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  “Your leg bothering you?”

  “It’s fine.” Even her skin was hurting. Only a few more minutes and she could drown in hot water and try to forget she’d have to do it all again tomorrow.

  “Why do you do this to yourself?” His voice went soft, nearly soothing.

  “Do what?”

  “You’re exhausted. You’re in pain. You work like a damned horse.” If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a hint of baffled respect in that gruff tone.

  “It’s what I do.” Sometimes she hated it. “I’ve worked for it my whole life.” After the surgery, when she was told there was a chance she wouldn’t dance again, the searing panic had been accompanied by a tiny guilty kernel of relief.

  “You ever wanted to do something else?”

  Because he already knew her dirty secret, Lynn reached into the bag of chocolates. Since he was here and she didn’t want to leave just yet she offered him a blue-wrapped piece. His fingers brushed over her palm, his touch brief and electrifying. Even through aching muscles, she felt a tiny coiling of heat.

  “I never thought about doing anything else.” She was never allowed to. The rich dark taste of chocolate flooded her taste buds. “My family sent me here to dance.”

  “Where are your parents now?”

  “Still back in Ukraine.” They used to come for every big show. Now, she was lucky if they made it here once in three years. And Aunt Maria was too busy taking care of her ailing mother. Sacrifices. Always sacrifices.

  “My mother hated it when I became a cop.” His eyes were distant in the mirror.

  “Really?” She hadn’t known he was a cop. She’d slept with him and barely knew him. “You were a policeman?”

  He nodded, but didn’t elaborate.

  “You miss it?”

  “Yeah.” He stood. “Let’s go.”

  Discipline had been ingrained in her for years. She stood despite the screaming protests of her muscles, but when he took her bag she didn’t say a thing.

  The ride home smelled like cigarettes and leather. The short walk to her door was just a blur.

  “Go relax.” Mateo walked in after her as she struggled to remember the alarm code. Not even thinking to protest that he knew the code, Lynn staggered into the bathroom to find hot water bliss.

  Warmth seeped into her muscles and had her melting in relief. She didn’t bother with salts or bath bubbles, just sank into the small claw-footed tub and let the water pour over her and soothe the pains.

  When he walked in with a glass full of something orange, she didn’t have the energy to hide her body from his gaze.

  “You’ll scald yourself.”

  “It feels good.”

  He sat on the white edge of the tub. Somehow it wasn’t strange having him here. “Drink this.”

  Moving her arm was too much effort. “What is it?”

  “Orange juice.”

  “I’ll drop it.”

  He didn’t argue. Instead he brought the glass close to her lips.

  “You shouldn’t be in here.” Since the glass was there, nearly touching her lips, she took a long cold sip.

  “Tell me to go.” Those onyx eyes challenged her to do just that while she was naked in hot water drinking orange juice.

  She didn’t have the energy to flush.

  Because it tasted good and all of a sudden she was thirsty, Lynn gulped the juice. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said again and leaned back in the hot and churning water.

  When she opened her eyes, he stood holding a huge green towel.

  “Why are you doing this?” She sounded like a cranky child. Because of it, she made the effort to stand up and let him drape the towel around her, his movements gentle as he rubbed the moisture off her skin. “Why are you taking care of me?”

  “Somebody has to.” He carried her out of the steam-filled bathroom, his arms strong and secure around her. She didn’t have to pose, to lock her feet, do anything but simply put her forehead on his shoulder and be carried. He laid her face down on the bed.

  “I’m too tired for sex games.” Except she felt a low tug of arousal lazily floating in her veins.

  Warm palms cradled her feet. “I had another game in mind.” His breath softly caressed her skin.

  He pressed a thumb into the aching arch of her left foot, gently but firmly squeezed and rubbed before giving the same treatment to her other foot. They felt tiny inside his hands, dainty and female, and when he pushed to have her flex her toes, she let herself be pampered. Just this once.

