Dance of Seduction (15 page)

“You’re really an amazing young woman, you know that, Tanya Rose Kendrick?”

“I had a pretty good role model.” Tanya’s sigh rang out from the other end of the line. “Now don’t screw this up, Mother. Like I said, Josh is a hottie. Not only that, but he’s smart, kind and totally into you.”

When Vivian glanced at Josh again she found herself looking at him in a new light. “I love you, honey,” she said into the receiver.

“I love you too. Now stop acting like a child and tell the guy how you feel.”

Vivian choked back a laugh as she hung up the phone. Her twenty-four-year-old daughter calling her a child? Well, that was new.

“So?” Josh said. He crossed his arms over his rain-soaked T-shirt, looking expectant.

“She told me not to screw this up.”

“She’s right.”

He stepped closer, planted both hands on her hips and thrust his body against hers. From the end of the counter, Joey the bartender coughed and shuffled away toward the back room. Alone with Josh, Vivian searched his cobalt-blue eyes and asked, “You seriously want to pursue this?”

“Yes.”

She swallowed. “I don’t know if I’ll go back to San Francisco, Josh.”

“Then we’ll just have to do it long-distance.” He grinned. “I hear phone sex is wild.”

“And if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then it doesn’t work out. At least give us a chance.” He tightened his grip on her waist and lowered his head so that his lips were inches from hers. “Will you give us a chance, Vivian?”

Her chest ached, but this time it had nothing to do with fear or guilt or shame. It had everything to do with pure and simple joy. “My daughter will kill me if I say no.”

“Then you better say yes.”

She laughed again. “Okay.”

“Okay what?”

“I’ll give us a chance.”

“Now that’s more like it.” With the grin never leaving his handsome face he dipped his head and kissed her until her knees turned to jelly and her limbs turned to liquid.

Until she felt younger and happier than she had in her entire life.

Luke couldn’t stop the laughter booming out of his chest. He stared at Ellie, wondering how she could possibly think she was protecting him by breaking things off. He didn’t need her protection. He was the bodyguard here. He should be protecting
her
. Taking care of her. So why wasn’t she giving him the chance to do that?

“What exactly are you scared of, Ellie?” he asked quietly. “Why did you run off after the car accident?”

She looked caught off-guard. “I just told you why.”

“Because you had to leave the ballet company?”

She nodded.

“And because you can’t have children?”

She nodded again.

“Why is that the end of the world?”

Her nostrils flared. “It’s the end of
my
world, Luke. What will I do if I can’t dance?”

He shrugged. “Teach? Go back to college? You’ve got options, Ellie.”

“And I bet you’re going to tell me I have options about the child issue too, right? Adoption. Surrogacy.” She gave a bitter smile. “Yeah, I know about those options. So did Scott, yet that didn’t stop him from dumping me, or telling me that I was damaged because I couldn’t give him a family.”

“Well, Scott’s an idiot. You’re not damaged,” he said, fighting back anger that she could even believe such a thing.

“So why do I feel so inadequate?” Her voice sounded forlorn.

“Because you’ve been trying to deal with all of it on your own these past six months. If you’d actually let someone in, allowed someone to help you, they would’ve told you that you are the farthest thing from inadequate.”

She bit her lip again. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’ll never be inadequate, baby,” he said softly. He moved closer, lifted one hand to her mouth and brushed his fingers over her lips. “In fact, you’re so much woman, sometimes I don’t think I can handle you.”

She blinked. “Really?”

“Really.” He reached for her hand and squeezed it. Her fingers felt cold so he rubbed them between his.

“But you said wanted to be a father.”

He sighed. “I do. And if you want, we can have a child, Ellie.” She opened her mouth but he cut her off. “Biology is overrated, anyway.”

The tears in her eyes made his heart ache. “You’d be okay with that?”

He stared at her in disbelief for a moment, then dipped his head and crushed his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply. When he pulled back, he said, “Ellie, I love you. I want to be with you. I don’t care if we adopt ten kids or zero kids. I’m happy as long as I’m with you.” He took a breath. “And now that I know what’s gotten you so damn scared, there’s nothing stopping us from being together. Except you.” He met her eyes. “Do you love me, Elenore?”

“You know I do.”

Her entire chest filled with warmth at her earnest words. “Then say it.”

She lifted her hand and swept it over his jaw. “I love you,” she whispered.

He grinned. “Louder.”

“I love you, Lucas.”

“Good.” He dipped his head and planted a light kiss on her lips. “Now let’s go home.”

About the Author

To learn more about Elle please visit
www.ellekennedy.com
. Send an email to
[email protected]
or visit her blog, the Sizzling Pens, at
http://sizzlingpens.blogspot.com
.

Look for these titles by Elle Kennedy

Now Available:

Bad Moon Rising

Coming Soon:

Midnight Encounters

Heat of the Moment

On the night the Cereus blooms, temptation paints a picture impossible to resist.

Night of the Cereus

© 2008 Anya Delvay

Artist’s model Melanie Fletcher likes to keep life simple, and painter Marcus Alejandro practically oozes complications. And sex appeal.

