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His hand wrapped around my upper arm and drew me close to his body.  “You bother me every second of every day, Kelsey mine, and it’s far too late for you to leave.”  He pulled me into the confines of his muscular arms.  His mouth went straight to my ear and he whispered.  “I’m undercover, sweetheart, and now you are, too.  You know how to play this role.  Keep your mouth closed and look submissive.  Do you remember?”

I nodded.  I knew exactly what he wanted.  I was capable of keeping my mouth shut when the occasion called for it. 

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, gorgeous,” he said as he allowed his hands to slide along the curve of my hip.  “I missed you, Kelsey mine.”

You Only Love Twice

Masters and Mercenaries 8

By Lexi Blake

Coming February 17, 2015

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A woman on a mission

Phoebe Graham is a specialist in deep cover espionage, infiltrating the enemy, observing their practices, and when necessary eliminating the threat. Her latest assignment is McKay-Taggart Security Services, staffed with former military and intelligence operatives. They routinely perform clandestine operations all over the world but it isn’t until Jesse Murdoch joins the team that her radar starts spinning. Unfortunately so does her head. He’s gorgeous and sweet and her instincts tell her to trust him but she’s been burned before, so he’ll stay where he belongs—squarely in her sights.

A man on the run

Since the moment his Army unit was captured by jihadists, Jesse’s life has been a nightmare. Forced to watch as those monsters tortured and killed his friends and the woman he loved, something inside him snapped. When he’s finally rescued, everyone has the same question—why did he alone survive? Clouded in accusations and haunted by the faces of those he failed, Jesse struggles in civilian life until McKay-Taggart takes him in. Spending time with Phoebe, the shy and beautiful accountant, makes him feel human for the first time in forever. If someone so innocent and sweet could accept him, maybe he could truly be redeemed.

A love they never expected

When Phoebe receives the order to eliminate Jesse, she must choose between the job she’s dedicated her life to and the man who’s stolen her heart. Choosing Jesse would mean abandoning everything she believes in, and it might mean sharing his fate because a shadowy killer is dedicated to finishing the job started in Iraq.

* * * *

Jesse pushed through the double doors, his whole being surprisingly calm. This was what he needed. He’d been sitting in his office waiting for her to wake up, thinking about how he would handle this interrogation with some modicum of civility.

It was so good to know civility wasn’t going to be required.

It wasn’t so good to realize that the minute she’d opened that bratty mouth, he’d gotten hard as hell and he wanted to fuck her more than he wanted to figure her out. There was a little voice playing in his head that told him to just get inside her and all those secrets would open for him. All he had to do was thrust inside her tight body and the mysteries of the universe would reveal themselves.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to do that. He was going to do his job and find out who she worked for and then he would walk away from her. He wasn’t going to hold her tenderly or hope she could love him. No. It was time to grow the fuck up. How was it being through what he’d been through in Iraq hadn’t managed to teach him what this one woman had? He needed to shut down and do his job.

But that didn’t mean parts of his job couldn’t be very pleasurable.

“Uhm, Jesse, don’t you think you should handle this in the conference room? It’s where Ian planned on keeping her.” Adam Miles’s voice was an unwelcome intrusion.

“No.” He knew the old Jesse would have stopped, but this was between him and Phoebe.

“Adam, I can really explain. This is all one huge misunderstanding.” Phoebe tried to bring her head up.

That was an easy move to counter. He brought his hand down on that sweet, sweet ass. Phoebe had the damn prettiest ass he’d ever watched for hours and drooled over, and now he had zero reason to not spank that gorgeous flesh. He heard that sound, that smack as his hand hit her, and he felt her shiver. She didn’t scream. Nope. He’d thought if he smacked her good, she would call him a fucking pervert, but he’d been a dumbass idiot and this Phoebe just moaned a little as the slap went through her.

It wasn’t the type of moan that would cause him to stop spanking a sub at Sanctum.

Motherfucker. He knew he hadn’t been wrong about her. He’d thought there was a submissive streak buried under her “I’m a good girl so don’t fuck my sweet little asshole” exterior.

