About the Authors:
Lily Harlem
Lily Harlem
lives in the UK with Mr Harlem and a host of rescued animals. She is an award
winning author of contemporary erotic romance and writes for publishers on both
sides of the Atlantic including Ellora's Cave, HarperCollins, Total-E-Bound,
Xcite and Sweetmeats Press as well as self-publishing. Her HOT ICE series
regularly receives high praise and industry nominations and sportsmen who are
talented both in and out of the bedroom often feature in her novels. But
whichever book you choose of Lily's one thing you can be sure of is it will be
wildly romantic and down-and-dirty sexy. Enjoy!
Lucy Felthouse
Lucy
Felthouse is a very busy woman! She writes erotica and erotic romance in a
variety of subgenres and pairings, and has over seventy publications to her
name, with many more in the pipeline. These include Best Bondage Erotica 2012,
2013 and 2014 and Best Women's Erotica 2013. Another string to her bow is
editing, and she has edited and co-edited a number of anthologies. She owns Erotica For
All, and is book editor for Cliterati.
Find out more at http://www.lucyfelthouse.co.uk.
Join her on Facebook and Twitter,
and subscribe to her newsletter at: http://eepurl.com/gMQb9
Blurb:
California
had seduced me with promises of a new life working at Los Carlos Tennis
Academy. What I didn’t expect was the dark, brooding number one seed, Travis
Connolly, resisting my help. He wasn’t interested in my psychology skills.
Instead his attention was drawn to the edgy, sharper corners of my desires,
proving that they existed, setting me challenges and driving me crazy to the
point of combustion.
I’m
the best tennis player in the world—officially—so why would I need a damn woman
full of psychobabble to get me on form? Despite my irritation, however, I can’t
resist pushing Marie Sherratt’s buttons even though doing that shows her the
darkest shades of my lust, the parts of me I buried deep. So I set her a
challenge, one she rises to, one that has me rising too, and before long my
game relies on her calling the shots, hitting the target and bending to my
will. One thing was certain, being not just master of the court, but also of
Marie is seriously good for my soul.
Available from:
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Excerpt:
I
looked into his eyes. Swallowed and tasted his cologne as it traveled into my
nostrils and then laced my tongue. “Would you consider them to be good people,
Travis? These individuals that like to hurt others."
“I’ve
known a few people who like to give and receive higher sensations, and most of
them I consider to be good friends as well as good people.”
I
hesitated, felt his body heat radiating toward me, wrapping around me as I
pondered his words. We were close, very close, and his consuming presence made
logical thinking much harder than normal. “I’m not quite sure what you’re
telling me.”
“You
talk about pain like it’s a bad thing, Marie.”
“It
is.”
He
smiled but it wasn’t a sweet smile, more like one of a hunter who’d spotted
prey.
“Pain
is unpleasant for a reason,” I said. “Because it’s bad.”
“I
disagree.” He raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes. It was a challenging,
cocky gesture.
A
tingle snaked its way up my spine and threatened to wreak havoc in my body by
turning into a tremble. But I beat it down. I wouldn’t let a patient get to me
this way. I was the one supposed to be holding the reins here.
“Maybe,
Marie, you should open your mind to new ideas with a little more grace.”
“I
fail to see how I haven’t been graceful in discussing your theory that pain is
good.”
“Can
we keep it that way?”
“I
hope so.”
“In
that case,” he flicked his attention from my eyes and looked at my hair, “would
you like me to demonstrate?”
Damn,
the guy made me feel tiny. Even though I was wearing heels, his broad chest and
wide shoulders were looming over me. “Okay.”
He
twitched the right side of his mouth into a half-smile. Now he looked like a
hunter who’d captured his prey. A trickle of fight or flight seeped into my
system. Which would be my best option?
“Now
that’s the first rule.” He reached up and undid the clasp holding my hair on
the top of my head. It tumbled around my shoulders as the clasp fell to the
floor. “Consent.”
“Doesn’t
consent require knowing what you’re agreeing to?” Fuck, with him this close and
stroking my hair, spreading it out, I’d pretty much agree to anything. Who was
I kidding? Fight or flight was not an option, the only thing that shot through
my mind was giving myself over to him. Allowing him to do whatever he wanted,
control my body, feed it what it needed.
Damn,
it had been too long since I’d been with a man. It was making me desperate.
He
slotted his other hand over the left side of my head, the sound of him sliding
his fingers over the shell of my ear noisy. My breath hitched and I locked my
knees to stabilize my stance. I stared up at him, noting the small shafts of
black hair sneaking out of his skin on his chin and the way his bottom lip was
a little plumper than the top.
“You
see, some pain,” he said, gathering my hair up at my crown and tugging to
create tension on the roots, “can heighten the awareness of everything else
going on in the body.”
He
pulled harder, forcing my head to tip back.
I
gasped as discomfort shot across my scalp.
He
increased the pressure a little more.
I
reached out and clutched at his shirt, felt his hard chest beneath. “Travis,
I—”
“Shh,
I’m just showing you.” He slipped his arm around my waist, dragged me close and
yanked my hair, really hard.
“Ow,
I—” A barrage of sensations blasted through my system. The feel of him pressing
up against me, hot hard male, all wide pecs and solid thighs. The pain from
having my hair tugged with force, and the awareness that my belly was shoved
right up against his groin. A groin that held a wedge of thick flesh.
“Just
feel,” he whispered, hovering his lips over mine. “Endorphins are rushing into
your bloodstream, giving you a natural high as pain alerts your nerve endings
that something exciting is happening.” He slid his free hand up my back,
tracing the outline of my spine through my blouse.
I
breathed in the air he was breathing out, warm and sweet. The scream of hurt in
my scalp made me want to wriggle but being held so firmly and confidently kept
me still. The heat of the discomfort slipped down my nape and neck and over my
shoulders, then combined with the lovely sensation of him stroking my back.
“Can
you feel it?” he whispered. “Pain mixing with pleasure, the lines between the
two blurring.”
I
could feel it with every fiber of my being. My skin was alive with awareness,
my breasts were heavy and desperate for stimulation, and between my legs I was
buzzing for action. Good, hard man action, preferably of the naked, sweaty
variety. “Yes,” I gasped.
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