UPDATE: The three winners are…Galina Sulaiman, Jen B., and Pansy Petal!

* * * * *

I am at my desk today. No babysitting. How did that miracle happen? The 7-year-old didn’t need 3-4 days of recovering in the hospital! The doctor sent her home the next day. He told her he’d had football players who’d undergone the same surgery and they hadn’t been able to stick the pain like she could. They were “weenies” compared to her. So, she’s home, ensconced in her “infirmary” (the living room). Her poor mom is exhausted, and I will spell her, but not until after I get one bit of work completed first! So, the cancer-filled tibia is gone. Completely. We hope that took care of the issue, but she will be checked for recurrences of her cancer pretty much for the rest of her life.

In the meantime, I have a brand new naughty stepbrother story out! I had so much fun writing it. My heroine’s a phone sex operator whose SEAL brother catches her “on the job”. Let’s just say, he’s not pleased… 🙂 Don’t have your copy? It’s only $0.99! And KU subscribers can pick it up for FREE!

Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His SEAL Team

When Sara’s stepbrother surprises her with an early return from
a mission, he brings two of his Navy SEAL teammates along…

Get your copy!

Contest

Three winners will choose one of my previous Stepbrothers Stepping Out stories! All you have to do to enter is answer me this…

If you had all the money in the world, where would you be right now?
And what would you be doing?

You can win one of these stories…

CONTEST UPDATE: The winner of the free download of Conquests is… DebraG!

UPDATE: Such a strange week. Some of you had asked for updates. So, quickly, this is what’s happening with the 7-year-old. This week’s tests ruled out cancer anywhere else in her body but her tibia. Yay! Feels so weird to be happy that she only has cancer in one spot. And they’ve set her surgery date for Thursday. She’s undergoing a brand new procedure and will be in a cast until after Christmas. We’ve been going crazy trying to think of all the things that have to be done—get a ramp, wheelchair, move her bed to the living room… The lists go on and on. I’ll keep you posted.

*~*~*

From Delilah’s “How to Train Your Skjaldmaer”

So, time for some fun!

Are you taking any trips this summer? Going to the beach? The lake? Going someplace cold to escape the heat? Comment for a chance to win a free download of Conquests: An Anthology Of Smoldering Viking Romance!

Conquests

Vikings. Fierce warriors who terrified all in their path as they raided and marauded, enslaved and murdered during Europe’s Dark Ages.

But these rough men from a rugged land were also sailors, explorers, craftsmen, and highly sought after mercenaries.

Conquests: An Anthology of Smoldering Viking Romance will transport you to the realm of fantasy where such fearsome and loyal men are relentless potent lovers. Whether the lady of the keep demands a few stolen hours of pleasure with a captured Viking warrior or the handsome Northman is the one seducing his captive, you will find plenty of lusty adventures in settings as far-flung as Ireland, Iceland, Norway, Byzantium, Moorish Spain and the New World.

Let your fantasies run wild to a time when men wearing bearskin shirts and shining iron helms could capture a fierce maiden’s heart!

Get your copy here! It’s just $0.99 for 13 stories!

Here’s an excerpt from “The Captive” by Lizzie Ashworth…

“Dane, do you know why you were brought here?”

Elspeth, Lady of Hystead, gathered her thick red skirts and sat on the curved stool at the side of the room, opposite the spot where the broad-shouldered man stood. Her hungry gaze drank in the powerful strength of his legs, the ripple of muscle in his chest and arms, the iron line of his jaw. Even wounded, even smeared with the grit and gore of battle, his body glistened with male vigor.

Candlelight reflected off the lime-washed walls and framed the warrior’s furious stare. He strained against the bonds holding his wrists behind him and stretched the short length of rope between his ankles. Animal skins covered the stone-paved floor under his feet, one of few luxuries in the humble room with its bed, bucket of hot coals, and side table.

She turned to the two armed men who’d brought him. “Go now and bar the door until I call.”

An angry string of words followed the men as they departed. Elspeth heard the bar fall into place with a heavy thump.

Pale blue eyes flashed toward her, defiant.

“What of our language do you know, Dane? Can you speak?”

“I know enough,” he snarled, his words heavily accented. “What is your intent, woman?”

“My name is Elspeth, and it pleases me to see you.” His anger excited her, although she tried not to reveal any hint of her swelling desire. She sipped from her cup of ale. “Will you drink?”

His tongue slid over the crease of his narrow lips, but he gave no answer.