“The only explanation is I’m a dirty little spy and I need to tell my captor everything in order to keep him from slapping my ass silly.” He couldn’t be professional with her. It wouldn’t work. It would only serve to put distance between them, and now he could see that distance was what she’d worked for the whole time. She hadn’t let him do more than hold her hand and give her an awkward peck. She’d had him convinced he just wasn’t her type, but he could smell her now. Yeah, that wasn’t sweet or gentlemanly, but then that obviously didn’t work for her. “She likes me slapping her ass. Take a deep whiff, Adam, and you’ll be able to tell she’s aroused.”

She gasped and her whole torso came up off his. “Jesse!”

Yeah, she sounded like a pissed off girlfriend, but she wasn’t his girlfriend. She was the woman who had played him and then nearly painted her initials on his chest. And he was the idiot who had stood there and almost begged her to do it.

He cringed at the thought of how stupid he’d been about her. He knew he was ping-ponging, caught between wanting to understand her and wanting to throttle her, but most of all, he wanted to get his hands on her.

He wanted to see just how much she’d lied about.

“You might want to think this thing through, Jesse,” Adam began.

He was just about to tell Adam where he could shove his thought process when Big Tag strode out of his office. A thunderous look clouded his boss’s face, but Jesse was ready to throw down with whoever he needed to. This was his op and his…fuck, he didn’t even know what to call her, but Phoebe was his.

Ian stopped in front of them. “Take her to your office. Do what you need to do but keep it down. Apparently we’re still having a baby shower and I have to attend or risk having my balls ripped off my body. I like my balls, Murdoch. Keep her quiet. Charlie’s serious about this party thing. When did I fucking lose control? She’s not even an employee here.”

“No. I’m part owner,” Charlotte said, her voice a sharp instrument. She was a beautiful woman with strawberry blonde hair. She rested her hand on the bump on her belly that seemed to get bigger every day. “Eve and I own half this company, you know. And we have all the boobs so try getting around us. Phoebe, I swear to god if I find out you’ve done one thing to put this company and our people in danger I will take you apart myself. Is that understood? You better hope you can prove you weren’t going to hurt Jesse. He’s one of my men and I will deal with you.”

Phoebe’s head came up again. “Your men? That’s a little presumptuous, isn’t it? You treat him like a puppy you can pat on his head and send away. He isn’t yours and if you think you can take me, you’re wrong.”

Charlotte’s lips curled up and Jesse realized Phoebe had just fallen into a trap. “She doesn’t like the fact that I said you’re mine, Jesse.”

Big Tag was frowning at her. “I didn’t either.”

She waved him off. “I meant as a friend and employee, but Phoebe’s brain goes straight for the sexual. I wonder why. Li’s right. You’re going to owe him a hundred bucks at the end of this thing. She’s all Stockholmed out. Who wants cake?”

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Bound by His Blood

Jennifer August

Available now!

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Investigative reporter Sheridan Aames is hot on the trail of a lethal drug flooding Boston. She never expects her snitch appointment to end in a hail of bullets...or to learn the sexy detective who rescues her is actually a vampire cop. It's not the fact he's a vampire which bothers her – it's realizing he’s a Dominant. She doesn’t want anything to do with that and doesn’t mind telling him. Except she can’t quite shake the compelling need pulling her toward him, the desire to kneel at his feet and see what comes of such an act. Logan McCallister knows there’s something special about Sheridan from the moment he wraps his arms around her and mists them to the safety of his house. He’s instantly attracted to her, drawn almost against his will to her spunky, vivacious nature. As a Dominant, McCallister is accustomed to subservience, instant obedience, and sensual submission. Sheridan's defiance stirs his excitement -- the more she resists her submission to him, the more he needs her, something he swore never to feel again. But as they battle their conflicting sexual desires, their investigation reveals a bigger — and more dangerous — threat to each other and mankind. Sheridan must find it within her to bend her knee...her neck...her heart...and submit to Logan to save humanity and herself.

