Ohhh, this might be another favorite of mine! What really happened when Brodie Steele–Cat’s big bro–saved Josh and Leelee’s wedding from the OutFAGEous Fans of Nicky Love?
Bonus scene #2 from Love, In The Fast Lane. What do we have here? Oh, yes. The smack heard around the world, otherwise known as: When Cat first met Nicky. I hope you enjoy this look into our feisty woman‘s mind! Wildcat Catarina “Wildcat” Steele POV. Scene from Chapter Seventeen, Stone, At Your Service. First run-in with Nicky Love at Stone’s Garage. I liked Ray. I liked him a lot. He was sort of a cuddly teddy bear with his unruly blond hair. In fact he reminded me of a soft toy I’d lugged around everywhere when I was three-four-five years old. I’d dragged it through grass and mud and dirt, but my mom had always washed Teddy so I could cuddle with him at night.
Those times of innocence were long gone. The summer nights in my childhood home when I’d left the windows open to the salt marsh South Carolina breeze, the easy days of being free, a little bit wild, the only girl—and tomboy—of the Steele family—those days were nothing more than memories now. I was the reason it had all ended. “Hey, girl.” Ray scratched at his nose above the thick whiskers of his mustache. “Got a couple more orders for customers to go. You with me?” “Absolutely.” I leaned over the auto parts book beside him, willing myself to focus. It was a daily struggle, staying on the straight and narrow path. I managed my life through sheer willpower alone. There was no room for bad decisions or deviations. That was my fault, too. The Stone’s Garage account was new to my and my brothers’ Chrome and Steele business venture, but I knew how to handle Josh Stone and his mechanics. I’d been around men my whole life—the rough, the rowdy, the louder the better. I always thought the more macho the man, the bigger the heart he was hiding inside. I hadn’t been proved wrong yet. Like Stone’s mechanics, my big bad brothers—huge MC dudes—were nothing but pussycats underneath. That went for all the Presidents of Retribution members, from the latest probie to the oldest patch. The MC was my family now. They just didn’t understand I was a grown ass woman and fully capable of taking caring of myself nine times out of ten. As I tapped on my tablet and completed Ray’s order, the roar of an engine dragged my attention to the parking lot outside the window. The Jeep making the ruckus was old school, on raised tires, and covered in mud from bumper to bumper. Josh Stone ambled over. His arm was wrapped around the waist of a curvy, red-haired woman. “Who’s that?” I asked. “Leelee Songchild. Boss’s lady love. Reunited, and it feels so good.” A smile peeked around my lips. “Why’s that?” “He’s been one ornery sumbitch since he and Nicky returned from their stint in Atlanta in May. He didn’t take too kindly to losin’ his woman,” Ray drawled. “So, is Leelee staying?” “Why? You interested in Josh?” I snorted. The Hell No. “Yeah. No.” Sure Josh was athletic model sexy with a rough side and a warm heart, but it was clear he was one hundred percent taken. I’d never had designs on him anyway. “He’s not my type,” I added. “Oh, and I can’t wait to tell him that.” Ray chuckled. “Make sure you get him to sign the check first.” I winked. Then the guy from the Jeep jumped out. Oh, hell yes. I stared at the man until my eyeballs felt dry. Then I lifted up my ever-present sunglass and stared some more. Talk about my type to a T. A tight fitting black t-shirt, to be exact, on a long muscled torso. I didn’t need to ask the name of the hunk. I immediately realized the Nicky Ray had mentioned wasn’t a woman. Not at all. That there was Nicky Love. From a distance, he looked rugged. His hair was loose, and the dark brown waves that fell to his shoulders flicked a little in the wind. His broad shoulders narrowed to a trim waist and—when he turned around—a nice-looking ass. He had the most desirable V-shape going on, and any woman with a heartbeat would want a piece of that. Myself included. I knew what he looked like close-up, too. On his book jackets he was mouth-watering yummy. Yes, yummy. There was no other way to describe such sexy looks—the unusual pale purple eyes, his sensual lips, the shadow of stubble on the strong jaw, and a very naughty grin that probably compelled women all across the world to buy his books. Jesus, he nearly compelled my feet to walk right out the door so I could get a closer look in person. He stood with one arm propped against the trailer behind