“You must be thirsty.” She poured another cup from the ewer and carried it to his mouth, tilting it forward.

He drank deeply. The line of his jaw slackened slightly, and she remained beside him, more intrigued than ever by his bristling strangeness. The grime of battle still coated his face and arms, but elsewhere, his body had been covered with clothing and armor, now mostly removed, so that he stood in rough pants that hung from his hips. Blood smeared from cuts on his arms and hands did not disguise the inked design scrolling over his tanned arms. A section of his yellow-white hair clumped against his scalp in a dried, darkened mass while the rest fell in tangles around his shoulders.

“Are all your kind so beautiful?” she asked quietly, trailing her fingertip across his chest. His nipples lay flat on the domed pectoral muscles and more ink patterned a fantastical beast between them. Hardly a hair curled there, although lower on his abdomen a faint line of darker hair collected downward to disappear at the waist of his pants. Her gaze lingered there briefly as her pulse quickened.

He made no answer, but inhaled as her finger stroked over one of the nipples. His posture shifted slightly.

“Is this beast meant to say something about you?” she asked, fingering the tattoo.

“It honors the gods,” he grumbled.

“Have your gods served you well today?”

He did not answer.

She brought a basin and set it beside him before pouring water warmed near the hot coals. With a linen cloth, she bathed him, wiping the sweat-stained whisker stubble on his face to remove blood and dirt. A strong straight nose traveled from his smooth brow and centered between prominent cheekbones. His firm jaw cut sharply to a bold chin, oddly contrasting the cruelly sensual curve of his narrow lips.

Her breath stuttered as she worked, each freshened part of his body even more stunning than she had first considered. His skin, marred by various scars from previous battles, stretched like warm silk over bronzed muscle. She sponged carefully around a gash on his cheek and another shorter mark on his forehead. Bruising on his jaw had turned purplish-blue, and more bruising colored parts of his chest and back. Nicks and scrapes laced his forearms, and a crusted gash on his bicep caused him to jump when she pushed the wet cloth against it. The scalp wound proved more troublesome. His height forced her to stand on tiptoe to reach it.

“Bend over,” she demanded, pressing his head forward so that the water could soak the matted hair. He made no sound as she cleaned his injuries. At length, she set aside the basin.

“Will you take food?” She cut a piece of the cheese and broke a part of the loaf of wheaten bread.

His gaze had become speculative, watching with an almost bemused expression that softened the strained lines of his face. “Why do you trouble over me, when I am to be killed?”

“Perhaps that isn’t your fate, Dane.”

“Do you have the power to determine my fate?”

“It seems I do, does it not?”

“Things are not always as they seem,” he replied.

But he accepted the stool she pushed behind him and sat to eat the food she fed him, and after a time, with the loaf, cheese, an apple, and considerably more ale consumed, she noted a certain relaxation in his frame.

“You mean to have me,” he observed and raised one eyebrow in question.

“Yes.” She noted the hint of a smile, which pleased her.

“My hands…” He shifted his shoulders to struggle with the bonds holding his wrists.

She laughed lightly, swallowing past the growing tension in her neck. How she would love to release him, let him tear at her, throw her down, and take her to the ends of her reckoning. “Dane, surely you don’t think me foolish enough to release you?”

He smirked. “My name is Magnus, and I don’t think of you at all,” he replied. “I was not aware the Saxons gave over the task of torture to their women.”

Anger swept up her cheeks, and she held her skirts to kick out the stool from under him.

Unsteady, he gained his feet as the stool flew back.

“Torture?” Her face burned. “You see pleasuring me as torture?”

She thought them of equal age. But she was no maid, rather the wife of a doddering old man who couldn’t keep from dribbling on himself when he pissed. On her, alone, lay the full array of tasks necessary to run such a large estate. Even the thanes sworn to her husband’s service knew she ruled Hystead. Many had made suit to her, surreptitiously, for standards required decorum in such matters. In these uncertain times, she could not risk loss of respect for herself or her husband.

Torture. Her nostrils flared as she met his insolent gaze. Her copper-red hair and green eyes received regular comment from the flatterers, and she knew her form remained comely. This man meant to provoke her.

“To what end do you taunt me, Magnus?” she challenged, standing next to him so the swell of her bosom grazed his chest. “Shall I slap you, cause you pain? Would that please you more?”

He laughed, revealing white teeth and creases in his cheeks. “Battle pleases me.”