Posing for him, surrounded by the seductive scent of the night-blooming Cereus, Melanie’s self-imposed rules of a lifetime are slowly being undermined. She begins to wonder—would it really hurt to give in to her lust, just this once?

Initially drawn to the dichotomy between Melanie’s reserved exterior and hidden passion, Marcus soon discovers the more he gets from her, the more he wants. Her delicious body isn’t enough. He needs to know her intimately, both inside and out, but getting her to trust him is harder than he ever imagined.

How much can he ask for before she walks away?

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Night of the Cereus

“Stay.”

Melanie blinked, the reserve in her eyes deepening, hands sliding from his ass to rest lightly on his hips. Whether to hold on or to push him away, he couldn’t tell. It was in her voice too, mingled with surprise as she lied. “I wasn’t planning on leaving.”

Instead of challenging her, Marcus slid one hand free from her hair, reaching down to follow the line of her arm, capture her fingers and bring them to his lips. “Good,” he kissed the palm of her hand, “I don’t want you to think this will be a quickie.” Her muscles clenched fractionally and Marcus bent to rest his lips on her throat, just below her ear. A frantic pulse beat there, and he touched it with his tongue before murmuring, “I want to explore you, taste you, learn everything I can about you and your body. If that’s too much for you, now is the time to say so, before this goes any farther.”

Then he waited, absorbing her little shivers, soaking in the softness of her breasts and belly and thighs, the sweet scent of her. Cradling, and being cradled by her, suddenly afraid. Had he lost his mind? Why the hell had he given her an excuse to leave?

He wants too much, more than I can give. More than I want to give.

Yet she couldn’t seem to get her body to move, her feet to take the path back to her car. Instead there was a softening sensation deep in her belly, a heightened awareness of his strength, the solid, muscular form pressing her against the wall. Every breath he took caused his chest to rise and slide over her breasts, further inflaming nipples already sensitive to the point of pain.

He was wrong. Leaving hadn’t been on her mind…had it?

“Don’t try to complicate this, Marcus.”

She kept her voice calm, tried to make it cool, and he huffed, a cross between disbelief and a chuckle. Straightening to trail his hand along her arm, then cupping the side of her neck, he searched her eyes, his face tight and amused. “You prefer simple, Melanie? Or controllable?”

“Both.”

Yet even as she said it, she felt the lie. Yes, she usually went for uncomplicated encounters, where she could enjoy the physical and not worry about tomorrow. Chose men willing to take what she was willing to give, who didn’t want or demand more. Already she was past the usual with Marcus. Her control was slipping, questions and desires swirling inside, creating a ferment of feelings she could no longer identify. It was terrifying, enlivening, stimulating beyond any other experience of her life.

Marcus was still watching her, and it took every ounce of determination not to look away, or to show the truth on her face. The corners of his mouth twitched, and he spoke slowly, letting each word sink in.

“I think sometimes complicated and uncontrolled are good.” His hand moved suddenly, pulling at the buttons until her blouse sagged open. Running his finger along the edge of her lacy bra, he continued, “Simple would mean giving in to the impulse to lift your skirt and slide into that hot, wet, pussy, right here and now. Simple would mean fucking you against this wall, then walking you back to your car after we’ve come. Somehow, I don’t think simple will work for me tonight.”

Melanie’s legs trembled as she imagined him lifting her, his hard length sliding in, hands clutching her ass. God, she wanted that so bad. His words, the look in his eyes, heightened the sensation of his body against hers, brought her closer to the edge. The world narrowed, their surroundings disappeared, leaving only the two of them. This was desire, raw and more powerful than she thought possible.

“Just do it, Marcus.” There was no pretence left in her, only desire. Bringing a leg up behind his, she signalled her need with a tilt of her hips. “Don’t think so much, just do it.”

“I can’t.” The roughness in his voice startled her, even as the instinctive forward thrust of his hips made her moan. “I want more.”

“Tell me what you want. Or just take it.”

The words left her before she could stop them and her heart clenched, fear rushing up cold from her toes to her head then receding under a wave of heat as he shuddered. Without another word he stepped back and opened the door, waving her inside.

“If you mean that, come in.”

Melanie dug her fingers into the wall behind her, trying to steady herself, and find the strength to walk away. It was there, in the way he held himself still, the feral, almost ferocious expression, tightly clenched fists. If she stepped inside, Marcus would attempt to strip her bare, and she wasn’t sure he wouldn’t succeed.

Let him try. It will only get as complicated as you let it.

Frightened, exhilarated, aroused, Melanie pushed away from the wall and walked through the door.

Winning the lottery changes her life forever…in more ways than one.

Fortune’s Deception

© 2008 Karen Erickson

One minute Brittney Jones is living paycheck to paycheck, and the next she and three friends win a record-breaking lottery jackpot. Sure, she’s spent some money on herself—after her rough childhood, she figures she deserves a few indulgences, big and small.

To financial advisor Charlie Manning, his client Brittney is a shallow beauty out to spend all of her money. He thinks she should rein it in. She thinks he should loosen up, and resolves to help him do just that—in a very naughty way.

