and return it unharmed and no one will notice. Look like you belong somewhere and with me on your arm, no one will question us."

"I´ll find what I can," he promised, releasing her and bringing both her hands to his lips.

"I´ll be in the Gold Salon at ten. Now I must go or Auntie will worry." She looked up at him. "One more kiss."

He gave it, more briefly than their first, but with even more heat behind it. She decided she liked Mr. Ulysses Carter a great deal.

"Now you know why I´m a scandal," she said and hurried back to her stateroom.

An Excerpt From: CLIMBING THE CORPORATE LADDER WITH PANTIES

Copyright © COURTNEY BEE, 2009

 Eep! She felt the heat creep across her cheeks when she realized that he´d caught her. She thought she´d been subtle. Her head was turned just slightly from her computer, a quick glance had turned into a long stare. And the long stare must have shown what she was thinking, because Brad´s head snapped toward her and suddenly he was shooting her a wicked grin.

"Don´t flatter yourself," she said in a fierce whisper. "I was staring at...at a huge ink stain. It´s very unsightly."

His grin widened. "I see. And does this ink stain happen to be located on my ass?"

"Just fix the printer."

"Yes ma´am."

"And don´t call me ma´am. Old ladies with porcelain cat figurines are ma´ams."

He bent over the printer, giving her another fine view of his ass. She quickly turned back toward her computer.

"You may not look like a ma´am, but you´re starting to acquire the persona."

She growled audibly. "What´s that supposed to mean?"

"It means, dear Kate, that you need to lighten up."

She grabbed a pen and jabbed his smug ass with enough force to produce an "ouch!"

He turned and offered another maddening grin. "Someone´s got quite a bit of pent-up energy today. I can help you release it, if you´re so inclined."

"I´m not. Never will be."

It had become their daily routine ever since Brad joined the office´s tech team. Kate´s initial shock over his rugged brown eyes, rebelliously shaggy hair and infectious grin quickly gave way to annoyance. He was always trying to make her laugh, always looking at her, always saying something just subtle enough not to qualify as sexual harassment but wicked enough to make her blush. He was, admittedly, rather clever with his little quips, but definitely annoying. Cocky. He was always giving her this "admit it-you like me" look. Which only made her more furious. Besides, even if she did like him, he was a fellow employee, and therefore off-limits. As an assistant editor-okay, intern-at the male-dominated Money Matters magazine, she had it hard enough without Brad swaggering around and causing her concentration to falter.

"All fixed," he said, patting the side of the printer.

"Good. You obviously didn´t fix it yesterday. Hopefully it´ll last a little longer before breaking down again."

He rolled his eyes and fished something out of his pocket. He handed her a barrette-her barrette.

"I found this jammed inside."

She swallowed hard. It must have slid from her hair when she´d leaned over to refill the paper cartridge. Crap.

"Yes, well, that´ll be all. You may go, computer boy."

He bowed. "Yes, Sheba. Let me know if there´s anything else I can do for you. Perhaps remove a lipstick tube from the copier? A bracelet from the coffeemaker?"

"Smart ass."

As he turned to leave Kate got a good look at his outline-broad shoulders, strong arms, and a walk that conveyed natural confidence. He was handsome in a Cro-Magnon sort of way, she supposed. But not her type. Kate had her life perfectly planned-get promoted to features writer and eventually editor, meet equally successful and ambitious male and form a timely union, and then, providing it wouldn´t interfere with her skyrocketing career, have a child or two. Her plans did not include a cocky tech support guy with bedroom brown eyes.

An Excerpt From: EIGHT SECONDS

Copyright © SHERRY JAMES, 2009

"Hey, Tomboy," the driver said.

Devlin.

Taylor´s breath froze in her throat. Devlin was back too soon. And he was here, seeing her as the tomboy he´d always teased her about being. Taylor´s toes scrunched in her boots and her fists tightened as she wished she could disappear beneath the snowdrift behind her. This wasn´t how she´d envisioned their first meeting in nearly eight months would play out. She was supposed to have that new haircut, that manicure and be feeling sexy and daring in that skimpy lingerie she had yet to buy. Seeing her like this, with her coveralls covered in snow and manure and smelling like a barn, he´d never agree to her request.

"Hey," she managed to say. Even though she was excited to see him, a huge wave of disappointment crashed over her, knowing her one and only opportunity to prove she was a woman and not just a rancher beneath all the denim and flannel was gone.

"I hear you´ve been asking about me," he drawled. He gave her a wink and cut the engine.