  His hands continued upward, pressing into the muscles of her calves, the inside of her knees, her thighs. She stiffened when his fingers softy traced over the scar above her knee. Then she felt his lips over it, tracing it, as if soothing it with soft, soft kisses.

  Desire coiled harder in her belly.

  She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to burst the moment. Instead she spread her thighs apart and softly said his name. “Mateo.”

  “Are you sure you want this?”

  She wasn’t sure about anything except for this. “I am.”

  In the warm silence, he traced slow open-mouthed kisses over the back of her thighs, moving higher towards her buttocks. His hands were on her calves, stroking the sensitive skin with light teasing caresses.

  A shudder rippled through her as his lips touched a tender spot just below her spine, lingered there before continuing the journey upwards, each kiss along her back a sensual delicious touch. Another shiver when he paused between her shoulder blades to lightly scrape his teeth over her skin, then kiss away the tiny sting that added a small edge of pain to the sweetness of pleasure.

  His hands tenderly palmed the soft globes of her buttocks before leaving her skin. Foil ripped. Then his weight pressed into her, covering her with warmth, the tip of him probing inside her.

  She lifted up her hips and turned her head so she could see them in the mirror, his muscles taut as he loomed over her with his arms on each side of her shoulders, a tiny cross hanging down from his neck.

  A soft and shallow penetration. A slow withdrawal so he could start again, pushing in deeper with each stroke, riding her soft and tender, filling her with his body, caressing her with his cock.

  “Is this what you want, preciosa?”

  She fisted her hands in the sheet, as that hard muscled body covered her pale skin.

  He slowed his strokes, just pulsed inside her wet slick heat. “Tell me you want this.”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t breathe. “I want this.”

  A slow glide of his cock. “Tell me to fuck you.”

  “Yes. Do it.”

  His hands massaged her buttocks, spread them apart so that he could trace a wicked line right on the crease. She shuddered at his touch, watching him in the mirror.

  “Tell me to fuck you.” Low rough words.

  She dragged in liquid air. “Fuck me.”

  When the heart sets its course, even home is no escape…

  Force of Attraction

  © 2009 Mandy M. Roth

  Project Exorcism, Book 2

  With a Commission uniform on her back and an engagement ring from the ship commander on her finger, a normal life is finally within Dr. Marisa Langston’s reach. If she can just learn to love her fiancé, everything will be perfect. Except for the perfectly arrogant Lieutenant Commander Bradi Janelle. He not only gets on her last nerve, he makes her body burn with a hunger only he can satisfy. Distraction is dangerous for a woman who has something to hide…especially when the ship is sabotaged.

  Bradi isn’t looking for a mate. Hell, he goes out of his way to avoid the prospect altogether—until the sexy little number in the infirmary makes a mockery of his ladies’ man façade. Now, trapped with her in an escape pod, she’s way too close for comfort. Too close to deny himself the heaven of her body. And her semi-conscious ramblings reveal way too much information—secrets that are dangerous for them both.

  Their out-of-control hormones are the least of their p
roblems. The pod is careening toward his home planet. Once there, Marisa won’t be the only one with nothing left to hide…

  This book has been previously published and has been revised from its original release.

  Warning: Contains steaming hot baby-making in close quarters, sexy shifters in a galaxy far, far away, and a giant eel. Don’t worry, it’s friendly. Most of the time.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Force of Attraction:

  Bradi woke slowly, his joints aching and his body on fire. It was normal with his condition for his body to react to changes in the temperature automatically. It was also common for him to run several degrees hotter than a human. That was just one of the reasons why he’d refused to allow Dr. Marisa Langston to evaluate him. Hell, he hadn’t ever allowed any Commission doctor to examine him. It’d cost him a pretty penny to pay others to forge his documents, but it was necessary all the same. Besides, he had no family so money wasn’t really a concern for him.