his Jeep, talking animatedly to Josh and Leelee. When he motioned toward the garage, I fought the urge to duck down. If I ducked I’d lose sight of him. “Ohmyfuckingchrist,” Ray growled in one long syllable. “Not you, too.” I tore my gaze from the man who’d somehow turned my cool-as-they-come nerves into a pile of mush within a matter of minutes. “Huh?” “My old woman Bev makes those same gooey eyes at him.” He made a gagging noise. “It’s just Nicky Love. The same boy who worked right here alongside Josh since their high school days.” I knew full well who Nicky Love was. (1) He was one of my favorite paranormal romance authors. (2) He was a confirmed skirt-chaser. (3) Worse, he was sexy as hell. Clearly danger. It was a wonder we’d never run into each other before. Mt. Pleasant wasn’t that big no matter how many out-of-staters moved in. The old families still lived on the same land they’d grown up on: The Stones, the Steeles, Gerald and his Gullah kin . . . I turned my attention back to Nicky, and Ray muffled another curse that made me smile. I knew quite a bit about Nicky, but I’d never taken him for a motorcycle man. Yet, if I wasn’t mistaken, the hulk of motorcycle parts on the trailer he hauled was none other than a vintage Indian Chief. The bike was a classic. It was one more thing that made Nicky Love incredibly attractive. Not that I was a bike whore. I didn’t need to be. I had my own Harley. “Yep. I can see we’re done here,” Ray said. He prodded me forward, and opened the door for me. We stepped outside, going from the cool air-conditioned interior to the blazing parking lot. As soon as the door jingled, Nicky Love’s head swung in our direction. His gaze locked on me and stayed there. I focused on Ray, not the man who checked me out from head to toe and back again. We took a last look at the parts order, and I checked off a couple extra details. I was just putting the books and tablet in my bag when Ray muttered, “Trouble. Headed this way.” Oh dear Lord. I tried to calm my speeding pulse. This was ridiculous. I slid my sunglasses back on and yanked down on the cuffs of my long-sleeved cotton shirt. My hair was pulled back tight, my pants and blouse pristine, and I made sure I showed no emotion as Nicky loped toward us. I couldn’t let my shell crack, not for anyone. Especially not a man who wrote a lot of smoking hot sex scenes and looked like smoking hot sex on legs. Damn. Nicky stopped right in front of me. “Ray.” He nodded at the man beside me, but his beautiful violet-colored gaze never left me. It was unnerving to be the sole object of his attention. “Hey, man. What the crap is that eyesore you’re haulin’ around behind your Jeep?” Ray pumped Nicky’s hand and slapped him on the back. “You know, you sound more and more like Josh every day. I think those were his words verbatim. And I’ll tell you what I told him, you’re a philistine.” I interrupted their squabbling, “If I’m not mistaken that’s an Indian Chief.” I sent a small smile to Nicky. “Or it will be, one day.” His deep laugh did something warm and wonderful to me. I wanted to join in with him. “I don’t believe we’ve met. Nick Loveland.” He held out his hand. So that was how he was going to play it. Not the bestselling novelist but the downhome good old boy. Great. And I could pretend I was completely unaffected by him. He stood so close fine hairs raised on the back of my neck. His heat was fiercer than the June sun. If he wasn’t wearing cologne, he should just bottle his natural scent—spice, leather, and man—and make another million bucks. “Catarina Steele.” I slid my hand into his. The warm curling sensation from his laugh magnified with his touch. “Pleasure to meet you.” Pulling my hand free, I said, “Likewise.” With a barely perceptible nod, he dismissed Ray. My teddy bear safety net strode away. “You know bikes?” Nicky asked. “Only like the back of my hand.” Which he was going to feel across his face if he didn’t step off so I could regain my composure. I took comfort in my slacks and my buttoned up shirt and my superior glare as I made sure not a single crack showed. My sunglasses hid any otherwise visible emotions. “Hmm,” he hummed, stepping even closer. “And you’re co-owner of Chrome and Steele?” Because of his proximity, I had to tilt my head to see his face. I was fairly tall. He was a hell of a lot taller. The breadth of his chest and shoulders, the sexy at-ease stance threatened to disarm me. “Yes.” I willed my voice to remain steady as I stood my ground. “Maybe you could hook me