Getting to know my characters has been an interesting journey. They’ve come a long way since the original story. You’ve met Trisha, so now here’s a glimpse into Zach from Lust and Bound.
I paused on the sidewalk. A sleek black Audi limo had just dropped me off and after Jonas made sure I made it onto the sidewalk safely, per instructions, he drove away. Yeah. The lights were bright, but at the moment it was of little help. My eyes hadn’t adjusted from being in the back of the darkened limo. So I pulled my cane from my black and white Miche bag. With a flick of my wrist, the white and red pole snapped and clicked into place.
I navigated through a Chicago hotel with hundreds of people, with rolling bags and easel lined hallways, surely I could make it ten feet to the front door without tripping over anything. I hoped there weren’t any stairs.
Of all the times of day for us to meet, Zach had to pick the night, but I guess if I wanna have a drink with a hunky hottie in a bar, who owned his own limo company, well it better be worth it.
The subtle scent of wood and masculinity beckoned, the moment before a hand touched my shoulder.
“You were supposed to wait on the sidewalk for me, not go off and do your own thing.”
“I have my cane.”
“Do all writers find it difficult to listen to the characters they create or is it just you?”
He chuckled. “Figured as much. Now if you don’t mind we’ll go inside the correct door.” Deftly he pries the cane from my hand, folded it, places it back in its case, then settles my hand on his arm.
Solid muscle meets my fingers. I couldn’t resist. I had to squeeze his bicep.
“Anytime I get to rub a man’s muscles, I’m good.”
He grins. “Trish said you were a bit of a flirt.”
“If you’d met me while the sun was shining, we wouldn’t have this problem.”
“And again, that’s doing your own thing.”
I allowed him to lead me into the bar. I got the impression of tables and chairs, but it was dim. One thing drew my attention and that was the stage. It was bright and a woman with long curly auburn hair, who seemed suspiciously familiar, twirled around a silver pole.
“Didn’t you have some questions for me?” Zach practically purred in a voice that should be reserved for candlelit bedrooms and steamy sex fantasies.
Somehow I managed to tear my gaze from the stage and focused on him. “Uh, yeah.”
“So let’s get started.”
I shifted my purse to the table, withdrew the small tape recorder and a camera.
“No pictures.” His tone was firm, almost harsh.
“Right. Almost forgot about that.” I tuck the camera away and squint at the stage. “So that is Trisha.”
“Yes, which is why you’re here at night.”
Glasses thudded on the table.
“Yours is just to the right of your left hand.”
I pick up the old-fashioned glass and stare at the milky white contents. “What is this?”
“An oatmeal cookie.”
“Uh huh? And what are you drinking?”
“Mackinac Island Fudge beer. It’s bottled by a local brewery.”
Zach glances at his watch. “She’s got another five minutes before she done so, what other questions do you have?”
“I know I’m going to get this question from some readers, but would you consider yourself a dom?”
“No. I just like to keep things interesting in the bedroom. What about you?”
Chokes on the oatmeal cookie. I grab napkins. “I’m not the one being interview,” I say between coughing spams.
He laughs. “You should try it some time.”
“Looks like she’s done. Nice talking to you.” He leaned close. “And next time try not to do your own thing.”
I could only sigh as he walked toward Trisha.
Please enjoy the excerpt and the oatmeal cookie.
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1/5 shot Bacardi® 151 rum
1/5 shot Kahlua® coffee liqueur
1/5 shot Bailey’s® Irish cream
Combine ingredients in equal parts in a shot glass.
Trisha, a recent divorcee, wants to explore the wilder side of sex and discover a more sensuous part of herself. When long-time client Zach Walters suggests a weekend together, she agrees. He provides her with an unforgettable night of hot, sweaty sex, while unbeknownst to either of them the tryst is being recorded.
No woman has ever excited Zach Walters like Trisha. He’s willing to indulge his fantasies as well as hers, but he can’t afford to get too close. He has a weakness for damsels in distress and a secret to protect. Only one thing threatens their happiness—a vengeful ex-husband.
Zach fumbled the plastic card in the metal slot. When the mechanism whirred and clicked, he twisted the knob, but paused. “I have one rule.” His gaze never left her face.
Trisha met his hungry stare, her lips parting. “What’s that?”
