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  His lopsided grin made her heart do a flip-flop. The dimple in the center of his chin kept him from being too beautiful, and lent him a roguish appeal. She’d never been able to hold a grudge against him. His boyish charm was infectious and got him out of all sorts of scrapes.

  “I didn’t sneak up on you. You seemed lost in thought. You remembering us?”

  “Remembering what?” she deadpanned.

  He arched an eyebrow. “Remember who you’re talkin’ to, missy. I knew all your secrets.”

  Including one big fat secret that had spelled the end of all her dreams. “And you blabbed them to your brothers. You shouldn’t have told, Josh.”

  “I am truly sorry about that. It wasn’t the time. I know that now.”

  “There was never a right time for what we did,” she whispered harshly. She glanced blindly around, looking for a telephone. “Dammit, I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to use your phone.”

  Josh’s gaze slid away, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, there’s gonna be a slight problem with that…”

  She swung back. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, Ezra removed all the phones from the house.”

  “What?”

  Josh reached behind him and pulled something from his pocket. When he held up a screwdriver, he gave her a sheepish shrug. “I was in charge of disablin’ your car.”

  Her eyes widened, and her heart began to thump hard inside her chest. “And Cade?” she asked, her tightening throat. “What was his part?”

  “Oh, Cade was in charge of gettin’ the room ready for you.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “We’re kidnappin’ you, kitten.” His grin was wide, joyous even.

  She stared at him like he’d grown two heads. “Are you insane?” she shouted. “You’ll be arrested!”

  “Only if you press charges. We’re hopin’ you won’t.”

  She shook her head, dumbfounded. Her face was hot, her stomach lurching. Hadn’t this been exactly what she’d been afraid of? “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

  His grin vanished. “Through here,” he said, grabbing her hand and pulling her toward the bathroom just off the entrance.

  Chrissi accepted the push of his hand at the back of her neck, bending over the bowl to empty her stomach. When she straightened, he handed her a moistened washcloth.

  “Not the reaction we expected,” he said quietly as she washed her hot face.

  “What the hell did you expect?” she said, embarrassed and aiming a deadly glare his way.

  Josh shrugged. “A lot of hollerin’.”

  “Ya think? Take me home.”

  He drew in a slow breath, all expression draining from his face. In place of his usual, affable smile, his tight features resembled Ezra’s more than she would have believed. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. We made a pact.”

  “A pact?” She knew she was echoing him, sounding stupid, but she still couldn’t get her head around what was happening to her.

  “All or nothin’,” he said, nodding.

  “All of what?”

  “Us.”

  Four people. One rope. Desire plunged into dangerous obsession.

  Dark Empress

  © 2011 Anitra Lynn McLeod

  Onic Empire, Book 5

  Errion Ald’Areed senses that his business partner’s passion for designing pleasure upgrades for service robots has cooled, but nothing he’s tried—men, women, exotic adventures—has lifted Lorren D’Buren’s ennui. Until he sees the look in Lorren’s eyes when the intergalactic ambassador from Diola crosses their path at a charity ball.

  Under the watchful eye of Gabriyel, her faithful bodyguard, Farjika is determined to live down her empress mother’s scandalous reputation for taking multiple lovers. Her instant attraction to Lorren, though, tempts her to cross her self-imposed bounds of propriety. And Gabriyel is shocked that his level-headed mistress has fallen so easily into a torrid affair.

  At first Errion is pleased that Farjika has roused Lorren out of his funk. When he notices the depth of the mutual fascination, though, he realizes he must act quickly—or lose his sometime lover and best friend.

  His plan to eliminate the threat is perfect in its beautiful complexity. Until one snag in his delicate web of seduction plunges them all into a potentially deadly tangle with no way out…

  Warning: Contains humor, masturbatory robots, mystical BDSM, stern punishments and more variations on m/m/m/f than the author can count. Sex toys are not included with purchase but are strongly recommended.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Dark Empress:

  “Tell me, my lovely one, what do you hope to accomplish here on Avalith?” Errion knew the question was a light one. Any visitor would have a stock answer ready to spew out to satisfy any who asked, yet Farjika actually considered his question.

  Lifting her gaze to capture his, she softly informed him, “My world is isolated. We have been so for many hundreds of thousands of seasons. I hope by coming here, to Avalith, and donating a large portion of funds, to show the galactic community that we are concerned with our brethren. That we wish to break free from our self-imposed seclusion.”

  Errion wanted to capture her mouth, cutting off her words long before she could finish speaking them. Not only was she utterly lovely, but she was kind and sweet. Worse, she had a conscience. She wasn’t just repeating words she’d been told to say, she honestly believed in what she said. Red flashes of warning went off behind his eyes. This woman was dangerous. Farjika truly could sway Lorren from any path he might be on, and she could do it without much effort. Farjika was a woman who could steal a man’s soul without intention. Raylor’s bursting balls, but she’d effortlessly stolen Errion’s attention and yet seemed utterly unaware!

  As he drew her into the main room, her gaze slid around, appreciating the paintings, sculptures, rugs and the furniture. She finally settled her gaze on Errion. “I am impressed by your estate. You clearly have a unique turn toward art.”

