Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases!

This week’s tease comes from my erotic interracial romance A Thorned Rose in the Sand, which has just finished at 22K. In this scene, Stevie is trying to surmount the shock of seeing Ragab pleasing himself in the dunes.

* * *

Hours later, after a breakfast of mint tea and home-made biscuits served by Ragab’s mother on a carpet outside the tent, Stevie brought her luggage to her motorbike. The punishing sun climbed high in the bright blue sky, heating the air she breathed. She had a long road ahead, but before she even started, the thick rally clothes made her sticky with sweat. Worse, her head buzzed and ached from lack of sleep, and the warring emotions within drove her crazy. Not the best conditions to drive on a difficult terrain.

Ragab hadn’t returned, and his dromedary was missing.

She tried holding back her tears.

Was he angry with her? Did he think she’d been spying? If only he would give her the chance to apologize and explain. She hadn’t meant to walk into him in the dunes! It wasn’t like her to sneak up on people. She wasn’t the nosy kind—on the contrary, she demanded discretion, and so in return she gave it too.

Feeling sick, she strapped her luggage to the back seat when his mother came from behind the camp with a bucket of goat milk in hand and her daughters in tow. The little girls wore colorful dresses, and hair bands of cotton and pearls decorated their braided hair.

Stevie stopped working and asked the black-clothed woman, “Have you seen Ragab? I need to talk to him.”

His mother lifted her shoulders, didn’t speak English. Neither did the girls.

“’Ayn hu?” Stevie’s Arabic sucked, but she could at least ask where he was.

Shaking her head, his mother put the milk bucket on the ground, stepped forward, and took Stevie into her arms, as if to tell her she accepted her, or maybe that she understood how she was feeling. Holding her for a moment, she delivered a long line in this foreign language, voice raucous.

Stevie didn’t understand much, except, “Choukran.” The woman thanked Stevie, but for what? For bringing her little son to the hospital?

Oh, but that had been nothing. It was only natural to help. By the way, maybe she could stop at the hospital and say hello, since she had to drive through Erfoud to get to Fez. Wouldn’t that be nice?

She said, “Choukran,” too. She really did have a lot to thank for. Her two-day stay with the desert nomads had been a most enlightening and educational experience. An adventure of the rare kind. Even if she came back one day, this time, this moment would be forever etched in her mind.

Leila and Aida stood watching the scene, their dark brown eyes—the same as Ragab’s—sparkling with expectation.

Stevie searched a pocket, found a pack of chewing gum, and handed it to them.

They screamed and danced in delight, like it were a sensational gift.

Neighbors stuck their heads out of the other tents.

“Maʿ al-salāmah!” Stevie waved good-bye at them, before kneeling and holding out her arms to Ragab’s sweet little sisters. They came into a girl group hug that had her choke. Was this their last time together?

And what about Ragab?

Tears rushed to her eyes, filling them so her vision blurred, and rolled down her cheeks like warm rivers of hurt. Releasing the girls, she got up, turned her back to the Bedouin camp, and started the motor. No, she didn’t want to leave.

Copyright @ 2018 Lea Bronsen

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. His days are spent herding camels and dreaming of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty bike driver stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.

When the rat-race of life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to change track and live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a thrilling motorcycle rally across Morocco. But to her surprise, the real excitement is to be found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert…
 

* * *

Find out more about the book here

Thanks for stopping by, and be sure to check out all the fantastic writers sharing Mid-Week Tease Blog

 * * *

Disclaimer: I’ve borrowed this photo to illustrate the book excerpt.

Congratulations to Lynn Burke on your new release!

As the owner of Elite Escorts, Micah Fox’s material needs are met, but money isn’t everything. Watching his friends all settle down makes him realize he needs a woman of his own. The one thrust into his life, however, is unable to tolerate physical contact. Not exactly the ideal submissive he can dominate. Can he truly be happy without kink in his life?

Faced with her new boss, Jasmine Swift experiences a hunger to touch—and be touched—for the first time in twelve years. Psychological baggage from her childhood has always hindered any hope of a normal relationship, let alone one with a man as dominant as Micah. Passion flares to life between them, however, and Jasmine blossoms under Micah’s touch.

When her past returns to haunt her present, it threatens everything. Love and peace can be found in true submission if only Jasmine can trust her Sir.

*Warning: BDSM, anal sex, anal toys

Buy links:

Evernight / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Barnes & Noble / Smashwords / Kobo / Bookstrand

Excerpt:

Tense silence zapped between us, but she didn’t lower her head like usual when she seemed uncomfortable. Her pale-green eyes peered at me with a hint of question. Insecurity. But the pupils dominated, and the pulse jumped in her neck.

“Have you dreamed about me touching you?” I heard myself ask.

So much for inappropriate.

“Yes,” she whispered.

I wouldn’t touch her, but I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to enjoy every fucking inappropriate bit of information I could get passed her lips. “How?”

