Three Sweet Nothings is coming on December 12th - your dirty sweet tooth will thank you!
Keep reading for an extra hot excerpt!
Blurb
Five years ago, we’d been together and on fire, but the flames burned us both. Now she’s back in my life and is all my wildest fantasies in the flesh.
I want her. The desire is too powerful to argue against, but I’m not interested in what we had. This is an arrangement about pleasure and finding out who we are behind closed doors. There won’t be talk of love or any sweet nothings whispered by either of us.
This time, I’ll control the heat between us and make sure neither of our hearts get too close to the flames.
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I grasped Ruby’s hips and dropped a final kiss on her mouth. “Turn around,” I said, using the most seductive voice I had. “Finish what you were doing.”
She rotated slowly in my hold until her back was to me. Then she picked up the sifter with one hand, and turned the crank on the side with her other.
Perfect. I skated my fingers along the waistline of her jeans, moving steadily toward the front, putting my arms around her.
Her voice was all-knowing. “What are you doing?”
“Don’t worry about it.” I popped the button free at the top of her fly, and nuzzled my way into the crook of her neck. The loose hairs that had slipped out of her ponytail tickled my nose. She shivered when my mouth connected with her soft skin. Did she smell like vanilla because of her baking, or because she was just fucking delicious?
“Oh,” she sighed, and the sifter slowed to a distracted crawl.
I nibbled the curve of her neck while inching down her zipper. My voice was sinful. “We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet, and you’re already losing focus.”
The crank resumed its noisy turning, but she tilted her head to the side, granting me more access to feast on her neck. Every little shudder and sigh she gave was so fucking sexy. I wanted to devour her.
When her task appeared to be done, I slid my hand down the front of her undone jeans and eased my fingers inside her panties. Jesus, she was wet already, and my cock hardened. I pressed it against the flat of her ass, letting her feel what she did to me.
“Oh, God,” she jerked when I twitched my fingers. The metal sifter clattered on the counter so she could brace herself with her hands. I sucked hard on her neck, not caring if I gave her a hickey like I was a goddamn teenage boy.
I wasn’t above marking her as mine. That was what she’d be after tonight. I was already hooked on her, so it only seemed fair.
Her hands gripped the counter’s edge so furiously, they went white as I traced my fingers over her damp clit. Her head tilted and lolled backward until it was heavy on my shoulder. Ruby’s eyes were closed and her mouth open so she could suck in labored breaths.
“What’s next?” I asked. “You need to add the flour to the eggs?”
She nodded, not even opening her eyes, although she made a face. Like my question was annoying and had disturbed her contentment.
“Then get to it.” I withdrew my hand and gripped the sides of her jeans and panties. I jerked them down her long legs, revealing her beautiful, creamy skin.
We were right beside the mixer and it meant she didn’t have to walk anywhere, which was good. Her jeans and underwear were wadded around her ankles. She looked amazing like this. The long sweater stopped just where her cheeks did, and it teased me with flashes of the bottom of her ass whenever she moved.
I grabbed the oven mitts I’d thrown off, put them on the floor behind her, and knelt on them, giving me a much better view of her perfect ass.
There was noise from the counter above. She’d pulled a clean rubber spatula from the dish rack and, in her haste, she’d nearly dumped the whole thing over. I fanned my hands around the globes of her bottom and squeezed, causing her to jolt once again.
She was so cute. Flustered and sexy, but she was standing up straight. “Bend over a little. I need to see that pussy, sweetheart.”
Whoa.
A rush of memories came flooding back. When we’d been together, I’d called her
sweetheart occasionally. It slipped out now before I could stop it. A habit that wouldn’t die, or something more? She followed my command, leaning over, and it caused the sweater to lift and expose more of her nakedness.
She was all pink, and lush, and mine.
“Oh, fuck.” She gasped the words as I bent forward and buried my face in the seam of her legs. “Kyle. I can’t do anything when you’re doing that.”
“You can, and you will. Finish,” I gave her a playful bite on a cheek, “or you don’t get to.”
She groaned, both in satisfaction and frustration as I resumed teasing her with my tongue. She tasted so good. Sweet. Perfect. A taste I couldn’t get enough of.
Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and manages a team of graphic artists. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, is married with two sons, writes dirty books, and couldn’t be any happier.
