Happy Hump Day, my lovelies!
How is your week going so far? Mine is busy. Busy, busy, busy…
I’ve been chained to my computer writing Book Two, Dark & Dazzling. Z, being the cynical princess that he is, has been making my life difficult. So today, as a treat for all of us, I’m posting a teaser excerpt from Fierce & Fabulous which will be released by Carina Press in June.
This is the first meeting between Ansel & Fitch.
I hope you enjoy it.
“So who wants to go first?” He slipped the bills off the table and surreptitiously counted them before tucking the pile into the waist of his shorts.
They all giggled. The birthday girl’s eyes darted up to focus on something behind Ansel.
“Hey, big bro,” she said.
“Meg.” The deep timbre shivered down Ansel’s spine.
The warning was so clear in that one single syllable. But the birthday girl didn’t seem to care. Her smile widened, and she looked into Ansel’s eyes with sly calculation.
Ansel lifted himself out of the chair in what he hoped was a tantalizing motion and flicked his hair over his shoulder as he spun to face the newcomer.
His breath hitched. Damn, the guy was hot.
A big bear with a strong, square, scruffy jaw and deep-set dark eyes. Older, maybe thirty, but sexy in a way that would only increase with age. He was tall, maybe even taller than Ansel—when he wasn’t wearing heels. He had big shoulders and arms and was clearly fit. He had on a worn blue T-shirt that clung to his upper body and made Ansel’s mouth water.
Most clearly of all, he was not happy about the situation. His mouth was a grim line as he stared down at his sister.
“Hello, handsome,” Ansel said, trying to draw his attention. “Why don’t you sit down?” He gestured to the empty chair.
Their eyes met and his heart stalled.
Normally he loved the thrill of reeling in the straight ones, of never knowing if you’d end up flat on your ass or bent over moaning. But he suddenly felt like he’d just collided with the most dangerous man in the world—and he didn’t like it one bit.
In fact, he was fighting the urge to run for cover. Then the man glanced at Ansel’s mouth and his nostrils flared.
The temptation to flee morphed into one hot ball of fuck-me-now, and Ansel almost stumbled back with the force of it. Before he could do or say anything, the stranger clenched his jaw and looked back at his sister.
“No.” The stranger’s voice was deep and gravelly like sandpaper, and it sent goose bumps over Ansel’s skin.
“Come on, Fitch. It will be fun, and it’s my birthday,” Meg said.
“Damn it, Meg.”
“Seriously, it’s just a lap dance. It’s not like I’m asking you to kill a puppy.”
“A lap dance—from a guy.”
As always, I adore you.