“You mean how do you touch me in my dreams?” Her low, husky voice rushed the blood to my cock, but I didn’t bother trying to hide the fact she turned me on.

I nodded.

“Gently.” She swallowed, but held my gaze. “With your fingertips until I grow accustomed to your touch.”

“Where do I touch you?” My voice sounded strangled in my ears.

“Here.” She lifted her hand and glanced at her palm.

“Where else? Put your wine down and show me.” I relaxed back into the chair, legs spread, giving her an eyeful of the hard ridge lining my jeans.

Her attention drifted down between my legs, her lips parting on a sharp inhale as her trembling hand set the wine glass on the table beside her. When she sat back, she uncrossed her legs, but kept her thighs together, the darkness beneath the skirt beckoning to me. “H-here.” She trailed her fingers up her arm, over her collarbone where she lingered. Up her neck. Over her lips.

I groaned. “Where else do I touch you?”

She swallowed, gaze still on my cock, and ran her hand back down her neck and over the swell of her breasts.

“Show me.” My Dom voice took over, and she followed the command without hesitation, slipping her hand up inside her tank top.

Lower lip between her teeth, she squirmed on the couch, same as when I’d caught her drooling over sex toys online.

“Is my touch still gentle?” I asked, my attention glued to the hand moving beneath her shirt, hiding one of the hard nipples pressing against the cotton.

“N-not so much.” Her needy tone brought another groan to my lips.

“What else do I do in your dreams?”

Face red, she closed her eyes. “You suck on my breasts. Bite my nipples.”

“And do you like it?”

“Yes,” she gasped and clenched her legs together.

Fucking heaven, I mused, watching her touch her breasts. I’d never wanted a woman so much in my fucking life. “Are you turned on right now?”

She swallowed and nodded.

“Where else do I touch you, Jasmine?”

“D-down there.”

Fuck, yes. “Lift your skirt and show me.” Every tense muscle in my body ached to move, but I held myself still. Waiting.

She didn’t even hesitate, but shimmied the skirt up to her hips.

Pink, fucking panties.

With one finger, she skimmed down the lace covering her pussy from me.

“Goddamn,” I groaned, my own fingers digging into my knees.

She slid her fingertip beneath the edge of her panties and rubbed up over her clit, a gasp parting her lips and tipping her head back.

I found myself stroking my cock through my jeans. “Do I make you come in your dreams, Jasmine?”

“Yes,” she whispered, eyes still clenched shut.

“Show me how.”

With one hand, she pulled her panties to the side. Pink lips glistened beneath a thatch of blonde curls.

Drooling, I stroked myself and stared as she pressed two fingers of her right hand into her pussy.

She moaned, slowly fucking herself with her fingers, hips grinding her against her hand.

“I want to watch you come, Jasmine,” I murmured, lifting my attention to her face as little noises flew past her parted lips. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Panting, she did as told, hazed, pale-green eyes peering my way. A sharp inhale lifted her chest, and her back bowed off my couch. “O-oh!” Her breath caught again, and she shuddered, crying out. I squeezed my cock to keep from blowing my load in my jeans, my blood rushing and ears ringing as she slowly settled, her breaths slowing. “If you ever decide you want me to touch you for real,” I murmured, “you only need to ask.”

Other books in the Elite Escorts series:

Third Wheel:  https://www.authorlynnburke.com/third-wheel.html

Second Go-Round: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/second-go-round.html

First Time: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/first-time.html

About Lynn Burke:

Lynn Burke is a full time mother, voracious gardener, and scribbler of spicy romance stories. A country bumpkin turned Bay Stater, she enjoys her chowdah and Dunkin Donuts when not trying to escape the reality of city life.

Website: https://www.authorlynnburke.com/

Blog: http://authorlynnburke.blogspot.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Author-Lynn-Burke-555282497937461/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/AuthorLynnBurke

Congratulations to Allyson Young on your new release!

Does a week of sexual adventure include a future with two men?

Buy Links:

Amazon / iTunes / 24symbols / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

Universal Link: https://www.books2read.com/u/mKJ59d

Author Bio:

Allyson Young lives in cottage country, Manitoba, Canada with her husband and numerous pets. She has always enjoyed the written word, and after reading an erotic romance, quite by mistake, decided to try her hand at penning one. A bestselling Amazon author, a hybrid author, as of December 2017, along with her alter ego, and three coauthors, she has published four series and several standalones in contemporary, sci-fi, fantasy and suspense genres—50 books in total. Allyson will write until whatever is inside is satisfied, until the heroes man up and the heroines get what they deserve. Love isn’t always sweet, and Allyson favours the darker side of romance.

http://www.allysonyoung.com

allysonyoung45@gmail.com

Happy Sunday! Sexy Snippets are seven sentences taken from a work in progress or published book, brought to you every Sunday.

Today, I give you a sexy snippet from the erotic interracial romance A Thorned Rose in the Sand, which has recently been submitted to a publisher. In this scene, Ragab and Stevie have had a disagreement, but of course can’t stay away from each other.