up?” His lips curved just the right amount to invite a kiss. “I assume you mean professionally.” Because it sure sounded like some variation of hook up with me. Nicky leaned so close his hair brushed my cheek. “Wouldn’t mind bein’ a little unprofessional with you.” A loose tendril of my hair blew across my face. He reached to tuck it away, murmuring, “Whaddya say, Wildcat?” That was when I reeled back and smacked him across the face so hard my hand imprint colored his cheek immediately. If I hadn’t lashed out, I would’ve latched onto him and dragged him to my lips. “I’m nobody’s Wildcat,” I hissed. Before he could tempt me anymore—or I landed a slap on his other cheek—I pivoted away. I tossed my bag into my car, climbed in, and slammed the door. The dark black tinted windows all but hid me from view, but they didn’t hide Nicky Love. He kept watching with a wide grin on his face. I jammed on the gas to get away from him. Danger? Nicky Love was way more than danger. He was sexy, arrogant, sexy, probably sinfully delicious, and he posed a huge threat to my very contained, very controlled life. I couldn’t let him anywhere near me. I’d fought too hard to get where I was. Before I pulled out onto 17 North, I checked my rearview mirror. He was still rubbing his jaw and staring after me, with that grin on his lips. Trouble. Exactly. Don’t forget, Ride comes out January 8th for just 99 cents! Link below. And I’m wishing you a very excellent start to the new year. LOVE ON AMAZON STONE ON AMAZONRIDE ON AMAZON Yup. You heard that correctly. It’s Frankie the Tailor and Augie from Sugar Daddy. Just a little bit of extra fun from Love, In The Fast Lane. Bonus scene #1. Love, In The Fast Lane and Sugar Daddy Mash-up
Frankie the Tailor and August DuBose the Gay Gadabout Town I ambled up to the tables outside Rue de Jean restaurant easily spotting August’s Panama hat. My cane tapped on the flagstones, and he turned his head. “August, my man.” He stood as I approached. His silver hair glinted in the sun, and I paused for a moment to admire his suit—one of my own, of course. It draped beautifully on his tall frame. August Du Bose, one helluva handsome fox. We’d torn it up a time or two back in the day. August was my introduction to the scene when I “relocated” from New York to Charleston. One helluva lover, too, although now we were hands-off, friends only. I wrapped my arms around him, thumping him on the back with the polished grip of my cane. “Dapper as usual, my friend.” “Well, I can’t fault the threads, Franklin.” He pulled back and indicated his table. “I ordered for you.” Franklin. Hmph. August knew he was the only one who could get away with calling me that. Always smooth and polished on the outside, my foppish friend was a rough-riding fag on the inside just like me. He knew how to get his fists dirty, too, when push came to shove. I waited for him to sit before I took my chair. He wasn’t the only one with manners, and I knew my Augie appreciated that shit. Laying my cigar case on the table, I glanced at the waiting iced wine bucket. Impeccable choice, as always. Muscade de Sevre et Maine. “And mussels?” I asked. August winked at me. “On the way.” “You know me too well, my friend.” “Ain’t that the damn truth?” His deep chuckle still made me shiver. “What’s the what, eh? Lookin’ for a little noontime nookie?” His laugh rumbled even more. “Oh, honey. I think we both know that ship has sailed. Besides, I’ve got my sights set on someone else.” I took a sip of my wine and leaned back in my seat. “Prince Harry again?” “Ha!” August swept both hands through his silvery hair. “Mmm hmm, all that British beefcake—” “To corrupt.” “Or at the very least dress.” August clinked his glass to mine. “Think I’d rather work on the undressing part with the little prince. Got me a thing about redheads.” “Hell, you’ve got a thing about guys with cocks.” I tapped my cane on the flagstones in assent while someone at the next table tutted August’s use of the word “cock” apparently. They better watch it, I wasn’t the Italian tailor for nuthin’. There were many uses for pinking shears. August rolled his eyes. “Anyone would think we’re the only two flamers in Charleston.” He threw his voice extra loud. “Hey, I take offense to that. I’m not a fairy. I’m a big buff Eye-talian queer. Speak for yourself.” I lit up, and blew the copious cigar fumes toward the table beside us. That’d shut ’em up. “This reminds me of the old days.” August propped his elbows on the table. “What? Like last year?” His grin