Category Archives: BOOKS

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | April 15, 2025 · 5:00 am

Warpath Blitz

An Axel Blaze Crime Action Thriller

Action Adventure; Military thrillers; Vigilante justice

Date Published: April 10, 2025

A cartel kingpin. A botched raid. A blood-soaked vendetta.

When Mexico’s deadliest cartel, La Manada, spills blood on American
soil, Delta Force Captain Axel Blaze gets the call. His mission: capture
cartel boss Javier Salazar and crush his empire. No red tape. No
half-measures.

But when an ambush forces Blaze to pull back stateside, the cartel takes
the fight across the border—hitting civilians, targeting officials,
daring him to respond.

Now, it’s personal. This time, it’s not about taking
prisoners—it’s about ending threats. Blaze is coming for
Salazar, and he won’t stop until La Manada is nothing but a smoldering
memory.

About the Author

Bill Runner cut his teeth as an investigative journalist, plunging into the
gritty underbelly of crime, before turning to writing edge-of-your-seat
thrillers. Raised on a steady diet of westerns and lone ranger sagas,
Bill’s real-life encounters with rogues and heroes shaped his
electrifying protagonist, Axel Blaze. An adrenaline junkie at heart, Bill is
a seasoned mountain climber and paraglider, and also a lifelong student of
martial arts. Working the crime beat and studying the art of fighting honed
his skills to craft pulse-pounding thrillers, renowned for their razor-sharp
action sequences. You can find out more about Bill at his FB profile under
the name Bill Runner Author.

Contact Links

Author website

Facebook

Purchase Link

Amazon

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Tagged as Action Adventure; Military thrillers; Vigilante justice, Bill Runner, Warpath

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | April 14, 2025 · 5:00 am

Shattered Compass Reveal

A Memoir of Loss, Escape, and Renewal

Memoir

Date Published: June 11, 2025

Publisher: Acorn Publishing

How does a young woman cope when she cannot speak the truth?

When nineteen-year-old Lenore experiences sexual assault while studying
abroad in Italy, her entire world shifts. Survival becomes the focus of her
daily life, physical illness grabs control of her body, and no one can free
her from her pain. A ghost of herself, she takes the path of denial,
believing it’s the only way to protect her loved ones and herself from
her harsh reality.

On her journey toward peace, she assumes the expected roles of mother and
wife, but a traumatic diagnosis puts her at a crossroads. She must start
living the life she wants or roam her days as a victim in the chaos of fear.
Lenore’s escape through travel allows her to reconcile the
imprisonment she’s suffered over the years.

However, when another family tragedy strikes, Lenore understands she must
finally come to terms with the silence she’s kept. But what if one
incident that happened decades ago is too destructive, too deep to be
excavated? Will she be able to find herself in the rubble? Or will she be
lost forever?

About the Author

Award-winning travel writer Lenore Greiner grew up in Marin County where,
at thirteen, she began her writing journey as a lifelong journal
keeper.

At nineteen, her passion for adventure led her to Italy’s heart to
study at the University for Foreigners in Perugia and immerse herself in the
language and culture. There, the seeds of her memoir were sown.

Lenore has garnered eight prestigious Solas Awards for Best Travel Writing
and was honored in Best American Travel Writing 2013, edited by Elizabeth
Gilbert. Her writing has appeared in The New York Times, Fodor’s
travel guides, and three volumes of Shaking the Tree, an annual anthology
curated by the International Memoir Writers
Association.

A graduate of UC Davis, Lenore married her college sweetheart, and they now
call Southern California home. They share two kids, two kayaks, and too many
rambunctious grandkids.

Contact Links

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Tagged as Lenore Greiner, memoir, Shattered Compass

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | April 9, 2025 · 5:00 am

Sanguine Shadows Blitz

LGBTQ+ Vampire Romance

Date Published: April 11, 2025

This is where everything changes.

Darce has done his best to live off the radar as one of the bloodkind,
keeping himself separate from the company of other vampires and the danger
they court. The cowboy might be lonely in his solitude, but he’s safe.

Raven’s come to change that. He’s come to change everything.