“Ragab,” she said.

His name pronounced with her voice provoked a pain in his chest, as if he’d strained a muscle. He kept his head down, didn’t know how to react.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

He swallowed a breath, choked on it, coughed, and finally cleared his throat. “Ugh… Me, too.”

“Okay. You go first.”

“No, you.” He hadn’t prepared any fancy speech. But he did have many things to say.

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. His days are spent herding camels and dreaming of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty bike driver stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.

When the rat-race of life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to change track and live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a thrilling motorcycle rally across Morocco. But to her surprise, the real excitement is to be found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert…

Disclaimer: I’ve borrowed this photo of ultra-sexy model Alex Uloom to illustrate the book excerpt.

Congratulations to Katerina Ross on your new release!

Dragomir, a magician with PTSD and a very inconvenient curse upon him, struggles to make a living, taking part in illegal boxing matches. Fighting is the only thing he’s good at now. But how long can he keep it up? The fights are dangerous, and he’s untrained.

A pretty witch he meets one night says she might change his life for the better. Is she really willing to help, or does she have her own wicked plans about him? And can she succeed where all the magicians of Scholomance have failed?

Warnings (or an incentive to read): BDSM, FemDom, bondage, whipping, spanking, pegging… and some magic, too 🙂

Excerpt

When he came to, the first thing he understood: he couldn’t see. A moment of panic—and then another realization: there was a blindfold of some kind over his eyes. He was standing with his arms up above him … and wait, were his hands bound? What the hell? He tried to reach up, rotating his wrists, and clutched at the chains he was hanging from. Yes, fucking chains. And leather handcuffs, buckled very tight. And he couldn’t feel any clothes upon himself, just something around his neck in addition to his dog tag.

Then he remembered. Ida. Her apartment. Talking about his curse. She said they had to negotiate…

And after that—nothing.

He jerked at the chains, hard. And again, and a few times more. They didn’t give. There was some slack, so at least his arms weren’t pulled up too tautly, but he couldn’t break free.

“You must be wondering what happened to you,” Ida said somewhere to his left. “You agreed to an experiment, remember? And here you are. A fine specimen for a very interesting test.”

Her hand touched his chest lightly, out of nowhere, and he jolted at the contact as if she prodded him with a stun baton.

She chuckled quietly. “So skittish. But it’s understandable. Everyone would be jumpy in your place.” Her hand wandered across his pecs, brushed his nipple, and disappeared. “I’ll let you adjust. Try tugging at the chains again if you want to check whether they will break or not. I allow you. But here’s a spoiler: they won’t. It’s not some rusty old shackles. They are good and new, very sturdy, and secured to an eyehook in the ceiling. There had been a large chandelier hanging from it once, so it’s quite reliable. I redecorated the room long ago, but I always thought the hook would come in handy one day. It’s a mild nuisance the handcuffs have to be hanging so high—I’m not that tall. But a bit of hypnosis, and you helped me to restrain you most eagerly.”

What the hell was going on?

As if through a fog, Dragomir remembered saying yes to some kind of experiment and even filling and signing a yes/no negotiation form, but it was a vague memory, distant and dream-like. Everything else—a boxing match, a fight before that—seemed even more surreal.

Ida’s hand slipped along his flank, ticklishly, up to his neck, and tugged at what he realized was a collar.

“And this is to ensure you wouldn’t break free using magic. Quite a special thing. Leather, silver, and a security spell. Meant especially for wayward mages, something of the kind they use in prisons when incarcerating a person with enhanced abilities.” She slipped a finger under the band around his throat, making it too tight, almost choking him. “So you will behave, no matter whether you want it or not. A bad boy will be a good boy for a change.”

“What are you doing?” he rasped out.

“Just making you harmless. Wasn’t it what you wanted, to cause no harm to me?”

Was she mocking him?

He stood there, wearing nothing but a collar, a dog tag, and a blindfold. It was ridiculous. Laughable. Humiliating.

And scary.

Rationally, he knew he probably had nothing to worry about. Or did he? But anyway, all rational thoughts gave way to a primitive bodily reaction—discomfort at being tied up, helpless. It felt like he was itching all over under his skin with uneasiness bordering on unwanted panic, too exposed, deprived of sight. He tried to wriggle his wrists out of the handcuffs instead of jerking at the chains, but to no avail.

“Nope, the handcuffs will hold, too,” Ida warned him. “I checked, and not just once. As I might have said, I do a bit of coaching now and then, but of an unusual kind. I call it expanding boundaries. Experiencing new sensations. It doesn’t normally include sex, but for you, I might make an exception.”

A peck of a kiss between his shoulder blades. Hands running up and down his sides, in a comforting manner, but at the same time, it was unnerving. He tried to twist away from her touch, stubbornly, but she squeezed his hips, adding a hint of nails.

“Sshh, don’t twitch, hold still,” she said, “or I’ll pull up the chains. They say it’s extremely painful to hang from your wrists. Excruciating.”

