Here it is! Lucifers’ Choice from Jianne Carlo, the much-anticipated sequel to her popular Paratrooper in a Pear Tree. This a multi-cultural suspense that tells about Nalini, who is trying to escape marriage to one of India’s most eligible bachelors, and the one sure way to do it? Lose her virginity! She sets her sights on Lucifer, aka Sax Anders, a yummy viking and head of the Hades Squad. How can she get him into bed before he recognizes her? Below is an excerpt. ENJOY (but only if you’re over 18). : )
Sax Anders couldn’t remember the last time he’d fucked a woman without knowing at least her first name.
A first time for everything, I guess.
Slipping another button of her blouse free, he bent to brush his mouth over hers. She smelled of Shalimar, and her lips tasted of the tequila shot she’d had earlier — tangy, spicy, with a hint of lime, and grains of salt dusted his tongue. Pushing the silk shirt open, he trailed his forefinger along her satin-soft skin up her rib cage over the lace froth of her red bra and cupped the thin material covering her breast while licking the seam of her mouth.
She stiffened, but parted her lips and let him in. His boner jerked, the jeans tightened pressuring his aching testicles, and the taste of her had him fast-forwarding to fucking, pronto. He broke off the kiss hoping to regain control of his raging lust.
“Sax?” Cheeks flushed the hue of a ripe peach, lips glistening wet, sienna locks cascading and waving around her face, she lifted her hands and laid them flat on his shirt. “Something wrong?”
“Will you be upset if we moved this to the bed?” Sax asked.
“Not at all,” she replied, tipping her head back to meet his gaze directly. Brows arched, mouth curving in a little Madonna-mysterious smile, she stared at him through half-lidded eyes. “Isn’t that where we’re going to end up?”
When she smiled, the enticing heart-shaped mole at the right corner of her mouth danced an invitation he couldn’t refuse. He sipped the spot, his tongue laving the darker pigmentation tracing the outline of the tiny heart. That mole had drained all the blood in his veins to his cock when he’d first glimpsed her earlier, head thrown back, lips parted in a wicked grin, one shoulder lifted in the sauciest sex-kitten pose he’d ever witnessed.
“Without a doubt,” he said, kneading her breast and shifting sideways to scoop an arm around her back. “Put your arms around my neck.”
“Why?” A series of tiny creases knitted her forehead.
He hefted her onto his lap. “Because it’ll make you, me, and bed happen faster.”
“Oh,” she whispered and ran her tongue over the edge of her teeth. “Okay.” Linking her hands at the back of his neck, she said, “I never thought you’d be cavemannish in bed.”
“And how long have you been wondering what I’d be like in bed?” he asked, stood, and stalked over to the canopy bed that dominated the Santa Fe Hilton’s suite.
“Need your ego stroked?” she purred. “I wouldn’t think a man who looks like you has any problem in the bed department.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, knowing his Norwegian coloring, platinum hair, blue eyes, six-six height, and wrestler build stood out anywhere, but more so in the predominantly Hispanic and Native American population of Santa Fe. “I was wondering if we wasted the last two hours at El Meson.”
“Anticipation heightens the senses.”
“Tell me about it,” he quipped. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I anticipated us doing this.”
Settling her in the middle of the bed, he stared at his bounty. A beauty with a trace of an exotic heritage, from the rich chocolate of her eyes, the classic but long line of her nose, the high cheekbones, and the dusky color of her complexion, all spoke of the glamour and style of a Bollywood actress. And that mole. His prick twitched when she shot him an under-the-eyelids side-glance and pouted. The mole danced and played hide-and-seek under the muted lighting in the room as her lips quirked up.
Sax had spent enough time in India to recognize her ancestral roots. He traced the line of her neck as she arched her head back, his attention captured by the fullness of her breasts. Every man in the bar had been fixated on the cleavage revealed by her ruby shirt, the hint of her wickedly red bra when she leaned over to pick up her shot glass.
He footed one shoe off, then the other, and when she fiddled with a button, he ordered, “Don’t.”
“What?” The question was snapped, and irritation showed in the frown that riddled her forehead.
“I want to unwrap you,” he said, climbed onto the bed, lifted one leg to straddle her with his knees, and batted her hands away from her middle. “Your skin’s so soft.” Splaying his fingers, he savored the heat of her flesh, the smoothness of her the skin as he teased the buttons of her blouse free to reveal the most delicious navel ring. He choked as a lance of lightning lust shot straight to his straining prick and testicles.
“This might go down quicker than I anticipated,” he muttered, fumbling with the rest of her top’s fastenings. She wore the sexiest harlot half-cup bra he’d ever had the privilege of viewing, and the sight of her mounded breasts had his mouth salivating. He flexed his jaw, his fingers tingled, and he almost tore off the brass button on her pants in his haste to get her naked.
I only have one fucking condom.
She rose onto her elbows and shrugged, working one sleeve of the blouse down her arm. Sax shifted to her right, unzipped her black corduroy jeans, tugged the waistband down over her supple hips, and just about swallowed his tongue when a matching scarlet lace thong materialized.
“Mouthwatering,” he muttered, catching a whiff of the musk of her desire as he peeled the fabric from her skin. Thank you, God. She’s as ready as I am.
She wriggled and lifted to help him, and as her belly rose, the tiny imp on the pink, silver, and diamanté navel ring winked in the muted light from one bedside lamp. Unable to resist, he bent and outlined the heart-shaped devil with his tongue, and his carefully planned seduction shattered into a zillion shards.
“I take it you like my little Lucifer,” she said, her voice husky, her eyes darkened to a velvety fudge brown.
“How appropriate,” he said, jerked back to reality by her using the word Lucifer, the nickname given to him by his Hades teammates. “I take it you have a little bit of a devil in you?”
“I plan to,” she stated, “if you play your cards right.”
Okay. Excited? Here’s where you can find Jianne’s delicious suspense.
What is your favorite kind of romantic stories? Suspense? Contemporary? GLBT? Menage? Share.
: )