My March 2009 release, FURY CALLS, has been nominated for an RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice Award for best Nocturne. Wish me luck! The winners will be announced in April at the RT Convention. FURY CALLS has also already won a coveted Cataromance Reviewer’s Award fBest Nocturne 2009. I am so happy about this as this is truly one of the books of my heart from THE CALLING Vampire novels. So for today, I’m sharing a sexy moment from when Blake and Meghan first meet in FURY CALLS.
I hope you enjoy today’s wicked excerpt!
Excerpt is for 17 and over only please
She led the way, the sharp staccato sounds of her high-heeled boots setting a rhythm as they walked to the farthest room on the left and paused before the door. He detected her hesitation then in the slight hitch her breath gave and the waver of her hand in his.
“Nervous?” He cradled her cheek, his touch meant to soothe, but as his gaze met hers, he sensed her sudden reluctance.
Her eyes were an amazing emerald green and as her gaze swept over his face, she said, “I have a confession to make.”
“Kind of cliché at this moment, don’t you think?”
A hint of bravado flared to life in her eyes, bringing a plucky twinkle there. “Actually, the confession is that I’m kind of glad I accepted my friend’s dare.”
“A dare? Is that what I am, love?”
She shocked him by rising a bit on her tiptoes — they were almost of a like height — and kissing him. Her lips were warm and alive as she swept them across his mouth and then cradled his cheek with her hand. When she finally broke away, she trailed her thumb across the slick wetness her lips had left behind on his, strumming alive intense desire with that seductive touch.
It had been way too long since a woman had been able to reach that part of him.
“What do you think?” she said and with a wink, she opened the door, but stopped short at the sight of the far side of the room, where an assortment of whips, chains and cuffs were tacked to the wall.
He slipped in behind her and laid his hands at her waist. Bending, he whispered in her ear, “I don’t think we’ll have need of those.”
“At least not tonight,” she said, striving for a bravado that she wasn’t feeling at the sight of the wall. This definitely was not the kind of thing she had expected to encounter.
Nervously Meghan placed her hands over his as they rested at her waist. His hands were chilled. With the same reticence she was suddenly experiencing? she wondered.
“Having second thoughts?” she asked as she faced him, but he moved his hands to cradle her back. His movements were sure and yet surprisingly tender as he swept them up to beneath the shoulders of her jacket. With a deft touch, he slipped it off her and let it fall to the ground.
“That’s better,” he said.
He ran his hands across the skin of her bare arms and the exposed expanse of her shoulders. Stroking her softly, the palms of his hands slightly rough against her skin. The hands those of someone who physically worked for a living.
“You’re so warm. Smooth.”
His gentle touch roused emotion in her and drove away her earlier hesitation. She had expected from the rough look of him that he wouldn’t be much for preliminaries, but she had been wrong, she realized, as he took his time as he passed his hands over her skin before bending a bit.
The kiss started with a soft whisper of his lips against hers as he explored the shape of her mouth before he finally covered her mouth with his. The kiss was tentative at first, but then he deepened it by degrees until she was finally straining against him, her hands fisted in the soft leather of his jacket, pulling herself closer to him.
He took the next step then, easing his jacket off. It fell to the floor with a jangle of chains.
Beneath the jacket he wore a black t-shirt that hugged every hard line of his lean body and Meghan found that she was suddenly impatient to see more.
She grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it up and over his head, exposing a body that looked to be sculpted from palest alabaster.
He wasn’t a tall man, barely inches over her own five-foot-seven height, but what there was of him was magnificently formed male. Broad shoulders, big enough to bear any burden, were thick with hard muscles that were smooth beneath the palms of her hands as she laid them there. She measured the strength in them before trailing her fingers down to his well-defined chest where she briefly skimmed them down the ridges of his abdomen and then back up. She ran her fingers through the pale whorls of hair on his chest which matched the arrogant color of his head.
“You really are a blond,” she teased and stroked her index finger over the hard nub of his nipple.
“Are you?” he asked and picked up his hand, trailed the rough pads of his fingers along the swell of her breasts exposed by the low neckline of the tank top and the push-up bra she had worn. His actions dragged an immediate response as her nipples tightened in anticipation of his touch.
She looked up at him and curved her lips in what she hoped was a seductive smile. “You may have to wait a bit to find out.”
