Melrose,

The first time I met you, you were a stranger. The second time, you were my roommate. The third time, you made it clear you were about to become the biggest thorn my side had ever known.

You sing way too loud in the shower and use all the hot water.

You’re bossy as hell.

You make my life all kinds of complicated.

But no matter how hard I try, I can’t stop thinking about you.

And truthfully … I can’t stop wanting you.

I was going to tell you this. I was going to sit you down, swallow my pride, hang up my noncommittal ways and show you a side of me you nor anyone else has ever seen before … but then you dropped a game-changing bombshell; a confession so nuclear it stopped me in my tracks.

How I didn’t see this coming, I’ll never know.

Sutter

P.S. I miss you.

Wall Street Journal and #1 Amazon bestselling author Winter Renshaw is a bona fide daydream believer. She lives somewhere in the middle of the USA and can rarely be seen without her trusty Mead notebook and ultra portable laptop. When she’s not writing, she’s living the American dream with her husband, three kids, and the laziest puggle this side of the Mississippi.

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Brea Collins's past kept resurfacing no matter how hard she tried to outrun it. When she finally settled in a small town, working at a club to save enough for what she hoped was her final escape, she never expected to meet Adrian Holden, a man who made her feel something other than fear.

Adrian's life had been far from a fairy tale. He fought in the Underground, an illegal cage fighting organization housed below an up and coming nightclub. It’s his anger and grief that fuel him, that make him the barbarian he was.

When he saw Brea, she calls out to every protective possessive instinct in him.

But their happiness can only last so long.

With two traumatic pasts and an uncertain future, there was bound to be something that drives them apart. But Adrian was determined to have Brea at all costs, and he would do everything in his power to ensure that, even if that meant raw knuckles and bodies at his feet.

Warning: Previously published under the title Adrian’s Wrath, this story has been revised, re-edited, and new content has been added.

“Look at me. I want you to see how much I want you.” Their gazes stayed locked, and her breath caught at the intensity in his expression. “You’re beautiful, Brea. Inside and out.” He dipped his head to kiss her lightly. To her disappointment he didn’t deepen it, and instead ended it far too soon. “Whatever happened to you doesn’t shape who you are as a person. It might control you temporarily, but inside, under all that hurt and pain, is the real you just waiting to be awakened.”
The way he talked, so passionately, led Brea to believe that maybe he was referring to himself instead of her. She would like to believe what he’d said, but there was a part of her that knew she might be broken, that maybe she’d never be able to be whole again.
Not thinking, just needing to feel him, Brea closed the distance that separated them and kissed him with as much passion as she felt for him. His grunt of surprise spurred her on. Her clit throbbed, and her pussy ached to be filled.
She slid her hand back, along his muscular thigh, and when she reached the hard, thick length of his erection straining against the material, an involuntary moan left her. As if that sound broke him, Adrian gripped her shoulders and pulled her impossibly close.
Her hand curled around the iron-hard ridge, and a shudder went through his body. “I want you so fucking bad, Brea.” His hips jacked up as he ground his cock against her. One of his hands slid off her shoulder and made a slow trek down her side, resting on top of her thigh. The heat from his touch went straight through the thin material.
Surprisingly she didn’t feel anxiety over this. All she felt was intense pleasure and the need to go further.
Maybe I’m not broken after all.
“Is this okay?” he murmured against her mouth.
She found herself nodding, not able to actually form words as she started kissing him again.
In the next instant he gripped her waist and pulled her on top of him. She straddled his waist, their kiss never breaking, gasps of surprise leaving her. Pleasure, arousal, need … all that and more claimed her.
Both of his hands were now gripping her waist, and he pressed her down on him at the same time that he lifted his hips.
“Oh.” Her dress had ridden up, her thighs now fully exposed. She closed her eyes as her pussy, covered only in thin cotton, pressed aggressively against his jean-clad cock. The need to feel more of him, all of him, was so strong she had to break the kiss and gasp for air.
“I want so much more of you.” Adrian started kissing her neck, and Brea tilted her head to the side, relishing the feel of his lips and tongue sliding along the übersensitive spot right below her ear. She’d never felt anything so powerful before, never desired so strongly.
“Do you like that, baby?” He ran his tongue over the spot again, and she shivered.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I want inside of you so bad, Brea.”
A gasp left her at his blunt statement, and a warm wave washed through her. Brea started grinding herself on him. Brain fuzzy from desire, she was vaguely aware of Adrian’s palms sliding over her ass and cupping the mounds.
God, she didn’t want this to end.