Taylor´s heart stopped. He knew? In spite of the cold, her cheeks warmed. She wanted to turn away, hide her makeup-free face from his gaze but he was just so darn handsome she couldn´t take her eyes off him. There was a new crescent-shaped scar to the right of his mouth, she noticed, yet his eyes were still the same deep shade of mahogany they´d always been. His cheeks were just as chiseled, his chin just as strong and determined as ever. His lips mesmerized her the most, though. They were smooth and tipped up in a sexy grin that made her heart kick into overdrive. What she wouldn´t give to feel those lips covering her own in a hard, demanding kiss, then trail lower to tantalize every erogenous zone on her body.

Taylor´s knees quivered, bringing her back to the reality that she was standing out in the cold, her tongue practically hanging out. Shifting her weight, she realized her nipples had peaked and not from the chill of the approaching night. She needed to get rid of him before she did something foolish, like yank him out of the pickup, throw him down into the snowdrift and rip open his clothes.

She turned toward the gate. Her foot caught in the drift, bringing her to her knees.

"Whoa. You all right?" he asked.

Taylor heard the concern in his voice but her panties pulling tight between her thighs, highlighting the dampness that pooled there, distracted her. All of these physical reactions were hitting her because she´d been staring at him? Wishing? Dreaming?

Boy, she had it bad. All the more reason to send him on his way. If she botched this meeting any further, she´d never get up the nerve to follow through with her seduction plan later, when she was ready.

"I´m fine," she said quickly. She braced her hands in the snow, pushing herself to her feet. Devlin´s subtle musky scent teased her nose, awakening every nerve in her body to full-blown desire for physical contact. He now only stood a few inches away. And his hand was wrapped around her left arm to boot. Her breath hitched. She hadn´t even heard him get out of the pickup, let alone heard his footsteps crunching in the snow as he walked over to help her. What the heck was the matter with her?

Daring to look up, she saw the darkening sky and his black cowboy hat shadowed much of his face but there was no mistaking the sexual heat smoldering deep in his eyes. Confused by what she saw, by what she felt, Taylor wanted to pull away and press her body into his, all at the same time.

With his other hand, he brushed the back of his gloved fingers over her cheek. The leather was soft, smooth and cold, but the caress felt as hot and intense as a glowing branding iron. Her mind reeled, wondering what was going on. Devlin had never touched her this way but her mind wasn´t worried about the rationality. She let her eyes flutter closed, silently begging him to never stop the simple, yet electrifying touch. A heart-wrenching ache for more pulsed through her veins, making her weak. She shivered from head to toe in naughty anticipation.

"Cold?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. His warm breath turned frosty white in the night air.

Could he really be interested in her as a woman and not as his best friend´s little sister? No. The freezing temperature and swirling snow had to be affecting her brain. He´d simply helped an old friend. She opened her eyes to make sure this was real and not her overly romantic imagination playing tricks on her. She studied his face and reminded herself that in all the years she´d known him, other than that one night after the summer rodeo, he had never shown any real interest in her beyond bestowing her with a round of teasing, or a joke here and there.

So, what had prompted this? He didn´t look or act as though he´d been drinking this time.

"I...uh." Her tongue felt thick in her mouth. Her heart still pounded in her chest. The calves began another round of bellowing, forcing her to remember the buckets of milk she´d set in the snow, no doubt now cold. "I need to finish chores." She turned to step away. He held fast, refusing to relinquish his hold. Even through his gloves and the canvas of her heavy chore coat, she could feel the heat of his touch.

"Don´t go."

An Excerpt From: PITCH BLACK

Copyright © FIONA JAYDE, 2009

Tucking a knife into a special pocket in her pants-a girl could never be too careful-Kate exited her room and nearly collided with one of Dubrov´s bodyguards. The one she´d kissed the night before.

Her blush was hot just like the air. "Excuse me, Nicholai." She murmured it in Russian, feeling her body temperature following suit. He wasn´t gorgeous-not Hollywood gorgeous, at least. A lean, long body, hard but not too thick under the dark German suit that was becoming standard wear for bodyguards and businessmen in this part of the world.

She couldn´t quite tell the color of his eyes-gray, green or blue. His hair-dark blond-was cropped close to his skull and not spiked up like most men did these days. His cheekbones were Slavic high, his lips unsmiling and straight, and firm and tempting when he´d kissed her on the balcony last night. And like an idiot she´d lost her head and let him, knowing that anyone could see them through the sliding doors.

He wedged in after her into the glass deathtrap that was the elevator. Raised a blond eyebrow as if asking her where she´d like to go.