“Oh yeah?” he managed. “Someone else complained?”

“And very loudly. Good thing this room is soundproof. As I said, it had been redecorated.”

Her arms went ‘round him. She was still clothed, but he could feel her little perky breasts pressing against his back. His cock, already half-hard, immediately went into a very interested mode. It didn’t seem to mind the strangeness of the situation.

Buy links

Amazon / Evernight Publishing (it’s cheaper here)

Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases!

This week’s tease comes from my erotic interracial romance A Thorned Rose in the Sand, which has just finished at 22K. In this scene, Ragab needs some time alone after a difficult day.

* * *

Having found a discreet spot far from the camp, far from anyone’s curiosity (one didn’t get much privacy in such a small community), Ragab took off his tunic, folded it into a cushion, and put it on the ground. He glanced around. Big, wavy sand dunes flanked him, and the only witness to his sin—he’d lied to Stevie about having “one single sin”, although now that he’d sworn never to smoke again, it was true—was the big, white moon above, and it didn’t care much what he did.

He sat on his tunic, legs spread, and unbuttoned his pants.

Hours ago, unable to sleep, he’d snuck out and paced here and there for a long time, pondering about his attraction to her, weighing the pros and cons. It hadn’t been easy, but he’d concluded they were both better off if he stayed away from her and she returned to her life in America. She was going to in any case, and not come back unless she participated in motorcycle rallies, but how often was that, once a year? Yes, he had to forget about her, even though it hurt, before she hurt him more.

He closed his eyes with a reluctant sigh and pulled his cock out of his pants. Too much tension had built during the day. It’d started with worry… Then continued with lust, anger, more lust… And he’d been hard half of the time. There was only one way to release some of that strain and get his mind off the different subjects messing with him, and he’d waited long enough.

He stroked his stiffening cock gently at first, base to top, conjuring up the familiar image of the faceless woman whose sexy body had driven him to explosion in the past years. Sometimes she spun to him, full breasts with perky brown nipples swinging as she did an alluring belly dance to Arabic music, and sometimes she turned to show her generous ass, bending forward with her sex leaking arousal and pleading him to fill her.

Tonight, he preferred to take her from behind. It was more distancing, less personal. He wasn’t in the mood for romance or sensual dancing, he wanted a quick penetration and a stress-releasing climax.

An interference occurred, like when a television image blurred and another image transposed. The one of a real woman. Not just her sexy body, but her face. Stevie’s face…

No!

He shouldn’t think of her, shouldn’t. She was a mistake!

And yet the erotic picture occupied his mind — the red-haired beauty he’d become attracted to in the course of a day, washing by the well in the torrid desert, daring him with her wild greens while offering a generous feminine figure of sweet, velvety skin and perfect round butt cheeks, and, as she leaned forward, her open, welcoming sex.

No! Stevie had been scarred by another man, remember?

Stupid, stupid.

He refused to touch her, refused to hurt her.

Copyright @ 2018 Lea Bronsen

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. His days are spent herding camels and dreaming of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty bike driver stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.

When the rat-race of life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to change track and live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a thrilling motorcycle rally across Morocco. But to her surprise, the real excitement is to be found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert…

* * *

Find out more about the book here

Thanks for stopping by, and be sure to check out all the fantastic writers sharing Mid-Week Tease Blog

 * * *

Disclaimer: I’ve borrowed this photo of ultra-sexy model Alex Uloom to illustrate the book excerpt.

Happy Sunday! Sexy Snippets are seven sentences taken from a work in progress or published book, brought to you every Sunday.

Today, I give you a sexy snippet from my erotic interracial romance A Thorned Rose in the Sand, which just finished at 22K. To place you in the context, Ragab and Stevie are coming back to camp after a dromedary ride.

* * *

Gathering what courage she had left, she slid a leg over the saddle, glided down Usain’s flank, and landed in Ragab’s arms, a little closer than she’d planned. They made full contact, chest-to-chest, stomach-to-stomach, and a distinct hardness pressed through his blue tunic.

He was aroused again! And this time, he couldn’t blame it on accidental ‘friction’. No, the tall man held her in place, sliding his large hands down her waist to the curved top of her hips in a sensual manner.

She formed a surprised, “Oh,” with her mouth.

He gazed down at her lips, soft breaths brushing her. She could kiss him if she wanted to. Yep, it was just a matter of wanting to.
 

     
 
After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. His days are spent herding camels and dreaming of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but feisty bike driver stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.

When the rat-race of life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to change track and live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a thrilling motorcycle rally across Morocco. But to her surprise, the real excitement is to be found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert…

   
 
Disclaimer: I borrowed the photo of gorgeous model Alex Uloom to illustrate the snippet. 

Congratulations to Elena Kincaid on your new release!

Thank you so much for hosting ARCTIC SPIRIT (Arctic Ice #1) on your blog. This story was previously published in an anthology and new details along with a hint at another new series set in the same world have been added. I have at least three books planned in each series. I have fallen so in love with my tigers and dragons and hope your readers will too.