Jenika Snow, a USA Today bestselling author, lives in the northeast with her husband and their children.

She prefers gloomy days, eats the topping off of her pizza first, and prefers to wear socks year round.

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I thought my demons were behind me... until my Angel showed up.

Axe
For years, I kept a savage hiding beneath the surface. All that time, it threatened to break out and unleash the storm of my past. But when our MC starts to evolve from outlaw arms dealer to a legitimate private protection and security company, my past can no longer stay buried.

Then Angel walks into my life, and all hell breaks loose.

She's a curvy, unassuming librarian. She's hot as hell and made just for me.

But can she handle a man like me? Is she ready for the ride of her life with a man standing in the eye of a storm that's heading right for us both?

Either way, she's going to be mine.

AUTHORS NOTE: Filthy Savage is the third standalone story in the Satan's Saints MC romance series. It's a wild, emotionally dark, and dangerous full length romance with a happily ever after ending. By popular demand, this story is an all-human MC spin on the book originally titled Bruised MC Bear by Bella Love-Wins. Each book in the series can be read in any order.

Axe

It took all of my willpower not to beat the living shit out of Dean fucking Roman. I probably would have, were it not for the fact that the man is used to being the alpha male in any room. Plus, touching a hair on his pretty little head will inevitably lead to more retribution between the Satan’s Saints and Mongols MC. I just wish I didn’t promise Silas that I’d stay out of trouble. The man got in my personal space, thinking he could threaten or scare me. And he stood too damn close to Angel. It took a lot of effort to walk away from her.
Fuck, how did two short conversations with this girl lead to such an insane level of possessiveness?
Which is why I stuck around outside the saloon like a lurker, waiting to make sure she left that bar in one piece.
“You again? Didn’t we do this all ready?” Angel asks, lowering her car window when I make it across the parking lot to her side.
“Nice to see you too,” I answer, smiling.
She turns off the engine and steps out of the car. She just stands there, her arms folded and her neck craned up, staring into my face. “Give me a good reason why I should entertain spending any more time with you. None of them can have anything to do with grinding on you, like you said in there, or my hands on your body, or my mouth, and vice versa. Go.”
Fuck.
She has a mouth on her.
I can’t believe how much I love it.
Arching my brows, I meet her gaze and absently lick my lips. The threat of backtalk in her eyes makes my skin hot all over. I lean forward an inch, and Angel’s breath hitches in her chest. She nervously lifts a hand into her gorgeous blonde tresses, trying to hide her reaction. Too late. I’ve already seen it. A split second of vulnerability.
“You know why,” I whisper.
Angel runs her tongue across her full bottom lip, and her eyes narrow. “We can keep playing this little game of yours, Axe,” she rasps out in a voice that’s fucking seductive. “But I’m going to tell you now, if you win, it’ll be on my terms. And that’s a big if, my friend. I’m not a woman to be pushed around. You need to be prepared for a fight.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. First of all, this is not a game. And second, the only fighting you’ll see is when I fight for you, not with you.”
Angel doesn’t have a fiery comeback to that. Her jaw relaxes and her lips part. I ease my fingertip down the line of her cheek as I wait for an answer.
She answers me, all right.
Loud and fucking clear.
“Fine,” she says, and I feel her tiny hands fly up to my chest. They skim down my abs, and lower, then she palms my groin through my jeans. Without breaking from my gaze, Angel bats her eyelids, giving me an innocent stare while her hand strokes my growing bulge. Damn, I underestimated this firecracker. As quickly as she starts, she removes her hand, turns, and ducks her head into the driver side window for a moment.
