Fournicopia (12 page)

Look for these titles by Delilah Devlin

Now Available:

Saddled

Stone’s Embrace

Undeniable

Lone Star Lovers

Unbridled

Unforgiven

Four Sworn

Breaking Leather

A Four-Gone Conclusion

Delta Heat

Five Ways ’Til Sunday

Coming Soon:

Laying Down the Law

Two men plus one woman equals three bodies on fire…

True Heart

© 2010 Delilah Devlin

A
Red Hot Winter
Story

True Wyatt’s hands are going to be full enough keeping the herd alive through the dead of winter. The last thing he needs to hear is that his brother Lonny has rented out their isolated hunting cabin to a reclusive writer—especially a sassy, disaster-prone brunette. Who has time to babysit a city girl until spring?

With a deadline looming, erotica writer Honey Cahill is looking forward to six distraction-free weeks to finish her next book. However, between Lonny’s flirty sensuality and True’s hard-edged intensity, the Wyatt brothers set the stage of her imagination for a winter of wicked delights.

The fire that destroys the cabin, though, is as real as it gets. Forced to seek a bed under True and Lonny’s roof, the temptation to experiment—all in the name of research, of course—is overpowering. One night in their arms doesn’t feel like enough; it feels like more. Particularly with one cowboy who fires all her cylinders…

Warning: It’s a Devlin ménage—expect men with stamina and not an ounce of mercy to behave like sex gods, and the lucky woman to love every minute of it. A little domination goes a long, long way…

Enjoy the following excerpt for
True Heart:

Honey sat huddled under a blanket on the couch Lonny had moved nearer the fire. He’d found a pair of insulated leggings for her to wear that fit her well enough. Her ass kept them from falling off. The sweater was large, and fell off whichever shoulder she shrugged, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Her own clothing was salvageable and was in the laundry, but she’d save them for her trip off the mountain once the snowplows cleared the road.

Lonny had checked with the department of transportation and said it might be several days before she could leave. And she was determined to do just that—despite his assurances that she could stay and complete the work she’d come to do.

However, that seemed pointless. She’d saved the thumb drive, but she didn’t have the heart to finish the new story. She was supposed to write something sexy and flirty, but all she had the urge to create was a tragedy.

She knew she was feeling sorry for herself, and she should pull up her big-girl panties and get on with it. But she didn’t have any panties on.

“I have soup.”

She jumped at True’s quiet words. The man could creep up on a ghost. And was that all he had to say?
Seriously?

Honey bit back a retort, recognizing that what she really wanted was to start a fight—with him. She held out her hand and waited while he turned the mug to present her the handle.

A small gesture, but one that fucked with her head. Why be gentle? Why pretend to care whether she burned her fingers? She’d burned down his entire cabin—his quaint little hunting cabin that his father had built years ago. Why wasn’t he furious?

She gulped down a sip of chicken soup and blinked.

“Couldn’t you tell it was hot?”

She blinked away pain-filled tears and aimed a blistering glare his way.

True’s jaw clenched. “I’ll leave you to finish.” He began to turn away.

She bent to set the cup on the floor. “Why are you avoiding me?” If she could have bit her own tongue and swallowed it whole, she would have.

True hesitated. “You’ve been through enough.”

“Don’t give me that crock of—” She glanced away. She wasn’t going to cuss at the man. Wasn’t going to make herself look any more pathetic than she already was.

“I’m guessing now’s not a good time to check on our girl.”

Both Honey and True turned to glare at Lonny whose mouth moved like he was biting his lip. Was he laughing at them?

“Don’t disappear,” True said. “I can’t seem to get anything right.”

“No kidding,” Honey muttered.

Lonny walked deeper into the room, glancing from Honey to True. “I take it you’re feeling more yourself, Honey?”

“I’ve never been less myself,” she snarled.

“I don’t know about that,” he said amiably. “The color’s back in your cheeks.”

Honey hit her thigh with her fist. “I don’t shout at men. I don’t ever want to shout at men. But he—” She glared at True. “He manages to push every last one of my buttons.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Lonny asked softly. He took a seat beside her. “Quit hovering, True. Take a seat.”

True looked reluctant but took up the space on her left side. Wedged between the two brothers, Honey blew out a deep breath. The temperature in the room had skyrocketed. She flipped back her blanket.

True reached for the edge and shoved it over her shoulder.

“I’m warm enough,” she muttered.

“You’ll get sick.”

“And that would be a huge inconvenience on top of the hundred other inconveniences I’ve caused, wouldn’t it?”

True nodded, but her searing glance had him buttoning his lip and glancing away. “I should head out to check on the horses in the barn.”

“They’ll wait,” Lonny said flatly.

Honey flung up her hands. “I can assure both of you that I’m fine. No need for you to worry. If you’ll just show me where I can sleep…”

Lonny laid a hand on her knee and leaned toward her. “That’s part of what we’re going to talk about, sweetheart.”

She narrowed her eyes to give him a mean glare even though inside her heart was thumping loudly in her chest. “Oh, yeah?”

“True mentioned what you’re writing.”

True muttered a curse under his breath.

Honey’s cheeks burned. “Anyone ever tell you that you two are big fat gossips?”

“Not ever. Don’t change the subject. A ménage, right?”

