Excerpt Monday

Bria and Mel have been wrangling up writers to participate in Excerpt Monday for I don’t know how long. It’s been a while though. I’ve been fighting the force. Yes, they are like Jedi’s with the amount of people they convince every month to participate. But then I’m a sucker for a cause. They sent out a call to beat a record. Hence, me participating this month. *the stuff in paranthesis is the heat level.)

Other folks who are participating:

Lauren Murphy – Erotic Romance (NC-17)

Inez Kelley – Romantic Comeday (R)

Maya Dole – Paranormal Romance (R)

Adelle Laudan – Contemporary Romance (PG-13)

Elise Logan – Fantasy Romance (R)

Below is my excerpt. It’s from an unpubbed novel I have called Everything You Need.  Contemporary Romnace. And, my entire site is R rated.

*****

“You don’t see the stars like this on the mainland,” Hazel said out loud, though she had thought it in her head. She laughed and found herself against him.

“I think you’ve had one martini too many.”

She laughed again and tilted her head up to his. Brice’s eyes were dark as a forest in the moonlight.

“Probably, but it feels good. I don’t have to go into work tomorrow. I don’t have to listen to Maureen bitch and moan about the Victorian era having more class than the Regency era.” He frowned and she giggled this time. “Never mind. I’m talking work and I’m supposed to be on vacation.”

“You never said why you were on vacation.”

“I’m washed up.” The melancholy came in the instant the words left her mouth. “I’m twenty-seven and already I’m washed up with a crappy career.”

Her face warmed all of sudden and then Hazel realized Brice had cupped her face in his palms. “You’re not washed up. Not from what I hear.”

She squinted to see him in the nonexistent light. “Hazel Garvey, prodigy or hype? I can see the headlines now.”

She didn’t like the way the look he’d given her made her feel. It felt too deep, too intimate for just meeting him. She stepped back from the informal comfort he’d given. She walked in front of him, the silver shoes swinging on her fingertips.

“I can see the headlines now,” she repeated.

“Not everyone can be successful overnight,” she heard him say though, Hazel wasn’t sure if the comment had been directed at her.

“You still haven’t told me about you? Not in detail at least.” She started to walk backwards. Her feet sank into the soft sand and it almost felt better than his hands on her face. Almost, being the operative word.

He stopped walking for some reason and grabbed the material beneath the seam under her breast. “You’ve had one too many martinis.”

“You’ve already said that, and I still want to know about you? Right now you seem a mystery. I’m the boring one, spilling my guts.”

“Not boring, intoxicated.”

Lonely, she silently added and the melancholy bordered on depression. She didn’t know this man. For all she knew he could be a reporter disguising himself as a house renovator. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had stooped low to get the scoop on her. Hazel’s upbringing was made for the headlines. The hum in her veins suppressed the dour memories.

“Now tell me the truth,” she started, still staring up at the sky, not able to make eye contact with him again. Not with the memories brimming so close to the surface. “Why did you ask me on a date?”

“You’re pretty.”

“I know.” She heard him chuckle in the dark.

“Modest, I see.”

“No need to be when you know your worth.”

“How do you do that?”

“By stop proving yourself to others and just accepting who you are.”

The warmth came back to her face and she realized she’d closed her eyes. She opened them and Brice’s face hovered over hers. His eyes had gone serious again. She really liked that about him. He went playful to dire in the matter of seconds.

“Now how do you do that?”

“Stop fighting what you should be and just be.”

“That’s all it takes?”

His words were soft, but Hazel felt like the question had been asked as if someone’s life or death was on the line. “Yes.”

“You’re not pretty up close.”

Her mouth fell open. “Wow. Thanks. That’s what every woman wants to hear.”

He rubbed his thumb across her cheekbones. “I’m starting to think you’re not every woman.”

“Damn straight.” She smiled up at him.

His eyes no longer held the seriousness, nor did they hold the playfulness. Her feet refused to budge like she stood in quicksand. His hands moved to her hair and she let out the breath she’d been holding. Her heart sped up at the anticipation. He was going to kiss her. The moment was primed for it. Her skin tingled with the knowledge of his closeness. She closed her eyes and then his lips were on hers.

She moaned out of instinct, knowing how this moment could turn into more. A heat spread in her chest and down to her core. She moaned again and pressed her thighs together as the heat built to something else, something new. It made her want. It made her yearn for the warmth emanating from him. She pressed closer against him until her breasts overwhelmed the vee line of the dress. The fabric cut into her skin.

When was the last time she’d been kissed like this? In the depths of her haze filled mind the answer came—never. His tongue flitted over her bottom lip, ripping another moan from her throat. She balled her hands into her dress and held on. The ride his mouth and tongue took her on only allowed for that one forethought—just hold on. His goatee tickled the corners of her mouth and she moaned again not able to stop the sound from welling deep within her.

His hands had moved to the seams of her dress and she felt them give at his strong embrace. His manhood pressed firm, hard against her stomach reminded her this kissed could turn into so much more than mouths meeting together in the night.

She moaned again at the thought of it and at the silent command her body obeyed. She kept her eyes closed and let her tongue lave each hot, wet crevice of his mouth until the taste him took over the remnants of vodka still there. He tasted of scotch and sin and of the wet dreams she was sure to have later, because this kiss couldn’t turn into more. No, it couldn’t turn into deep, satisfying fulfillment because she wasn’t like every woman. She wanted more than his body would give her. She wanted like this before and it had ended in bitter tears and her broken heart. Not again.

But, oh, how she wanted to be like any woman if what he was doing with his mouth…She moaned once last time and stepped back.

“Thank you for dinner.” Her voice surprisingly sounded smooth and calm, unlike the erratic beating of her heart.

She licked her lips and tasted the scotch and then him again. That taste would forever be branded on her tongue.

His hands relaxed against the smooth material of her dress. “We’re outside your door.”

She couldn’t decipher his thoughts because his eyes were still dark as the night surrounding them. She wanted to raise her pelvis to meet the hard length of him against her stomach. Hazel took another step back and her foot hit the doorstep. “We can’t do this again.”

“I know.”

“So it’s been fun.”

“I know,” he repeated.

She let out a breath that seemed too full of regret to her own ears. “Good night.”

She unlocked the door and didn’t bother to turn around. God knows she would have changed her mind if she did.