I enjoy the view of her thick, sweet ass while she gets whatever she’s looking for. When she straightens up, she throws the keys over to me.
“I hope you know I don’t do this often,” she says, walking around to the passenger side.
“Don’t do what exactly?”
“Take home strays,” she grins. “Try to keep up, will you? And by the way, I really love my car. Try not to drive it like a Harley.”
“I know exactly when to be gentle and when to be rough, sweet thing,” I tease. My cock throbs in my pants when her eyes flash with recognition of what I mean.
“Let me be the judge of that,” she murmurs. I’m about to walk around the front of the car to open her door, but she raises her hand to stop me. “I can manage opening my own door. You drive.”
I jump in and start the car, slowly easing it out of the parking spot in reverse. The second she clicks the seatbelt around her, I rev the engine and speed out from the gravel parking lot in her sedan.
“It’s not the Indy 500, buddy.”
“I’m starting to see that. Where are we off to?”
“My apartment is about eight blocks from where we met. Head to Desert Java and I’ll give you directions when we’re closer.”
“Sure.” I turn out to the main street and drive toward the highway. “So, you know Dean Roman pretty well, I see.”
“I do. His cousin is my best friend. We’ve known each other for years. How about you?”
I hesitate. Angel may think she knows Dean and his cousin, but I have no way to tell whether she knows how deep they are in the biker life. Or organized crime, for that matter. “Let’s just say we run in some of the same business circles.”
“Really? For a second back there, I thought you’d need a referee. No sane person would believe the two of you work together.”
“We don’t. We’re more like competitors in a boxing ring, except right now, we’re both in our respective corners, waiting for the referee to either call the win, or throw us back in for another round.”
“Interesting.”
I sense her breathing changing slightly. She’s more relaxed now, sinking back into the car’s leather bucket seats, her eyes closed, drifting off.
“Angel?” I call to her.
“Hmmm?” she hums.
“I’ll need your address pretty soon.”
“Oh, right.” She opens her eyes and straightens up, seeming more alert. “Take a right at the second side street up ahead. You can park on the street. You know, I never asked how you plan to get back on your bike tonight.”
“I figured you’d give me a ride back later on.”
“What if I can’t wake up until morning?”
“Waking up won’t be the problem, honey,” I answer, and she glances over at me with the cutest little grin on her face. “Walking may be, but not waking up. In fact, I may have to keep you up all night long, after what you just started back there.”
Angel lets out a moan on her exhale. “You’re really going all out with this.”
“You’re the one that started the hand job in the middle of that parking lot.”
“Park the car at the end of this street. All the way to the edge.”
“Is this where you live? Near a deserted corner?” I ask, coming to a stop. I let the engine run while waiting for her answer.
“No.” She hops out of the passenger side and walks around to my side, gesturing for me to lower the window. “I’m just not sure I’m ready to invite you into my home yet,” she admits.
“Honesty is good, but you’re no safer out here.”
Angel leans down to me, smiling as she rests an arm on the window. “I think you should leave it running.”
“I see.”
“Get out here.”
I step into the cooler night air, leaving the door open. Angel takes my hand, making slow steps backward until she’s leaning against the trunk of the car. She places my arms on either side of her, and runs her hands up my chest, locking them behind my neck.
“What is it about touching you that makes my fingertips so hot?” she asks, her light blue eyes staring up at me.
