Let’s be honest, friends. We read erotic romance for one major reason–we’re ready for some sexy, lovable hero to sweep us off our feet in our imaginary lives and steam off our panties.
Sure, we love the heroines like sisters. We adore the characters’ pets, crazy aunts, and dark journeys to the sunlight. But we tune in for the hero.
I write hardworking heroes–in bed and out. When I build a hero in my mind, I go with what I know. As a country girl, I don’t know jack shit about a boardroom or penthouse office. I know guys with rough hands and rougher ways–the ones that give you the nod that makes your thighs clench as they say, “Hey.”
Writing a hero that will scorch your panties to ash is like creating a recipe from scratch.
Cup of Brass Balls
Portion of Determination
Measure of Cuddly Teddy Bear
Heaping Scoop of Sex Appeal
2 Helpings of Libido
Teaspoon of Mystery
Dash of Uncertainty
I find this to be a solid recipe for my cowboys, firefighters, loggers, pirates, supernatural warriors, and country boys. Read on for an excerpt from UNBROKEN, my brand new book in the Country Fever series from Samhain. See if you can pick out any of the ingredients I mentioned above.
The bell on the door tinkled. At the sound, she hopped off the counter and glanced up.
She stopped breathing.
And right behind him, Christian.
Claire backed up until the counter dug painfully into her spine. Please don’t make me wait on you.
The last thing she was capable of was acting nonchalant while serving eggs and home fries to the man she was in love with—especially when she wanted to roll out of his bed and pad off to his kitchen to prepare them herself.
But the look on Tucker’s handsome face told her that he was here for more than eggs. She’d seen that blazing look before, right before he trapped her hands behind her back and bent her over a hay bale.
Dark heat slithered downward to capture her folds. Her nipples bunched up hard.
“We’ve got some unfinished business, Claire.” When Tucker used this commanding tone, she’d follow him around like a pony, doing tricks until he rewarded her with the sweet sugar of his kisses.
He and Christian strode across the dining room, muscles rolling with purpose. She dragged in a harsh breath. “I don’t think—”
“I do.” Tucker planted his hands on her waist and leaned over her, dizzying her with his personal spice before he slammed his mouth over hers. She gasped around his lips, and he slid in his tongue. Plundering. Stealing any protestation.
Her body reacted with a violent shiver. Cream soaked her panties as she took note of his hardness—every inch of it.
Christian made a noise that brought Tucker’s head up. He stared into her eyes for a split second before plucking her off her feet and bearing her to the back of the diner, past the mish-mash of photographs plastering the walls of several generations of patrons. Smiling faces. Voyeuristic faces.
Tucker pressed her into the last booth and crowded in beside her. Christian hung back a little, leaning against a table a few feet off. She sent Christian a frantic look, but he gave her a slow, amused smile that twisted the knot tighter in her core.
He nuzzled her temple, spattered kisses down to her jaw then circled around to her earlobe, which he bit sharply.
She squirmed, watching Christian’s smile widen.
“What’s going on?” While she longed for more of Tucker’s kisses—the hottest brand she’d ever known—she couldn’t let him drag her heart behind his horse anymore.
“I never laid a hand on Allie,” Tucker whispered into her ear. Hot words that did hotter things to her body and incinerated her heart.
Tucker’s blue eyes loomed close as he stared into hers. “That was Christian. Sometimes we…watch each other. Christian thinks you’re as gorgeous as I do. In fact, you’ve been the object of one of our joint fantasies.”
She twitched as he slipped a finger down her spine. Her breath came faster. Joint fantasy? Her mind reeled around the words, and she opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Tucker’s slow grin heated her core. But his statement melted her into a puddle of want. “Right now, Christian wants me to finger your pussy so he can see. You all right with that, baby?”
Her leg muscles burned to snap shut even as she hungered to let them part.
“Beautiful Claire, I’m sorry.” He nipped her throat in that sweet spot that made all the hair on her body stand up. “Let me make it up to you. And let Christian be witness to it.”
Briefly, a thread of a question wove through her mind. Make it up to me by getting me off in front of another man? But then Tucker plunged his tongue into her mouth, and she lost control completely.
A long minute passed as she let Tucker’s flavors fill her head even as Christian looked on. His strong presence and hooded gaze excited the hell out of her.
“With Christian?” Tucker asked.
“Yes,” she gasped between kisses.
Her breath hitched as he inched rough fingers up her inner thighs to her soaking heat. Christian crossed his arms and leaned back a bit, his gaze directed under the table. Tucker positioned her, draping a calf over his big thigh and pushing aside the small patch of fabric covering her pussy.
Being back in his arms again, with his mouth on hers, drove away thoughts of her surroundings and the previous state of her heart. She gave in to the swirling caress of his fingertip on her clit.
Christian’s moan reverberated in the quiet of the diner. Tucker echoed it, easing his finger over her slit and into her dripping channel. Shards of electric desire burst inside her.
She bucked her hips, trying to draw his thick digit into her pussy.
Tucker nibbled her parted lips, her tongue. His soft hair swept over her cheek, reminding her more of making love to him. Sweet tears burned in her throat.
“That’s it, baby. Open to me. Let me make you cling to the ceiling while Christian watches you come apart.”
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~hardworking heroes–in bed and out~