widened. “Yessir. Remember that piece of shit we had to take care of?” “Who? That goon bothering Shay?” “Shepperd Slaughter. Yeah.” “Had to go a little slaughterhouse on him.” My laugh was menacing. “Good thing we let Reardon fire him first, huh? Hey now, show me a picture of that new little lady of theirs.” August had a full set of photos in his wallet. Proud as a parent himself. “Shit, man. She’s precious. Looks just like her momma, huh?” I traced the tiny little rosebud face with my fingertip. “What’s her name?” “Lily Alexandra.” He flipped his wallet closed, beaming. “You still got a thing for Reardon?” “Oh, Franklin. That man is fiiiiine. Damn. Shay loves me though, she still lets me drool over him as long as I keep feeding her fashion advice.” He leaned back and crossed one leg at the knee. I admired the perfect cuffs on his trousers. “What about you? What’s this I heard about a wedding party? And you didn’t invite me? I love the nuptials as much as the next flamer.” With that final flamer comment, the table next to us cleared out. Good. Wouldn’t have to hurt them later. I blew cigar smoke after them. “Josh Stone. Mama mia.” I kissed the tips of my fingers. “That man is hung and hunky and has stud written all over him.” “Well, I think I might need to go get my tires looked at.” “Don’t get any funny ideas. My big beefy mechanic didn’t even want to take a ride on the Italian sausage.” “My oh my, that must be a first for you. Of course, he is straight.” August smoothed out the creases in his trousers. “As straight as your guy,” I muttered. “Both successful.” “All about the family.” “And fuckhot.” “And fuckhot, ain’t that the truth.” August sighed as the waitress arrived with two steaming platters of mussels and a basket of baguettes. “Not to mention they’re practically neighbors in the Old Village.” “And married,” I repeated. I dipped a mussel into the garlic and wine sauce and slid it into my mouth. Fuckin’ Nirvana. Not the Kurt Cobain kind. “And married. It’s a damn crime, Franklin.” “I’ll tell ya what a crime is. That friggin’ Nicky Love fan group.” I peered thoughtfully at my old friend. “August, you’d probably have put your own eyes out at the sight. I had no choice but to fix that shit up free of charge. Fuggin’ A.” August snickered then dropped his bread onto his plate. His mouth also dropped open. “What’s got your attention all of a sudden? Am I missing a prime piece of man meat?” I asked. “The finest.” August picked up his Panama hat and fanned himself with it. I had to see this. Casually slipping around in my seat--riiiight—I glanced behind me. Then my mouth joined August’s on the table. Black hair, stunning blue eyes, clean-shaved, handsome face, bright smile, and fucking laughlines. Then there was the Adonis body. “Is that?” “Oh yes. Reardon Dade Boone.” Augie flapped his hat in my direction, and I snatched it from him. “I see what you’re—oh holy shit.” My cane clattered to the flagstones. “Praise the good Lord above. Who is that?” “Josh motherfuggin’-A Stone.” In the flesh. The big, rugged, rough, sexy flesh . . . standing right behind Reardon at the hostess podium. “You didn’t tell me he looks like that,” August exclaimed. “You’ve been holding out yourself.” “I think I’m gonna go slash my tires now,” August mumbled, half-rising from the table. “I wonder how fast I can get your Mr. Boone in my fitting room. M’I right?” LOVE ON AMAZON STONE ON AMAZON RIDE ON AMAZON That’s right! You fell in love with bad boy/sweet DILF Josh Stone in Carolina Bad Boys #1 . . . now it’s time to get down and dirty with Mr. Nicky Love! * ~ * BOOK SALE * ~ *To celebrate the release of Love, In The Fast Lane, Stone is on sale for 99 cents through December 16th! Aaaand—even better—if you hop on Love today, you also get it for 99 cents! As a bonus, the full, New Adult novella RIDE (Jase and Avery’s story) is also 99 cents, and due out January 8th! BOOM! LOVE ON AMAZON STONE ON AMAZON RIDE ON AMAZON Both Stone and Love are Kindle bestsellers!! *fist bump* Rie Warren gives readers a bad boy bachelor and a tattooed vixen in this hot new release from her steamy southern series. New York Times bestselling paranormal author, Nicky--Nick—Love is anything but successful in love. For years he’s lost himself in his writing career, but now he’s ready to get back to his rebel-boy roots. While restoring a motorcycle at Stone’s Auto Service, he meets the Wildcat of his dreams. She’s a shock to the system for the romance writer who doesn’t remember a damn thing about wooing a woman.