I shrug my shoulders, but am a lot less interested in talking at a time like this. I groan as Angel walks her fingers back down my chest, all the way to my belt buckle. She loosens it a bit and slides her hand down my jeans.
“Mmmm,” she moans, stroking my cock. “I should’ve guessed that you can back up all that arrogance with something…real.”
Groaning from her confident touch, my eyes fall closed and my hips rock into her hand job. Whatever she’s been thinking of doing out here, I can’t wait much longer to start. Gripping her waist, I lift her up to sit on the trunk lid, and part her legs. Dragging the hem of her skirt up to her hips, I nestle in between her thighs. Angel kicks off her pumps and wraps her legs around my hips. Her hands roam up to my neck again, fingers lacing up into my hair, lips only inches away from my chin. I can’t wait a second longer to taste that full, pouty mouth.
I tilt her chin up, slide my fingers to the back of her head, gripping a handful of hair. Angel’s breathing becomes ragged, and her eyes close as my lips cover her mouth for a hungry kiss. She tastes fucking delicious. Like honey on tap. I explore her mouth with my tongue, parting her legs wider. Running my other hand up her leg, I grip a handful of her ass. Fuck, I could explore every inch of her curves if we weren’t out in the open right now. My fingers trail up her inner thighs, not stopping at her lacy panties. She’s warm and wet, already pushing against my fingers to invite them inside of her.
As I slip past her panties and breach her folds with two fingers, she lets out a moan against my mouth. Fuck. She’s so fucking tight. I feel her fingernails dig into my back, and her breasts press against my chest, craving more contact. Sliding my fingers deeper only makes me want her more. And not out here. The further I go, the more she rocks her hips, her tight inner walls clenching my digits. All I can think of is burying my cock deep in her. I want to feel that hot, snug fit of her pussy all around my shaft. Putting my thumb to work, I flick her sensitive bud through the smooth fabric each time her hips roll. I can’t help but smile when Angel pulls from my kiss and presses her palms against the trunk of the car, gripping the seam of the opening as she rides my fingers and draws closer to her climax.
She’s grinding her hips, and I pump my fingers in and out of her, harder and deeper each time, spreading her and curving the tips of my fingers to reach her sweet spot. And when I do, her body goes wild. Her inner walls tighten, her body trembles, and a few seconds later, she grasps on to my biceps and whimpers through a powerful orgasm. After her movements settle down, I pull my fingers from her. Her eyes are on me when I reach my hand up to my mouth and suck both fingers clean. Tasting her sweet nectar threatens to strip away all my control, but I hold it together. I help her off the trunk, holding her body tight against mine until she can stand.
This is the longest Angel has gone without saying a word.
After a few minutes, she holds herself up and heads to the driver side.
“That was… you’ve got some skills. Real potential,” she mutters as I open her door.
“Thanks, I think.” I close the door once she’s inside. “Can you make it home on your own?” I ask. “I’d prefer to walk you to your front door.”
“Thanks for the offer, but I’m fine,” she tells me, sounding winded and still wrapped up in all that pleasure I gave her. “How are you going to get back to your bike?”
“I’ll make it just fine.”
Her brows furrow with worry. “I don’t feel right leaving you like this. It’s at least a few miles to the saloon.”
“Don’t you worry about me. Have a good night, Angel,” I say to her and turning to leave on foot.
The walk will do me good. Which is perfect because the way I see it, I have her exactly where I want her. She’s already craving more, and probably wondering what kind of iron will I have, leaving without the benefit of at least one good orgasm.
For now, I’ll let her cool off and get her head back on straight.