The passion between them burns hot and fast, and Charlie comes to realize Brittney’s heart is as big as her newly fattened bank account. She’s not only smart, but beautiful and sexy. And he can’t resist her.

Still, Charlie is aware that Brittney’s keeping secrets from him. If only she would trust him enough to tell the truth!

Book 1 of the Fortune series.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Fortune’s Deception:

Brittney was going to turn him away. She had to.

With a sigh, she threw her brush into the sink and pulled her hair into a high ponytail. No reason getting glammed up if she was going to spend the night alone. She’d realized the minute she walked out of his office she had to do this, sever all sexual ties with her
financial planner
. She should’ve never done it with him in the first place, and she’d made more than her share of mistakes in her life.

Then he called her at six, his voice so sexy, a little gruff as he spoke. When he asked if he could come over, she didn’t even hesitate with her answer. Just hearing him talk made her sex weep with moisture, caused her nipples to stiffen into tight little aching buds.

She’d hung up the phone and known immediately she’d made a mistake. No way could he come over to her house and essentially fuck her brains out. She didn’t want to lead him on, didn’t want him to think she could offer him something more. Relationships were not a part of her life, they never had been. She didn’t do consecutive dating, didn’t do any of that stuff. She had no idea
how
to do any of it.

Of course, what she and Charlie had certainly couldn’t be called
dating
. That description was downright laughable. No, one illicit encounter in his office did not constitute dating, but she had a feeling he was a serious kind of guy.

She didn’t care to stick around long enough to have someone hurt her, because that’s what always happened. Nothing could last forever. She’d suffered enough through her entire childhood, taking blow after emotional blow when she’d been young and had no defenses. All of it had been so painful, so heartbreaking. Never, ever again would she put herself through something like that willingly.

Could she recall one serious boyfriend throughout her entire string of so-called relationships? Not really. She was the good-time girl, the one guys liked to hang out with, the one they liked to bang, especially because she was no-strings. No fuss, no muss, just fun.

Mister Number Cruncher Charles Manning probably didn’t even know the meaning of no fuss, no muss. He was probably intent on finding a woman ready to settle down with, looking for a relationship. He reeked of commitment. His cologne was probably named Commitment.

That was
so
not her style.

The doorbell rang and she ran her hands down the front of her cotton tank dress, her palms suddenly sweaty. She hated having to turn him away, didn’t want to see the disappointment in his eyes, on his face, but it had to be done. One minor encounter with the man and already she was in over her head. She couldn’t imagine how an actual sweaty mattress session with him would make her feel.

Be strong
. She lifted her chin, straightened her posture and walked with determined steps to the door.

All thoughts of being strong and dumping his sexy ass flew right out the door with her first sight of him on her front porch. Her jaw dropped open in surprise, her mouth going dry. He looked deliciously sexy with his hands stuffed in the front pockets of worn jeans, a black T-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest. He smiled at her, dimples flashing, brown eyes filled with sexual heat behind the wire frames of his glasses. Her heart skipped a beat and her entire body roared to life, eager for his touch.

Just one more time, what can it hurt? She could take it, she thought as she grabbed his hand and yanked him inside, kicking the door shut behind him. She pushed his big body against the door, flattened herself against him and pulled his head down.

“Nice to see you, too,” he murmured just before her lips captured his.

They kissed long and slow, wonderful lazy kisses. His tongue traced the outline of her lips and she opened her mouth to him, her tongue dancing with his. His hands slid up and down her sides, dragging her dress up with every pass until they slipped underneath, cupping her panty-clad ass.

She moaned into his mouth and pressed against him, unable to help herself. He got the message, lifting her, and she wrapped her legs around him.

“You’re strong,” she said, peppering tiny kisses all over his face, darting her tongue out to lick his skin.

“You’re light.” His dark hair rubbed against her face as he moved down to kiss her neck, nibbling the sensitive flesh.

A shiver consumed her when his teeth hit an extra touchy spot. “You’re sweet but I’m not that light.”

After they’d won the lottery, she’d been on a non-stop eating binge at the finest restaurants she could find. She had to be packing at least an extra ten pounds since she’d started.

“Mmm, you smell good. Taste good.” His lips were soft as they cruised up her neck, skimmed her jaw before finally settling on her mouth. He drank from her, his mouth languid, his tongue teasing and she clutched at him, sank her hands in his hair to keep him there, right where she wanted him.

Oh, the man could kiss. She could do this all night. So slow, so soft, utterly decadent. His tongue searched her mouth, wet and warm and tasting faintly of mint. She tunneled her hands into his silky hair, the dark strands wrapping around her fingers and she undulated against him, wanting more. His erection brushed against her, huge and urgent and her nipples hardened to almost painful points.

“Take me to my bedroom,” she whispered against his mouth, licking at his lips.

He lifted his head, glanced around. “Hell, where is it? Your house is huge. How much did you pay for this monstrosity again?”

Brittney tugged on his hair, making him yelp. “You should know and besides, there will be no talk of financial matters tonight, please. You need to focus on the task at hand.”

“Which is?” He smiled, dimples flashing again and her tummy fluttered at the sight of them.

She could look at those cute, sexy dimples over and over and never tire of it.