  Marisa was still sleeping and he didn’t want to wake her. She looked like an angel lying there with her arms pulled up close to her chest and it took everything in him not to reach out and touch her. The cut on her arm had finally stopped bleeding but the slightest bump could easily break it open. Rolling on his side, Bradi winced when pain radiated through his shoulder.

  Peeking out the POD window, his stomach dropped. There, in the distance, he saw the tell-tale aquamarine color of Margaidia, their original destination and the destination that had been programmed into all the escape PODs should there be trouble. The POD had overshot the planet and was headed on a direct path for Sargaidia, the uncharted sister planet to Margaidia, and the last place in the universe he wanted to go back to.

  Bradi checked the computer and found it frozen over. Looking around the POD, he realized that the entire thing was covered with a thin frost.

  Marisa.

  Dropping down next to her, he touched her lightly. Her body was rigid and extremely cool to the touch.

  “Doc?” he asked, shaking her gently. She didn’t respond and his gut twisted. The thought of her freezing to death before he was able to get the POD operational again was a very real possibility.

  “Come on, babe,” he said, hoping to goad her into responding. The faint blue line around her lips told him that no amount of prodding would help. Acting quickly, Bradi pulled his shirt off and reached for her. Groaning softly from the pain shooting through him, he covered Marisa’s body with his own. “This isn’t enough.”

  Bradi worked his boots and pants off before reaching for Marisa’s uniform. He’d been dying to get her out of her clothes from day one, but this wasn’t exactly what he had in mind. He worked her shirt over her head and did his best not to stare at the luscious pale globes before him. Her pink nipples looked good enough to eat and everything in him wanted to sample them. The faint light from the navigational controls reflected off her pale skin and he had to be closer to her.

  The nasty cut on her upper arm seemed to be holding, but the fear of breaking it open left him moving slower than he should to warm her body. Working her boots and pants off, Bradi lingered a little too long near the top of her panty line. Thoughts of Pete kept him from peeking further.

  Placing his body over hers, Bradi willed himself to be hotter. His body reacted to his command and he felt his core temperature rise even more. If he had to, he’d shift forms, but the last thing he wanted was for Marisa to wake and find herself under a partially changed man. Somehow, he didn’t think that would go over so well. Fully shifting wasn’t an option either. It wouldn’t make it any easier on her to find herself pinned beneath a black panther.

  Marisa moaned and he looked down to see if she was awake yet. Her eyes remained closed, but she moved her hands slightly. Bradi tensed when he felt her fingers running over his back.

  “Doc?”

  “Mmm,” she whispered, grinding her hips upwards.

  The sweet scent of her cream filled his head. His erection, which he seemed to permanently sport while around Marisa, ached to dive into her, sample her flesh and claim her for his own. The tiny silken barrier of her panties served as a reminder that he couldn’t—or rather shouldn’t—take her.

  She shifted a bit. “Mmm, I want you in me.”

  Bradi froze as she grabbed his ass. “Doc, wake up.”

  Cool lips met his and he fought to keep his body from responding. The minute her tongue pushed through and found his, he lost all control.

  If I’m going to die out here anyway, I might as well die making love to her. Marisa is the closest to heaven I’m ever going to be.

  Marisa’s hands pushed between their bodies. She wrapped her fingers around his cock and he nearly came on her bare stomach. Never before had a woman’s touch brought him so much pleasure so quickly. Reason fought its way through to him. “Doc, baby, wake up, now! You don’t want to do this. It’s not right.”

  Her lips fastened onto his as she pushed her panties to the side and rubbed the head of his cock in her wet juices. “It’s more than right. I want you. I’ve dreamed of touching you from the moment I boarded the ship.”

  Bradi wanted to take the time to love her as she should be loved before entering her, but he was no longer in control. The beast within could smell her cream, her sex, and the desire to mate with her was overpowering. Easing his cock head into her opening, he gritted his teeth at how tight she was. Inching in a bit more, she cried out and grabbed hold of his arms. The pleasure of her tight channel wrapped around the tip of his dick overshadowed the pain in his shoulder as he worked himself into her more.