A newly made bloodkind, Raven’s out to shake up the old world order that
oppresses their kind. He carries Darce along in his wake like a leaf on the
tide, pushes and goads and tops from the bottom, inciting Darce to lust,
passion and action. He makes a centuries-old cowboy feel alive again,
something well worth taking risks for.

But when Raven challenges the Sanguine, the most dangerous of all vampires,
has he gone too far?

EXCERPT

All he’d wanted was a quiet drink.

Darce swirled the drop or three of tequila left in his shot glass and
raised it to the guy who tended bar in this backwoods dive. If he had a
name, or if the bar did, Darce didn’t know it and he liked it that way. Tall
and skinny as a pool cue, his head shaved just as bald, he didn’t talk much
and took Darce’s glass with a grunt. Didn’t ask what Darce wanted. You had
your choice here of PBR, Bud, Jose and JD. Like ’em or find somewhere else
to drink.

Tequila suited Darce fine. Didn’t do anything for him, no, his being a dead
man walking and all — vampire, as some might say — but he’d developed a
taste for agave over the years. He held up one finger. Already had two, and
three was one more than his usual.

The bartender shrugged, not giving too much of a damn. Maybe the folks
around here knew what he was. Maybe they didn’t. Knew enough to keep their
mouths shut, anyway.

One more drink in peace and it’d be time to walk. He had a peaceful stretch
of road home, nothing but the cicadas and bullfrogs and the yellow half-moon
to guide him on his way. Nothing to hinder him.

Until the stranger slid onto the bar stool next to Darce and jostled him
like they were old friends, bumping his shoulder. “I’ve got this
one,” he said. Sounded young. “One for me, too.”

The bartender eyed Darce’s new companion.

“I’ll pay my own way,” Darce said; that, and nothing more.

“Ouch. Not too friendly there, cowboy,” the new arrival said. He
swung around to give Darce a bold once-over.

Out of his peripheral vision, Darce got a good enough look at the new kid.
Pretty. Fresh-faced and young, his jaw cut firm and his grin made for
promising wicked deeds in the dark. He had a dusting of freckles on his nose
and cheeks that nearly tempted Darce into a snort of humor because he’d seen
a lot in his time but a vampire with a scattering of pale sepia freckles was
a new one on even him.

“I’m Raven,” the vamp said, offering his hand along with his
unlikely name. Darce snorted quietly. Raven, Silvershadow, Witchlight, Darce
had heard ’em all and believed none. This one would be newly made, then, not
knowing of the rules by which their kind lived. Which were no rules at all,
for the most part, except to watch your back in case someone was sneaking up
to shove a silver knife in it, and most of all to keep to yourself.

“That a fact,” Darce said, not asking it. He caught the shot
glass as the bartender slid it his way, amber drops spilling over the backs
of his fingers.

Raven waited, then laughed under his breath. “And you’re not going to
tell me your name. That’s okay. I already know who you are.”

Darce stilled. That was more than he cared to have bandied about.
“You’d be wise to keep that to yourself. That and your own name. Names
get you in trouble.”

“Do they really,” Raven murmured. He swallowed his drink like a
man with nary a grimace nor a cough. Not new to that game, at least.

Darce shot him a sideways glare. He shook his hair back and slammed the
tequila neat, no salt or lime around here. Damn hair; it’d been long, near
to chin length when he’d come across, and no matter how he cut it back it’d
grow out by the next new moon.

Freckles there had short hair, crisp-cut dark, some kind of gel keeping it
stuck up in spikes that looked sharp enough to prick a finger on. So young
he was damn near veal, and fresh meat for any who cared to take a bite. No
wonder he’d been turned. Someone had wanted to keep him that young and
pretty for good, was Darce’s bet.

And he’d gotten away. Darce wondered how, for a second, then discarded the
question. Not his business. He backslapped his empty shot glass across the
bar and licked his lips to get the last of the burning-hot taste off
them.

“Now there’s a pretty sight,” Raven said, his gaze hot where it
glanced over Darce’s face.

A vampire sometimes liked to pretend to breathe, to mix in all the better,
and for the most part Darce did it well. He drew air in through his nose and
let it out slow and smooth. “You want to watch that kind of talk around
here,” he said. “Matter of fact, you want to keep your mouth
tighter shut overall if you don’t want trouble.”