I'm a Wall Street Journal (Begging for Bad Boys, April, 2017) and USA Today (Begging for Bad Boys, Alpha for the Holidays, Shifters in the Snow: Bundle of Joy, Shifters in the Shadows) Bestselling Author.

I love reading and writing steamy, high-action romance stories about firefighters, billionaires, and alpha males who know what they want and aren't afraid of laying claim to the women who catch their interest. I love a happy ever after ending. I enjoy reading, hiking, the countryside, and traveling to destinations unspoiled by commercial tourism, like Las Vegas... :)

Like so many characters in my novels, I enjoy action, romance and unexpected love connections that take your breath away. For the next while, you'll find me plotting and writing about my latest stories on my Macbook.

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The Doctor will see you on August 29th. Keep reading for an excerpt!

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For years, he was a part of my life. I watched him rush to the hospital countless times, his beautiful surgeon hands racing to save lives.

After all this time, I can’t escape the truth.

I want Dr. Lowe.

Lust chokes each moment we’re together. He promises to fulfill my fantasies—every dirty, naughty desire we can dream up.

Only, I can’t have him.

He’s confident. Experienced. Seductive.

And he’s my ex-boyfriend’s father.

EXCERPT:

It was a nicer waiting room than where I’d just been, but much smaller. Only enough room for six people or so. This had to be the place where doctors delivered their post-op summary to families. I turned to face him, and all the air whooshed from my lungs. Greg was essentially wearing a suit. He wore black dress pants, a white collared shirt and a cobalt-colored tie. His suitcoat was fitted and white, and he completed the look with a turquoise stethoscope slung around his neck. My gaze traced the blue lettering over his right breast. Gregory Lowe, MD Trauma Surgery It didn’t matter that he had faint lines around his eyes hinting at his fatigue, or that his normally perfect hair looked disheveled, as if he’d run a hand through it one too many times. It didn’t matter because he looked fucking perfect. My dirty doctor fantasy come to life. And he gazed back at me like he wanted to eat me whole, which was more than fine with me. He sauntered over, and his confidence seemed to build with each step, widening his wicked smile. His voice was deep and sinful. “What seems to be the problem?” “Problem?” I whispered. “You’re flushed. Breathing hard.” He seized my wrist, pressed his index finger to my pulse point, and peered down at his watch, counting the seconds. “Your pulse is elevated.” I had no idea my wrist was an erogenous zone, but in Greg’s hands, every inch of my skin felt that way. I swallowed a breath. “I’m having a reaction to something.” God, his expression was corrupt and victorious as he walked me backward toward a wall. He feigned concern. “Any idea what’s causing it?” He wasn’t playing fair, but I liked it. “No . . . Doctor.” The second the words left my mouth, we burst into flames. His lips slammed against mine at the same instant my back hit the wall. His hands were on my waist, then under my shirt, sliding over my belly and skimming upward. I clenched the lapels of his coat as our tongues tangled with each other, battling for control. He won, of course. It made sense that our kiss was electric because I was a live wire tonight. His broad chest flattened against me, his hands molding to my bra-covered breasts while he pushed me against the wall. I tore my mouth from his and turned my head to the side so I could drag air into my lungs, and his hot, wet mouth latched onto the sensitive spot below my ear, biting and sucking until I let out a moan. It was wild what we were doing, and how fast we attacked each other, but the where we were doing this was craziest part of it. He didn’t seem to have any concerns though. “Undo your pants,” he rasped into my ear. “I want to check and see how severe this reaction is.” “Oh my God,” I gasped. Without thinking, my hands moved to follow his command. He pulled his lower body away from mine, just enough to allow me to do it. The snap of my jeans popped open, and I couldn’t get my zipper down fast enough. Should I be worried about someone catching us? I wasn’t. I trusted him. Greg wouldn’t put either of us in a position for that to happen, and his calm, focused expression reinforced it. He looked absolutely in control, both of me and the situation. His dark eyes sharpened on mine, studying my response while he slid his hand down the front of my panties. My lips parted as his fingers found me hot and wet for him. What did I look like, clutching his arms right above his elbows as his fingers twitched on my swollen clit? I shuddered with pleasure. Had my pupils dilated? Could he tell my heart rate was racing through the roof? His lips peeled back in a smug smile. “That is quite the reaction.” Those skilled fingers stirred me further, and I tightened my grip on his arms, biting off a louder moan. Shit, his touch was magic. It lit me up. He could tell too, because his eyes burned with enjoyment. “And you’re still not sure what’s causing it?” He liked this scene as much as I did. Maybe more. About the Author: Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and manages a team of graphic artists. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, is married with two sons, writes dirty books, and couldn’t be any happier. Stalk Nikki: Website: http://www.nikkisloane.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/nikkisloaneauthor/?fref=ts Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/AuthorNSloane Amazon: http://amzn.to/2fsTzpI Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/NikkiSloane

Wild by M. Malone & Nana Malone is AVAILABLE NOW!

