LIPSTICK ON HIS COLLAR

Coming from Samhain Publishing

November 23rd 2010

In three long strides, he stood in front of her. She was tall, the top of her head reaching his nose, her mouth not far from his. She tilted her head back, smiled and kept dancing. Green shouldn’t smolder but her eyes did. Bram forgot all about the possibility she had a partner—didn’t even consider she might slap him—and lowered his head. Her hips kept time with the sensual melody and her hands skated up his chest to circle his neck. For one long second he paused, drawing in her breath, tasting her desire as it mingled with his.

A feminine scent of citrus and sunshine wafted to his nose as she leaned close, nuzzling his cheek. Her kiss seared his bones. This was no gentle first kiss. It was a detonation of lust, yearning and passion like he’d never felt.

Sexual combustion.

The song ended but he kept kissing her. Another livelier song began and she kept kissing him. Her lips parted and his tongue slipped in to find hers waiting. Drowning in the savory taste of her mouth, he tugged her close. Full heavy breasts pressed against his chest and her hips moved against his groin. She had to feel how hard he was, but she just circled her hips more firmly. His hand slid down to cup her ass.

“Hey, take it out of here. We got kids around.” A gruff-voiced intrusion pulled Bram’s lips from hers and he stared down into her face. Lust burned bright in her eyes. The flashing lights sparked like tiny fires in her gaze and her chest heaved as hard as his. Taking his hand, she stepped back and pulled him toward the crowd at the dance floor edge. Everything else faded away. In his lusty red-tinged sight, all he could see was her, beckoning him.

She rounded the firehouse, slipping into the slanted shadows between the fire station and the hardware store. Bram quickened his pace. The narrow passage held deeply muted darkness and he nearly collided into her. She spun around, and in an instant, he had her back against the wall, his mouth taking hers. Semi-privacy emboldened him and the kiss deepened, jacking his hunger higher.

Short nails raked down his spine and her breasts thrust up. He cupped one, thumbing the tight crest until a whimper eked from her mouth. It tasted of spicy homemade wine and forbidden promises.

“What’s your name?” he whispered between tastes of her.

“What do you want it to be?”

Pulling his hand from her breast, he touched her bottom lip. She licked his fingertip. He bent for another kiss and his smile caressed hers. “Seriously, what’s your name?”

“What’s yours?”

“Bram. Bram Wi—”

Her hand flew to his mouth. “Just Bram, okay?”

So that’s the game we’re going to play. Nodding his head, his tongue flicked out, stroking her palm. She smoothed her fingertips across his lip and he caught one, sucking it into his mouth for a fast nip. “Okay. What do I call you?”

“Yours.” She took his mouth hard, fingers tugging at his hair until he was gasping. He pulled back to suck in oxygen. She leaned her head on the brick and looked at him. Filtered sunlight showed him her tilted kiss-swollen lips. “You’re not from here.”

“No, just passing through for work.”

Her fingers slid from his hair down to his neck, slipping into the vee of his collar. She toyed with the button before opening it. Her mouth teased with a lick and her words brought a shiver. “Where are you staying?”

“The Sleepytime Motel.” He grinned. “Is there anywhere else to stay in this rinky little town?”

She smoothed her hands down his chest to circle his waist. “No. I’ve got a business opportunity for you, Bram.”

A warning light flashed in his brain. Oh shit no. He pulled his frame away from hers, held a tiny space between them. Did he nearly get suckered by a pro? Humiliation circled outside his lust, waiting to pounce. He’d never paid for ass and wasn’t about to start, no matter how hot she was. “Business…like as in…professional? Are you a prostitute?”

Her laugh chimed like music, ringing with surprise but not shame. “Oh God no, I just feel daring and wild and…I want to play…with you.”

Hallelujah. Thank you, God, for women’s lib and sexual freedom. His hard-on returned with throbbing force. “What kind of business proposition?”

“My business.” Her lips caressed his Adam’s apple. “And your business.” Along his thigh, her leg crept higher, pressing her damp feminine heat into his groin. “And nobody else’s business.”

“Alright, I’m listening.”

She angled her head, shaking her dark gold hair from her heart-shaped face. “Right this second, what do you want the most?”

A shift pressed his erection into her stomach. “One guess.”

Her eyes closed and a carnal smile lifted her cheeks, rounding the flushed color. Her mouth found his neck again and her tongue slicked to his jaw. “Anything you want. Just give me the night. Treat me like your queen and I’ll be your everything.”

Thundering need pounded in his belly when her fingers dropped to trace the outline of his cock through his zipper. It strained toward her touch and any doubts he might have had disintegrated with a shudder. “Elizabeth, Victoria or Mary, Queen of Scots?”

Like a whiskey-laced tonic, her laugh shot through him. She licked up his chin. “Isis. Artemis. Athena. Venus.”

His chuckle stirred her hair. “Those are goddesses, not queens.”

“Then make me your goddess and I’ll take you to heaven.”

Accompanying her promise was the long, slow slide of his zipper and a groan ripped through him. Her hand delved deep, curving around the head of his dick. His eyes slid closed and he clung to the sizzle of pleasure. This libido-intoxication was too alien to examine right now. The sensations raged too exotic, too intense to dissect and scrutinize. He chose to relish the unexpected and uncharacteristic flash of lust in hedonistic fashion, thrusting his hips closer.

This wasn’t him. He didn’t pick up strange woman, nameless ones at that, and indulge in wild one-night stands. Some men in his position might, but not him. But he was going to. Tonight. With her. Whatever her name was. Self-recrimination could come later.

Steamy hot and erotic, her tongue rasped over his jaw and down his neck, nipping, biting. Her hand stroked him, a too-slow rhythm that only propelled his hunger. She could be whoever she wanted, have anything she wanted—his car, his wallet, maybe she wanted his left nut, it didn’t matter.

“What do you want, lady?”

“Cotton candy and night at the fair. After that, you, hard and fast…and more than once.”