“I changed my mind,” she said, folding her arms over her chest. “I’ve decided to scrap the book. Now I’m going to write a post-apocalyptic story—lots of blood and guts. I’m feeling pretty violent at the moment.”

“I think you need to do the right research.”

“Oh, really?” She wouldn’t admit it even on her dying bed, but just the thought of doing a little
research
made her heart flutter madly.

“You can count me out,” True said forcefully.

“Not to your taste, I know,” Lonny said, so cheerfully he made Honey want to scream. “You mentioned that before.”

Honey kept her gaze on Lonny because she was way too chicken to look at True. “You two talked about doing a ménage with me? Is anything sacred?”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist.”

“You know damn well I’m not wearing any.”

“Dammit.”

That did it. Honey swung toward True. “Do you know any other cuss words?”

“His vocabulary’s limited,” Lonny quipped.

She lifted her chin when True’s gaze narrowed. “So I noticed,” she said, keeping her tone even.

“Be nice,” Lonny chided.

She grunted and faced forward again. “Sorry.”

“Back to the ménage…”

True stirred beside her, and she felt his thighs tense like he was going to rise. Without looking at him, Honey laid her hand on his thigh and pressed down.

“There ought to be a few rules,” Lonny continued. “Things each one of us won’t do.”

“Like swords never crossing,” she quipped.

“For God sake,” True ground out. “Did either of you hear what I said?
Not interested.
”

“If I believed that for a minute, I’d lay off.” All humor was gone from Lonny’s voice.

Honey held her breath, waiting…

True stayed tense beneath her hand. His breaths deepened.

“Personally, I’d just as soon not ‘cross swords’ as Honey suggested,” Lonny said slowly.

Honey drew in a deep breath. “I’d just as soon not be tied down.”

Both men pinned her with a glance.

She shrugged. “I like to touch.”

True jerked but didn’t try to rise.

Getting the upper hand—and foot—was never this naughty

Twister

© 2012 Lexxie Couper

Party Games, Book 3

As the man who snared the reins of his father’s global media empire and propelled it to new heights, Lachlan McDermott is accustomed to people jumping to obey his every command. He knows he is painted as handsome, arrogant and influential with the power of information at his control. But no one knows he’s got a weakness. Only one. And now, that weakness is in his house. Braless
.

Über successful fashion photographer Cameron Winters used to be the super-model known only as Kole. But Kole dropped out of sight a long time ago. Only one thing can bring Cameron out of her self-imposed exile from public life: a man who doesn’t know she exists.

The trouble is, when Cameron comes face to face with Lachlan at an exclusive Sydney party, he immediately brings out the “Kole” in her. And Kole doesn’t bow down to anyone. Not even the one man who monopolizes her fantasies
.

When they’re pitted against each other on the Twister mat, surrender isn’t part of the deal, and getting tangled up is only the beginning. Especially when their secrets keep getting in the way.

Warning:
Read in private. Contains a sexy, brooding, smoldering, dominating Australian Alpha male hero who will make you want to take your clothes off and beg to play.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Twister:

The sound of the spinner’s arrow whizzing around, followed by the referee clearing his throat, filled the surreal silence
.

“
Right hand, green
.”

Both she and Lachlan moved at once, lowering their torsos until their right hands pressed flat to the green circle. Her skirt rode high on her backside, the supple black leather sliding up the backs of her thighs until she felt the room’s air-conditioned air tease the crotch of her knickers. Someone behind her uttered a whispered, “Fuck that’s a gorgeous arse
”.

Lachlan’s stare moved to the unseen speaker, steady and unwavering. There was the sound of feet shuffling, someone cleared their throat and then Lachlan was looking at Cameron again
.

A ripple of tight heat shot through her. For a split second, the guarded expression was gone from his face. For a split second raw hunger and molten desire replaced it. For only a split second
.

The buzz of the Twister spinner sawed the tense silence
.

Cameron’s heart thumped harder in her chest
.

“
Right foot, yellow
.”

She drew a steadying breath. The move would draw her and Lachlan but one row of circles apart, but whereas her limbs were splayed and her body straight, Lachlan would need to twist his to achieve the position
.

“
C’mon, McDermott,” a man to the left of the Twister mat called. “I’ve seen you in trickier positions than this
.”

“
Shut up, Harris,” Lachlan called back, although Cameron didn’t think the tone malicious. Just focused. Determined. He continued to stare at her, his dark eyes intense before, with one fluid move, he contorted his body into what should have been an awkward U shape and placed his right foot on a yellow circle
.

“
I just had a thought,” the same man who had called out—Harris?—suddenly spoke. “What’s the winner of the game get
?”

“
The loser,” someone behind Cameron answered
.

A nervous laugh hiccupped around the room
.

Lachlan’s nostril’s flared. “I never lose
.”

Cameron’s pussy constricted. “So I’ve heard
.”

“
Which means when I win—
”

“
You get me
.”

“
Lucky fucking bastard,” the same man who’d complimented her arse groaned loud enough for the whole room to hear
.

“
I don’t want you
.”

Cameron smiled slowly, even as her pulse thumped like an insane moth in her neck. Even as her mouth went dry and her belly knotted. “Liar
.”