Blake laughed, her bravado stirring something deep within him. Something that couldn’t wait a second longer to take their little interlude to the next step.
He reached for the neckline of her tank top and slipped his fingers beneath, pulling away both shirt and bra with a quick tug. He heard the snap of the bra strap and felt the give as her breast slipped free of all the fabric.
Her creamy skin was a sharp contrast to the black of her clothing. A flush worked over her flesh at his perusal, tempting him to feel the warmth of it against his palm.
He cupped her and the heat of the hard tip of her nipple seemed to bore a hole into the palm of his hand, but he somehow restrained himself. He moved his hand, cupping her breast so he could stroke her nipple with his thumb before taking it between his thumb and forefinger and applying gentle pressure.
It dragged a soft moan from her and she copied his actions, tweaking his hard male nipple with her fingers, jerking his erection to painful life.
Her gaze slipped there for but a moment before she leaned forward and closed her mouth over his nipple.
He shut his eyes against the sensation that rocketed through his body with her touch and focused on the feel of her breast in his hand, all warm and creamy. Her pulse beat was loud in his ears and vibrated against his hand as it rested inches away from her heart, reminding him of what he was not.
Alive. Alive. Alive, drummed loudly in his head like the beat of her pulse.
“You’re cold,” she said and in response, he called forth a bit of his demon, driving away the chill in his body to allay her concern.
“Blake?” she asked and he realized that he didn’t even know her name.
“That’s my name and you’re . . .”
“Meghan,” she said in a husky whisper as he bent his head and took her hard nipple into his mouth.
She cradled him close, her hand snaking through his hair to keep him near as she arched her back.
Not that he was going anywhere, he thought, as he sucked on her nipple and relished the soft mewl of pleasure that came from her.
He shifted his other hand upward, tugged down the rest of her shirt and bra so that he could caress her other breast as he continued to pleasure her with his mouth until it wasn’t enough.
“Touch me, Meghan,” he almost begged and when she ran her hands across the width of his shoulders, he surged upward, wrapping his arms around her waist and crushing her tight to his body.
“Blake, what — ”
He silenced her with a kiss as he walked with her to the edge of the bed, but then he slowly eased her down his body, the smooth hard tips of her breasts brushing along him, awakening fire wherever she touched. The sensation pulled a shiver from him, but Meghan’s hands were quickly running across his shoulders again, as if to gentle him.
“Has it been that long?” she asked, surprising him with her sensitivity.
He shocked himself by admitting, “Since I felt something like this? Too long, love.”
“Why?” she wondered aloud even as she tenderly ran her hands across his shoulders and then let them dip down to cover the muscles of his chest with one hand while she placed the other flat over his heart.
Her touch reached deep within him, to emotions he thought he had suppressed long ago. Covering her hand with his, he said, “Let’s not go there tonight.”
He didn’t think it was possible that the green of her eyes could get any darker, but with his words, her pupils deepened to almost black with emotion. Reaching up, she cradled his cheek, tracing the sharp line of it.
“Where would you like to go tonight?”
“To heaven,” he said as he bent his head and took her lips with his once again.
“Heaven it is, then,” Meghan murmured as she accepted the gentle pass of his lips over hers. His touch was tentative, almost pleading. The emotions it roused sank its hooks deep into her heart, scaring her with the intensity of the sensation.
She laid her hands on his shoulders, gentled him by running her hands across the solid width of them. He had one elbow propped on the lumpy mattress beneath them, keeping his body away from her, but with that urging, he relaxed and lay beside her fully. Their bodies barely brushed, but it was enough to make her want more.
Sweeping one hand down from where she had been caressing his shoulder, she cupped the swell of his pectoral muscle and ran her thumb across the hard nub. A small shudder racked his body, emboldening her.
“Ah, love. That feels good,” he said, breaking the contact of their lips. He looked down to her hand where she continued to strum his tight nipple.
She smiled, filled with a bravado she hadn’t known she possessed. With a playful tone she said, “Well if it feels good to you, I imagine that it might feel good for me, too.”
He chuckled and met her gaze, amusement glittering in his crystal blue eyes. With a cocky grin on his face, he passed the back of his hand across her breast, dragging a rough sigh from her at the pleasure that simple touch created in her core.
“Is that the sound of good, luv?”