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Will be free in Kindle Unlimited from August 15, 2018 Only available at the following retailers for TODAY ONLY:

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Talia Hamilton has one mission. To have fun in college and for once, break out of her shell. So who does she end up dancing with on her first night clubbing? Cage Ward, the star of all her high school dirty dreams and the only man to ever break her heart. So much for breaking free. Cage Ward should be enjoying the single life. But all it takes is one kiss from a mystery girl on the dance floor and he wants to brand her as his. That is...until he realizes the sexy girl with lips to tempt and a body for sin, is his best friend’s little sister. The same girl he just promised to keep his hands, lips, and dick off of. So much for friendship.

ALSO AVAILABLE

Wicked

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COMING SOON

Wanton: Releasing August 28, 2018

Only available at the following retailers until August 28, 2018

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CONNECT WITH THE AUTHORS NYT & USA Today bestselling author M. Malone lives in the Washington, DC metro area with her husband and their two sons. She holds a master’s degree in Business from a prestigious college that would no doubt be scandalized by how she’s using her expensive education. Independently published, she has sold more than 1/2 million ebooks in her two series, THE ALEXANDERS and BLUE-COLLAR BILLIONAIRES. Since starting her indie journey in 2011 with the runaway bestselling novella “Teasing Trent,” her work has appeared on the New York Times and USA Today bestseller lists more than a dozen times. She’s now a full-time writer and spends 99.8% of her time in her pajamas. Website: http://www.minxmalone.com/ Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/minxmalone Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/minxmalone USA Today bestselling author Nana Malone‘s love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense novel she “borrowed” from her cousin. It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick-butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination constantly channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters. While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as brazen and kick-butt as she thinks she is. Website: http://www.nanamalone.com/ Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/nanamalonewriter Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/nanamalone

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He might only be a fake boyfriend.
But he’s going to make sure she’s not faking… anything.

Tabitha Riley needs a date for her sister’s wedding … and fast.
It doesn’t matter that her sister is marrying her ex-boyfriend.

She could care less about that.
It’s showing up to the wedding single and alone, feeling her family’s pity and hearing their snide remarks about her lack of social life, that she can’t handle.

Enter Dr. Brody Miner.

He’s the man fantasies are made of, especially Tabitha’s.
Still, it is just a simple arrangement. No real relationship, nothing more than a date to a wedding.
One friend helping out another friend.
But Brody is used to getting what he wants and he definitely wants Tabitha Riley—
Over and over again.

“I didn’t mean that, Tabitha. I meant men should be lined up at your door dying for a chance to spend time with you.”
“Brody you’re being really sweet, but you don’t need to try and make me feel bett—”
“I’m being honest. You’re funny, kind, smart, you have eyes a man could stare at the rest of his life and never get bored. You have the cutest little dimple when you smile and I find myself wanting to see more and more of it.”
“Brody—”
“And your body… I find myself dreaming about your body, Tabitha.”
“I… maybe we should call it a night…”
“Dreaming of touching it, wondering if it would be as soft as my imagination says it is,” he whispers and as he’s talking his fingers are brushing up and down my arm. I feel like I’m being drugged, falling under his spell. I should fight it, but I don’t really want to. The promise in his face, the intensity of it makes me want to follow everywhere he might lead. Dangerous…I know it is, but it’s what I want.
“Brody,” I whisper and I don’t know if I want to tell him we shouldn’t do this, or if I want to beg him to kiss me.
“Are you soft all over, Tabitha?” he asks.
“You could find out,” I dare him.

Tory likes to write quick romantic stories that make her smile. She loves connecting with her readers and you can get in touch with her by writing to: torybakerbooks@gmail.com

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THE MONSTER WANTS HER. HE WON’T BE DENIED.