Cool-as-ice, Catarina “Wildcat” Steele is utterly untouchable until Nicky ignites a spark she can’t control. Their electric attraction explodes as Nicky pursues her, but he comes bearing the baggage of a family tragedy he’s hidden from everyone. He knows love has no guarantees. Their passionate romance falls apart when Nicky discovers Cat’s secret rivals his own. The truth about her past reopens Nicky’s raw wounds and awakens a ghost he never laid to rest. He doesn’t know how to have Cat, and now he can’t trust her. Will they be torn apart . . . or tamed by love? LOVE ON AMAZON STONE ON AMAZON RIDE ON AMAZON Happy holidays, and may the Carolina Bad Boys keep you warm! What’s this? You heard correctly. From now until December 12th Love,
In The Fast Lane (Carolina Bad Boys #2) will be 99 cents. That’s $3.99 99 CENTS!! Get it while it’s hot! AMAZON Continue reading Yes, it’s true! I wrote the full novella, Ride, from within Stone, At Your Service, Carolina Bad Boys #1. Jase and Avery will be coming at you live on January 8, 2015! Preorder link below. The good girl college student has no choice but to shack up with the bad boy biker. Roommates is one thing. Lovers? Never. That’s what she said, anyway. The full, sexy, New Adult version of RIDE, the novella featured in Stone, At Your Service, Carolina Bad Boys series.
College man Jase Everly has bad boy written all over him. Rides a motorcycle? Check. Has tats? You bet. Couldn’t give a shit about rules? He’s all over that. When he’s cut off from the oil baron family funds, he finds a new way to support his education, his bike habit, his bad habits. And his business venture is nothing he’s proud of. Top-notch student Avery Greene is a good girl. Deans List, never missed a class, straitlaced material. She’s on the college fast track until one night and one jock destroy her life. She hides inside her sweaters. She buries her nose in her books. She ignores the pain inside her, and she’s sure she hates Jase from the moment she lays eyes on him. The problem is—Avery needs someplace to stay, and Jase wants a roommate. They’re enemies at first sight. Now they’re going to live together. Roomies? Maybe. Romance? Never. That’s what she said. Available for Amazon Preorder Add RIDE to your Goodreads shelf What happens when faaaaabulous Jules Gem—the LitLuv convention mouthpiece (bullhorn, bulldog . . . )—gets a crack at our favorite Carolina Bad Boys? Oh, and she seems to be hiding a few luscious secrets of her own. Read on for the final Stone, At Your Service bonus scene, and be sure to tune in tomorrow for a special Halloween preview of book #2, Love, In the Fast Lane. There might even be a giveaway on my Facebook page to coincide tomorrow. Jules Gem Takes a Bite out of the BoysStone was arrogant, cocky, and somewhat bashful. A deeeelicious combo. He’d intrigued me from the first moment I laid eyes on him at the LitLuv convention. During the Guys with Balls competition, I was at the end of my rope. Amateurs, the lot of those men. Even the professionals. Then there was Stone. He’d generated more than just my interest—not that I was interested in him like that. But for someone who claimed to be gay, there was something going on between him and our illustrious Miss Leelee Songchild.
I’d intended to find out what. I hadn’t had to wait all that long for Stone to be un-outted. No surprise there. But imagine my surprise when I discovered he lived in Mt. Pleasant, South Carolina, just a stone’s throw away from my beach rental on Isle of Palms. I absolutely had to follow up with him once the convention ended. And I had an ulterior motive. With my salon-streaked hair fluffed out and my Lancôme lipgloss in place, I pranced into Stone’s Auto Service for the second time that summer. Stone still owed me another favor, and I meant to collect. The men—his mechanics—fell over themselves to help me, then blinked in surprise when I explained Stone was expecting me. The largest of the bunch—Gerald was his name—came forward with a broad smile. “Yes, ma’am. Right this way.” “It’s Miss.” I coolly replied. I did so enjoy getting under the skin of these massive, rugged men. A few masculine chuckles followed my clarification. “Rightio, Miss Gem.” Gerald had flushed beneath his dark brown skin, but he continued to grin at me. Mick stepped up beside him. “I’ll take her.” Hmmm. I laid one hand on his strong chest when he approached me. “I believe Gerald will do just fine. What was your name again? Mike? Michael?” “Mick.” He growled, his gorgeous spring green eyes flashing. I knew damn well who he was. He knew I knew it, too. I also knew why he wanted to get me alone. And that just didn’t fit into my crafty plan for him . . . yet. I placed my arm in the crook of Gerald’s proffered elbow, and off I glided, away from a furious-looking Mick. What fun he was going to be. I’d