SWORN TO PROTECT by Diana Gardin

SWORN TO PROTECT by Diana Gardin 

(June 4, 2017; Forever Yours eBook; $3.99; Rescue Ops Book 1)

To keep her safe, he'll have to uncover all her secrets...

Rayne Alexander. A face I never thought I'd see again, and one I never could forget. Nine years ago, she left town--and me--without a backward glance. But now she's back, with a haunted look in her eyes and a feisty attitude that didn't exist when we were teenagers. Seeing this grown-up--and sexy--Rayne is something I wasn't prepared for... and it's bringing up feelings I'd thought I'd buried years ago.

Although I want to demand answers from Rayne, working on black ops at Night Eagle Security has taught me that it's sometimes better to keep my mouth shut. So when I catch her hiding a photo of a little boy, I'm curious. When I see her jump as her phone rings, I'm concerned. But the second I notice a car following her home, I know she's hiding something. Something dangerous. And while I may not know why she left or why she's back, if there's someone out there Rayne is afraid of, I'll make damn sure that threat is eliminated.

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Even when I tell it not to, my body reacts to Rayne. Every time she pulls her lip between her teeth. Every time her midnight blue eyes meet mine and smolder with some unseen emotion. Every single time I see a peek of the perky breasts that were really nice in high school, but are just spectacular now.

And I’m having a more difficult time every day hiding the way my stomach clenches when she checks her phone with that look of fear on her face.

It’s at one of these times that I don’t fight the pull and stalk toward her desk.

Snatching the phone from her hand, I read the text that put the disturbed expression in her eyes.

“Jeremy! What the fuck?”

Ignoring her pissed-off shout, my eyes narrow and my teeth clamp shut when I read the words on her screen.

You can’t hide forever. I will find you. And I will take what’s mine.

Rage explodes inside me. Glancing around the lobby, where people are acting like they’re not listening to us, but who are clearly paying attention, I grasp her by the elbow and tow her and the phone down the hallway and into the lounge.

Tossing her phone onto a countertop, I spin her around until she’s pressed against the nearest wall. I cage her in with my arms, leaning forward while taking deep breaths to try and control my temper.

 “Tell me about that text, Rayne. Tell me now.” The words are gritted out through my teeth.

“It’s none of your—”

“Dammit, Rayne! If you tell me it’s none of my business I’m probably gonna break something. I know that I shouldn’t care, shouldn’t want to know. But I do! Okay?

If someone is threatening you like this, then I need to know about it. I just do.”

She clamps her mouth shut, staring back at me with stubborn fear in her eyes.

While I’m watching, a lone tear escapes and rolls down her cheek. She’s too mulish to wipe it away, so it just keeps falling while I trace its track with my gaze.

“Fuck me.” The curse is muttered from me while I use a thumb to wipe the tear away.

“Rayne…I know it’s been a long time. You don’t know the man I am now. But there’s no way in hell I can watch you keep getting these texts—see the fear in your eyes when you read them—and not do something about it. You’re working in an office full of guys that can take out whoever this is. But you have to trust me enough to let me help you.”

She sniffs. “I don’t trust anyone, Jer.”

Jer. The nickname rocks me, sending me reeling into the past where her plump lips would utter that name on a sigh while I kissed the sweetest spot in the world—the hollow right above her collarbone.

Blinking, I shake off the image and dip my head a little. “I know. What I don’t know is why. What happened to you?”

Her mouth stays firmly closed.

 “You think I’m gonna let this go, Rayne?”

She just stares up at me, a war going on in her eyes. It’s like she wants to tell me what’s happening, but something inside won’t let her. She doesn’t want me to get close.

I’m suddenly aware of the fact that we’re only inches apart. I can smell her. The fresh, slightly sweet scent of something floral washes over me, mixed with the hint of spice that is just Rayne.

“I just want to help you,” I whisper, before letting my thumb roam over her soft skin.

One hand is still braced against the wall while my thumb sweeps a path across her cheekbone, and even though I’m fighting the lust bubbling up inside me, my cock swells in my jeans. Taunting me. Forcing me to think about what she’d look like now if she were lying naked under me. All that gorgeous black hair splayed out on the pillows, my name falling from her lips while I please her. Whether I’m willing to admit it or not, that’s still a deep, dark desire inside me.

Pleasing her. And I don’t want to just please her. No, I want to possess her, to own her.

Because a long time ago, I did. But she slipped through my fingers, and I was left wondering how the hell I lost her.

Diana Gardin is a wife of one and a mom of two. Writing is her second full time job to that, and she loves it! Diana writes contemporary romance in the Young Adult and New Adult categories. She's also a former Elementary school teacher. She loves steak, sugar cookies, and Coke and hates working out.

www.dianagardin.com

www.twitter.com/DianaLynnGardin

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Royal Affair by Parker Swift

ROYAL AFFAIR by Parker Swift 
(February 2017, 2017; Forever Yours eBook; $3.99; Royal Scandal Book 1)

One seriously sexy son-of-a-duke . . .

Behind the posh British accent, Dylan Hale possesses a down-and-dirty sexiness. Off-the-charts gorgeous, a ruthless architect . . . and did I mention he's a future duke? Every time we touch, it's wildfire. All need and lust and heat. But Dylan has rules: just sex, no one can know, and in the bedroom he gets complete control. All I have to do is follow the rules, because falling in love with Dylan Hale is all it would take to screw everything up . . . royally.

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We weren’t a foot inside when he closed the door behind him and said, “Turn around, damsel,” indicating I should face away from him. 

I complied, and he slowly came up behind me, running his hands along my bare upper back and down my arms. He unzipped the dress and pulled it off my shoulders so it pooled at my feet. I was naked except for my insanely high heels. Grabbing my hips, he pulled my naked ass into his front, and I could feel his hardness pushing against the seam of his trousers. 

