Evanne Lorraine
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Teaser Tuesday

December 30, 2008 | Teaser Tuesday

Just in case you missed the news, I sold the first book in the dangerous series last year. While each title can be read as a stand alone, they are even better read in order. Starting with Dangerous Surrender.

As a little incentive here’s an excerpt from the story that started it all.

If her tongue hadn’t been glued to the roof of her mouth Ciara would’ve told him something. She wasn’t quite sure what. Either, take a flying leap, or take me. The second option sounded undeniably good. Her lips parted and small shallow breaths escaped, but no words formed. He stood so close she couldn’t think clearly and her intention to explain about the research for a story evaporated like advertising revenue in a recession.

He studied her as if she had the winning lottery numbers etched inside her pupils. “Tell me what you want.”

Apparently, small talk was over already. Some inner vixen must’ve possessed her, because she heard herself asking him, “What do you do?”

She licked lips gone suddenly dry.

“Everything, except kiss on the mouth.” He sounded sullen.

“You’re kidding, right?” She hoped he was joking. She wanted kisses.

He grinned. So he’d been teasing. Was that the same as flirting? Was he serious? How far would he go? He was on duty, right?

“Yeah, I do everything.”

She loved his matter of fact tone, as if nothing shocked him. Her pulse leapt into aerobic range. “Great,” she squeaked, her nerves skittering with anticipation.

He appeared disappointed. Did she sound too eager? What was the correct protocol when hiring a man for pleasure? If she ran over the minimum, then what? Was it strictly cash, did he expect a tip? She only had a twenty left.

Then a nasty thought hit. Was this whole thing a setup to bust her for solicitation?

Dad would understand. Heck, he’d probably applaud, thinking it showed grit, or something. But what about Aunt Maureen and her Junior League friends? What about Regan?

What about January? After all, she’d gone out of her way to sponsor her. And now she was about to get herself arrested, embarrassing everyone who had ever cared about her.

A quick replay of the conversation they’d just had confirmed her fears. She’d watched plenty of cop shows. They always made the John, or in this case Jane, commit herself first by asking for a particular sexual act and offering money.

“What’s the matter?” Zach watched her with that same odd intensity. He was probably worried that she was going to resist arrest.

She risked another peek from under her lashes. He’d insisted on getting paid first. That supported her prostitution bust theory.

“Are you going to cuff me?” she whispered, fear making her voice small.

He leaned closer, resting one arm on the doorjamb next to her. Something flickered across his face, but when he spoke, it was in a sexy drawl. “Is that what you want?”

“Certainly not.” She frowned at him. She needed information and he was still flirting. She asked him plainly. “Are you going to arrest me?”

He straightened and crossed his arms over his impressive chest. “For what?”

“Hiring you for sex.” She was breathing too fast and her words ran together, sounding too much like panic.

“Who is asking the question, the reporter or the woman?” His drawl got a little crispy.

“Who is answering, the cop, or the man?” Still too breathy, but better.

“Let’s leave the jobs outside that door.”

For a second there he’d sounded cynical. But he smoldered well and smelled wonderful. His clothes might be from disco nights, but the body underneath was prime beefcake. She trailed one finger down the front of his shirt. A small electric current moved from her finger straight into her feminine core. She let her gaze follow her caress and saw the muscles under her touch ripple in an enticing display.

They still stood by the door. The room offered the usual amenities. The furnishings were mid-level hotel grade. The plants were real, lush, and a bit incongruous with the urethane finished nightstands and economy carpeting. But, at least, the room didn’t smell funny.

A king-size bed dominated the space. How did she get him into it?

Did she want that?

She wanted him, but the only good sex she’d experienced had been solo flights. Did she really want to complicate her life on the slim chance things might be different this time?

Yes. Make that, hell yes.

Maybe the Cosmopolitans she’d had earlier had fueled her optimism, or maybe she’d developed courage since she’d met him. She only knew that she’d hate herself if she didn’t grab this chance to walk on the wild side. Zach, strangely, made her feel safe and daring at the same time. Her precarious situation combined with erotic anticipation, whipping her into a froth of nervous lust.

If she tried to talk, she’d stutter and any possibility of this being a totally hot encounter of the closest kind would go right out the window. She kept quiet, letting her fingers do the talking.

Absorbed in the feel of him, she traced a line across his chest to a flat, dark nipple. She blazed the same trail with kisses, allowing her touch to drift lower, past the open neckline of his shirt. Pausing at the waistband of his pants, she lessened the pressure. Her nail barely grazed the erection straining the front of his slacks. She heard his ragged intake of breath. Sweet tension coiled deep inside her belly, winding her another notch tighter.

Posted by Evanne @ 6:00 am  

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