Sunday, 31 December 2017

Ring in the New Year & Fill your Brand New #Kindles up with Some #FREE & #99cent #Steamy #Romances!


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Featuring Whitley Cox, Jeanne St. James and Erica Lynn

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Friday, 29 December 2017

#NewRelease #WhitleyCox True, Deep and Forever #Eroticromance #lovestory #Chapter1

True, Deep and Forever: Part 1
Book 5 of The Dark and Damaged Hearts

One marriage ... a second chance at love

Eight years ago their love was instantaneous, all-consuming and intense. Garret Banks had to have Amy Shaw the moment he met her, and no one thought the flame would ever go out.

Now, they have everything they’ve ever wanted: great careers, a beautiful baby, and a rock-solid marriage. Or do they? Garret’s high-stress architectural job is taking its toll. Amy's predicaments would be hilarious if they didn't make her want to cry. And to make matters worse, her ex is back in the picture, demanding answers about the wild passion she left behind — answers she isn’t willing to give. 

Garret and Amy grab quick, dirty sex while they can, but in between mommy wars, annoying in-laws, sleep deprivation and fears of betrayal, their marriage is put to the test time and time again. Once they were sure love conquers all, but how far can one marriage bend before it snaps?

Chapter 1

Dream or reality? Sometimes when you’re that deep in sleep, you can’t always tell. Though my delightful reverie involving Ryan Reynolds and myself sharing a bar of chocolate in the backseat of a taxi whilst driving though the mountains sure as heck seemed real. Until the shrill sound of a wailing baby infiltrated the wonderful moment and caused Ryan to disappear, taking my chocolate with him.
The clock said four forty-five in the morning. Jesus, child, would it kill you to sleep in now and then? God, I missed the newborn days when they slept for like twenty hours a day. I sat up and looked at the mound of man sleeping next to me. His bald head with its five o’clock shadow peeked out from beneath the duvet; a light rumbling snore vibrated in his throat. His mouth was half-cocked open, with the bum-chin trembling ever so slightly on each inhale.
Must be nice to be such a sound sleeper. The whole damn Vienna Boys Choir could be playing with cymbals in here, and Garret would sleep through the entire thing.
“Don’t worry,” I said, louder than necessary. “I’ll get up. It’s not like I have to be at work this morning.”
“Hmmmm,” he moaned, rolling over and offering me a view of his nice muscular back, causing a pang of guilt to soar through me at my initial thought. He’d worked really late last night so that he could take Friday off, crawling into bed ever so quietly after the rest of the house had gone to sleep. All so that we could go over to Victoria this weekend for my brother’s wedding. I shouldn’t really begrudge him a few hours of sleep.
And yet I did.
“Mumma, mumma, mumma, mumma … ” And then, “Wahhhhhhhhh.”
“I’m coming,” I whispered, throwing back the covers, then snatching the robe that was lying haphazardly across the foot of the bed. “I’m coming, baby.” I opened the door to Henry’s room, and red-rimmed, green eyes stared up at me as he stood in his crib gripping the bars like a convict. His mop of curly brown hair stuck up in every direction.
“Mumma, mumma,” he said, trying to climb the bars but failing. His blue and yellow rhinoceros sleep sack impeded his efforts.
“All right, all right, angel-pie. Are you hungry?” I cooed, scooping him up and carrying him to the glider in the corner of the room. I popped out a boob with my free hand while he perched on my left hip.
“Mummmmma!” he cried, pulling at my tank top, frantically trying to get at the goods.
“Hold your horses, you little junkie. I’m going as fast I can. You’re not going to starve.”
As I cradled him in my lap, his mouth deftly found my nipple, and he began frantically sucking, while his hands came up and he held on to my breast as if it were a bottle, eyes fluttering shut with a contented sigh.
The first thing people usually said when they saw Henry was what beautiful eyes he had and how striking the contrast was with his darker skin and afro-esque hair. A “real chick-magnet” or “heartbreaker,” and I was sure they’d be right. My son was absolutely gorgeous. What with his father’s darker-colored skin and leafy green eyes, he was a looker, all right.
But all I saw was my sweet baby, cherubic and pudgy and perfect in every way, and I wanted him to stay that way for as long as he possibly could. I allowed my eyes to close as he continued to nurse, the whole experience calming and enjoyable.
 “You want me to take over?” came a groggy voice from the door. Garret stood tall in the doorway, clad only in his plaid Fruit of the Loom boxers, knuckling the sleep out of his eyes just like his son did when he was tired. He was a handsome specimen of a man, my husband, with cyclist’s legs, toned arms and bright green eyes that seemed to shine in the glow from Henry’s ocean-themed night light, to match his ocean-themed room. His stomach was not as taut and chiseled as it’d once been—he’d put on what he liked to refer to as “sympathy weight” while I was pregnant, indulging in my ice cream sandwich cravings right along with me. But even with a bit of a dad belly, he was still damn fine.
“You lactate now, do you?” I asked, a small smile curving up at the corner of my mouth. Henry’s eyelashes trembled against his pink cheek at the sound of his father’s voice, but they didn’t open. He was off in a milky dream.