  He nodded, offering her a drink, which she cupped lightly in her hand.

  “How long will you stay on Avalith?”

  She took a sip to give herself time to think of her answer, and he realized she honestly didn’t know. Her hesitation worried him. His gut told him her stay depended on what happened with Lorren.

  “I find I am intrigued by your planet. I would like to stay and learn more about your culture even after my official visit has come to a close.”

  As she spoke, he noticed she kept taking surreptitious glances at one sculpture in particular. He had to work hard to suppress a lusty grin.

  “Where are you staying?” Casually, he maneuvered himself across the room until he was standing near the life-sized rendering of an intricately bound woman. Between her parted legs, a man thrust deeply into her. The woman’s head was bowed in submission; however, her face was still visible as her hair was drawn away. The man’s head was flung back in ecstasy, his lips peeling away from his teeth with an artfully captured snarl of possession.

  “I am staying in my skip.” When he tilted his head, she offered, “A small planet-safe ship while my larger spacecraft remains in orbit.” She took another sip of her drink that turned into more of a gulp when she drew her eyes away from him and the erotic rendering. “Master D’Buren graciously offered one of his fallow fields to station the craft.”

  “Lorren’s father is always so generous with visiting dignitaries.” Usually so he could finagle an exclusive marketing contract for his robotic servants. Wouldn’t he be surprised when he realized Diola had no desire for mechanization? “Is something wrong?”

  Darting her gaze to the entwined figures, then away, she whispered, “Are all of your statues so explicit?”

  Errion laughed.

  Her head stayed low as her gazed traveled up. She seemed unsure if he were laughing at her or at what she’d said.

  “Explicit?” He chuckled as he slapped his hand to the
man’s muscular ass. “He’s fucking her as she wishes.”

  Eyes widening at the vulgarity, Farjika cupped the fragile glass, which trembled in her hand. He could tell she struggled with the idea of whether she should say something or not. In the end, her curiosity got the better of her. Darting her gaze around to ensure they were alone, she asked, “If she wants him, then why is she bound?”

  The woman’s arms were artfully tied behind her back, and she used them to leverage herself up. Her legs embraced the man who had his head back in the throes of release.

  Lowering his gaze, pinning her where she stood, Errion murmured, “She is bound because she finds pleasure in giving control to the man.” Softly, he asked, “Haven’t you ever let a lover tie you up?”

  Farjika’s gaze met his, her pupils dilating. In that moment, he saw the hunger in her eyes. A dark hunger for something that Lorren would never give her but Errion could.

  Before she could answer, he deftly removed his jacket, tossing it casually on a nearby chair. “I would think a future empress would be well schooled in the art of lust.” He turned, giving her an excellent view of his bulging trousers. Pleasure rippled across his tense muscles when she looked down then quickly away. Slowly and deliberately, he looked at her chest, making sure she saw him looking. He noticed her nipples pressed tightly against the fabric, twin bits of tightened flesh. “I understand that on Diola, sex is practically your religion.”

  “That is not true.” She frowned at what he’d said. Her displeasure deepened when she noticed the way he was looking at her. Setting her drink upon the closest table, she said, “Sadly, many seem to think that it is, but I assure you—”

  “How did it feel when he slid his tongue into you?”

  Caught off guard by the question, she sputtered in shock, then turned her gaze around the room again. “Where is Lorren?”

  Running his finger down the rope that bound the woman’s breasts, he murmured, “He’s a little tied up at the moment.”

  He could tell that Farjika was trying to determine if he were being literal or not.

  “I think I should go.” Her skirt flared around her legs as she spun toward the door.

  “Without a word to Lorren? That’s hardly courteous behavior,” he scoffed, continuing to stroke the rope that trailed down the woman’s torso. The metal felt cool below the heat of his hand. “Especially after all the trouble he went to for you.”

  She stopped in midstride, apparently thinking over what she should do. He’d hit his mark well; she did not wish to appear ungracious or rude, not to the object of her affection.

  Frankly, he didn’t mind getting another look at the back of her dress and her hair, which was startlingly similar to the rope on the statue. Farjika would look exquisite bound, and binding would only heighten her awareness of her body. Already he could picture how he would drape the silk rope around her frame using various lengths of crimson cord that would highlight the color of her skin. Deliberately, he would place the knots to give her the greatest pleasure. To have her bound and at his mercy was such a heady prospect, he couldn’t stop thinking of the ways he could pose her. Of course, if he acted on his cravings, Lorren would kill him.

  “Lorren will join us shortly.” Errion had carefully arranged the evening so that he would have a chance to be alone with Farjika. He tossed off his drink and set the empty aside. Crossing the parlor, his bare feet silent on the thick carpet, he moved until he was standing right behind her.

  Glancing over her shoulder, she drew a short breath. “What are you doing?”

  Touching her with only his breath when he hungered to do so much more, he said, “I’m admiring your dress.” Goose bumps washed along the backs of her arms. “Did he slide his finger into you?”