She ran her hand over his chest, stroking the smooth skin and lingering over the nipples to toy until the flesh thickened. Her own nipples hardened against her bodice as she noted a hitch in his breathing. He may have seemed carved as the finest work of metal, but he was made of mortal flesh. Her hand slid down to the bulge pressing the front of his pants, and a sly smile grew on her mouth.

“Torture becomes you, Magnus,” she said quietly.

Today was supposed to be about a brand new release. Here’s the cover…

My publisher says it’s a glitch, and that the book should be live soon, but we’ll see. In the meantime, I’d love to remind you about all the anthologies I’ve edited that are already available! Click on the covers to learn more about these spicy anthologies! You’ll find great authors, scorching hot, inventive stories—pretty much everything you’d want in a short story collection!

Contest

The next anthology I’ll be putting together is a blue collar themed antho, but I always love hearing what themes you’d love to see next. For a chance to win a free eCopy of Rogues or Conquests, let me know what themes you’d love to see!

A quick reminder before we play! These contests are still open:

SEALs of Summer 3 is here! (Contest–2 Winners!)
Delilah Night: Coming Together (Contest-5 Winners)
Mia Hopkins: Cowboy Player (Contest)

Now, play!

Here’s an excerpt from the book, whose cover you’ve been putting together…

I dreamt of him. My dark warrior.

He pulled me from a deep REM cycle with the force of his summons. Now, standing with my toes sinking into heat, I found myself on a ridge of shifting sand—red as Mars and hot as the fury of his gaze. And I was naked. Again.

Rays from an orange sun beat down on my skin. Wind lifted my hair and brushed it against my nipples. Even knowing he was angry, my stomach tightened, and my breasts grew heavy with desire. His hard, golden-eyed gaze raked my body, pinning me like a rabbit between his namesake’s talons. And yet, I yearned to thread my fingers through his long, dark hair and drag his mouth toward mine. He had taught me to crave the taste of his lips.

“I shouldn’t be dreaming,” I said, breathless with anticipation of what new sensual wonder we would explore.

“Are you?” His deep voice rumbled, and yet his lips didn’t move. He stood as still as a pillar, naked as I was. Aroused.

“I must be. How else am I here with you?” Emboldened by the thought that within my dream I was free to explore my fantasy, I reached to touch his face. He didn’t move as I brushed his sun-warmed skin and feathered a light touch over his high cheekbones and sharply defined nose. My fingers paused at his mouth, and then I swept my thumb over his lower lip and pressed inside. The tip of his tongue stroked my finger, and I gasped, imagining its moist heat teasing the hardening points of my breasts.

His expression didn’t change, and his gaze didn’t leave my face as though gauging my responses. The calculating gleam in his golden eyes gave me a moment’s pause.

“If this is a dream, then why don’t you give me what I seek?” he asked. “What harm would there be?”

My hands fell to his shoulders and I kneaded the muscles there, fascinated by his strength. “If I tell you, you won’t call me back to you.”

“Do you think your password is all I desire from you?” His gaze swept over me, scorching me everywhere it paused—my mouth, my breasts, my belly, the juncture of my thighs.

Heat licked at my loins, and my glance fell to his erection. “No, but surrendering to you would give you power.”

“I would not abuse that power any more than I would abuse the gift of your body.” A strong hand lifted my chin. His steady, hypnotic gaze seemed to pull me closer and made me flush with warmth. “Have I caused you pain? Haven’t I fulfilled your fantasies?”

I ignored his questions, knowing my blush colored my face and breasts. He had taught me to find pleasure centers in my body I’d never known existed. “I’ve watched you, while you sleep in your suspension chamber.” The admission was difficult even knowing this wasn’t real—he wasn’t real. Unable to meet his stare while I confessed my intrusive behavior, my gaze dropped to his broad, bronzed shoulders.

“I wondered if your body is as powerful as it appears.” Hesitantly, I smoothed my palms over his warm, lightly furred chest and felt the muscles beneath my hands spasm. “Am I only dreaming your body is this incredibly hard?”

He wasn’t unaffected. His chest rose and fell more quickly now. I was pleased my touch inflamed him as well.

With my hands, I measured the breadth of his shoulders and followed the thickly corded muscles of his arms downward. “You’ve led me, invoking my responses each time we’ve met, but this is my dream. I would know if everything is as hard as it appears.” I noted his hands clenched at his sides, and I smiled up at him. “Will my touch break your control? You’ve teased me, lured me to the edge, and left me wanting. Can you resist me?”

