He has to have her before his lust consumes him.
All George wants is one night with the enchanting Vera Cross. She is the reason and the answer to his tormented dreams. One touch, one kiss, one sigh from her foxy lips, and the hungry beast burning within will give her everything she desires. But as his dreams become reality, George soon learns that the keeper of his heart is not at all what she seems . . .
As Vera lures George into a twisted web of pleasure beyond his most torrid dreams, his dark past lurks within shadow, waiting for the moment to strike. But George loves Vera, and his infatuation will never succumb. If he gives her every dirty little thing she craves, will Vera free him from hell?
If Vera Cross really loved him, she would free him from his twisted hell.
For five years George loved her unconditionally.
For five years he imagined how it would feel to be inside her.
Vera’s presence made time stand still while he waited with as much patience as a shark catching that first scent of blood in the water. Her every move, every word, every look felt like an extension of his own body, his own mind, his very soul. She unleashed a burning craze in him every time he heard the click of her heels on the polished tiled floors. He couldn’t handle the loneliness any longer. Couldn’t bear to spend another night without her by his side.
“Tell me what you need, Mr. Bradley,” she said, her sexy voice making his pulse race.
I need you, Vera. He smiled to himself, knowing that if she gave him the chance, he would make her happy . . . in every single dirty way.
The long sweep of her charcoal lashes cloaked the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Blue like a freshwater lake beneath a glacier, vivid against her alabaster skin and jet-black hair. Ripe in all the right places, her body should’ve been replicated into a sculpture, for his eyes only. With endless curves and slopes to make a man hungry for action, she defined a cock-teasing goddess. He felt utterly compelled to lick the glossy leather of the plain black heels encasing her tiny feet.
He wanted it all.
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For those who still prefer a print copy in hand, this story, along with several others will release in print next month!
Passion has no boundaries in the great outdoors . . .
From the concrete jungle to the wilds of Northern Ontario, Sierra Williams takes a management job at a remote wilderness resort. Forced to travel by boat with a guide who is both annoying and arousing, her fate is sealed when the boat springs a leak. They are forced ashore for a night under the stars waiting to be rescued, where nothing but the wind and the wildlife can hear her passionate cries.
After working this last week, side-by-side with Gary, learning the ins and outs of wilderness resorts and campgrounds, Sierra had developed an easy camaraderie with the burly man. Watching Gary deal with customers in a casual, friendly manner was refreshing. She had yet to see an unhappy face. Oddly enough, she still didn’t know his job title. He seemed to be the resort’s jack of all trades, and from what she’d seen, a master of a lot more than one.
She’d come to admire him, although there were times when his teasing words annoyed her. His strength could be compared to a bear, she’d decided, after witnessing Gary haul forty-five-gallon drums on his shoulders the first day she’d arrived. Thick, corded arm muscles shimmered under the sun from sweat. A broad chest tapered to a narrow waist. He sure had an incredible body, and his green eyes looked exquisite against sun-tanned skin and dark brown hair.
He squatted down and rinsed the knife in the water.
Sierra stared at the white wife-beater clinging to his broad shoulders and narrow waist. She licked her lips, imagining a hundred possible positions a man like him could handle with such raw power at his disposal. He could probably pound her standing up with nothing for support but his own powerful legs. She looked away, her cheeks flushed, before he noticed her ogling him. “That’s quite the knife you have there,” she said, just to fill the silence.
Gary finished rinsing the knife and stood to face her, holding the blade at a dangerous angle between them. Sierra’s eyes widened and she stared at the sharp, shiny edge. He held the weapon so close her eyes nearly crossed looking at it.
“One flick of my wrist and I could completely remove your bra. Nice, eh?”
She swallowed. “I didn’t realize men thought about breasts while cleaning fish.”
“Men think about tits during any moment of the day.” His gaze slipped down to her chest. “And I must say, you have a healthy set of lungs.”
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