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Excerpts From: BY HONOR BOUND

 

An Excerpt From: HIS SISTER’S KISS

© Copyright KATE HILL, 2004.

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave, Inc.

 

Angela rubbed her hands together to warm them. “I think I’ll build a fire.”

“I’ll do it.” He headed for the living room. “Might as well make myself useful.”

Oh, he was going to be useful all right, Angela smiled.

Her head spun as she stepped into the kitchen to prepare tea. Just when she thought her life would settle down, something completely unexpected had to happen. Her attraction to Abe was so powerful that she couldn’t help feeling the elation of new love, yet part of her feared the future. What if she did fall madly in love with him and, like Jim, he left her far too soon? Yet, that was the risk everyone took. Life had no guarantees. She knew that well enough.

She jumped as arms encircled her from behind and Abe’s stubbled face and warm lips nuzzled her neck. He moved so quietly for such a large man.

“Don’t think this is a common thing for me,” she said, trying to keep coherent thoughts as he kissed her neck and hugged her close to his powerful frame. Her eyes half closed, she reached up and stroked his face. “I don’t usually act like this with men I just met.”

“I know.”

“How do you know?”

“Just a feeling. Sometimes that’s all you have to go with.”

She turned, gazing up at him. His sapphire eyes stared intently into hers. Her hands slid up his arms and across his impossibly broad shoulders. What did he feel like under all those clothes? Was his chest smooth or hairy? Did he have scars? He must. What did his cock look like? Was it big and veined like the ones in dirty magazines her girlfriends had gotten hold of in high school? Was it ruddy or pale? What would it feel like? She couldn’t imagine.

“I won’t lie, Angela,” he said in a hushed voice. “I want to take you to bed.”

“I know.”

“I should go.”

Clasping the back of his neck, she tugged his face closer as she stood on tiptoe and whispered against his lips, “No you shouldn’t.”

 

An Excerpt From: MAJOR PLEASURE

© Copyright DENISE A. AGNEW, 2004.

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave, Inc.

 

Major Blayne Forbes felt like hell. He also had an attitude to match.

As he drove his small blue Ford Focus onto Fort Carson, an army post near Colorado Springs, his head throbbed and his eyes burned with the need for sleep. He had arrived back from his deployment after more than four months sweating, fighting, and almost dying with his fellow soldiers in the desert. Instead of chilling at his apartment with a cold beer, he’d felt wired and compelled to visit the one person who could put things into perspective. Jumping into the car and heading to the military post would cure what ailed him.

He hoped.

After countless hours in a military transport aircraft with less than first class jump seats and then another flight in cramped coach quarters, his patience had worn thin. Rigors of deployment didn’t bother him. Except for this last time. The battle had been hell, the situation gruesome, and the pain extraordinary.

Most of all, the reason why he’d been sent back to Fort Carson instead of fighting with his men irked him no end.

His hands gripped the steering wheel too tight, and his stomach lurched with sudden nausea. Get a grip, Forbes. This isn’t the way a Forbes reacts to adversity. Punch through it. What would Dad think if he could see you now?

Dad wouldn’t think any less of him. His father had never given him anything but respect and support, even when he’d made some decisions in his life that hadn’t rubbed Dad quite the right way. Like joining Special Forces.

An ache rolled through Blayne’s healing body. Maybe Dad had been right all along. Perhaps Special Forces had done more than given him pride and purpose—it had drained his soul and his energy until he had nothing left to offer. Blayne didn’t quite believe Dad in that respect. After all, Dad had met and married Mom. And he knew for a fact his warm, caring mother wouldn’t have married a man who had nothing to give. He always admired his parents’ marriage, even if he didn’t think he’d ever find the right woman for him.

Damn, a cold beer, a warm bed, and a hot woman might help what ails me.

Right now none of these things was an option. Beer would probably make the lingering effects of his illness worse, and he needed to vent more than take a woman to bed.

Talking to his buddy Graham Teagan would put his head on straight and his sight on the goal. He could pretend he needed a few things at the exchange and the commissary, and in reality he did. The refrigerator was empty. Plus, he needed shaving cream.

He pulled into the parking area near the building where Graham worked and got out of his car. Winter intruded on the area this October, and although the day sparkled with brilliant sun, a thick line of snow clouds already drifted over Pikes Peak and threatened a significant snowstorm later in the day.

He stepped out of the car and cold frosted his breath. As he headed toward the renovated offices, his head throbbed harder. He’d pick up a bottle of aspirin, too. Just before he reached the entrance the door swung open and out walked Graham’s sister, Jemma Teagan. He couldn’t repress a grin. Every time he saw her, his gonads did a full stop and double take.