I spread my hands on the defined ridges spanning his taut, narrow waist. Then I glided downward, curving my fingers to rake the silky arrow of hair that broadened to frame his immense manhood.

As I encircled his cock, his head fell back, and his jaw clenched. Feeling powerful, I stepped closer to press my aching breasts to his chest and slide my tongue along the crest of his shoulder. He smelled of exotic incense and warm, musky man. My hands glided up and down on his smooth, hard cock.

Suddenly, with a movement that left me gasping, his hands closed around my waist and he lifted me high. I was exultant. Now, he would come inside me. Now, I would learn the promises his body had hinted at—if only in my dreams. I clutched his shoulders and wrapped my legs around his waist, and he lowered me, impaling my moist flesh.

I moaned and his mouth curved into a grim smile. His hands shifted to my buttocks—but he held me still, while my vagina dampened in anticipation of a vigorous coupling.

“Why won’t you move?” My body ached for fulfillment, and I tightened my inner muscles around him.

“Your password.” He clenched his teeth. “Give me what I want, and I will finish this.”

The request jarred. But I was so lost in my flaming need, I ignored the warnings clamoring in my mind. “This is my dream, my mind. I command you to take me.”

His eyes narrowed, and his hands were hard, steel bands anchoring me to his hips. “Do you?” His expression challenged me to prove myself.

I faltered, and a prickle of unease crept up my spine to lift the hairs on the back of my neck. Khalim Padja of the Raptor clan, a Tirrekh warrior and the man embedded in my body, was a murderer and a traitor to the Dominion. But what else might he be? Was he somehow making this dream happen?

He’d been brought aboard my small transport ship, a cargo so precious and dangerous the governor of the outlying fortress had refused to hold him long enough for a military transport to arrive. I’d been promised a fortune to deliver him to the Dominion courts, and I’d assured the governor that Khalim’s suspension chamber would hold him safely.

Before I’d slept in my own chamber for the duration of the month-long journey, I’d inspected his, and checked to be certain the sleep inducements would last. But I’d been unable to resist a thorough inspection of his body as he lay inside.

I was a woman who spent too many months alone aboard my ship in deep space, my imagination my only company. And his body was beautiful. What harm would there be to look and stroke my hands over his still flesh?

And I had, much to my shame.

But this dream was too vivid. Even for the elaborate fantasies I often built to while away the days and weeks of my travels. His scent, his warm skin, his hard hands. His cock that stretched me—achingly.

“I’m not dreaming, am I?” I asked, afraid of the answer and his knowing smile, and ashamed of my body’s creamy response. My lips trembled, and his gaze fell to my mouth. I closed my eyes.

“No. You’re not dreaming.” 

*~*~*

This story is coming your way on July 26th! Pre-order your copy now!

UPDATE: The winners are Melissa Packett and Pat Freely!
See comments for instructions!

* * * * *

All you SEAL lovers—get ready to get your freak on! And yes,
I’m hearing Missy Elliott’s song in my head! 🙂

Military Super-bundle of eleven novellas and novels by New York Times, USA Today and award-winning bestselling authors: Lynn Raye Harris, Cora Seton, Zoe York, Kimberley Troutte, Jennifer Lowery, Elle James, Delilah Devlin, Kat Cantrell, Anne Marsh, Kate Pearce and Amity Lassiter.

Get your copy here!

HOT SEAL RESCUE (HOT SEAL Team) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author LYNN RAYE HARRIS. Navy SEAL Cody “Cowboy” McCormick gets a whole lot more than he bargained for when a gorgeous woman with a gun abducts him in broad daylight.

A SEAL’s OATH (SEALs of Chance Creek) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author CORA SETON. Wanted: one wife, one baby. Love not required. Navy SEAL Boone Rudman has six months to find a wife and get her pregnant or he’ll lose his chance to win 1500 acres of prime Montana ranch land. So when he discovers Riley Eaton living on his new ranch, all grown up from the tomboy she used to be, he decides she’ll do for his bride–whether or not she’s got other plans.

FALL DIRTY (SEALs Undone) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author ZOE YORK. Navy SEAL Hunter Dex is a man on a mission–to discover all of his beautiful new girlfriend’s deepest desires.