Raven laughed loud enough to draw a few wary looks. No one who drank in
that backwater Texas dive wanted to draw attention, except this young’un.
“You honestly think you’re fooling anyone?” He lazily drew his
finger around the rim of his shot glass. “Look around you, old man.
Pretty crowded in here tonight for a place like this. I count fifteen heads,
yours and mine and Baldy’s not included, and it’s not a big bar. Yet there’s
an empty space three men deep all around you. No one wants to get too close.
They all know, even if they don’t say. Maybe they don’t want to admit it’s
true, but somewhere inside them they all know what you are — what I am —
and that’s why they leave you be.”

Darce ground his back teeth together. His fangs, folded up against the top
of his mouth usually, rattlesnake-style, slid down and pricked his tongue as
he clamped his jaw shut.

“Must be lonely.” Raven pushed his luck, shifting closer.
“How long’s it been since you traded more than a handful of words with
anyone else? How long have you been around, old man?”

Something cool and firm brushed the top of Darce’s thigh, tantalizingly
close to his groin. He inhaled sharp and quick, and cursed it as a giveaway
that Raven pounced on as sly and quick as a fox.

“If you want,” Raven said, thumbing half an inch away from
Darce’s stiffening cock — it had been a long, long time, whether he’d admit
it out loud or not, “I’ll leave you be. All you have to do is say ‘go,’
and I’ll be out the door.”

“Like hell you would.”

“I think we’re gonna get along, you and me.” Raven stroked higher
up and closer. “You know me already.”

“I know you’re trouble walking on two legs,” Darce said. He
fought with the urge to rise into the teasing pressure. Damn, it’d been half
of forever since someone, anyone, laid a hand on him not in anger or with an
addict’s mindless craving. “I know I want you on your way as fast as
you think you can run.”

“No, you don’t.” Raven’s palm molded over Darce’s cock, his touch
firm and strong as any vampire’s, and for half a moment Darce burned with
curiosity over what this kid’s story was, anyway. What’d shaped him this
way? He forgot that in the next second when Raven moved fast in the way of
their kind, faster than most, his lips brushing Darce’s ear, and said,
“I could leave, or I could take you around back and suck your
dick.” He pierced Darce’s earlobe with one of his fangs, slim and
needle-sharp. “Your choice.”

About the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting
Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and
ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as
ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of
the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always
a work in progress.

Will on Facebook

Will’s website

Will on Etsy

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

Pre-Order Today

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Tagged as LGBTQ+ Vampire Romance, Sanguine Shadows, Will Okati

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | April 6, 2025 · 5:00 am

Proud Outcast Virtual Book Tour

Days of War, Days of Peace, Volume 2

Native American Literature, Biographical Fiction, Western

Date Published: 01-21-2025

Publisher: Hat Creek

Defying betrayal and hardship, Chato fights to save his family and his
people’s rightful place in the West.

As the Apache Wars roar toward their conclusion in the summer of 1886,
renowned Apache army scout and leader Chato joins a delegation of scouts to
Washington, D.C., to meet President Grover Cleveland. Their mission? To
plead their case for the Chiricahua scouts to remain at Fort Apache and
cultivate their lands in peace.

For his unwavering loyalty and service, Chato is awarded a silver medal
from Cleveland, along with the implied promise that the scouts can stay
where they are. However, after Geronimo’s surrender, Chato and his fellow
scouts are instead transported to the harsh confines of Fort Marion,
Florida, as prisoners of war. They, and the Chiricahua people as a whole,
will be deprived of their freedom and their way of life for the next three
decades.

EXCERPT

Excerpt 1 From Introduction

Proud Outcast is the second of two novels about the Apache chief and warrior Pedes-klinje, or as the Mexicans called him, Chato (meaning “Flat Nose”). The first book, Desperate Warrior, covered the years from 1877 to 1886, when Chato often rode with Geronimo as his segundo (second in command) in numerous raids and battles, especially in Mexico, after they escaped San Carlos Reservation in September 1881. During the years in Mexico, Chato lost a wife and two children to Mexican slavery after they were captured during a Rarámuri (aka Tarahumara) Indian attack led by Mexican military on the great Nednhi Chief Juh’s winter camp in January 1883.