"Umm... Lobby please." She really should stop staring at him, Kate thought, and ran a hand through the loose blonde strands of hair that had escaped her braid. If he had known exactly who he had been playing tonsil hockey with, he´d probably have shot her on the spot. With any luck, she would be on a plane to Moscow by tomorrow.

She focused on the lights of downtown Kiev spread before her-and not on the man who crossed his arms across his chest while the elevator gently glided down.

Then time suddenly stopped and the lit city became a dark bottomless pit.

Another blackout. Kate pressed her hands to the surprisingly cool glass and concentrated on her breathing. Her senses went to high alert, as if somehow the outage affected her directly.

Except it did. There was a man with her-a man who smelled of soap and aftershave and somehow managed to be standing much closer than she´d expected. Silence settled around them like a warm blanket, the only sounds Kate heard were her own heartbeat and his soft, steady breaths.

"Power outage," he whispered in perfect English, his mouth a hairsbreadth from her ear. Too close for any semblance of sanity.

"Hopefully it´ll turn back on soon." Her voice matched his in softness. Kate wondered if he heard the tremble in it.

"We have a little while."

She felt his breath over her cheek and then his mouth found hers. Sweet, firm, and gentle. The shock of it had her melting against him. She let him press her back against the glass, his body-God, it was so solid-fitted along hers. Fleetingly she thought of the last time he´d kissed her, the hunger she´d felt in his hands and mouth. This was subtly different, tender and somehow calculated and as erotic as all hell.

His hands were light over her bare arms, stroking, just stroking, close to her breasts, nearly brushing at their sides. Cruising his lips over her mouth, her jaw, her throat, nibbling, sampling. The stubble on his skin rasped delicately at her flesh, and she gasped for breath as his teeth grazed the tendon on her neck. The heat around her was nothing to what pooled inside her belly.

Between her clenching thighs, she felt herself already creaming. She should do...something. Not stand there like some dumbstruck teenager. Except her body became pliant, languid. His.

Another ragged breath as he put both his hands around her throat, long fingers cupping her nape under her hair, thumbs stroking her neck while she swallowed.

And still she couldn´t see him.

"Let me touch you." His growl was a soft promise in her ear.

An Excerpt From: SHIFTING SIDES

Copyright © CHERYL DRAGON, 2009

Kiren turned suddenly and her green eyes flashed with recognition and relief Breman wanted to see. No anger or fear reflected in her body language and he knew her well enough to read every muscle twitch.

"Long time no see." He leaned on the wall next to her and felt something move under his shoulder.

Out of nowhere the vault doors slid shut with no chance to make an escape. He stared at it, stunned. Nothing with power still worked on this planet as far as he knew. The backup to this deep vault had somehow remained untouched. A pressure trigger? A booby trap?

"What did you do?" She ran to the door and tried to move it.

He threw all his strength into helping her but it was no use. "I don´t know what happened. Everything electronic here is dead."

"Obviously not or it´s a different sort of lock. What are you doing here anyway?" She turned to him, her angled features furrowed in frustration.

"I needed to see you. You´re okay?" he asked.

"I´m fine. I can take care of myself. How´s your rebel colony?" She tried the switch for the door and examined the wall for a switch or trigger. Finally she slammed it with her fist.

Breman was in no hurry to escape. A captive audience would help but her heat and scent distracted him from logic. "Good. Safe. Free. You´d be happy there. No experiments or captivity." He slid a hand on her tense shoulder. Kiren didn´t want to be locked anywhere. Neither did he but being locked up with her made it better.

She relaxed a bit under his touch. "The experiments don´t happen anymore. Nothing like that with the new government. I work recovering items and I´m not a captive. You and your shifters can live like wild animals-I won´t."

"It´s not that bad. Shifters are free. Some have human mates. Some live in packs while some live as humans and only shift when they feel the need. We´re not the only ones the government oppressed. You´re sure you don´t want to try freedom. Do you like a leash?" He moved behind her and pressed his chest to her back. Kiren´s skin was always so soft.

All the things he´d longed to do with her rushed to mind. All the things the scientists made them do left him wary of her reaction. One shift and a swipe of her claws and he´d be dead.

Judging the risk worth it, he nuzzled the back of her neck, brushing her long brown hair aside. "I´ve missed you."

Kiren leaned into him. "You know there is a death order out on you from New Earth. You´re considered dangerous."

He pulled her closer and her rear brushed his erection. "Don´t you ever wonder about it? The freedom. All the things they´d never let us do?"

"They were experimenting with our reproductive capabilities. If it didn´t result in potential pregnancy..." She shuddered.

"The shock collars are gone." He held her, letting his hands glide over the curve of her hip and onto her flat stomach. "I wanted you before the experiments. I don´t care about reproduction. I want you still."