BRING THE HEAT (SEAL EXtreme Team series) by RITA-nominated NYT and USAT Bestselling Author KIMBERLEY TROUTTE. When hostiles ambush an Army convoy with top-secret weapons and hold his wife hostage, Navy SEAL Tavon Sting faces an impossible choice–protect the White House and his team or save the woman he loves more than life.

A SEAL’s PROMISE (Book #4, SEAL Team Alpha) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author JENNIFER LOWERY. Brogan Steele is a hard-as-nails Navy SEAL. Inheriting half of a spa doesn’t fit any part of his life. His attempt to be a silent partner bombs when he falls for his beautiful partner.

SEAL’S DECEPTION (Take No Prisoners Book #8) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author ELLE JAMES. A Navy SEAL poses as bodyguard to a sexy CIA operative undercover as the arranged bride of a Saudi prince in search of the biological weapons sale traced to the Prince’s palace.

BABY, IT’S YOU (Uncharted SEALs, Book #5) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author DELILAH DEVLIN. Carter Vance, Jr. stands at the fork in the road. Wounded in action, the Navy SEAL has a decision to make: whether to find work with a spec ops unit, or return to his family ranch in Texas and repair his fractured relationship with his dying father and the woman he wronged. Complicating the decision is his reignited attraction to Melanie Schaeffer and his confusion over his feelings for his dead brother’s little girl, whom Melanie has raised since his brother’s and her sister’s deaths by a terrorist’s bomb.

COMMANDING HER SEAL (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights) by award-winning author KAT CANTRELL. Lieutenant Commander Charlie St. Croix needs some downtime to decide if he should reenlist. What better way to recharge than with Audra Reed, a hot redhead who’s a self-confessed adrenaline junkie?

The TROUBLE WITH SEALS (ASSIGNMENT: Caribbean Nights) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author ANNE MARSH. A quick, straightforward business transaction rapidly becomes something else when a Navy SEAL butts heads with a beautiful woman over a piece of paradise.

ONCE A SEAL (The Morgan Ranch series) by NYT and USAT Bestselling Author KATE PEARCE. After an eventful career as a Navy SEAL, Jay Williams returns home to Morgantown, California to take over the running of his family’s bar. After being rescued from a hostage situation and barely emerging alive Erin Cooper definitely has trust issues… There’s only one person who will tell her the truth. Her mystery SEAL might not know it, but he’s her last chance…

A COWBOY SEAL’s BRIDE by Bestselling Author AMITY LASSITER. Navy SEAL Lane Sutton wants to retire to the ranch his grandfather left him and battle his demons in peace. Too bad the only way to legally claim the ranch is to marry a woman from his past. A woman who once rejected his proposal and will surely be hell bent on doing so again. But this time, there’s no way Lane’s letting her–or his ranch–go without a fight.

Contest

If you’d like to catch up on the rest of my Uncharted SEALs, you can check out the titles by clicking on the covers here. Two lucky commenters will get a chance to start their reading adventure, because I’ll give them their choice of one of these stories!

UPDATE: Stepbrothers Stepping Out: With His Pack is live!
Get your copy at Amazon!

* * * * *

I dawdled posting this blog today because I was hoping I’d have a live link for the book, but it hasn’t happened yet. So, I’m going to let you peek inside the story now, and when the link is live, I’ll update this blog. If you leave a comment and click that little box that asks if you want to see responses to the blog, you’ll know when the link is live!

You know I’ve been writing a series of stepbrother/menage stories these past months, and they’v e been doing well. But I thought I might play with the concept and add one more trope/theme that I hope you’ll enjoy. Check it out!

Cammi didn’t realize when she dropped out of college that her pack alpha, her stepbrother Corbin, would demand she choose a mate.

Angry, she chose three…

Read an excerpt:

There’s nothing more unnerving than waking up naked on your hands and knees in the middle of your brother’s pack—unless it’s waking in the middle of all the single males of that pack.

I blew a lock of hair from my eyes, dusted my hands of leaves and dirt, and slowly moved to sit on my haunches, trying my best not to give in to the urge to slide a hand between my legs and an arm over my breasts. My embarrassment would only sharpen their still-feral, mirrored stares.

“You couldn’t have ended the run closer to our cars?” I asked, turning to glare at my stepbrother Corbin. He and his friends had somehow managed to cull me from the larger pack during our run—a deliberate move, I knew, because he never did anything without calculation.

“Wouldn’t have been as much fun,” he said, lifting his upper lip. His teeth were always slow to shorten, so his smile was especially wolfish.