Garret rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean. I can put him back down when you’re done if you’d like to go grab some more sleep. Or I can take him downstairs if he’s up.”
“I think he’ll probably go back down for another hour or so,” I said. “But thank you. You go back to bed. You look like hell.”
“Thanks.” He yawned, stretching up and grabbing hold of the doorjamb before turning around and heading back to bed.
A few minutes later Henry popped himself off and snuggled into my chest, his little mouth making the perfect O shape while a tiny stream of milk ran down from the corner of his lips. After laying him down in his crib and making sure he wasn’t going to just pop right back up, I headed back to my own room, determined to catch even thirty more minutes of shuteye before I was forced to start the day.
Pulling the covers up to my chin, I closed my eyes. I was just drifting off when a warm arm snaked around my torso and pulled me across the bed until my body lay shrouded by a dominating frame. I wrapped my arm over his and melted into him, welcoming the warmth and comfort of his big body. And once again sleep was just about to claim me, beckoning me into its delicious embrace, when I felt the all too familiar poke of arousal on my butt and a curious hand wandered over my body and beneath my pajamas.
I moaned. “Really?”
“It’s been ages. Come on.” He growled, leaning over and biting my earlobe, a gesture that generally revved my engines but was doing nothing for me at the moment.
“Fine,” I mumbled. “Just try not to wake me in the process.”
“That’s no fun,” he purred, shimmying out of his boxers and diving beneath the covers, flipping me onto my back. “Come on, Ames, out of those jammies, I want to see if I can beat my record.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine.”
I had to admit it, my husband was an incredibly skilled lover, and his tongue work was unsurpassed. Before Henry joined the team, Garret was able to get me screaming his name and bucking wildly into his face in under a minute, all with the flick and roll of his tongue and some well-placed fingers.
But ever since Henry, things had been different. Sex wasn’t easy, and it wasn’t as enjoyable, at least not for me. The birth hadn’t been easy, and now … things were not so easy.
 So, even though I was all healed up now, and the doc had given the go-ahead many months ago that it was okay to get jiggy with my hubby, I certainly wasn’t enjoying things the way I used to. No one told me that after you have a baby, you have to re-learn how to have sex. That you’re essentially a teenager in high school again, figuring out how to orgasm and fumbling around with your lover quietly in the dark, choosing ten minutes of “pleasure” over ten minutes of sleep.
 Only this time you’re trying not to wake the baby instead of your parents or the neighbors in the unit next door. You and your man pant and kiss and bump uglies under the covers, because God forbid he actually sees your body, all jiggly and lumpy in its depressive postpartum state. Meanwhile, milk squirts him in the eye as he kneads your engorged breasts.
Oh yeah, so hot!
And don’t even get me started on lubrication! Normally Garret would just have to look at me the right way and I’d be a slick mess in my pants. Now I was as dry as a fucking desert. Just call me Sahara or Gobi or … those were the only deserts I could think of right now, but you know what I mean.
What used to be fun foreplay was now like heading into the salt mines. If he wanted to get me off, it was hard work and hours of repetition.
But I let him try, and try he did. His diligent tongue worked my clit until it was achy and needy. Tiny circles and long lavish licks up my cleft left me a squirming, panting mess. I was seconds from reaching my destination when a screech over the baby monitor jolted me to attention and out of my loopy, lusty dreamland.
“Waahhhhhh, mum, mum, mum, mum … ” I could practically hear the tears streaming down his little cheeks. I was pretty sure he was teething again. I tossed back the covers and motioned to get out of the bed, only instead Garret pulled my legs down and covered my body, impaling me in one solid thrust.
“What the fuck, Garret?” I yelled, swatting him on the back. “Get off of me. I need to go.”
“He’s fine, come on. You were so close. We can get you there again,” he said with a masculine growl, bending his head low and nipping my ear.
“I’m not going to get off,” I said matter-of-factly, lying there like a limp noodle as my husband pounded into me, the muscles on his arms bunching from having to carry all his weight. “And you need to put a condom on. I don’t want to get pregnant.”
“Come on,” he said again with a grunt, picking up the pace and continuing to hammer into me. He wedged his hand between us and began rubbing circles around my clit. I wasn’t going to lie, it felt good, and for a moment I was tempted to shut my ears off, wrap my legs around his waist and meet him thrust for thrust. But I couldn’t. The screaming was too loud, and the way my body reacted to my crying child killed any other feelings inside me. Even desire for my husband.
“We can’t,” I said with remorse. “Condom or pull out.”
“It’s not going to happen. I’ll be quick.”