“Can you feel how much I want you? How much I want this?” he said firmly, increasing his grip on my hips, pulling me even closer.

I tilted my head back and to the side to try to steal a glimpse of him, and he rested his chin on my shoulder. His hands wrapped around and palmed my breasts. He pushed them in and up, molding them in his palms, and he began to tug at my nipples, rolling them between his thumb and finger, teasing them to the point where pain met pleasure.

“I’m breaking all sorts of rules for you, aren’t I?” He was kissing my neck, sucking my skin, nipping it gently between his teeth, devouring me in motions that mimicked what he was doing to my breasts.

“What rules have you broken for me?” I asked, practically whispering, searching for steadiness in my breath.

He spun me around and lifted me by my ass in one swift move. I locked my ankles behind his back. 

“For starters I rarely sleep with the same woman twice, at least not in the same week. I don’t spend the night. Ever. And neither do the women I see. And I don’t invite women into my office. Ever. But I couldn’t resist with you. I’d been dreaming about having my mouth on that pretty pussy on that table for weeks. Picturing you just as you were.”

“Did it live up to the dream?” I nuzzled into his cheek, desperate to get to a place where he was naked, where I could feel his skin on my skin.

“The dream didn’t stand a chance.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you breaking any of your rules, would I? I mean, maybe we better stop now, and you could sleep on my sofa. Or you can get back on your horse—”

“Not on your life, smartass.”

Parker Swift grew up in Providence, Rhode Island, and then grew up again in New York, London, and Minneapolis and currently lives in Connecticut. She has spent most of her adult life examining romantic relationships in an academic lab as a professor of social psychology. Now, she's exploring the romantic lives of her fictional characters in the pages of her books. When she's not writing, she spends her time with her bearded nautical husband and being told not to sing along to pop music in the car by her two sons.

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Relase Day BlitzCarry me Homeby Lia Riley

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CARRY ME HOME by Lia Riley (May 5, 2015; Forever Yours Novella; $0.99)

Love doesn't have to be perfect to be true...
Years ago, Tanner Green loved Sunny Letman. She was meant to be his first kiss, first love, firsteverything. Then their world spun upside-down and out of control. Free-spirited Sunny doesn't do commitment. Sure, guys are great for a night or a week, but shealways leaves first. That is, until professional skateboarder and town golden boy, Tanner Green, unexpectedly walks back into her life.

Despite their broken history, a fragile and undeniably electric connection still holds them together. Now Tanner has to convince Sunny that even though love isn't always perfect, it's worth sticking around for. . .

About the author:

After studying at the University of Montana-Missoula, Lia Riley scoured the world armed only with a backpack, overconfidence and a terrible sense of direction. When not torturing heroes (because c'mon, who doesn't love a good tortured hero?), Lia herds unruly chickens, camps, beach combs, daydreams about as-of-yet unwritten books, wades through a mile-high TBR pile and schemes yet another trip. She and her family live mostly in Northern California.

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EXCERPT:

Tanner is in the shower when I let myself inside. There’s a wooden rocking chair in the corner. I walk over, sit and close my eyes. He’s naked, soapy, skin flushed from the hot spray. I could join him. He wants me. The space between my legs throbs to the beat of my heart. What’s set in motion between us isn’t going to stop.

I rock, straighten my backbone and focus my attentions. Imagine each breath spiraling through the open door, to the sky, leaving the atmosphere. A quiet prayer. Please. Please don’t let me fuck this up. My hands grip the rocking chair sides hard, hands that ache to touch his wet skin.

The water turns off and he’s out, rubbing a towel over his body.

I’m going for it, can’t help myself.

 I tried my best to be my own island.

Turns out my best isn’t nearly good enough.

The door opens and he stands, backlit in a tight white t-shirt and  pair of low slung jeans. His mop of hair is wet, slicked back from his striking face.

“Good, you’re back,” he says. “I didn’t like you out there alone.”

“I was fine, nothing scary outside.”

He frowns, catching my double meaning. “I decided to sleep in the back of my car.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“I don’t mind.”

Of course he doesn’t. He’d sleep on bare concrete if he thought it would be easier for me.

“I get it.” He backs toward the door. “Tonight’s been extreme. You want space. I’ll go--”

“Stop.” I’m in the darkest corner, in this rocking chair throne, the Queen of the Shadows. There’s a great mystery at work. How can my heart be chained to this guy and still feel free?

A bead of water drops from his thick hair and falls to his shoulder. Then another. Tiny wet patches appear on his shirt each time one makes impact. The way he watches me, his gaze writes a secret poem on my skin. “Tell me you don’t want me,” he says. “Say you’re not interested and nothing will happen.”
            I want to curl in a ball. Instead, I stand up.

            “Sunny,” he whispers, and it’s hard to know if he intends my name as a question or an answer. Funny, the way it sounds like both.

My lids flutter closed of their own volition as he closes the distance. He’s tall enough that when he bends, his face buries into the top of my head. He inhales as if I’m a secret flower. I wish I only ever bloomed for him. A stupid notion. This moment would be perfect if it wasn’t us. If we were other people.

I hook my fingers into his belt loops and do an uncharacteristic fumble, aim too high and brush his stomach instead. His abdominal muscles flex and there’s my cue to explore. I can’t help but inch under the cotton, trace the thick muscles that make up his defined V-line. My nails gently cut to the top of his jeans. His groan vibrates into my skull.

He’s slipping,  less careful with every ragged breath. His skin heats under my fingertips. There’s no choice. There’s never been with him.

I rock into him, hard, and his mouth explodes on mine like a wet, hot grenade. He bites my lower lip and even though I’m scared, I’m not scared of him anymore.