Advertising for Love (12 page)

About the Author

Elisabeth Roseland spends her days dreaming up ways to throw sexy heroes and strong heroines together. Her characters explore the wonderful, agonizing, joyful, heartbreaking and complicated human experiences that are sex and love. And she also hopes to inspire readers to grab the nearest consenting adult and do something fun. She lives in Chicago with her very own Happily Ever After.

Check out her website:
www.elisabethroseland.com

Connect on Twitter:
@E_Roseland

Find her on Facebook:
www.facebook.com/EbonyNights

To win her heart, he’ll have to touch off her internal combustion.

Overdrive

© 2012 Chloe Cole

Even after ten long years, Frankie Sepkaski’s success as the best vintage car mechanic around still hasn’t overcome her teenage rep as a promiscuous troublemaker. No matter how tempting the prospect, the last thing Mac Galbraith needs is for her to take him out for a spin. Especially since his family thinks he should be looking for a prospective wife among the local socialites, not slumming with a grease monkey.

Mac likes vintage rides, but buying a new one every month just to have an excuse to see his ridiculously sexy mechanic in her overalls? That’s pathetic. When she finally says yes to his date offer, he’s not fooled. It’s only because she has every intention of using him to indulge her fantasies—then walking away. But Mac knows something else: underneath her bad-girl persona is a woman worth her weight in lug nuts.

It might take a crowbar to get her to admit she has feelings for him, but he plans to put the pedal to the metal to convince her to keep him around for more than just a test drive.

Warning: Sweaty, down-and-dirty sex between a mechanic and her best client. Read at your own risk. Dangerous curves lie ahead, and these roads are slippery when wet.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Overdrive:

The line went quiet again, save for their echoing breaths. She should probably hang up.

“I don’t want to hang up yet,” Mac said, the reluctant honesty in his tone encouraging her to be honest in return.

“Me either.”

“What do you want, Frankie?”

What did she want?

She shoved aside all the doubts and self-recriminations and spoke the truth. “To listen to you talk. Your voice is so…”

“So…?” he urged.

Her heart pounded, and she closed her eyes. “Sexy. Your voice is so goddamn sexy.”

“I’m glad that you think so. And what would you like me to talk about?”

She squirmed, a familiar pressure spreading low in her belly. How to answer that loaded question? Mac had offered her the chance to explore a world she’d denied herself for so long. If she was going to do it, she was going to do it right.

“The things we’re going to do tomorrow, maybe,” she whispered.

His breath came out in a hiss. “That’s up to you, babe. I’m at your disposal. Whatever you want, however you want it.”

His answer both excited and frustrated her. She’d been hoping he’d—

“But I can tell you what I’d like us to do,” he said softly. “What I’ve imagined doing a thousand times. Would you like that?”

“Yes.” She gripped the phone tighter and pressed her thighs together.

“First, tell me, are you in bed?”

“Uh-huh. Are you?”

“Yes. I hate to be cliché and ask what you’re wearing, so I’m going to pretend it’s a black, short, lace nightgown.”

She glanced down at her flowered boxer shorts and Bob Marley T-shirt and bit her lip. “Yeah, we’ll go with that.”

His warm chuckle sent a thrill through her, and she smiled.

“Are the lights on?” Mac asked.

“Yes.”

“Turn them off.”

She didn’t hesitate, reaching over to turn off the bedside lamp. “Okay, they’re off.”

“Mine too.”

He must have moved to settle in because she could hear the creak of the bed. The darkness of the room only intensified the intimacy of the situation.

“Do you remember the first car I brought you?”

She burst out laughing. “Um, let’s see. I think it was the Camaro, right? Is that your idea of mechanic dirty talk?” she teased.

“Nope. I only brought it up to give you a point of reference. That day your dad was out, and you came out of the garage into the office wiping your hands on a rag. Your hair was in a ponytail like usual, and you had on black overalls. They were made of some stretchy material, and they fit you like a glove. It was like some high school wet dream come to life.”

His admission made her nipples hard, and she shifted beneath the covers.

“You asked me what the problem was. I told you, and you launched into this amazing analysis of what you thought was wrong. That made me even hotter for you.” His breath grew harsh, and his voice dipped lower. “I went home and jerked off thinking about you. Pulling the zipper down with my teeth. Pushing those overalls past your breasts…your hips. Making you step out of them so I could bend you over the hood and use my knee to spread your legs apart. You’d be open, Frankie. Accessible and wet as I slid my cock into you one inch at a time. Slow. I’d go so slow, baby, even now, because I’d want to feel all of you as I went in. I’d relish the heat and the burn. I’d push and stretch you until your pussy squeezed me tight, over and over while you screamed my name.”

Frankie pressed her thighs together as his words pulsed straight to her clit. Her strained breath joined his. “W-were you in your bed when you…jerked off?” she whispered, slipping a hand down her stomach. She imagined him stroking his cock as he caressed her, feeling the silken skin of her belly and lower. Her knees parted as a hand—she groaned—connected with the hot, moist flesh exposed. Her head fell back, and she closed her eyes.

“I was in the shower. I came so fucking hard I thought I was going to pass out,” he admitted gruffly. “Can you wear those tomorrow? The overalls?”

She nodded then cleared her throat when she realized he couldn’t see her. “Yes. If you want me to.”

“Hell yeah. I want to unwrap you like a present. No bra. Pinch your nipples for me now, Frankie,” he murmured.

She covered one breast with her hand and tweaked her nipple. Her body was already in overdrive from the night of almost unbearable tension, and excitement and wetness flooded her center. She pinched again, more sharply this time, and gasped.