“You’re an asshole.”

“And you haven’t given me a name.” His gaze went to the males who formed a semi-circle around me. “Choose one. You’ve had time to get to know them. Weeks. You have a duty to fulfill.”

I licked my bottom lip, stalling for time, just as I had every day since I’d returned to the North Carolina mountains. If I’d known that dropping out of college in my sophomore year meant I had to immediately choose a mate, I might have gutted out the remainder of my degree—and then sought a place in a graduate program. I wasn’t ready to choose. Wolves mated for life. None of the men in front of me had held my interest during our supervised dates. How the hell was I supposed to shackle myself to one of them for the rest of my entire stinking life?

Although I had to admit that, naked, they looked a whole lot more interesting. All were young and well-built. Some lean, some burly. Dark and light.

Unwanted, desire stirred inside me. “Can I narrow my choices? Will that satisfy you for now?”

My brother’s jaw firmed. But then, he gave a curt nod. “Name them.”

I glanced around the circle, passing Scott, Doug, Jason, Mathias, Howie, and finally, I rested my gaze on Corbin, all the while thinking. This was just another stall tactic, and Corbin knew it, but he’d allowed me more time. Why? He didn’t have to. As the newly appointed alpha of our pack, he could simply make a decree and give me to one of his friends. As a breedable female, a rare commodity among werewolves, I understood my responsibility. Still, that didn’t mean I wasn’t resentful of my fate.

Since he was forcing me to narrow my field, I decided I wouldn’t let him see me as beaten, not even a bit. I pushed up from the ground. “Form a row,” I said to the handsome wolves surrounding me.

Scott glanced at Corbin. “You know you could just assign her a mate. She doesn’t understand her place.”

I stepped toward Scott and made sure he registered the fact I was as tall as he was. Our gazes collided. His pupils flared, nearly consuming the bright green irises. Brown shaggy hair tickled the tops of his shoulders. The days-old stubble framing his mouth gave him the look of a pirate, which fit given the fact we were all descended from Edward Teach’s crewmen, who had intermarried descendants of Jean Lafitte’s—all cursed by a Haitian witch, because they’d managed to steal her greatest treasure—her daughters.

Interestingly, Scott’s cock lengthened the longer I held his hard stare. It was lovely really. Long and thick, with a broad head. His balls were a little on the large side though. I almost passed him, but I liked the fact he was the most aggressive of the group. And one of my brother’s closest friends. The bitch inside me wanted to lick those big balls. My witchy DNA from my mother’s side wished Corbin would watch while I did it. I eyed his cock then arched a brow. “You,” I said softly.

He cupped himself and smiled.

An image flashed of those balls hitting my clit every time he stroked…

Maybe he read my mind, because his smile stretched, and his strut was especially cocky as he walked to stand beside Corbin.

I continued down the line.

Doug’s smile was open. Too honest. The last thing I wanted as a mate was a nice guy. I’d walk all over him and make his life a hell he didn’t deserve.

I moved to Jason. His smirk raised the hairs on my arms. I couldn’t stop myself, I growled deep in my throat and let him see my inner bitch, flashing him a glowing glare.

Next, I paused in front of Mathias. Quiet, watchful, golden-haired Mathias. Another of Corbin’s besties. Something about the way Mathias looked at me with his nearly purple eyes hinted at a sensual patience I found intriguing, right along with his arrow-tipped cock. Almost as intriguing as the plan building in my mind. “You,” I said.

Without a smile, his chin lifted, effectively cutting his gaze from mine because he was taller by a head. He strode to stand by Scott.

In front of Howie now, I sighed. Howie was a puppy. Playful. Happy. Ever eager to stick his nose where it wasn’t invited… I heard his sigh as I turned away.

I strode toward Corbin. My black-haired, burly brother. His expression was as hard as granite. Did it bother him to see my choices? Or was he bothered for another reason? I glanced at his cock, still flaccid. Was he truly uninterested or did he have that much control? Didn’t matter. He’d forced my hand. I’d give him back some of his own medicine.

I reached out and scraped a sharpened claw across his chest, watching as goose bumps lifted on his skin. A low warning sounded in the back of his throat. And his dark eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t.”

I shook back my hair and stood on my toes so that my lips were even with his. An inch apart. Close enough I felt his harshening breaths against my mouth. “You,” I whispered.

*~*~*

And in case you haven’t already sampled my previous SSO stories…click on the covers!