“Yes,” she said with a sigh and took his nipple between her fingers, rotated it gently. At their hips, where their bodies were closest, the jump of his erection as it hardened even further created a sympathetic pull between her legs. She twined her legs with his and he pushed his thigh upward, tight against the growing pulse at her center.
As she rode him, trying to assuage her need, he took her hard nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Pulled on it gently before a playful twist yanked a moan from her.
He immediately seized on that sound of desire.
“So was that the sound of . . . even better?” he teased, even as he was bending his head and she was arching her back, offering herself up to him.
His hard mobile lips closed over her nipple. He sucked the tip before circling the hard nub with his tongue and then teething the tip into an even tighter point. She cradled his head close and as he suckled her, she bumped her hips against his and shifted her center along the hard muscles of his thigh.
He responded by increasing the pull of his mouth and insinuating his thigh ever tighter against her.
She rode him with growing need, but recalling his earlier playfulness and wanting to join in it, she said, “And this is the sound of un-freakin’-believable,” and finally released the low long moan that had built within her at his actions.
Her words pulled a rough laugh from him and made his already full erection swell to painful proportions. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in her . . . except possibly a taste of her humanity.
A bite of the life held tight against him. Her heart beat furiously against his ear as he once again brought his mouth to her breast and suckled. The warmth of her — her mortal warmth — bathed his upper body with heat. The smell of her — musky femininity — covered by the tight jeans that she wore brought sweet temptation.
The bit of vampire he had released earlier to warm her became a pool of heat at the center of him, growing ever stronger with each touch and taste of her. As she slipped her hand downward and covered his erection, a shudder ripped through him and the fire of the vampire flared across his body, breaking free and wanting dominion.
He fought the demon’s control, fearing the strength of the emotion she had called forth. Afraid of it even as he acknowledged that he had never experienced anything like it in either of his lives.
She must have sensed the difference in him since she urged him up from her breast and rubbed her lips against his. “I’m afraid too, Blake. I’m afraid of how much I like the way I feel with you.”
Her confession undid the last dregs of his human and released the demon.
“Forgive me, love,” he said as he gently eased her head to the side and bit down.
Pain seared through her neck, but immediately after came intense desire that made her entire body throb for fulfillment.
Meghan held him close, moaning and riding his thigh as desire gripped her hard, refusing to let go much like he seemed unable to release her. The pulse of her need beat through her body and seemed to echo from his, but little by little that beat grew weaker and erratic. Somehow she realized that the fading rhythm was that of her heart, failing slowly as Blake continued to suck at her neck until only a negligible thrum remained.
Cold enveloped her body. Weakness. Her extremities became nearly numb and useless.
As Blake finally pulled away, she caught a glimpse of his face. Long, blood-stained fangs extended well beyond his upper lip. The ice blue of his eyes burned with almost phosphorescent brightness and called to her as her eyesight dimmed.
“Sweet Jesus, Meghan. I’m sorry, love. So sorry,” he said, but his words were growing distant, as if she was fading away and maybe she was.
A part of her brain understood that she was dying and that part struggled to hold on. To not let go of what little life remained. That consciousness latched onto the feel of him cradling her. Of the wetness of tears on her face and then the saltiness of something warm against her lips.
“Drink, Meghan,” she heard and knew that he was offering her life. She didn’t know how she knew it, she just did, as if something deep in her subconscious had elemental knowledge of what he offered.
All that she knew at that moment was that she didn’t want to die.
She was only twenty-one and she wasn’t ready to die.
She opened her mouth and placed it against the flesh he offered. Drank of the warmth of his life’s blood. With each pull of her mouth and each sip, strength grew in her body. Unbelievable strength that touched each cell until she was able to force herself away from him.
With a brutal shove she drove him from her and as he rose from the floor beside the bed where he had fallen, he gazed down at her with eyes filled with tears, but they created no emotion in her other than hatred. Within her, fury rose with the realization that he had irrevocably changed her life.
She sat up and grabbed at her clothes and when he would have reached for her, she slapped away his hands.
“Don’t touch me. Don’t ever touch me again.”
“Ever is a long time now, luv,” he said sadly.
“It is forever now, isn’t it? You made me something other than human.”
At his nod, she said, “I’ll hate you forever.”
He morphed back to his human form then and despite her statement, emotion rose up in her at the sadness in his eyes and at the words he uttered next.
“No need to waste your emotion, Meghan. I’ll hate myself on your behalf.”