dressed with every ounce of care for this precious meeting. On the way to Stone’s office, I perfected my slightly prima donna, slightly power hungry persona. The Jules who usually only came out to play at the romance writers convention I helped organize every spring. Stone and Nicky Love were waiting for me in the hideous office with the stained blue carpet. The smell of car oil swilled in the air instead perfume or cologne. They looked absolutely petrified, sitting next to each other on the small, equally distasteful sofa. I dismissed Gerald and closed the door as he retreated to the hallway. “Well.” I sauntered inside and arranged myself behind Stone’s meticulous desk. “This is going to be sooooo much fun.” I gave an excited quiver for my captive crowd. The pair of them looked like they were going to be sick. I pulled out a miniature recording device. Clicking it on, I thought about which question to ask first. What handsome men they were. Big men, fidgeting in fear, in front of me. Stone with his huge build and his bedroom eyes, Nicky Love with his fit body and fabulous hair. They had agreed to do this interview under duress, of course. But what Jules Gem wants, Jules Gem gets. And they were far too entertaining to pass up. Fully centered in my Jules character, I aimed a slightly sharkish grin at them. “So, boys, would you ever consider putting on a little sex show for the ladies? I’m sure Leelee would just love to see that. And if not her, well, I certainly wouldn’t object.” To objectifying you. I laughed to myself. “What?” Stone’s voice spiked. His eyebrows did, too. I loved terrorizing him. He was six years older than me, yet I could get him to squirm in his seat like a naughty schoolboy. Hmmm. “Absolutely not.” Nicky was appalled. Excellent. Whereas sexy Stone wore his heart on his sleeve and on his face, Nicky Love was a much harder read. Equally handsome, but much more adept at hiding his true feelings in any given situation. It would be fun to break through his delicious shell. “I don’t see why you’re sooooo adamantly against it. You did kiss at the convention, in front of everyone. Clearly you have exhibitionist homosexual tendencies.” I almost laughed out loud when Stone’s jaw dropped open. He slammed it shut. He gaped again. “But that was . . . that was . . .” “Soooo hoooooot.” I gave them a shiver of delight, then watched them both shudder in distaste. “I was going to say fucking weird.” Stone glared at me. “Amen to that, bro.” Nicky’s very otherworldly violet eyes took on a hard cast. “Oh, but I beg to differ.” Folding my hands on top of the desk, I leaned forward. “It was surely one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. And you know how we ladies like our male-male romance. Not even a little repeat?” Stone peered at Nicky. Nicky stared back. I clapped my hands. “Not a fucking chance.” Stone winked at me. “Ditto.” Nicky eased slightly away from his friend. I pouted. Then batted my eyelashes. They didn’t make a move toward one another. Maybe I should’ve brought my bullhorn with me. Stone could never refuse me when I used that. The silence thickened until Nicky nervously laughed. “Besides he’s got Leelee and I’ve got my eye on someone.” Bingo! Finally we were getting somewhere. I needed a little juicy gossip for my newest LitLuv magazine article. I pounced all over that. “So the only reason you two won’t explore your gay fantasies is because you might otherwise be taken?” “NO!” they shouted in unison. Methinks the gents doth protest too much. But maybe there was another angle to play. “Who is this lucky lady then?” I directed my question to Nicky. “Not saying.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Bet I know.” His best bud jabbed him in the ribs. “Wonderful, and . . .?” I asked. Nicky punched Stone on the shoulder. Stone frowned, rubbing the rippling muscle. “Can’t say.” “Well then, Nicky, I have no other option than to think you’re lying. I think you really do wish there was something between you and Stone.” I interrogated the man who avoided my shrewd gaze. “Tell me what you felt when he kissed you. Was there a frisson of excitement? Had you two ever kissed before? Was there tongue action? Because it looked like—” “Catarina Steele, okay?” he blurted. Horror showed on his face. “Catarina Steele. Perfect.” I’d be looking her up soon. “How does she do that?” Muttering to Stone, Nicky glanced at me. “Voodoo.” “Witchcraft.” “Hexes.” “Hey, at least she’s not one of our exes.” Nicky smirked. “Word.” They fist bumped each other. “Will you both be returning next year? Because I have serious plans in store for you, Stone, and you, Mr. Love, put the RAWR in Romance.” I dragged them away from their self-congratulations. “Um,” Stone mumbled. “Erm.” Nicky winced. He pulled the leather tie out of his wavy hair and raked his fingers through it. “Yeah. I think so.” “Oh, is there a problem I should know about that would prevent your attendance?” This private man was just full of surprises. “Problems? No. None at all.” “Stalker fan chick on the crazy train,” Stone oh so helpfully supplied. “Reaaallly? Goes by the name of . . .?” I asked. “Nothing. Nobody. Forget it. And you”—he pointed at Stone—“shut it.” Wonderful. I did so love unraveling a good mystery. “Well, it’s been absolutely divine chatting with you two. I simply can’t wait until we catch up next time.” Clicking off my recording device, I pushed the chair back from the desk. The men slumped in relief. Poor boys. “Oh! I nearly forgot. One last thing.” They jerked to attention. Purrrfect.