I've become a monster.

I hear blood moving in people’s veins. Scent their emotions.

I want to feed. To hunt. To mate...




I'm no longer a human--my life is over.

I've left everyone I love. I've gone rogue from the CIA.

My only hope is my handler.




Annabel gray is tough enough to face my monster. If I lose control, she won't hesitate to take me out. But I'm not the only predator out there. Someone's hunting Annabel.




She needs my protection.

But if I don’t get my animal under control,

I may be her biggest threat yet.

Chapter One

Annabel

I buy an icecream cone and sit on the wall at Venice Beach, blending in with the hordes of beachgoers. I dressed to fit in--I’m wearing a halter top and shorts with wrap-around sandals I can still run in if I need to.

I can’t believe I’m upset by the fact that Charlie Dune hooked up with someone last night. Why in the hell would I care?

We don’t have a relationship.

I’m his handler, for God’s sake.

Yeah, he’s hot. All the field agents I’ve met appeal to me. I mean what’s not enthralling about highly intelligent men whose bodies are trained weapons? Agents who supposedly can single-handedly bring down governments or start wars? Agents who can rescue hostages or--rumor has it--execute a kill order? I know I’ve never passed along orders like that, but my clearance level isn’t high.

Dune, like all field agents, is built of chiseled muscle. He’s not huge or tall. They never are--they need to be able to slip in and out of places unnoticed. Blend in.

I have a thing for spies, I guess. Particularly Dune. Something happened last month between us. Actually, it’s probably all in my head. Which is why I’m an intelligence analyst, not a field agent. I over-emotionalize. Get personal with people and situations. I care too deeply. Despite my basic combat training, I’d never be able to pull the trigger on anyone, even if my life depended on it.

I bent some rules and put my own job on the line to get some information last month for Dune. He said he lost someone involved with the lab fires. And I probably over-personalized that.

Because I know what it’s like to be investigating our government’s dirty secrets when it involves a loved one.

“Chocolate--my favorite,” a deep voice rumbles behind me.

I don’t jump. I’m used to him appearing out of thin air. What I’m not used to is how close he comes in. If I didn’t think it was crazy, I’d swear he leaned in to inhale my scent.

I turn and find his face too near to mine and the green of his eyes appears to change to ice blue in the sunlight.

Damn.

Yeah, he’s hotter than I remembered. In a tight black t-shirt--the kind that stretches over his hard muscles--and a ball cap pulled low over his green eyes, he looks the perfect hunky California surfer.

He steals the ice cream cone from me and takes a big lick. Well, this is definitely different. We’re practically sharing spit.

Is he flirting?

Oh, that’s ripe. After he missed our morning meeting because of some hook up he had. I never knew Dune was such a player, but it fits. Field agents can’t have permanent relationships so they become man-whores, getting it whenever and wherever they want.

Asshole.

I turn to face him and watch as he completely demolishes the ice cream cone. I mean, I didn’t know you could eat a cone that fast.

So I guess we’re not sharing spit.

He has the grace to look shame-faced as he licks the last bit off his fingers. “I’ll buy you another one.”

I roll my eyes. “Don’t bother. I only bought it for cover.”

“What’s the assignment?”

I can’t stop my annoyance from surfacing, even though he’s always all-business. “Your no-show this morning may have cost us the mission.”

His face remains impassive, and under the ballcap, his eyes keep roving the landscape, like he’s taking in every person who passes, everything about our surroundings. He’s so damn alert. “I’ll fix it. What’s the mission?”

The thing is--I believe him. I’m sure he’ll fix it. He’s the kind of agent who gets results, which is why he gets paid the big bucks.

Still, I’m not over feeling pissy. I flick on my tablet and share the screen with him. “Target is Lucius Frangelico. He lives in Hollywood. Occupation, unknown. Possible mafia, possible drug kingpin. Definitely into something. They want him bugged and tracked.”