“Henry happened on the first try. We’re fertile. Either pull out and finish yourself off or put a condom on and get the job done.” I knew my husband needed the release, and even though I wasn’t going to find mine, I was willing to let him find his. “Just make it snappy,” I sighed, the shrieking on the baby monitor picking up vigor.
He let out his own big sigh. “Never mind, just go deal with our child.” And with that, he pulled out and headed to the bathroom, muttering, “Kids are fucking cock-blockers.”
I loved my kitchen. I loved my entire house. Seeing as we’d built it from the ground up, I’d been awarded the privilege of picking out everything from cupboards to floorboards. The morning sun burst in through the window behind the sink and caught the green jewel-toned backsplash, making it glow. I loved jewel tones and had decorated our home (tastefully of course) with the rich hues of green, amber and burgundy with the odd splash of brown and plum. I wiped crumbs off the gold-veined white granite counter before turning to face my husband. He was still in his flannel robe nibbling on an English muffin with raspberry jam and mindlessly reading the newspaper. His carbon-copy was perched in his highchair with said jam smeared across his cheek and a mushed and mangled English muffin with bite marks squished tightly in his little fist. The other fist pounded on the tray like a slave ship drum.
“Could you get him to stop that, please?” I asked, perhaps a bit too snippy as I packed all of our lunches.
Garret grabbed his son’s fist and gave him a stern look while gently saying “no.” Henry seemed oblivious to the discipline but found interest in his sippy cup and started gnawing on the nipple of it.
“We should see if your parents will take Henry one night for a sleepover so that we can have some grown-up time. What do you think?” Garret asked later, switching gears, seeming to have ignored my bitchy snap.
I had planned to take a full year’s maternity leave and was thoroughly enjoying my time with my son, but the gallery I worked for had lost two employees in the span of a week, and another one had taken medical leave. I’d been asked to return to work three days a week with a serious increase in my pay, enough so that it was worth giving up the employment insurance I was getting paid each month. So I returned to work part-time when Henry was eight months old. Yet, despite the fact that I’d been back at work for nearly two months, it was still a huge change for our little family, especially for me as I attempted to balance work, a social life, motherhood, and being a wife.
Everyone demanded something of me. Always.
Some days it felt as though I couldn’t catch a break and was failing in at least one facet of life, whether it be friend, mother, wife or employee. Other days it seemed as if I was failing at all of them and disappointing the world. It helped in the transition back to work, though, that Garret’s parents had offered to take Henry. So while I was at work, I had the peace of mind knowing my child was being well taken care of by people who loved him nearly as much as we did.
Three days a week, I packed snacks and a couple of bottles of pumped breast milk for Henry and dropped him off with his grandparents on my way to work. Then his father picked him up on his way home around five-thirty. Our system had been working like a well-oiled machine for several weeks, but lately Garret had been texting me midday, asking me to pick Henry up because of an unexpected work “thing,” and he was arriving home after his son had gone to bed. Last night had been one of those nights.
 “So what do you think?” Garret asked again. I’d drifted off into my thoughts and hadn’t bothered to answer him. Shit. He really was the most patient human being on the planet.
“About what?” I wrapped up his sandwich and put it in his lunch bag, along with a bag of chopped veggies and an apple. The same things made their way into my lunch bag as well.
“Getting your parents to watch the little man for a night.”
“Uh, yeah … maybe. It’s going to be pretty hectic, what with the wedding and all. Might not be doable.” My brother was getting married on Saturday, so there would be absolutely NO opportunity for us to get out for drinks with him and Emma. And my mother was spazzing out, much as she had over our wedding, and would be in no frame of mind to babysit. But I’d already denied my husband an orgasm this morning and snapped at him at least once, so instead I just nodded and hummed another “maybe.”
Garret came up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist while bending his knees, our height difference making it a tad awkward. We began to sway.
“I miss the crazy sex we used to have. I miss having sex, period. God, when was the last time we did it?”
I honestly couldn’t remember.
“I miss the naughty pictures you used to text me in the middle of the day. Send me a picture of your boobs this afternoon, would ya?”
I smirked. “We’ll see. I’m really busy this afternoon. We have a new artist coming in. He wants to do a show, so I’ve got a lot to do.”
He spun me around so that we were facing each other. “Okay. Remember, you show me yours and I’ll show you mine.” His eyebrows playfully bobbed up and down like two dark caterpillars on his forehead before he swooped in and pecked me hard on the lips. “All right, you’ve got the little man? I’m going to go shower.”
I nodded before turning my back to him and then rolling my eyes as I finished packing our lunch. I had no problem seeing his, but like hell was I going to take a selfie of mine and have that floating around the internet. No freaking way.