Scratch that.

This time he did more than a double take—his cock stood at full attention. Didn’t matter he felt crappy, the heat poured straight into his loins and demanded attention. Seeing her sweet face, sparkling eyes, and heart-stopping smile did crazy things to him that would cure any illness on the spot. He swallowed and reined the animal reaction into submission with difficulty. It wasn’t like he could march right up to her and say, Let me fuck you until I get it out of my system. In fact, he wouldn’t think of saying anything remotely like this to Jemma.

Not if he wanted to live.

Graham would kill him if he knew erotic thoughts about Jemma bounced through Blayne’s head every time she came within viewing distance. Blayne had wrestled with his attraction to her more than once, and he could bludgeon his physical interest into acquiescence if he tried.

Pfft. Right, asshole.

Who was he kidding? He wanted her under him, on top of him, any way he could get her as long as he could part her thighs and slide deep inside her wet, tight heat. At the same time, he knew he couldn’t screw her without becoming a little too interested in more than her body. She was his best friend’s little sister and a damn fine woman.

That was half the problem. The last thing in the world he would do is hurt her. Plus, Graham was extremely protective of his baby sister, almost too protective as far as Blayne could tell. Blayne couldn’t afford to become involved with a woman who let her family dictate her social life.

So he shoved aside thoughts of making it with her, regardless of how much his body craved her.

Think of the battlefield. That should do the trick.

When she turned and caught his gaze, her brilliant grin wiped thoughts of death and destruction straight out of his head and launched him into full-on, raw sexual need. Battle often left a residue, a powerful need to connect, that he sometimes satiated with a willing woman. He’d never given into sexual need with Jemma, but right now it sounded damn good. She looked so fuckin’ cute.

Sun caught the red highlights in her straight, waist-length light auburn hair. She stood in the doorway dressed for winter with a black beret hat and long black wool coat. He wanted to call out a greeting. Instead he felt a wave of dizziness.

Hell, this isn’t good at all.

Jemma saw the big man walking toward her with confident strides. Her heart leapt in surprise and happiness, then thundered with excitement.

She couldn’t restrain how her breath quickened and her body hummed whenever she saw him. It didn’t matter that months of separation parted them, or that he traveled the world keeping freedom, hope, and democracy intact. No, she responded to him with unadulterated pleasure and a full-on lust she couldn’t control.

 

An Excerpt From: CHARMING ANNIE

© Copyright ARIANNA HART, 2004.

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave, Inc.

 

“Stop!”

“Did you find something?” Mace gripped her hands tightly.

“No, but my shirt is caught on the vent and it’s wrapping around my neck. If I don’t loosen it I’ll choke before I land.”

“Can you rip it?”

“With what? You have both my arms. If you unbutton it I can slip out of it and put it back on when you come down.”

“Okay, hold onto the edge, I’ll try to do this as quickly as possible so you don’t fall.” Mace let go of one hand, and she had to quickly grab onto the edge of the vent.

“I can’t see a freaking thing!” Mace’s fingers fumbled around her face, then drifted lower to brush against her breast.

He quickly shifted until he found the buttons that fastened the shirt. The knuckles of his fingers brushed her breasts again, making her nipples tighten painfully. Annie was surprised her blush didn’t light up the room.

“Why do they make these things so damn small?” Mace growled, still fumbling with the button.

Annie heard a grunt, then the ping of a button popping off her shirt. Suddenly she was free and started to slide.

“Let go! I don’t want to drag you down!” Her grip on the side was slipping. She felt Mace let go, and slid right out of her shirt.

She vaguely heard a tearing sound as she jumped back and fell onto the floor. Her hand landed on something wet that smelled like bleach, and a bottle hit her on the head.

“Are you okay?” Mace whispered from above her.

“Yes. I wasn’t that far off the ground. Not the most graceful landing though.”

“Any landing you walk away from is a good landing.” The smile in Mace’s voice was clear.

“Let me find the door and I’ll take a peek out.”

“No! Wait for me to come down,” he hissed.

Annie felt her way around the closet like a blind person, totally disoriented until she felt molding around the door. Running her hands up and down, she found the handle and opened it the merest fraction of an inch.

The hallway was deserted, and the stairway had some sort of device on it with wires and a timer. That couldn’t be good.

“It’s okay. We’re alone down here, and I think we will be.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because there’s a bomb on the door next to us.”

 

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