“I love that sound.” Mac groaned. “Do it again. Play with your nipple and imagine it’s my mouth, my tongue, my teeth. I can’t wait to cup those full, gorgeous breasts in my hands. Do you remember the second car I brought you, Frankie?”

She writhed against her hand as she plucked at the straining tip of her breast. “No,” she breathed.

“The Z-28. You were leaving midday to go to the dentist. It was summertime, and you had on a halter top with tiny little roses on it. All I could think about was sliding it down and covering one of those luscious breasts with my mouth. Kneading the other with my hand. Want to know something really dirty?”

She did. So much. “Yes,” she whispered, grinding the heel of her palm against her pubic bone.

“Every day for a week I had the same dream. You were naked on your knees in front of me.” His voice went rough, guttural, and she strained to understand him, desperate for the words and the sensations they caused. “I didn’t even ask. You just opened your beautiful mouth and welcomed me inside. Deep, deep inside. Working your tongue, pulling and sucking me off until I was ready to come.”

“Un-huh.” Her legs had begun to quake as she arched against her hand now, the tension in her thighs building.

“Then you’d stop and raise up to kiss my stomach. I could feel your tits on my cock, your hard nipples brushing my thighs. You’d press my dick between your breasts and squeeze. It felt like dying. You’d start to move, bouncing high on your knees, then down again, faster and faster, squeezing tighter and tighter. Right when I thought I’d die, you would stare up at me, those gorgeous lips swollen from sucking my cock. Right as I was about to come, I’d wake up. I’d be so fucking hard, so ready, I’d grip it and give it one stroke and explode.”

“I want you to do that now. Let me hear you,” she begged.

“Oh yeah. You too. Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes. Outside my underwear.”

“Take them off,” he growled.

Her whole body shook as she put the phone down and stripped off her clothes. She’d never felt so desperate for an orgasm, so wild and out of control in her life. Scooping up the phone, she lay back down and slipped a hand between her legs. The wet heat engulfed her fingers, soaking them. She let out a hiss.

“That’s it,” he crooned. “Is your pussy wet for me, Frankie? Because my cock has never been so hard.”

“Yes, I’m wet. So wet, and I want you inside me so bad,” she whimpered.

She could hear the creaking of his bed through the phone now, and the slow, steady beat set her aflame. There was no question what he was doing.

Temptation never tasted so good.

Once Burned

© 2012 Dee Carney

Close to the Heat, Book 1

With a chance to win a cooking competition that will advance her career, the last thing food truck chef Pepper Joseph needs is a distraction. Except she’s got a heaping helping of it in the form of fellow chef Darien Priest, the man who broke her heart.
 

It’s been years, and she tells herself she’s over his betrayal, but to her irritation, she finds she still has an appetite for his steel gray eyes, clean-shaven head, and sleeve tattoos.
 

Darien regrets the single, juvenile act that ended it with Pepper, but he’s never found the courage to apologize. Now that they’re in close quarters, something’s steaming and it’s not just the saucepots. One, toe-curling kiss proves there’s the potential for more than just a guarded friendship, and he sets out to prove he’s grown into an honorable man.

Until he discovers she’s pulled a seasoning switch that could have ruined one of his dishes. Now it’s
on.
There’s ten thousand dollars on the line, but if they don’t surrender to another chance at love, one—or both—of their wounded hearts could get singed.

Warning: “Scorching hot” doesn’t refer to the food. Contains two chefs who’ll inspire cravings of the very carnal kind. Includes one delicious recipe guaranteed to blow any diet out of the water.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Once Burned:

“You okay?”

Pepper went rigid. Priest’s hushed voice came from only inches behind her. It was still infused with the melting heat from the past half hour.

When she turned to meet his gaze, fortunately—or unfortunately—sincere concern stared back at her. “Pep? You look a little flushed. Are you all right? Do you need a break?”

“W-what?”

“Sweetheart, you’ve been wiping the same spot for the past ten minutes, and you’ve got this dazed look. Not to mention the color in your cheeks.” They’d already turned in their dishes and were now cleaning up their stations and awaiting the judges’ decisions.

She dropped the bleach rag like it had scalded her. “Just thinking,” she said, breathless. Her mind raced to come up with a valid excuse for her spacey behavior. The slider he’d made and her dessert offering had been strokes of genius. Undoubtedly, the judges would think so too. “Wish they’d give us the results of the competition right away, instead of making us wait, you know?”

Priest’s expression blanked as he studied her. “Come with me.”

He held out his hand, and, unthinking, she grasped it, only realizing her mistake the second his fingers curled around hers. “Where are we going?”

Whisking them past contest staff and stragglers who’d watched the show, he peered down a dark hallway. Seemingly satisfied with what he found, he took them in one room and then the next before settling on the third. “Here,” he said, leading her forward, “for privacy.”

Overhead lighting filled the room, and Pep tried not to study her surroundings too hard. “Man, you take me to the
best
places.”

Boxes surrounded them on both sides, the paper’s overwhelming mustiness closing in on them. A fine layer of dust covered quite a few of the surfaces. She gave him about six minutes before her allergies kicked in, and then there’d be hell to pay. “What’s going on, Priest?”

He took two steps away from her, facing toward the now-closed door. His head dropped, and he spoke so softly, she almost didn’t hear him. “I never should have left things the way they were.”

Her breath caught. It took a reserve of strength to force out her whispered words. “What did you say?”

Priest turned, his gaze never coming up enough to meet hers. “I’ve thought about my behavior back then a million times over. I’ve twisted and turned it. Justified it and made it okay when it wasn’t. I’ve looked back, horrified, and I wish very much I’d done things differently.”