Charlotte Austen has been in love with her two best friends, Chris and Drew Malcom, since high school, but choosing between them was never an option. The day she said goodbye to them was a painful one, especially since she thought she would never see them again. Ten years and one visit later changes everything.

Alaskan tiger shifters, Chris and Drew, have never gotten over Charlotte. The fact that they were both in love with her was never the problem … being destined for a mate, however, was. They reach out to her, hoping to find a way to resume their friendship. The three of them get an unsuspected surprise when they see each other again.

The trio’s happy discovery does not come without a price. Jealousy and prejudice threaten to destroy the budding romance. Will Chris and Drew be able to stop the threat before they lose the love of their lives forever?

Buy Links

Amazon / Evernight / Bookstrand / B&N / Kobo / Amazon UK / Amazon Fr

Excerpt

Drew pulled her to him and kissed her fiercely. She heard a low growl coming from the back of his throat and that only turned her on more. She had heard growls emanating from them before and quite a bit in the past two days, confusing them for simple male grunting sounds, but now she knew that the sound was a far more primal one. Soon after, his kiss turned playful, as he first licked the top of her lip and then nipped it. She moaned at the sensation and felt her nipples harden against his chest and her belly contracted with excitement, all modesty forgotten.

She had thought about what her first kiss would feel like with them, but her thoughts had paled in comparison with this reality. She moaned again, louder this time, when Drew pulled back slightly and cupped her breasts. Chris moved in closer from behind and began to gift her with kisses to the nape of her neck, gliding his hands up and down her sides.

Drew ended their kiss with another playful bite, but to her bottom lip this time. He exhaled loudly, while she tried to catch her breath. “You should get some more rest,” he said with regret.

“I have done nothing but sleep for the last two days.” Rest was the last thing she wanted right now. “Please don’t stop.”

“Mmm … I can smell her desire,” Chris said right before he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.

Drew closed his eyes as he inhaled. “You smell delicious.”

“You can—” Charlotte did not have a chance to finish her sentence. Chris tilted her head to deliver another breath-stealing kiss, leaving his hand splayed right under her neck. Charlotte threw her arms up and over behind Chris’s neck.

Drew wasted no time in taking advantage of her inviting position. He cupped her breasts again before bringing them closer together and sucked hard on her nipples in turn. “You have such beautiful breasts,” he murmured against as he continued to lavish his attention on them.

Chris let loose another sexy growl as she tugged on his hair. He used his free hand to glide down her belly, moving the covers away from her body. She nearly convulsed when his fingers made contact with her soaking-wet pussy. She wanted his fingers inside her, but he only toyed with her at first, rubbing her lips, parting them, and then rubbing the wet flesh between. “I want a taste,” he said, cupping her firmly.

She let out an incoherent sound of agreement.

“Lay down, baby,” Drew said, releasing her breasts.

She complied, positioning herself on her back and then she boldly spread her legs in invitation. Chris moved between them. He massaged her breasts and then ran his hands down the length of her torso to her thighs as if his hands were memorizing her body. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Char.”

Drew lay down beside her. “Chris and I are going to acquaint ourselves with every beautiful inch of you, and then when you are ready, we are going to claim you, permanently.”

About Elena Kincaid

Elena Kincaid is an award-winning and Amazon best-selling author. She writes Paranormal and Contemporary Romances. She developed a passion for reading and writing at an early age, and loves to write what she loves to read, usually romance with a paranormal twist. Her desk is constantly cluttered with journals, sticky notes, and torn-out pieces of paper full of ideas.
She was born in Ukraine and raised in New York, where she currently lives with her daughter. She graduated college with a BFA in creative writing, and in addition to writing, she also started a graphic design business a few years after graduating. When not working, Elena loves to spend time with her family, travel the globe, curl up with a good book, and catch up on her soaps.

Blog: http://elenakincaid.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.elenakincaid.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/elenakincaid1

FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/elenakincaidthree

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Elena-Kincaid/e/B011IOY3KE

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7060236.Elena_Kincaid

Street Team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/SMEstreetteam/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/elenakincaid/

Congratulations to Doris O’Connor on your new release!

Thanks so much for having me on your blog today with my new release Auctioned to the Bad Boy CEO. Hannah and Logan are right up there in the top five favorite couples I’ve written to date, and I can only hope that the readers will love them as much as I do.

One early reviewer said, “They’re perfect for each other.”

I have to agree, but then I would, right. LOL

Check them out!

Hannah Watson has little time for romantic entanglements. After all, she hasn’t met a man yet who can beat her little battery-operated friend.

Until the new CEO arrives. Known for his ruthlessness in business, he’s also every woman’s wet dream—hers included. His temper alone should be a turn off, but her libido is not listening to reason.

Logan Bryce doesn’t tangle with his employees—ever—until curvy little Hannah makes all of him sit up and take notice. Who knew the starchy, always respectably dressed Ms. Watson had such a naughty side? Her proposal to auction off willing celebrities and suitable staff for a ‘date’ has appeal, especially with Hannah, herself, on the auction block.