“That man—Mick—who works here? He should still be out in one of the bays, yes?” “What? Why do want to see him?” Stone had suspicion written all over his face. “Oh, no reason. No reason at all.” I assumed an air of innocence. “He took care of my Jeep last time I came in. There’s something I want him to check out.” I smiled at Stone. “Besides, I am sooooo enjoying getting to know your mechanics. So manly, so delightfully gauche.” “What the fuck does gauche mean?” he asked Nicky. “I’ll explain it later,” Nicky muttered. They both rose to their feet as I strode from behind the desk. “I can’t wait to see how this article pans out. Fans are waiting to hear more about you, you know? And we don’t just LitLuv it, we live it.” “Yeah, right. Uh huh.” Stone shook my hand and opened the door. And now for Mick. Not only was I the Perez Hilton of the romance conference circuit, I was also a journalist for the local Post and Courier. That’s why I’d recognized Mick the first time I came here. I knew him as Michael. Michael Cain. Yes, really. Of course that could be entirely fake, since he didn’t want his friends and fellow mechanics finding out about his moonlighting gig. My name certainly wasn’t Jules Gem, and I didn’t act like a bossy pit bull in girl’s clothing during my normal daily life. Well, not all the time. I found him inside one of the sweltering bays. My gaze narrowed on him. In one word, he was hot. Two words? Smoking hot. Sexy as hell. He had too shaggy, shiny, dark auburn hair that fell in his eyes. His skin was so fair I wondered if he ever went to the beach. I’d like to see that, more than a Stone/Love do-over kiss. Mick’s lips were bright red, juicy-looking. Grease stains ran up his strong forearms and down one side of his slanting cheekbones. He wore the coveralls like a man accustomed to dirty work, draped at his waist, a white tank top underneath. An ornate, colorful tattoo peeked out from the cloth at the top of his chest. Then there were the two heavy bore, black plugs in his ears. Absolutely utterly totally fuckable. Four words. In his other job, he spiffed up nicely, usually showing up in clean khakis and button-down shirts. They didn’t do a damn thing to disguise the edgy beautiful man inside. I couldn’t decide which look I liked better. I might have to explore them both. When he caught sight of me watching him, he loped over. “Juliana!” Mmm, I loved the way he said my name. Or rather, hissed it. Grabbing my wrist, he hauled me out back. The sun glinted off his hair, intensifying the deep red. He kept hold of my wrist and dragged me close. “Don’t tell anyone, okay?” I brushed his full lower lip with the pad of my thumb then caressed the rough stubble on his jaw. “Shit.” Mick expelled in a long breath. “That feels—” The talking stopped when I pressed against him. His hard planes pushed against my softer curves. That time he groaned. That time, his hand left my wrist to tangle in my hair. The perfect mossy green of his irises darkened. “I don’t want anyone to know.” “I gathered.” I blew a gentle stream of air against the warm hollow of his throat. One uneven exhale riffled the top of the artful blow-out my stylist took such pride in. “You are making me insane.” I wriggled from his embrace. “I gathered.” Mick, Michael Cain, etc., whoever, had a nice little secret he didn’t want to get out. We were on the same circuit for the Post and Courier. My burly, dirty, tasty mechanic was also a wedding photographer—and quite sought after, too. His sideline didn’t jive with his macho meathead reputation. My inner personality—the one no one saw—didn’t really go with the Jules Gem most people knew, either. We had more than one thing in common, and so much chemistry the air blazed between us every time we met. Mick wouldn’t act on it, and I . . . I wasn’t often as ballsy as everyone thought. “You’re going to owe me for keeping it under wraps, Mick.” “Yeah?” He prowled to me, backing me against the wall, caging me with his arms. “And one day you’re gonna owe me because I’m gonna fuck you the way you want to be, Juliana. Hard and rough, then slow and hot, all night long. Just as soon as you drop this Jules Gem act and finally admit how much you want me.” ______________________________________________ STONE: Amazon LOVE:Preorder now! Coming December 11, 2014. AmazonGoodreads So, I did the unthinkable. The unimaginable! When I revised Sugar Daddy for the new release….I cut a couple sex scenes? I know. What? Me? Who are these aliens who have taken over my libido, I mean my body. Surely not. Hell no. It cannot be! It is so ;). Fear not! Here’s the cut. Enjoy. ***This scene comes with a super sexy warning. Remember in Chapter 16 when they’re night shrimping? The part you didn’t see. Warm ocean, Reardon naked in the waves, Shay, girl! What you waiting for?