Losing his family was a defining event in Chato’s life. He was desperate to get his family back and out of Mexican slavery. Five months after his family was taken, General Crook offered to get them back through high-level negotiations between the Chihuahuan state in Mexico and his big chiefs in Washington. Realizing this was his last, best hope of getting his family back, Chato

vowed allegiance to the Army and to General Crook.

Chato understood that for General Crook’s offer to work in retrieving his family, Geronimo had to stay peaceful on the reservation and not escape to raid in Mexico, Arizona, and New Mexico. He told Geronimo that if he left the reservation, he would destroy Crook’s ability to get their families out of slavery, and he, Chato, would find and drag him back to the San Carlos guardhouse in chains. The White Eyes would imprison him there or on the little land in the western big water, Alcatraz, for years. Geronimo called Chato a traitor and a liar, and when he broke out of Fort Apache Reservation tried to have him killed. They remained enemies until Geronimo’s dying day twenty-four years later.

The lives of Chato and Geronimo show striking similarities. Some historians have called Chato “Geronimo’s doppelgänger.” Although Geronimo was about thirty years older than Chato, they both claimed supernatural powers, rode together on many raids, were on the same reservations at the same time, lost wives and children to Mexican slavery and were deadly rifle shots. Both men became Christians but then left the church to become again believers in the Apache creator god, Ussen. Geronimo was the acknowledged leader of the Chiricahua faction that wanted war to settle differences with the White Eyes. Chato was a major leader of the peace faction that believed peace with the White Eyes was necessary for Chiricahua survival.

Chato’s story of captivity and release to freedom is told in Proud Outcast, which covers the years from 1886 to 1934. During this time, Chato survived betrayal by the Army as a prisoner of war and endured, with his head held high, being treated as an outcast by some of his own People after they were freed. As Desperate Warrior said, Chato’s story is taken from history, but its truth is told through fiction as imaginatively seen through the eyes of Chato, whom Lieutenant Britton Davis, his former commander, described in 1929 as “the finest man, red or white, I ever knew.”

About the Author

W. Michael Farmer combines ten-plus years of research into
nineteenth-century Apache history and culture with Southwest-living
experience to fill his stories with a genuine sense of time and place. A
retired Ph.D. physicist, his scientific research has included measurement of
atmospheric aerosols with laser-based instruments, and he has published a
two-volume reference book on atmospheric effects on remote sensing. He has
also written short stories for anthologies and award-winning essays. His
first novel, Hombrecito’s War, won a Western Writers of America Spur
Finalist Award for Best First Novel in 2006 and was a New Mexico Book Award
Finalist for Historical Fiction in 2007. His other novels include:
Hombrecito’s Search; Tiger, Tiger, Burning Bright: The Betrayals of
Pancho Villa; and Conspiracy: The Trial of Oliver Lee and James Gililland.
His Killer of Witches, The Life and Times of Yellow Boy, Mescalero Apache,
Book 1 won a Will Rogers Medallion Award and was a New Mexico–Arizona
Book Awards Finalist in 2106. Mariana’s Knight, The Revenge of Henry
Fountain won the 2017 New Mexico–Arizona Book Award for Historical
Fiction and Blood of the Devil, The Life and Times of Yellow Boy, Mescalero
Apache, Book 2 was a finalist.

These two novels have also won 2018 Silver Medallion Will Rogers Awards.
Apacheria, True Stories of Apache Culture, 1860-1920 won the 2018 New
Mexico–Arizona Book Award for History-Other (Other than New Mexico or
Arizona), Best New Mexico Book in 2018, a gold medallion in the 2019 Will
Rogers Awards for History-Young Folks, and named one of the twenty best
books on the southwest by the Pima County (Phoenix and surrounding area)
Library System. In 2019 Knight’s Odyssey and Knight of the Tiger won
gold medallions in the Will Rogers Medallion Awards, and Knight of the Tiger
won the 2019 New Mexico-Arizona Book Award for Fiction-Adventure NM.

