Coming July 6, 2010
You’ve seen them. Looking for trouble, and looking irresistible, riding into town, straddling 73 cubic inches of throbbing horsepower.
Boys so bad it takes a special kind of woman to satisfy them.
But some women are made for high speed handling…
Lora Leigh, the New York Times bestselling author of Nauti Intentions and Nauti Dreams revisits that sultry and “sinfully good”* Southern landscape with a story of a good girl gone bad--and doing it for all the hottest reasons. But she’s not the only one going down that road…
Jaci Burton, the national bestselling author of Riding Wild and Riding Temptation, lets loose in a story of a hot biker hired to keep an eye on the reckless daughter of a Nevada senator. She’s hooked up with a rival biker gang--a dangerous move that makes the wild beauty more vulnerable than she imagined…
ADULT EXCERPT by Lora Leigh ©...(unedited)
He'd no more than shot that one back, then son of a bitch, the door opened again.
And there she was.
Imp. The little demon sprite. The torment of his life. Too fucking young, but getting a head start on experienced.
He'd caught her in bed with one of his father's friends years before, and still fought the memory. She'd been sleeping like a baby, while the bastard beside her had been fondling her.
He didn't hold it against her. Hell, he'd done worse in his sexual past, but it burned in his gut like a sore.
"Go home Sierra." He was too drunk for this. He'd had his life nicely planned out and as much as he felt relief that it was over, still, it had been his plan, and she'd fucked it up.
"I don't want you to hate me." She was braver than Marlena. She actually stepped into the main room and faced him boldly.
With her hard nipples.
With her lush lips and hungry slate gray eyes.
"Why the hell did you have to make it your business?" He growled.
"Because I care about you," she whispered. "You're my friend John. When Gerard asked me to the restaurant I knew what he was doing. They were going to stand and lie to your face, and I hated that."
"Bullshit," he snapped. "You're not my fucking friend Sierra. Friends gloat later, they don't give a fuck if you make a mistake while you're making it."
Her lips thinned. He liked the lush look better.
"Then marry her already," she charged back in anger. "If you're so pissed at me, get down on your knees and beg her back. I'm sure she'll be more than happy to watch you beg."
"Like hell." His cock was pounding, hard and desperate. She always affected him like this, and now the alcohol was only intensifying it. He never drank around Sierra for a reason. It totally screwed with his self control.
"Why did you even fucking care?" he couldn't get it out of his mind. No one else would have told him, and he knew Gerard. Gerard hadn't hid it from anyone but John.
"Because I care about you, dummy," she burst out in exasperation. "Do I have to beat that into your head?"
It was more. He saw it in her eyes at the restaurant and he saw it now.
"You're jealous," he accused her softly, the truth slapping him in the face. "You think you're in love with me? Have you lost your mind Sierra?"
"I did that a long time ago." Her voice was husky now, her eyes glittering with dampness.
"Don't you dare cry." He moved to her, jerking her against him.
Big mistake, but there she was, against him. So fucking young and too damned tiny. And he was hungry for her.
"I didn't want this with you," he snarled down at her. She was too soft for what he wanted and he knew it. Too vulnerable, even if she was experienced enough for it. But he was drunk. He was hard for her. And he'd fought it for too damned long.
He didn't give her a chance to retort. His head lowered, his lips taking hers quickly, parting the lush curves as he slid one hand into the riotous curls that surrounded her face and gripped the soft strands to hold her to him.
The taste of her, the adrenaline and hunger coursing through his veins only made him more drunk. Drunk on her. He'd known touching her would be hazardous, and how right he had been.
Growling at the surge of lust tearing through him he dropped the empty glass to the floor and gripped the slender strap of her dress to drag it over her arm. It would only go so far. He couldn't find the zipper. It wasn't at her back. He didn't want to look for it.
The sound of the material rending didn't faze him, what it did do was give him entrance to the bodice of her dress and the swollen curves of her breasts, the tight, hard nipples topping them.
His lips slid down her neck, moving for those tight little berries. The feel of them against his tongue sent a groan tearing from his chest.
Sucking one into his mouth he laved it with his tongue and loved it with his mouth as he lowered his hand again, this time to his slacks.
If he didn't release his cock he was going to go insane. It pressed against the zipper of his pants, demanding to be set free. Like a ravenous beast it throbbed and pulsed at the confinement, silently demanding attention.
As he released it, his lips pulled back.
His hand tightened in her hair as his gaze centered on her lips and he pressed her downward.
Sierra lost her breath at the silent demand in his face, his gaze as he tugged her lower. She knew what he wanted. With one hand he gripped her fingers and dragged them to the heavy length of hardened flesh. She couldn't wrap her fingers around it, but her mouth watered to take it.
"I've dreamed of you sucking my dick," he groaned as she went slowly to her knees in front of him.