* * * *

Boston, 1888

“Come on, Logan. It’ll be a grand night. It’s your eighteenth birthday. Time to become a man.”

Logan McCallister gave Joseph Kilkairn a sour look. The Scotsman was bound and determined to drag him to a brothel. McCallister wanted to go. He really did. Fear held him back.

If Father finds out where I’ve gone…

His straight-laced father would have an apoplectic fit if he knew his first-born son, the one he’d been meticulously grooming to join the family shipping business, had left their stately Beacon Hill house to pay for sex. Boston Brahmins did
not
engage in salacious activities, nor did they cross class lines.

The fire in the hearth crackled and popped. Wood groaned as it shifted into ash. The big house in which he lived with his father, younger brother, and sister was as empty and personable as an ancient tomb. None of his family had stayed to celebrate his birthday with even a special meal much less gifts or well wishes.

Not that I expected anything different.

His father ran a strict household. Frivolities like presents, celebrations, and affections were frowned upon.

Logan set his jaw as a spurt of rebellion tempted him.

One night out of a lifetime of duty won’t matter.

McCallister shifted the perfect knot of his cravat, brushed away non-existent lint from his custom-tailored jacket and nodded his head. “All right. I’m in.”

Joseph chortled and thumped him on the back. “You’re going to love it,” he said. His dark blue eyes gleamed. “I was there last week, myself. Had a gorgeous dove named Claudine take care of me. Gor, she was something else.”

Excitement thrummed in McCallister’s veins, easily beating away any lingering fear. Following Joseph from the house, McCallister leaped into the waiting coach with a light step born of eagerness. As they bounced and jostled over the cobblestone road leading from Beacon Hill, the gaslights flanking each side of the street streaked past like falling stars.

They arrived at Desdemona’s Palace a quarter hour later. McCallister climbed from the coach and stared at the elegant house in front of him. A full moon washed over the two-story building and graceful wrought-iron railings. Soft golden light flickered in nearly all the windows. A curtain moved on the upper right and he saw the perfect form of a woman outlined against the light. A taller male figure joined her and they disappeared from sight.

McCallister rubbed his hands together, suddenly eager to find and bed a woman with large breasts and a lusty appetite.

Joseph sprinted up the stairs and pulled the discreet gold chain near the door.

“Ready for the most incredible night of your life, McCallister?”

He grinned at his friend. “Absolutely.”

The door opened and a tall man with shoulders wider than the entry looked down at them. Recognition flickered in his black eyes when he looked at Joseph. He stepped back and waved them inside.

“Madam Desdemona will be with you shortly.”

He disappeared down the hall and McCallister looked around, trying to calm his racing heart.

A flight of stairs to their right led to the upper floor where he assumed the actual bedding took place. The entry in which they stood flared into a long and mostly dark corridor with a closed door at the end.

Sounds from around the house buffeted him. Throaty laughter and deep moans floated from above while from what seemed below, indeed under his feet, he swore someone sobbed.

He frowned. “Do you hear that?”

“Yeah,” Joseph said. He rubbed his hands together. “Sounds just like Claudine when she was riding my cock last week.”

The far door opened and McCallister straightened, all thought of the peculiar sound dispelled.

Desdemona was beautiful. Tall, raven-haired with a voluptuous and lush body revealed by the satin gown she wore.

A sheer robe hung over the gown and trailed down her curvaceous form as she glided toward them. Beneath the robe, her full breasts and wide hips pressed against the white satin. McCallister swallowed hard. Her nipples puckered visibly through her dress.

“Good evening, gentlemen.” Her throaty contralto wrapped around his cock and held fast. He prayed he didn’t disgrace himself.

“Madam Desdemona. You look ravishing as always.” Joseph bent over her hand.

McCallister thought his friend overdid it a bit with the bowed head and near subservient posture but then she was an incredibly beautiful woman. Her eyes were a shade of blue he’d never seen before. They looked as though they were lit from the inside by flashes of lightning. Her mouth was full, lush and ruby red.