*** ~~ll~~ “We didn’t bring—” He pulled out two huge fluffy towels. “I was gonna say bathing suits.” “Even better.” His smile was wolfish. The tide turned, racing spiritedly toward shore only to break in gentle wavelets. We headed back to the water, hand in hand. The creek grasses and old wooden trolley bridge glowed moonlight white, setting off a romantic scene. We crossed the shallows to a sandbar, sooty-soft underfoot and hoarding the warmth from the earlier sun. Dropping his shorts at the last minute, he dashed into the inlet’s lazy ripples. “C’mon, darlin’, it’s warm.” When he rose from the water, I took back my earlier thought. There was nothing finer than Reardon, in the moonlight, wet and inviting. “That a challenge?” I called. “Damn right.” Undressing, I took my time all the way to the scraps of my bra and the nothingness of my panties. Every article of clothing discarded found him a few steps closer to shore until he ran at me, catching me in his arms. His kiss smothered my false cries of outrage as he raced back into the water. “Mmm,” he hummed when my nipples floated bright and obvious through transparent fabric. His fingertips pinched and released, commanding my breath as he drew the buds erect. I released the catch of my bra, baring my breasts to the pulls of his mouth. The ends of my hair spread by the current, my pussy wet by more than water. Hot and hard, his length found me where my body boiled over. I eased my hands between us, inching his briefs over his glorious erection until the waistband snugged beneath his balls. “Here?” “Now.” There was nothing but a lacey string to pull aside and my fingers to guide him inside and oh, the feel of him filling me. Blazing on the outside, steely on the inside, his cock stretched me. Cool water eddied around us, licking my body while he lapped all over my breasts. I crossed my ankles at his backside, digging in as his thrusts forced moans from my mouth. Held by Reardon’s hands on my ass, I came. He buried his face between my breasts, his raspy scruff and the thick rush of his release spurring me on until I rose above the waves, a keening mermaid. Clinging to his shoulders against the drifting tide, I kissed him drowsily. ~~ll~~ Um, so. Yes?
I wanted to say thanks for the support, the amazing love and reviews for Sugar Daddy! It’s my first self-pub and as a re-release I was nervous as hell. Y’all surpassed my expectations beyond belief! There’s more to come. I promise I am writing as fast as I can type. SUGAR DADDY: She needs a job. He wants a mistress. Hearts and contracts are bound to get broken. Shay Greer is pure GRITS—a Girl Raised In The South–but nowhere near a demure southern belle. She’s looking for a way out of her broken down marriage when she lands an unexpected job offer she really should refuse. Position? Mistress. Fringe Benefits? Of course. Fraternization with sexy CEO Reardon Boone? Required. Shay signs on, lured by the promise of intimacy missing from her failed marriage. She’s barely survived a hellish year of heartbreak and needs a fresh start. Little does she know a clean break is the last thing she’ll get with the mysterious millionaire. Reardon sticks to his tried and true rules: no-strings-attached seduction, no messy emotions, absolutely nothing resembling a real relationship. This sassy, sultry woman fits the bill precisely…until she arouses more than his erotic appetite. A shark in the boardroom and a lady killer in the bedroom, Reardon is as irresistible as he is unattainable. Shay falls hard, but his inability to love could tear them apart. She finds out that beneath Reardon’s seductive mask lies a man as tortured as she is. New edition, January 2014 SUGAR DADDY ON AMAZON You know where to find me! Links all up there. Like, share, comment, LOVE! Up next? It is the sexy spring of the Don’t Tell series. Cover reveals, short spinoffs, ON HER WATCH is coming at you on June 3rd. xoxo~ |
About Rie WarrenI’m a badass, sassafras, erotic romance writer from Charleston, South Carolina. I write sexy southern bad boys, big alpha men with hearts of gold, and feisty female heroines. Archives
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