URGE: A Stepbrother Romance (With FREE Bonus Book-Greed: A Stepbrother Romance Read online

  I picture Clay, his lean frame clothed in a perfect suit and expensive tie; his overly groomed hair. Maybe a little attention from a rough and tumble country boy is just what I need to push my lying, cheating ex-boyfriend out of my head.

  I take the final gulp of my whiskey and Coke and then put a hand on the man's broad shoulder. "I really do need to go," I say. "Would you be a gentleman and walk me to my car?"

  His eyes widen and I smile at his surprised response to my invitation. I start to pull out my wallet but he stops me. "I've got it," he says. He tosses two bills on the counter and then backs up just enough to give me space to slip off the stool.

  As I walk towards the exit, he escorts me with his warm hand gently resting on the small of my back. The heat of his touch radiates throughout my body. He moves ahead of me and holds the door open. He is a gentleman, or maybe not, I think, as his eyes hungrily scan my body when I move past him. Once we're outside, he places his hand on my back again, though this time the position is lower.

  "Where are you parked?" he says, in a voice that’s deeper and more serious-sounding than it was in the bar.

  "Around this way.” I gesture to the left.

  As soon as we pass the side of the building and are out of view of the entrance, I stop and turn toward him, and his arms circle around me. We look into each other's eyes for the briefest of moments before our mouths are drawn together. I reach up around his neck and pull him closer.

  I can taste beer on his lips, and the unfamiliarity of the flavor almost jolts me to my senses, but then he's pressing against me, and the feel of his massive, hard body makes me melt into him. I've always been attracted to intellectual or professional types, men with more developed minds than physiques. This man's body feels like a science lesson in muscle anatomy. He must work out for hours every day to maintain such well-defined bulk.

  While I'm marveling at the sheer size and density of him, he seems to be enjoying my body as well. He slides his hands over my silky blouse and then lower to my skirt, where he pulls my hips against him. He could easily crush me, but his touch is tender yet firm as he caresses my body.

  Our kisses deepen, and I feel a jolt of pure desire when he runs his tongue along my lower lip. Then he nips at it gently and I purr involuntarily before meeting his tongue with mine.

  “You taste good,” he murmurs when we pause to catch our breath. He backs me up against the side of the building and slips a hand under my blouse. Though his touch is warm, I shiver as he grasps the bare skin at my waist. “You feel good too,” he says in a low, gravelly voice that does funny things to my body. Funny, tingly things that threaten to melt me into a puddle at his feet.

  I curl my fingers into the hair at the back of his neck and dig my nails into his flesh as I pull his mouth back to mine. With my other hand, I blindly explore all those muscles I'd been admiring in the bar. His chest is so hard, and his massive arms are now surrounding me as I'm trapped between him and the wall.

  Our kisses grow desperate and I can feel his breathing change. His hand snakes further up my torso and brushes over my bra. He nips again at my swollen lip as his fingers find my nipple and pull at it through the thin fabric. My legs go weak as dizzying impulses fire throughout my body.

  "Where's your car?" he breathes against my ear before he pulls my earlobe into his mouth and tugs. Before I answer, he continues, "Never mind. My truck’s around back."

  Click HERE to keep reading PERFECT.

  Excerpt from PLOWED: A Stepbrother Romance:

  “Where are you going?”

  I didn’t mean to sound so hysterical. I think I’m still momentarily deaf from the loud music playing in the club. Outside, there’s hardly any sound save for the distant whir of a car’s engine. The night air ghosts over my skin, reminding me that eighty percent or so of me is exposed due to my short, skin-tight dress.

  Connor looks up from his mobile phone, mid-dial. His gaze roves over me for a second before he returns his attention to his phone, his forehead creased in a scowl.

  “Home.”

  “Why?”

  He turns a glare on me. It’s strange to be at the brunt of Connor’s anger. He’s usually smiling at me or teasing me. It’s weird. I’m often annoyed by his persistent good mood but now that he’s pissed off with me, I’m anxious to be back in his good graces.

  “So I can jerk off because my stepsister’s a fucking tease.”

  I fight the instant sexy imagery of Connor’s hand on his cock, working himself to climax. No, I can’t think about that. I shouldn’t.

  “It was just dancing,” I mumble.

  Up ahead, a cab comes into view. Without responding to me, Connor flags the cab down. As he bends to let the driver know where he intends to go, I scurry into the backseat.

  “What the hell are you doing?” he demands when he gets into the cab beside me.

  “I’m going home too.” I shrug. “These shoes are killing me.”

  He exhales, the sound of a highly frustrated man.

  “You’re a real pain in the ass.”

  “It takes one to know one, buddy,” I retort.

  The rest of the drive continues in silence. When we finally make it inside the cottage, I toe off my heels and sigh in relief. Connor stalks into the kitchen, shrugging off his blazer and slinging it over a kitchen chair. He pours some water from the tap, glaring at me over the lip of the glass as he drinks.

  “It was just dancing,” I repeat, folding my arms beneath my breasts. “I don’t get why you’re so upset about it.”

  He sets the empty glass down on the counter with a heavy thunk.

  “That was not just dancing, Haylee, and you know it.” He approaches me, his blue eyes still dark with anger. “Stop fucking around with me.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I know exactly what he’s talking about. I say one thing and do another. I tell him we can’t kiss or flirt, then I basically fuck him with our clothes on in the club.

  How can I explain myself? When I saw that woman touching him, I got jealous. I wanted his undivided attention. It’s so unflattering the more I think about it. Imagine how much worse it will sound if I say it out loud.

  “Oh yeah? Then let me show you.” There’s a determined glint in his eyes and just as I’m about to respond, he circles me, standing right behind me.

  “Connor—” I step forward, but he tugs me back so I’m pressed against his front like we were in the club.

  “See, I don’t think you understand what touching you does to me, Haylee.” His mouth is level with my ear so his tantalizing voice fills my head. “Sometimes, just looking at you makes me want you so bad I think I might go crazy.”

  Dear god. If there’s a record for the fastest time a woman can get wet, I think I’ve just broken it. I can’t move. I’m gripped by his words and his honesty. I don’t think I’ve ever inspired that kind of need in a man before and that power makes me heady.

  I gasp when his mouth descends on my neck. A light trail of kisses that make me close my eyes on a shiver.

  “You’re my stepbrother.” I don’t know why I say that. Maybe it’s some part of me that still wants to come back from whatever we’re about to do.

  “Yes,” growls Connor, pulling me harder against him so I can feel his rigid length. “But I’m still going to fuck you.”

  Click HERE to keep reading PLOWED.