The author is continuing work on two histories and two novels to be
released in 2019 through 2021 about the captivity and wars of Geronimo.
Geronimo: Prisoner of Lies, Twenty-Three Years as a Prisoner of War is a
history of what happened to Geronimo after he surrendered in 1886 and was
published in October 2019. The Odyssey of Geronimo, a novel about his years
in captivity, will be published in May 2020. The history of Geronimo’s
last ten years of war and peace before his surrender, An Apache Iliad, and
the companion novel, The Iliad of Geronimo, A Song of Blood and Fire are
expected to be published in 2021.

Contact Links

Purchase Links

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Tagged as Biographical Fiction, Native American Literature, Proud Outcast, W. Michael Farmer, western

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | March 6, 2025 · 5:00 am

Tangled in Ribbons Virtual Book Tour

Erotic Romance

Date Published: 11-25-2024

Publisher: Chocolate Cake Reads

On a trip that goes awry from the start,…

Vicky and Michelle, best friends since childhood, rented a cabin for a last
hurrah together before Michelle’s upcoming nuptials. The day of their trip,
Michelle receives an email with proof her fiance cheated on her. The two
women head to the cabin anyway to escape the chaos of a cancelled wedding.
Neither of them expected the cabin to already occupied by three sexy
guys.

Vicky’s snowed in with three hot guys…

When Michelle’s ex shows up unexpectedly to set the story straight and asks
to meet her at a nearby hotel, Vicky gets snowed in with the three men,
where things get even hotter! It starts out as happy fun times, but what
happens when none of them want to let go?

What else is she supposed to do to pass the time other than them?

Read “Tangled in Ribbons” to find out if they salvage their
friendships when jealousies, insecurities, and realities intrude in this
snowed in, why choose adventure.

This is fully consensual, why choose erοtic romance with MFMM and
limited MM action. For a list of sexսal activities included in this book, please check out
https://www.pennyheartbooks.com/#books

Contains extensive explicit sexսal language.

EXCERPT

Chapter 5

Taylor needed to go to his room. He needed alone time after seeing Vicky’s breasts bounce in her sweater every time she moved. It was clear to him she wasn’t wearing a bra, only one of those silky tank top things women sometimes wore under sweaters.

Her breasts swayed in a way that drew his attention, but her nipples were the real giveaway. They were so… pinched in the cold, winter air. It was a surprising challenge to keep his eyes from drifting back to her chest. He could spend hours staring at her breasts, but he wasn’t a creepy asshole, just a regular asshole.

Taylor liked breasts in general. He might describe himself as a breast man, though he found something to like in all women’s bodies. Most of the time, he gravitated towards lithe, lean women with perky, smaller breasts that fit snugly in his hands. Vicky’s were full and heavy, but it was hard to stop himself from staring. When her nipples poked out, it was hard to keep from groaning out loud.

As soon as he got behind his closed door, he would revisit those tits in his mind. Within a few minutes, he’d release his cock from its prison.

For now, he schooled his expression into the charming smile that generally convinced women to do whatever he wanted. It seemed to work, though he wasn’t quite sure why he was so invested in Cole’s little fling.

It was difficult to believe they were talking about snowmobiles. All he could think about was how much he wanted to tit-fuck Vicky and then fuck her throat with his long cock. Taylor wondered about the color of her nipples and if they were big. They were probably big to go with her big tits. Fuck, she had great tits. He could imagine them wrapped around his cock as he—

Fuck. He needed to pay attention and get his mind off her curvaceous body. Even if he did want to know what noises she made when he sucked on those tits.

He had a brief flash of guilt before he squashed it. Vicky made her choice already, and she wasn’t his type anyway. Physically, she was curvier and rounder than the women he went for, but more than that, she was too… confident. Yeah, and too much in control.

That reminder helped him clear his mind a little, and he tuned back into the conversation. Taylor reminded his friends about their scheduled plans, gave the women a reasonable suggestion they’d be stupid to pass up on, and spoke with his friends for a few minutes before they separated. At last, he was on the way to his room to let the beast out.

Cole was suspicious of his motives, and maybe he should be. Yeah, Taylor wanted Cole to get laid, but he would be lying if he said his interest in the voluptuous Vicky—ugh, he hated diminutive names, especially during sex—was entirely for his friend’s pleasure.