LAST DAY to Enter here to win a copy of Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 1

Thursday, 28 December 2017

2 Books for 99cents! My Christmas gift to you! #merrychristmas #thejoyofreading

2 Books for 99cents! My Christmas gift to you! 
Grab them NOW!


He was her new beginning; she was his undoing…
When personal trainer Kendra Black saw millionaire Justin Williams walk through her door all she saw was money and a practiced swagger. A man who’s used to getting what he wants, especially when it comes to women. But Kendra is startled to realize that there is more to Justin than meets the eye, he’s kind and funny and brilliant, and she wants him, desperately. Unable to resist Kendra or her fiery spirit and zest for life, right from the start, Justin pursues her, only her troubled childhood holds her back. She’s been running from love for so long, she doesn’t know how to stop and let it catch up.
Elated when Kendra finally gives into their attraction, Justin jumps in with both feet, only his hectic and demanding life continues to interfere, and Kendra’s past comes creeping back, and the two are tested. When the couple embarks on a daring, passionate and physical adventure, Justin discovers Kendra’s secrets and fears while exploring and uncovering his own wild and dark desires.
**WARNING** Although not a menage, this book does contain scenes of explicit f/f/m sex.
“Come on Kendra, you felt it last night, and you feel it now, there is something between us. Let’s explore.”
“No, we can’t. I can’t. I’m sorry if I led you on last night. But it was a mistake. I know you think there is something going on between us but I can assure you, there isn’t. You have to go.”
“There is definitely something going on. We both feel it. My instincts have never let me down before, and since the first moment I saw you, glaring at me as you stood behind the counter at the center, I’ve known we’re meant to be together.” He stepped forward and motioned to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear but I moved back and batted his hand out of the way.
“You need to leave.”
“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me why.”
“Fine.” I lifted my shoulder, feigning disinterest. “You weren’t very good in bed.”
He let out a huff of a laugh and took another bite of his cupcake. “That’s bull shit and you know it. You’re not a very good liar you know? Try again.”
“I’m not supposed to date clients.”
“Something tells me you’ve never let that stop you before. And I called Lacy, the receptionist, and asked if that was a policy. She said it wasn’t. Keep trying.” He cocked his hip against the counter, a smug smirk playing on his lips.
I took a deep breath. “Why do you need a reason? I’m just not interested. I like you well enough but I’m just not that interested.” That’s right Kendra, if you say it often enough you might just convince yourself, as well as him“I’m sorry. Can we please just leave it at that? I’ll transfer you to another trainer so things aren’t awkward.”
“I don’t want someone else. And I don’t believe you, I saw your face when Alexa kissed me last night, you were jealous. But…” He cocked his head in thought. “I’ll leave you alone if you agree not to drop me as a client.”
“You’re not worried it will be too awkward?”
“I’ll try if you will.”
I let out a loud sigh and crossed my arms. “Okay. Fine. But I reserve the right to pass you off to someone else if it’s not working.”
“This is happening whether you like it or not. You want me just as much as I want you. And I’ll wait as long as I have to. I’m incredibly patient. And I believe we’re meant to be.”
“You’re wrong,” I whispered, looking down at my bare feet, desperate not to let him see how he really made me feel.