The terms of the auction are clear—a twenty-four hour commitment—plenty of time to get her out of his system.

What can possibly go wrong?

Be Warned: mild BDSM, sex toys, spanking

Buy it from:

Evernight / Amazon.com / Amazon.uk / Amazon.ca / Amazon.au / Nook / iTunes / Kobo / Bookstrand

Excerpt:

“Because you were too busy playing slap the donkey with your schlong.”

“Schlong?” Logan didn’t know whether to be amused or offended at having his cock referred to thus.

“Yes, what would you call that?”

She glanced down at said appendage and attempted to cross her arms. No doubt to hide her body’s far too obvious reaction to him. It made him even harder, eager to lose himself in her soft body and to finish with her what he’d started on his own in the shower. She accidentally grazed his cock with her arm in her attempt to hide her hard nipples from him. Like “come suck me” beacons they pushed against the satin of her gown, and made Logan’s mouth water with the need to taste them. How responsive would those little nubs be as he rolled them between his fingers, sucked them in his mouth, and bit down? Would she like that nip of pain, find it as much as a turn-on as he did, or would that be one step too far for sensible little Hannah? Not that she looked very sensible now with her dilated pupils, and the fine sheen of arousal coating her skin. Her heart beat an uneven staccato at the base of her throat, and a groan escaped her full lips when he ran his nose along that sensitive area and inhaled. Her sweet scent, made more potent by her arousal, called him to bite down, to mark her in the most primitive of ways, but he couldn’t and wouldn’t do that without her consent.  To give into his darker desires was a two-edged sword, one he couldn’t allow himself to unleash, not now, perhaps not ever again. Certainly not with someone who worked for him, and with the hearing hanging over his head, he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize his success there. He owed Claudia that much.

Logan pushed those thoughts down with the same ruthlessness that had made him so successful in the corporate world. They had no business here, not with sweet little Hannah his for the taking and his being so revved up that innocent skin on skin graze of her arm on his cock was almost painful. Predictably that part of his anatomy jerked. Giving into the demands of his body, he pulled back slightly, took her hand, and wrapped her slender fingers around his shaft.

Another one of those cock-hardening moans came from the woman he was holding a not so reluctant prisoner against his bathroom wall, and he tipped her chin up with his other hand to read her expression.

“I would call that my cock, and unless you really do want me to spank that delicious, round bottom of yours, I suggest you do something to help him out.”

Her digits tightened around his shaft, and Logan swallowed his grunt of pleasure.

“Like this, Sir?”

Her whispered question and the snarky intonation she put on that title made his dominant side roar. She couldn’t know what that did to him, and soon he was past the ability to think, because the feel of her little fist sliding up and down his hard dick, the little mewls she made as though this was a huge turn-on for her, too … fuck it, he was in real danger of shooting his load right there and then, and that just wouldn’t do. He wanted to come inside her tight little pussy the first time around, before he claimed every one of her other willing holes.

Logan fisted his hand in her hair and pulling her head back growled his instructions.

“Enough.”

He pulled Hannah’s hand off his dick and slanted his lips over hers. Her tiny yelp in response to his rough handling granted him access, and he pushed his tongue inside her mouth, while he angled her head just so. When her hands slid up his shoulders and she pushed herself against him, he lost what little restraint he had and kissed her in earnest. He tongue-fucked her, in a very good imitation of what he was aching to do with his cock, while he ground his hips into her soft belly, and, grasping a generous handful of her luscious ass, pulled her tighter into him.

Hannah did not disappoint in her response. She kissed him back with the same feverish desire that coursed through his veins. The need to fill his lungs with oxygen forced him to break the kiss, and, panting, he rested his forehead on hers.

“Let’s take this to the bedroom. I need to be in you, woman. Tell me you want that, too.”

He pulled away just enough to read her expression, and the sight of her kiss-swollen lips, her pale skin already marked by his emerging stubble was the hugest fucking turn-on so far. Still, he had to be sure she was on board with this, so he forced himself to wait for her response. When none was forthcoming, other than the sounds of her rapid breathing, he tugged her hair again, a little harder this time. Tears sprang into her azure eyes, but she also clung tighter and bit her lip.

“Don’t do that. It makes me want to bite you all over, right after I turned your backside raw for not answering me straightaway.”

If that was possible her eyes grew even wider. She whispered something that he couldn’t quite catch over the roaring of his own heartbeat in his ears.

“What was that? Speak up, little dove, or I shall take your silence as consent. After all, you did come and see me, and I warned you what would happen if you did.”

He pulled her plump bottom lip between his teeth and bit down. Hannah gasped and jerked, and he pulled back and licked that tiny drop of blood away. Her life’s essence exploded on his taste buds, made him hungry for more.

“Tell me you’re mine for tonight.”