“I don’t share.”
A thrill rippled through her body at the possessive note in his deep, rasping voice.
“You can still walk away.”
Walk away? Was he nuts? She’d waited months for this moment, for freedom. Still, as his eyes raked over her body, waiting for her decision, a tiny seed of doubt wiggled in the back of her mind. She squared her shoulders. Nope. She wasn’t going home until she knew what made her eyes roll to the back of her head and she wanted him to show her.
He shouldered open the door and dragged her to him. The cool kiss of the textured wall greeted her bare shoulders as his mouth, hot and demanding, found hers. She sighed against his lips, jerking his shirt free from his waistband. He cupped her breast, his thumb stroking her nipple. Fire danced through her veins, pooled low. Her heart skipped a beat when he yanked the chiffon from her shoulders, ripping the sheer fabric.
Lifting his head, he flashed a quick smile, his mist-gray eyes shining with heat and mischief. “I hope you weren’t too attached to this dress.”
She didn’t care how he got her clothes off, just as long as he got them off. Her pulse raced and her breath quickened when the thin silk of her slip followed the fate of her dress. Trisha slid her hands beneath his shirt, his skin warm and smooth beneath her palms.
“Now what am I supposed to wear home?”
Zach grabbed her wrists, shackling them in one large hand and raising her arms above her head. She gasped as her breasts thrust upwards, straining for attention. “We’ll worry about that later.” He dipped his head, capturing one taut peak in his mouth.
She arched against him as desire further hardened her nipples and set her blood to simmering. His fingers brushed the curve of her hip, before drifting lower, tracing the sensitive skin below her garter belt.
“You’re a bit naughty, Trish,” he whispered against her mouth.
Her answering chuckle melted into a moan when his fingers stroked her damp pussy. His eyes widened when his hand met no barrier.
“Very naughty indeed,” he murmured. He leaned away, cool air skittering across her heated flesh. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
“Too long,” she agreed.
Pivoting, he grabbed her hand and led her into the bedroom. The king-size bed dominated the room and sat in front of the mirrored doors to the closet. Artificial candlelight flickered around the room, casting muted shadows against the wallpaper while the soft scent of jasmine wafted through the air.
Warm fuzzies squeezed her heart. Despite being a day early he had surprised her. She stepped forward, her nylon-clad feet skimming against something cool and satiny. Rose petals trailed from the door to the bed. She perched on the edge of the bed, too overwhelmed to speak.
When she focused on him, he watched her with a hooded expression.
“It seems like you’ve thought about this, haven’t you?”
He tucked a curl behind her ear. “I get one chance to make a lasting impression.”
His eyes widened when she shoved him back on the bed and straddled his legs. The bulge grew and hardened beneath her thigh. She worked at loosening his tie. Once unknotted, she tossed it aside and focused on the buttons. With each button released from its mooring she revealed more of his amazing body. She pushed the shirt aside to trace the large, colorful dragon/koi tattoo that began on his left pec and wrapped around his bicep to disappear onto his back. Anticipation coiled in her belly. Oh how she wanted to find out how far his tattoo went.
“You’ve tortured me enough tonight and I think it’s time you paid up,” she murmured against his lips. She skimmed light, teasing kisses from his mouth to his jaw.
A startled gasp escaped her lips when he shifted and blanketed her body with his. He captured her wrists in one large hand and held them above her head.
“One day, very soon, I’m going have you tied and helpless beneath me.”
She sucked in a breath, holding his gaze, unwilling to admit how much she wanted the same thing.
He traced the swell of her breasts just above the neckline of her corset. “But there is one image of you I can’t seem to get out of my head.” He touched his lips to hers in a long, drugging kiss that left her craving more. “Are you game?”
“I’m yours for the weekend.”
He chuckled, a smoldering look scorching her body. She responded to that look. “Oh, I like how that sounds.”
Heat crept into her cheeks as she realized what she’d said. “I—uh, yeah.”
He nipped at her neck, even as he settled deeper into the vee of her thighs. The heavy bulge of his erection rubbed against her core. Instinctively she raised her hips in greeting.
“I want to watch you, beautiful,” he murmured against her lips.
She stiffened. “Watch me what?”
He rolled off her and helped her to sitting. “I want to watch you climax, before I send you over the edge again.”
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