  She closed her eyes, her lips parting with shock, but then she asked, “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because I’m curious.” Fearing that she might bolt, he placed his hands gently on her shoulders. Not holding her but reminding her that she should stay. “Tell me how good it felt to have him on his knees, worshiping you with his mouth.”

  She shook her head in denial, but he could see her nipples straining against the fabric of her bodice. Standing this near, he felt her heat rise, giving off more of her delightful fragrance. Slowly, carefully, he maneuvered her around until she faced the erotic statue while he stood behind her.

  “Look at her face.” Lowering his lips to the edge of her ear, he whispered, “Look at the pleasure she derives from submission.” Pressing his cock against the split of her bottom caused her to gasp, but she didn’t move away. “Even bound, she strains to meet his thrust.”

  Trailing his hands from her shoulders to the top of her dress, he slid his fingertips along the edge of the fabric that encircled her chest. Involuntarily she arched, pressing her breasts up to meet his touch and forcing her bottom into closer contact with his cock. Her firm softness through the layers of fabric was far more arousing than actual contact could ever be.

  Errion took a deep breath to steady himself. “Tell me the truth, Farjika, you’ve never thought about being bound before tonight?”

  “No.” Her answer came out swiftly, forcefully and almost defensively.

  “But now, it’s all you can think about.”

  Her lips parted in automatic denial, but she closed them ever so slowly, her head shaking back and forth, her delicately arched brows lowered in confusion.

  “Imagine yourself as that woman.”

  Her gaze went instinctively toward the statue.

  “Silky rope binds your arms behind your back, putting you at the mercy of the man before you.” He hesitated then decided he would have only one chance to plant the seed, so he forged ahead. He grabbed her wrists before she could react and pulled them behind her back. When she dropped her head, exhaling a long whimpering sigh of surrender, she said more than words ever could.

  Hit the erotic jackpot.

  Sin City

  © 2010 Lacey Alexander

  Hot in the City, Book 2

  Diana Marsh is trying to change her wicked ways. She’s even dating a guy everyone agrees is prime husband material—conservative and boring, everything her family could wish for. There’s only one secret vice left to eliminate: Marc Davenport, the super sexy co-worker she’s been flirting with online. A business trip to Las Vegas is her opportunity to do just that, to sow the last of her wild oats with Marc before retiring behind the white picket fence. And where better than the ultra-erotic playground of Sin City?

  A new job awaits Marc in France, and a casual fling with Diana is the perfect send-off—together they indulge in every conceivable hot and scintillating fantasy the town has to offer. Even if her resolve to turn off her sensual nature bothers Marc, he reminds himself that their naughty games are only temporary and she’s a determined woman with a plan.

  However, when the two are ripped apart without warning, all bets are off. To Marc, Diana’s wild side is too beautiful to be contained. Too beautiful, he suddenly realizes, to let him walk away without playing to win.

  Warning: Contains a full deck of erotic delights and a heroine who's holding all the cards—three of a kind and everything’s wild. Who says the house always wins?

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Sin City:

  Diana Marsh had just switched off the light next to her bed when the phone rang. She reached out in the darkness and put the receiver to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Hey, it’s me.” Marc Davenport, her work associate and long-distance friend. Or was he more than a friend?

  Their office-to-office work calls had gotten longer and more flirtatious recently, and hearing his voice made her smile in the dark. “Hey.”

  “You sound sleepy—were you asleep? Damn, what time is it there? I totally forgot about the time difference.”

  “It’s—” she switched on the light and sought out her bedside clock, “—just after eleven, but that’s okay. I only went to bed a few minutes ago.” In fact, she’d dec
ided to turn in after she’d given up on him calling, thinking maybe he’d decided it was a bad idea.

  “Are you sure, sweetheart?”

  So simple, one little word—sweetheart. Despite herself, just the sound of the endearment, delivered in his rich baritone, made her breasts ache a little, her pussy tingle with a hint of awareness. “Yeah, I’m sure. I want to talk.”

  It was a first for them—a call outside the office. But the workload had been light today and a phone call to ask her opinion on the wording of an entry in the fall catalog had turned into a phone call about a hundred other things: movies they’d seen lately, music they listened to, Marc’s hopes of moving to Europe for a while, and even the guy Diana was currently seeing—although she’d tried to steer away from that topic quickly. Before they’d finally hung up, Marc had said, “Hey, why don’t I call you later tonight? We can talk some more.”

  She’d agreed, thinking it was safe, harmless. Just a little fun, just talking with a friend—a friend that sent frissons of heat echoing through her veins more and more lately.

  But she couldn’t think about that—in fact, she had to stop those feelings before they got out of control.

  Because Diana was done being the black sheep of the family, finished being the Class A Bad Girl she’d been her whole life. She was cleaning up her act, playing it safe for a change.

  Surely a late night call from a…friend wouldn’t interfere with that?

  “I thought maybe you’d forgotten,” she said, “or decided not to call.”

  “No way, sweetheart—you know I love to hear your pretty voice. I’d have called earlier, but I just got home.”

  “I hope you weren’t at the office all this time.” Marc worked at the company’s corporate headquarters in Las Vegas, where she calculated the time to be after eight.