"All the things we couldn´t do." Her voice cracked as her fingers pulled his hands up. "I´ve thought about it."

Her high round breasts felt warm and her hard nipples pressed to his palms. Relief and arousal mixed in him. She wanted him now-not just in captivity.

Breman turned her and pressed her back to the wall. They could be locked here forever for all he cared. He kissed her mouth slowly and then deepened it as her arms pulled him closer. No rush of people watching, no pressure to perform-only here and now could he sample and seduce her.

Her hands worked down his back and cupped his ass. Kiren´s eagerness aroused him more. He looked around, waiting for the shock correction. Finally he laughed at himself. They were truly alone. He didn´t have to share her with others or hide anything from the prying eyes of the scientists. They weren´t going to be watched and that fact only made it harder to control his need for her.

"No one is watching. We´re free. I want your tongue on my body. Your mouth." She kissed his throat.

He wanted that so badly his own mouth went dry. "What about the death order? You don´t want to kill me?"

Kiren smiled up at him. "Right now I want you alive. We deserve this much."

An Excerpt From: THE JOHNSON OBSESSION

Copyright © LYLA SINCLAIR, 2009

The night it happened I´d been keeping vigil on the balcony of my second-floor apartment. It was Friday, August 26th. The date is burned into my brain because it appears just below the time on my alarm clock next to my bed, and I spent a lot of time facing it that night while he-

Well, I´m getting ahead of myself. Back to the vigils. As ridiculous as it felt sometimes, this had become my daily after-work ritual. I´d come home from my stupid, boring bookkeeping job, open a bottle of wine and sit in the lounge chair with my sketch pad-yes, this boring bookkeeper was a closet artist.

If anyone noticed me on the balcony, I´m sure they thought I was just relaxing after a day´s work, sketching the lovely flowers that grew around the swimming pool.

But if so, they couldn´t have been more wrong. For over six months, there´d been only one subject appearing in my drawings over and over again.

On every page. Of every pad.

His name was Duke Johnson, if you can believe that. I knew because, one time, our sorry excuse for a mail carrier had delivered Duke´s mail to me by mistake. During the months I´d been sketching him, I´d given him all kinds of names-Brad, Derrick, Stud Muffin-but I must admit the Duke thing kind of surprised me. Who names their kid Duke? I guess considering we were in California, he was just lucky it wasn´t spelled DuQue. Anything goes in Lala Land.

Anyway, the mail mix-ups had been happening constantly for about two months-since the new mail carrier took over-and it was pretty annoying most of the time. Until the one day I started to deliver some misdirected mail to another tenant and saw the back of that gorgeous tight ass-the one I´d recognize anywhere since I´d drawn it so many times-entering the door I was headed toward. I stopped, completely awed when I realized he looked even better at eye level than he did from up on my balcony. He didn´t see me. He walked inside and shut the door.

I looked down at the mail again and realized I finally had an actual name to put to all those pages in my sketchbooks. Duke lying in a lounge chair by the pool in his mirrored sunglasses. Duke swimming, the muscles in his arms bulging with each stroke. Duke emerging from the pool, droplets of water clinging to his skin, running down his chest and over his abs-his drop-dead beautiful killer abs.

Gradually, during those six months´ worth of sketches, my imagination had taken over and I´d started taking liberties with my drawings. Duke began doing all kinds of things I hadn´t seen him do in real life. I drew him in the positions and locations where he´d appeared in my fantasies.

So there I was with his mail in my hot, sweaty little hand. This was my chance to finally meet him in person. I could examine all those virile muscles on his six-foot-tall body up close. Better yet, when he´d entered his apartment he was still in his swimming shorts and shirtless, the way he was so many afternoons by the pool.

But when I got to his door I started thinking how he was way out of my league. I was certain he´d been one of the cool kids back in school, while I was a wallflower-more wall than flower-with mousy brown hair, mud-brown eyes and a violin. I knew on some level that I´d outgrown that awkwardness and wasn´t so bad now, yet I never could feel it. I was so used to going unnoticed that I couldn´t bear to put on clothes that made anyone take notice of me. I looked down at the gray business suit I was wearing and thought about the black claw holding up my boring hair and...

I completely lost my nerve, like I always did with men. I dropped the mail on the floor in front of his door and hurried off to drown my cowardice in a tub of chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream. Then, I mentally kicked myself until my brain was black and blue.

All I´d learned from the experience was that, first, I was even more of a wuss than I´d ever imagined, and second, Duke Johnson was living in the apartment directly below mine.