About Doris

Doris is a writer of sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get.  From contemporary to paranormal, Sci-fi, BDSM, M/M, and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.

Stalk her in these places:

Website / Twitter / Facebook / Pinterest / Instagram / Evernight Publishing / Amazon / BookStrand / Barnes & Noble

Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases!

This week’s tease comes from my current WIP, the erotic romance A Thorned Rose in the Sand. To place you in the context, Stevie and the nomad have arrived at the Bedouin camp after fetching water in the desert. 

* * *

The nomad spun and walked away. “Let’s go for that dromedary ride I promised you,” he threw over his shoulder.

“Um… Now? Can’t we eat first?”

He stopped in his tracks, raised a brow. “Eat?”

“Yes, as in have some food. You have food, right? I’m starving.” On cue, her stomach growled to stress the urgency.

He dug into a pocket hidden in his large tunic and brought out a small plastic bag. “Here, have some dried dates. They’ll keep you going till dinner.”

“And when will that be?”

“At sunset.”

“But…” She looked up at the sun, still so very high in the clear blue sky, and grimaced. She would never survive until then. Dammit, all she’d had today was a coffee and some pastry in Erfoud, after she brought the little boy to the hospital, but that was hours ago.

With a teasing smile, Ragab handed her a few dates. “You know, we pastoral nomads are often hungry, and we’re always thirsty. That’s how things are. We cope.”

He thought this was funny? She faked a huff. “Well, I’m a completely normal American girl used to regular and copious meals.” She accepted the dates and put one in her mouth. Mmm, the tasty fruit was thick with sugar and undoubtedly nutritive, but that didn’t mean she would survive until the evening. She pointed at him. “If I die of starvation, I have an army of bad-ass brothers willing to travel across the world to inflict the most terrible revenge.”

Ragab barked a laugh and spun on his heels again.

She couldn’t help smiling with him—and loving the sound of his voice, loving the way he looked at her, loving their humorous exchanges. And his playboy looks, by God!

But, be careful, girl.

Never forget the first motive of a man showing interest in a woman. Guys didn’t want a friendship. They wanted sex, hard and fast, day and night. And although the feel of Ragab’s stiff dick against her ass on the motorcycle had lit something hot and needy in her and she’d liked it—wanted more, even—she should never miscalculate a man’s intentions.

She spat out the stone, chewed on another date, and followed him to the backside of the low, rectangular tents, to an open space where camels, sheep, goats, and yapping dogs wandered freely and drank from basins.

They stopped at one of the camels, that rested on the ground with its long legs tucked underneath its body. The giraffe-like neck turned to them, and two bulbous black eyes beneath long, thick eyelashes studied her.

“Stevie, say hello to Usain,” Ragab said, petting the camel’s hairy neck. “Usain, this is Stevie, one very crazy specimen of the female species coming to see you all the way from America. I believe they have llamas over there, by the way. Your brothers.”

She held back a smile. “Crazy?” She gazed the big animal up and down. “I gotta be crazy to ride this thing, that’s for sure.”

Usain lifted its head in the air and let out a deep, rumbling, “Uuuurrr,” that sounded like an elephant’s trumpet.

Ragab smiled. “A lot of westerners call it a camel, but it’s actually a dromedary.” He grabbed a saddle from a carpet on the ground, placed it on top of Usain’s protruding hump, and tied it around the stomach. “It’s the smallest of the species and it has one hump. The others have two. Okay, climb up, lady.”

“Who, me?” She looked around.

He followed her look and frowned. “I don’t see anyone else here.”

“I’m not riding that thing.”

“Why not?”

“I just am not. No fucking way.”

He pursed his lips. “And I who thought you were the toughest girl on the planet. I’m disappointed. We’ll ride together, then.” In one swift move, he got up on the saddle, adjusted, and extended a hand.

Taking a deep breath, she accepted the help and climbed up behind him. The saddle was wider than a motorcycle seat, and made of wood and piled blankets. Not the most comfortable thing to sit on. And what when the big animal underneath moved?

Ragab leaned forward and grabbed a blue rope that hung from Usain’s head.

She froze. Oh, my God…

Sitting back, he gave an order and tugged on the leash. Usain straightened its front legs, tilting Stevie backward so her world tumbled and the sky filled her view, and all she could do was grasp Ragab’s tunic and hold on for dear life, too panicked to scream.

Then Usain extended its back legs, and she was propelled toward Ragab so her boobs flattened against his back. Not a good time to worry about that—Usain moved with a rolling, lilting gait, scaring the living shit out of her. Without hesitation or shame, she slid her arms around Ragab’s firm waist and locked them in front of his stomach.

He didn’t say anything, but put a warm hand over hers. An incredible comfort in her moment of need.

Trying to breathe normally, she rested one side of her face against his shoulder blade and closed her eyes, holding on to him as tightly as possible and following his slow, dance-like movements. His body was lean, not an ounce of fat, yet muscled in the right places. A real man. His tunic concealed too much, like his turban. Oh, and he smelled nice, a mix of faint sweat and manly musk. She focused on breathing in his scent to forget about her fear.

