My books are spotlighted this week as a part of the awesome facebook group What to Read After Fifty Shades of Gray! One of the books is an all-new release: Rocking Her Curves: Asher and Trixie Book One, only 99 cents right now on Amazon and Barnes and Noble.
What’s your temptation?
Asher just broke up with his long-distance girlfriend. When he meets Trixie, he’s smitten by her curves – but she’s the lead singer for the opening band: strictly off-limits.
Trixie can’t help but be attracted to the tall, handsome skater who plays music with such passion. There’s no way that he would be interested in someone who isn’t a rail-thin model, would he? Anyway, she’s heard that he has a girlfriend: strictly off-limits.
When their paths collide – literally – they’re forced to look temptation in the face and ask themselves: What do I really want?
“Ohhh,” she moaned, trying to encourage him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, pulling away. She pulled him back into a deep kiss, her tongue thrusting into his mouth greedily.
“Yes,” she whispered. “I want you to take me.”
Jack renewed his petting with a reinvigorated fervor. As he lay beside her, kissing her with gusto, she realized that he was waiting for her to make the next move. As always. It didn’t matter. She needed to relieve the ache inside of her. She sat up and pulled her dress off, and Jack followed suit, his shirt falling crumpled to the floor. He switched off the light so that the only hint of brightness came from the crack of the door out in the living room.
A sharp stab of frustration lanced through Trixie’s body. Why? Why did it always have to be dark? Always like this, with only a sliver of light playing over her body. She loved her body, loved the curves that led from her arms down to her hips. She loved the roundness of her ass when she craned her neck to peer over her shoulder into the mirror. Sometimes she would dance naked in the morning to the slow jazz songs that echoed through her body. Jazz was perfection, especially in the early hours when nobody else was awake in the world but her. Swaying in the reflection, she would wave her arms, swing her hips from side to side and pretend that she was a dancer in a burlesque troupe.
Now Jack moved in the darkness next to her, placing his hand on her chest, and she wished she could see his hand cupping the fullness of her breast, the tender soft skin and the faint border of darkness that separated her nipple from the skin around it. But no, no, it was always dark with him. If he was insecure about his own body, he never admitted it. He just preferred it this way, he said.
Fine. There was one positive aspect to the darkness, one benefit she found now that she had never known before. When Jack’s hand moved over her, she could pretend that it was someone else’s. She could pretend that she was spending the night with anybody, fantasize about any face in the dark of Jack’s room.
And there was only one person she wanted to spend the night with.
Unbidden, Asher’s face rose into her mind. She tried to push it aside but he kept returning. His bare chest, a sheen of sweat from skating.
Jack’s hands turned into his hands, the long fingers making their way across her body, hesitating. She grasped his arm and pulled him close. She could feel his hardness against her. Asher’s hardness. Asher’s body against hers. If she closed her eyes the fantasy became real.