The moment Kendra Black gave into temptation and took Justin Williams to bed she knew there was no turning back. There was something in him that she needed, that she longed for —safety, he made her feel safe, he made her feel cherished, he made her feel like for once she finally had a shot at love and a happily ever after. A damaged heart —so much like her own, she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame, an attraction so strong she would risk burning her wings just to be near him.
Now they are preparing to move in together and start their life. She’s eager to play sidekick to her superhero, to embark on new adventures both in and out of the bedroom. Kendra’s opened her heart, but trust doesn’t come easy, and love takes two hearts to make it work. Can Justin find a way to win over the love of his life, before her old demons come creeping back and cause Kendra to cut and run?
**WARNING** Although not a menage, this book does contain scenes of explicit f/f/m  and f/f/m/m sex.
“Are you judging me? Do you think less of me because I nailed my teacher?” His voice had taken on a defensive tone. “Because I don’t judge you for taking part in some kinky swingers shit with whips and chains.”
“I was neither whipped nor chained, thank you. And no, of course, I’m not judging you. I had just hoped that for at least one of us our first time could have been romantic and somewhat normal or conventional, where we were in a loving relationship and it was all awkward and wonderful. I guess it just kind of makes me sad.”
“Well if it’s any consolation, my first time was incredibly awkward and wonderful, I just wasn’t in love.”
“Have you ever been?”
“What… in love? You mean besides with you?”
He spun back around to face me; water droplets falling provocatively down his chiseled chest. My eyes followed the drops, past his pecs, between his abs and disappearing down beneath the bubbles to where what I’m almost certain, was a raging hard-on. I couldn’t help myself and I licked my lips at the thought of it. “No. Well maybe. I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you, so I don’t think I have been. Have you?”
I shook my head. “I don’t think so. I’ve never been in a relationship for longer than a few months, so probably not.
“So, I guess in a way then,” he said, scooping me up to place me on his lap, I shifted and shimmied until I was straddling him, the tip of his cock, bobbing enticingly against the apex of my thighs, “our first time is with each other, together.”
I wrinkled my nose in confusion.
“I mean neither of us are virgins, not by any stretch of the imagination.” He grinned when I rolled my eyes. “But we’re both virgins at love and it’s awkward and wonderful in its own way. Don’t you think?”
I smiled, loving the corny but thoughtful idea. He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against mine and then kissed the top of my head. I wrapped my arms around his neck and lifted up, sliding back down slowly until he was sheathed inside of me. He raised his eyebrows in query; we weren’t using any protection.
“We’ll pull and pray like we did before at your cabin,” I said, winking. “You can finish in my mouth.” He flashed me a salacious grin before he buried his face in my chest and began rooting for a nipple. 


Wednesday, 27 December 2017

An excerpt that will get your chestnuts roasting without an open fire #agreasemonkeychristmas #cailinbriste

We all know how tradition describes Christmas as a time for family and friends. But sometimes that doesn't work out, unless fate steps in and turns strangers to friends to possibly more.

A Grease Monkey Christmas

By Cailin Briste

One of Fourteen Sensual
Seasonal Tales in

Seasonal Shenanigans

Buy Now

Fate arranges the chance meeting of two strangers in need of a little kindness on Christmas Eve. Celebrity Davon Weider with his navy-blue eyes and muscular physique can fill the starring role in any woman’s fantasy. But Jasline, a spaceport mech, is more impressed by his five jump speed records. Until they drink some eggnog, decorate a tree, and share their mutual affection for cheesy Christmas movies. Then 

An excerpt that will get your chestnuts roasting without an open fire.

Davon was the first person to sympathize with her and demonstrate a negative reaction to her parents’ abandonment of her. It validated the anger she’d refused to acknowledge. She’d always justified her parents’ actions afraid of the guilt that would consume her if she admitted the fury she felt. How could she love her parents and hate them at the same time. Davon had managed to help her move forward with just the tone of his voice, making it plain he felt her parents had wronged her. A soothing balm had been applied to her broken heart. She was overwhelmed with a desire to repay Davon’s kindness. “You’re an amazing man, Davon Weider.”
She burrowed into his shoulder, a soft smile playing around her lips. He smelled so good. Her hand froze. She’d been drawing circles with her finger on his knee. Her libido sprang awake. The gorgeous and out-of-her-reach Davon Weider was holding her on his lap. Hands that held the controls of the ship that had set blistering jump records not once but five times were holding her hip and stroking her hair. His bare neck was an inch from her mouth. It would be easy to lean in and kiss the taut skin of his perfect throat. To trail her lips up to his ear and…
What am I thinking? He’s just being nice. You need to get off his lap now and stop swooning over him.
She straightened, easing from his embrace. “Anyway, they took their mice with them as part of their personal baggage. Um. Will you help me put the star on the tree?”
His voice husky, he said, “Yeah. Sure.” He brought his hands to the back of his head and stretched.
Jasline averted her gaze, shutting her eyes for a moment before plucking the iridescent glass star from an ornament tray. “Would you get a chair from the dining room?”
She mounted the chair with Davon insisting he hold onto her legs. To steady her, he’d said, but his hands touching her made her shaky. She placed the star on the top of the tree without the need to adjust or straighten it and clasped her hands on her hips. “Perfect.”
When she turned on the chair to climb down, Davon was staring at her, his eyes soft, lips slightly parted. Her breath caught. He raised his arms, caught her around the waist, and deposited her on the floor. Chin ducked to avoid eye contact, she said, “Thanks.”
Her heart thudding, she moved past him and picked up their eggnog glasses, handing his to him. She raised her glass and brought her gaze to his. “To Christmas.”
The slow smile that stretched his lips made Jasline’s knees go weak.