“Why is this a CIA job rather than FBI?”

“He has ties to Al Qaeda. Travels internationally. May be selling weaponry. This is a preliminary investigation.”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Yeah, well, he left California this afternoon on a private plane. So now you have to find him.”

He nods, sober. “I will.”

I’m sure he’s right. I have complete faith in him. And I still feel like he owes me an apology for no-showing to our meeting earlier.

As if he reads minds, too, he meets my gaze. “I’m sorry about this morning. It won’t happen again.”

“Dune, I don’t care what you do on your off time, but when I call you in, you show up.” I can pull a bitch when the occasion calls for it.

He rubs a hand across his stubbled jaw, still subtly glancing in all directions without moving his head. “Yeah. I was… incapacitated.”

I arch a brow. “Was she that good?”

His head draws back and brows slam down. “What?” His laugh is unexpected--maybe to both of us. I detect relief in it, which I file away to examine later. “No, it wasn’t a woman--I wish.” He gives his head a quick shake. “I mean--” He stops, his jade eyes meeting mine.

For a second neither of us speaks, gazes tangled, locked. Something flutters in my belly. His nostrils flare and I watch the same trick of the light make his eyes flash blue. My lips part in surprise and his gaze dips there. “It wasn’t a woman.” His voice is deeper than I remember.

“What was it, then?” My voice has lost all authority--it sounds pathetically breathy to my ears.

He shakes his head. “Something else.” He suddenly looks tired, almost defeated.

I’m shocked by a need to soothe him. A need to know what demons haunt this brave warrior. What does he hide under that impenetrable mask of deadly capability?

“Listen.” He touches my nape, just under where the halter top ties. Energy shoots through me at the light contact, tingles of pleasure racing across my skin. I know this is just for show--we’re playing the part of a flirty beach couple, but the thrumming that starts between my legs doesn’t understand that. “I want to thank you for the help you gave me last month. You helped save a kidnapped child, so… it made a difference.”

My mind wants to run down the path of figuring out whose child he was saving--his? A friends?--but all I can focus on is the light circles he traces on my skin. My breath hitches.

“I’m glad it helped.”

“I owe you one. Call it in when you need it.”

My nipples tighten. “Oh, I will.” The confidence returns to my voice, but for some inexplicable reason, I choose this moment to blush. Maybe because of his penetrating stare, like he’s trying to decipher what possible reason I might have for requesting favor from him.

I hope to God I’ll never need to. But the file I extracted for him isn’t the only redacted data I’ve hacked. And considering which department of the government I work for, consequences could be more than a slap on the wrist. You never know.

So having a friend capable of protecting my life could come in handy.

“You’ve uploaded the information to me?” he asks, tapping my tablet, back to business.

I nod. “Yes. Let me know when it’s done.”

“Of course.” He starts to step away, then turns back. “Annabel.”

He’s never called me by my first name before. It has an effect on me, like he has me by the throat--but in a good way. He commands my full attention--my stiff nipples throb, tingles race over skin. “Are you in some kind of trouble?”

I hesitate, then shake my head. Not yet.

He nods. “You’ll tell me when I need to know.”

And then he’s gone, blending into the crowd of people and disappearing as quickly as he appeared.

Right. I’ll tell him when he needs to know.

I truly hope that time won’t come.

Why, then, does the idea of not sharing my secret with him disappoint me?

Renee Rose

USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky BDSM novels. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews' Best Sci-fi, Paranormal, Historical, Erotic, Ageplay and favorite couple and author. She's hit #1 on Amazon in multiple categories in the U.S. and U.K., is often found on the list of Amazon's Top Author list. She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams.

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Lee Savino

Lee Savino has grandiose goals but most days can’t find her wallet or her keys so she just stays at home and writes. While she was studying creative writing at Hollins University, her first manuscript won the Hollins Fiction Prize.

She lives in Richmond, Va with her awesome family> You can find her on Facebook in the Goddess Group (which you totally should join).

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