He walked casually to avoid drawing attention, and he reminded himself she was too sexually aggressive for his tastes. More power to her, but it wasn’t what he liked. He liked to be the one in control and had no interest in fighting for it with a woman.

Even if it was far too easy to imagine this woman tied up with the holiday ribbons that decorated every damned shelf and stick of furniture in their rental. Christmas was a month away, but the cabin had everything but a Christmas tree. Hell, each of the four posters of his giant bed were wrapped in red ribbon to make them look like candy canes. He could think of better things to do with that ribbon.

Once the thought appeared, all he could think about was her pale skin and long dark hair in contrast against the red ribbon. She’d look fucking gorgeous tied to his bed, her wrists bound in a festive bow and attached to one of the posts. That would be better than his favorite tie. He shut the door and leaned into his fantasy.

Taylor would leave her legs unbound, but maybe another ribbon would work as a gag. Yeah, they’d need something to try to muffle the sounds he knew he could pull from her reactive body. She looked like she’d be a screamer, and he would make it his mission to draw as many screams out of her as she could give.

But no blindfold. At least not the first time. He’d want to see her eyes as he demanded her orgasms. She’d watch as he teased her pussy and plucked at her nipples. He would toy with her body, bringing her to the brink again and again before her come filled his senses and coated his tongue.

The decorating ribbon was too thin to make a good sex aid, but no matter. He had a few lengths of Shibari rope in his suitcase. Though he hadn’t planned to seek out a holiday liaison, something spurred him to toss them in his suitcase at the last second.

Taylor wasn’t heavily invested in the BDSM scene, but he enjoyed bondage. He also knew more than basic and intermediate knots and harnesses. It appealed to his need to manage every aspect of sex, and he got off on the visual of a restrained or bound woman.

He was grateful he brought the rope, until he remembered Vicky had already chosen Cole. While he knew Cole wasn’t serious about her, he also knew his friend wouldn’t pursue a casual relationship lightly, regardless of what he said.

“Besides,” he reminded himself under his breath, “she’s not my type. Yeah, she’s sexy as fuck, but I want control, and she seems far too bossy. Unless she’s the type who needs someone else to take control and tell her what to do for a little while. Hmmm. That could work. She did seem damned stressed. I could ease her burdens for a while with my rope and my cock.”

Taylor grew harder the more he thought about Vicky tied to his bed and at his mercy. He imagined her big eyes, wide with excitement, as he explained the steps of the simple handcuffs he would make. His mind conjured the image of his dark red rope against her creamy, pale skin. Maybe he’d wrap her waist and luscious tits, too.

His cock strained, and he palmed it through his pants as his thoughts stayed on her voluptuous breasts. He wasn’t used to this. Most of the women he fucked were thin and had smaller tits and ass, but Vicky looked like she’d be a handful. And her tits looked real, firm yet soft. Her nipples were prominent when she first entered the cabin the previous night, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them.

And then there was Vicky’s ass. Taylor never obsessed about asses much at all, but hers made him reconsider. If her hands were tied to the bed, he’d have to make sure he could turn her over and fuck her from behind while he played with her round ass. Spanking wasn’t a favorite, but he couldn’t stop thinking about his red handprints decorating her pale globes.

“Damn it,” he grumbled as he unzipped his fly and grabbed his cock.

Why was he thinking about her? He wouldn’t be able to fuck Vicky. If anybody was going to fuck her, it was Cole. And the guy needed it more than he did. Taylor would be stuck with his hand and imagination. However, his imagination was already filled with images of the sexy winter siren and what he would do with her, his ropes, and a few hours alone.

In his mind, Vicky stretched beautifully across his bed, with her perky breasts seductively and artfully wrapped by the soft cotton of his bondage rope. Her arms arched above her head, and she spread her legs to welcome him into her body. He gave her a carnal kiss before he gagged her with the shiny red ribbon adorning his headboard.

Now, he wouldn’t have to share her cries of ecstasy with the others.

He stroked himself as he envisioned teasing her skin with his hands, but right as he reached her dripping pussy, a knock sounded on his door. Startled, he shoved his cock back into his pants and zipped up. Taylor assumed one of his friends was on the other side of the door.