Copyright @ 2018 Lea Bronsen

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. His days are spent herding camels and dreaming of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but annoyingly feisty bike driver stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.

When the rat-race of life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to change track and live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a thrilling motorcycle rally across Morocco. But to her surprise, the real excitement is to be found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert…

* * *

Thanks for stopping by, and be sure to check out all the fantastic writers sharing Mid-Week Tease Blog

* * *

        
    
Disclaimer: I’ve borrowed the photo to illustrate the book excerpt.

Happy Wednesday, and thanks again to Angelica Dawson for organizing the MidWeekTeases!

This week’s tease comes from my current WIP, the erotic romance A Thorned Rose in the Sand. To place you in the context, Ragab and the fiery rally racer Stevie are driving home after fetching water in the desert. 

She called, “Ready?”

He risked a glance in her direction.

Wearing one of his sisters’ dresses and looking divine with her red curls floating behind her—and her face white and clean! she strolled to the motorcycle carrying a bag and her leather clothes. She stuffed everything on top of the fuel tank, got up, lifted the dress to her knees, and started the motor.

Not once looking at him.

Swallowing a deep breath, he spun and joined her, thanking the heavens his large tunic concealed the erection that tented his pants. He attached a strong rope to the handles of both ten-liter jerrycans and hung them across the motorcycle saddle. After just barely managing to climb up behind the girl without touching her, he sat on the hard-plastic rear seat, which was higher than her leather driver’s seat, and held on to it with both hands behind him. There was no place to put his feet, so they hung freely like the jerrycans. “Okay, I’m ready.”

She gave gas, the engine roaring like a lion and the motorcycle lurching forward.

Despite his efforts not to come near her, the high speed, the motor vibrations, the uneven terrain, the lack of leverage for his feet, and the height of the slippery seat combined made him glide toward her—toward her perfect butt. He kept pulling himself up and sitting back, but the rocks she drove over made the motorcycle jerk so he lost his hold. And each time he slid against her, his hard-on stuck itself in the crack of her ass. Desperate, he held the plastic seat for dear life and tried moving back again and again, but kept being projected back to her.

About a half hour later, when they finally arrived at the camp, he’d given up the impossible struggle and sat plastered against her, stomach-to-back, his thick erection lodged between her butt cheeks…and he’d never felt so embarrassed in his whole life.

As soon as she stopped near the first tent, he pulled backward with a groan of pain, climbed down, and busied himself lifting the jerrycans from the motorcycle.

She took off her helmet and spun toward him like a whirlwind, green eyes ablaze as if he’d committed murder. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, rubbing against me like that?”

Ugh, as if he wasn’t feeling bad enough! Face heating, he barked, “You know, between your crazy speed and the bumps in the track and the height of that stupid plastic seat, which all made me glide toward you against my will”—he pointed to the saddle—“and the understanding of how a man’s anatomy works when there’s…friction…” He paused, fuming, glaring at her. “It’s not my fucking fault, as you would so properly say, and I’m very sorry it happened. I would never do anything like this on purpose. I’m not that kind of man.” He pursed his lips and glowered. Would she go home now believing all Arab men were sexual predators?

She stared for a moment, studying him with a frown across her face.

“What?” he snapped. He’d explained, apologized. What more did she want from him?

He boiled inside. Normally, he was a posed and reflected man who didn’t blow up, but since the first time he saw this girl, she kept pushing his buttons and bringing out the worst in him. She made him explosive.

“Show me who you are,” she said, calm.

“What do you mean?”

“Take off that thing.” She nodded to the part of his turban that protected his mouth.

What was she up to? She looked serious, though, really wanted to see his face. “Why?”

“’Cause I’m sick of talking to a scarf, that’s why.”

Well, if somehow it could help convince he wasn’t a sexual offender… Sighing, he unwrapped the many layers of blue fabric from around his head until the sun stung his nose, lips, and chin.

She widened her gorgeous greens, and in them he read attraction. He knew it, he’d seen it many times in London.

Copyright @ 2018 Lea Bronsen

After his studies in London, Ragab has returned to the nomadic lifestyle of his Bedouin family and the majestic silence of the Sahara. His days are spent herding camels and dreaming of the perfect wife, until a beautiful but annoyingly feisty bike driver stuck in a sand dune turns his quiet world upside down.

When the rat-race of life in a big U.S. city becomes too much, Stevie Jones decides to change track and live her wildest dream – compete against the tough guys in a thrilling motorcycle rally across Morocco. But to her surprise, the real excitement is to be found away from the race track, in the shifting sands of the desert…

* * *

Thanks for stopping by, and be sure to check out all the fantastic writers sharing

Mid-Week Tease Blog

* * *

   
Disclaimer: I borrowed this photo of handsome model Alexander Uloom to illustrate the book excerpt.
  
 

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http://www.allysonyoung.com

allysonyoung45@gmail.com