“And new friends,” he added, his voice full of languorous heat.
Buy Now

Tuesday, 26 December 2017

An excerpt to get your engine racing on a frigid night. #JeanneStJames #Max #BrothersinBlue

Elvis might have a blue Christmas with out you, but Jeanne St. James knows how to properly color your winter holidays with a bossy, possessive, brother in blue, Max Bryson. Let this police officer with ice-blue eyes send shivers down your spine.

Brothers in Blue: Max(Brothers in Blue, book 1)
By Jeanne St. James

Big city party-girl Amanda Barber has been spoiled most of her life. But life for Amanda suddenly becomes a major challenge: adapting to small town life, dealing with her handicapped brother and constantly butting heads with a frustrating local cop.

As a police officer and former Marine, “responsibility” is Max Bryson’s middle name. Never having been in a serious relationship, he has no plans for being in one in the near future. He likes being his own man. And even if he were interested in a serious relationship, he certainly wouldn’t choose it to be with someone so immature and irresponsible as Amanda. But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get sexy Amanda out of his head or his heart. Watching her mature in front of his eyes, his protectiveness towards her only strengthens.

Bossy and possessive aren’t the only words Amanda uses to describe this frustrating cop. She can’t deny just looking at the man makes her tremble. But she’s done with having anyone control her and this man isn’t going to be any different. Or is he?

An excerpt to get your engine racing on a frigid night.

It was late. Her stomach was painfully full. Greg was dozing off by the fire in his new NASCAR sweatshirt and baseball cap. Amanda wondered if she would ever be able to get him out of those clothes again.

The men had carried the ridiculous number of gifts that Greg had received to the car, then suspiciously all disappeared.

Max stomped the newly fallen snow off his feet as he came back inside. She met him at the front door.

“I brushed off the car and started it so it would warm up.”

“Thanks,” she murmured as he helped her into her faux-fur jacket.

“I can follow you home.”

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m going home anyway.”

“Oh, you don’t live here?”

Max chuckled and tilted her face up to his. “I haven’t lived with my parents since I was eighteen. I have a house closer to town.” He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip. “I’m glad you came.”

“I am too.”

He pointed to something over her head. She raised her eyes to the infamous mistletoe hanging above her.

She raised her eyebrows. He was going to kiss her? Here? In his parents’ house?

Her eyelids dropped as his head lowered.

Oh yes. He was going to kiss her. No doubt about it.

Her heart pounded.

She shouldn’t let him; her mind was saying it wasn’t a good idea. Her body was saying otherwise.

His warm breath caressed her lips and mingled with hers. She waited. And waited. Her eyelids fluttered back open; the intensity of his ice-blue eyes bored into her. She tried to speak, but he swiftly crushed her lips with his. Angling his head, he ground his tongue with hers. She reached up to grip his shirt.

Oh. Yes.

He drove his fingers into her long auburn waves to pull her even closer. Then as quickly as it began, he pulled away, laying his forehead against hers, both of them panting softly.

That was even better than she’d dreamed.

Amanda unwound her fingers from the shirt fabric, brushing her hand down his broad chest, to his narrow waist and lower… Max grabbed her wrist tightly.

“I’m having a hard time controlling myself as it is.”

She nodded slightly, touched her lips with shaky fingers, then turned away. She left him there and went to wake Greg, bundling him up in his heavy winter coat. Max continued to stand stiffly by the front door, silently watching her as they left. Legs trembling, she stepped out into the snow.

She gripped Greg’s hand to help guide him over the slippery walkway to the car. The moonlight’s reflection off the snow lit their way.

A fierce shiver ran up her spine.

Amanda wanted to think it was from the cold. But she knew better.