To his surprise, the object of his fantasies stood in his doorway.

“Hi,” Vicky said in a chirpy voice as he swung the door all the way open, “I wanted to—”

She smirked when her eyes landed on his erection, which grew harder the longer she stared at him.

Instead of hiding his lower body behind the door, he stretched his arms above him and leaned his upper body into the door frame. His biceps tugged at the arms of his shirt while his erection pressed against the zipper he tugged only halfway up when she interrupted.

Taylor knew it was a dick move, and he intended to intimidate her, but Vicky didn’t seem bothered at all. Instead, she licked her lips and dragged her eyes across his body. He hardened further as she caressed him with her heated gaze. Her smile turned coy.

“Why are you here?” he barked at her.

He wasn’t a great guy, but he would never betray one of his oldest friends. Taylor needed her gone before his cock decided it was in charge.

“Huh? Oh, uh, I wanted to see if you were still willing to allow us to stay this week, or if it was a spur of the moment idea you’ve since regretted.”

“I’m a man of my word.”

“I’ll bet you are,” she purred. “I can help you with that problem you’ve got going on there,” she said as she nodded towards his crotch and licked her lips.

He narrowed his eyes at her. “What the fuck are you doing? Are you flirting with me? I thought you and Cole already had a thing going.”

She shrugged and moved close enough to trace one of the buttons on his shirt. “We both know it’s nothing serious. It’s not like we’re in a relationship after making out for ten minutes. Both of us are free to pursue other opportunities.”

“Does he know that?”

Vicky beamed at him. “I like how much you care about your friend. I like it a lot, and I think I could like you a lot, too. We could have fun, too, you and I.”

“Is Vicky your real name, or is it a nickname?”

“It’s Victoria, but I go by Vicky most of the time outside of work. Why?”

Taylor used his larger size to press her back against the door frame and leaned into her body. He grabbed the back of her neck and gently squeezed it before he bent his head until his mouth was inches from hers. His nose skimmed along her jawline and cheek in a deliberate fashion.

Her mouth parted in preparation for his kiss, but he drew back instead.

“Because, Victoria, you and I won’t be having any fun together until Cole knows the score. If he’s cool with sharing his toys, then you and I can explore this… heat between us.”

Taylor brought the hand on her neck closer to her throat and stroked her soft skin. His other hand yanked her body closer to his. When he rubbed her against his straining erection, he also squeezed her neck. She let out a gasp which turned into a moan when he tightened his hold on her neck. Her eyes flared.

Vicky clutched his ass and pulled him tighter against her. He drew back again, and she whimpered in dismay. She tried to rub against his cock, and he pulled further away.

“No,” he said in a stern voice. He watched her as he spoke. “If we do this, I call the shots. Not you. With those tits, I’m sure you’re used to getting your way, but I am, too. And I’m bigger, stronger, and willing to hold you down or tie you up to get my way.”

He smiled when her nipples beaded, and her breathing increased. She was excited about what he said, but he needed her words.

“How does that sound to you? Would you be able to submit to me? Give yourself over to me? Do what I tell you to do?”

“What do you mean, exactly? Are you one of those Dom guys? Is this a BDSM thing?”

She looked wary now. Good.

“Not really, no. It turns me on to be in charge, but I’m not into pain or serious discipline. Nothing hardcore. I like tying up my partners, telling them what to do”—his voice dropped, and he leaned closer to her—“and then sucking and fucking until they come so many times, they soak the bed.”

She hissed a breath.

“Oh, and a little choking and biting,” he said as he stroked the side of her throat. “Maybe some spanking, too. What do you think? Would you like that?”

Vicky’s eyes shone brightly as she let out another whimper.

“Yes, yes, I like that idea a lot.”

“Then you know what you need to do. Talk to Cole and make sure it’s fine with him if you spend time with both of us. But make no mistake, Victoria,” he leveled a serious look at her, “if he’s not okay with it, you and I are not happening.”

About the Author

I write sexy books about kissing, happy ever afters, and the drama in
between.

I live in the southern US with my husband, kids, and a cat who rules the
house. I spend way too much time on the computer, and only some of it is
looking at NSFW memes or reading romance novels.

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