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Simply Irresistible Excerpt

November 19, 2013 | Teaser Tuesday



“Looking for this?” A deep voice startled her. She forced herself not to run.

He held up her membership card and strode closer. “You must have dropped it leaving your rig.”

He prowled toward her with the easy grace of a natural predator. She watched his approach with the wariness of cornered prey, hating herself for being constantly scared. She glanced at his dark hair, closely cut and still damp from a shower. Her gaze raked past a noble brow to the aviator shades shielding his eyes. He was everything that scared her and everything she wanted. He offered plenty of other manly scenery. A bladed nose, a luxuriant mustache and full, sensual lips led her to a square chin. She’d never cared much for facial hair on a man, until now. She couldn’t decide if it made him look more dangerous or just hotter. He wasn’t anywhere close to pretty—his features were all hard angles—but he was devastatingly, utterly alpha male.

He ran his hand over the damaged bumper. “I know someone who can pound this out. A little paint, some buffing and you won’t be able tell anything happened. Do you want his number?”

“This is the first time I’ve driven the truck…” Emotion choked her for a couple of seconds. She shook her head in frustration. Stupid to let such a tiny thing upset me. I’m not dead or injured. Bumpers cam be repaired or replaced. I’m not letting some rage-aholic ruin the rest of a wonderful evening.

Anxious for him to see her as appealingly compliant rather than a helpless woman, needing him to rescue her, she downplayed the hit and run. “Stupid to be so upset over a fender-bender.”

Objectifying the sex god beside her was a much better option than reliving her close call with the tailgater from hell. He’d crouched to examine her truck, putting his head level with her waist. She still felt dainty in comparison. When he stood she admired more of him. Below his bronze jaw, a strong neck broadened into broad shoulders. A black, open-neck polo shirt covered his wide chest and tucked into the flat waist of pressed khakis secured by a supple black leather belt. His legs were long and strong. The casual slacks covering them broke over a pair of gleaming loafers.

He stood and crossed his arms. A frown made his harsh features more intimidating.

Clearly she failed to respond to whatever he’d said. She’d been so busy gaping, she couldn’t recall a single word.

He moved nearer—much too close for her sanity. Her heart accelerated and her skin tingled. She breathed in a hint of sandalwood, cloves and clean, musky male. His overwhelming presence held her in place. Was she frozen from fear or the desire to surrender to his rough mercy?

He stopped. His chest almost touched her breasts. He slid the shades down, peering at her over the top of the tinted lens. Eyes darker than a moonless midnight sky met hers. Power shimmered from him like a force field.
Tiana hadn’t seen him at the club before, but he defined Master.

“Thanks.” She held out her hand for her security card.

He traced the diagonal mark where the safety strap had marred her bare shoulder and the tender swell of her upper breast.

His touch caused an ache entirely separate from the soreness of her bruises. His gaze followed his knuckles, burning right through her skin, seeing far more than she was ready to expose.

Her reaction to this stranger shook her fragile faith in her own judgment. She straightened her spine. The extra quarter inch she gained made her at least five-eight without the adorable blue sandals. The heels brought her eyelevel with his jaw. She lifted her chin. Strength comes in smaller packages too, big guy.
The blend of his subtle aftershave or cologne and his own healthy male scent flirted with her nose, intoxicating her and accessing some interior hormone factory. A yearning for him to correct her defiance and take control flooded through her.

She was hyperaware of his proximity, her freshly waxed pussy, the constriction of her corset and tiny thong beneath her light sundress and her heart rate accelerated. Her tongue seemed glued to the roof of her mouth. She focused on a tuft of black chest hair visible in the open vee of his shirt. She lowered her gaze only to lock on well-defined biceps and brawny forearms. His nearness held her as rapt as a star-struck teen in the presence of her idol.

When his blunt-tipped fingers didn’t release the plastic card a spark of daring made her tug on the edge.
He held tight.

She pursed her lips. “Give me my card.”

“Did Master Lewis fail to teach you how to speak to a Master?”

“No Sir.” Her defiance wilted under his disapproval. Of course he knew Master Lewis and would probably report her lack of respect. She could look forward to some diabolically creative punishment. Awesome.

“Please give it to me, Sir.” She tugged again, trying to retrieve the small rectangle. Their fingers met. A frisson skittered along her synapses from the point where they touched. She wavered on her fragile heels as a wave of potent sensual awareness engulfed her.

He steadied her with a broad palm on her hip.

She stilled, staying as mum as a turnip.

He gently lifted her chin, tacitly encouraging her to meet his gaze. “Are you okay?”

His hand was warm and calloused, making her wonder what this powerful man did when he wasn’t overwhelming innocent women. The kindly crinkles at the corners of his eyes bolstered her courage. “I’m fine. Please let go of me, Sir.”

“You’re very beautiful and very new.” He didn’t release her.

She dropped her eyes again and nodded. Too late she realized the dip of her head made it seem as if she agreed with his ridiculous compliment. Her cheeks heated.

“You must be new to the lifestyle as well to blush so prettily.”

The warmth from his hand left her face, leaving her slightly chilled. Heat flooded back as he brushed his knuckles along the side of her neck, across her shoulder and skimmed down her arm.

She wasn’t all that new, but she didn’t trust herself to manage a coherent explanation. There was nothing overtly sexual in his barely there caress, yet he’d captured her completely. Her nipples ripened into hard berries of need and shocking cream dampened her bare pussy.

“You may call me Sir, or Master if you prefer. And your name is?”

There was no reason not to tell him her name. He could learn it easily enough by asking Master Lewis or Master Guthrie. This weekend she was moving to Sterling Falls with a population 3,627, so it wasn’t likely she would run into him outside the Crucible. “Tiana, Sir.”

“A beautiful name for a lovely submissive. You aren’t going anywhere in a hurry. Not while I’m enjoying holding you. You’re going make someone a sweet slave.”

Posted by Evanne @ 4:00 am  

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