  “Oh…yes,” she whispered, kissing his face feverishly.

  He savored the feel of her. “You’re so fucking tight, Doc.” He briefly wondered how she could be this difficult to enter when she and Pete had been together for so long, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, not wanting to think about his betrayal. This was his moment to be in Marissa—the woman who called to him on a primitive level.

  Marisa’s erect nipples rubbed against his chest as he pushed a bit further into her. Meeting with slight resistance, Bradi hesitated. Could it be? He stopped. She’d been with Pete for close to two years, they had to have had sex—right? There was no way she was a virgin. Not the sexually charged doctor who made him weak in the knees. No.

  Marisa dug her nails into his arms and thrust her head back. “More!”

  Any concerns he had flew away at the sound of her command. Thrusting into her, she cried out as he brought himself to the hilt. Somehow, she’d managed to accept all of him, her channel fisting his dick to the point he wanted to come, and he’d only just started.

  Even a bad witch deserves a second chance.

  Blood, Smoke and Mirrors

  © 2010 Robyn Bachar

  Wrongly accused of using her magic to harm, the closest Catherine Baker comes to helping others is serving their coffee. Life as an outcast is nothing new, thanks to her father’s reputation, but the injustice stings. Especially since the man she loved turned her in.

  Now the man has the gall to show up and suggest she become the next Titania? She’d rather wipe that charming grin off his face with a pot of hot java to the groin.

  Alexander Duquesne has never faltered in his duties as a guardian—until now. The lingering guilt over Cat’s exile and the recent death of his best friend have shaken his dedication. With the murder of the old Titania, the faerie realm teeters on the brink of chaos. His new orders: keep Cat alive at all costs.

  Hunted by a powerful stranger intent on drawing her into an evil web, Cat reluctantly accepts Lex’s protection and the resurrected desire that comes along with it. Lex faces the fight of his life to keep her safe…and win her back. If they both survive.

  Warning: This book contains one tough and snarky witch, one gorgeous guardian, explicit blood drinking, magician sex, gratuitous violence against vampires and troublemaking Shakespearean faeries.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Blood, Smoke and Mirrors: />
  For the entertainment portion of our evening Lex bravely—or perhaps foolishly—decided to teach the faeries how to play Texas hold ’em poker. The only cards I own are Tarot cards, but he’d brought a deck of playing cards with him in his gym bag, and we used pretzels and chocolates as poker chips. The man displayed the patience of a saint as he tutored my cousins in the basics of the game—I’d learned it when we’d dated, though we’d bet clothing instead of snacks.

  Tybalt was enthralled, but Portia was slow to warm to the idea until she figured out how to cheat by magically marking the cards. Poker ended soon after that, and we turned to the Game Show Network for entertainment. Few things are quite as entertaining as watching millennia-old frost faeries shout “No deal, Howie!” at your television screen.

  It was a welcome break, and I could almost imagine this was a normal night of fun with my cousins. The addition of Lex didn’t hurt, but it added to the strangeness. He was acting like the Lex I remembered—funny, caring, charming. I wanted to stay angry with him, but having him stand steadfast by my side today made that difficult. He was there when I needed him, which felt weird after what had occurred between us in the past.

  A little after midnight I kicked the faeries out and sent them home so Lex and I could get a good night’s sleep before our big day tomorrow. Not that I predicted being able to sleep with the cold dread that’d settled into my stomach, but I was willing to give it a try. I gathered up the empty drinking glasses and the bag of chips we’d devoured, and brought them into the kitchen. When I returned to the living room for the second round of mess, I found the lights had been switched off. Barely visible, Lex stood at the window, staring into the night as he held the curtains aside.

  “You need to see this.”

  “What is it?”

  “Might want to put your shields up in case they try to take a shot at you,” he advised as I crossed the room. With a deep breath I put my shields in place, feeling the energy snap around me and then continue its new odd habit of stretching to include Lex.