Razor's Edge: Men in Blue, Book 2 (40 page)

“James, are you dumping me?” She chewed her lip.

“Hell, no.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I’m screwing this up. I just thought you should know why I bought you…what I did. It’s not a ring, Izzy. I need time to save up for something nice anyway.”

“What?” She shook her head, confused. “I don’t need a rock to tell me you love me. And I don’t need time to know I love you too. Forever.”

He leaned forward to kiss her with soft, lingering strokes of his lips on hers.

“Then our timeline won’t matter. Someday, in a year or maybe two, we’ll get engaged. Married. Have a family. But, for now…”

He got to his feet, crossing to the door. When he opened it, Leo waved from the landing. Izzy had tracked the homeless man down and helped him find a job, an apartment, a new start. He’d always enjoyed animals and had hoped to train as a vet before life had screwed him over. With two hometown heroes vouching for him, it hadn’t taken long for the local animal shelter to snap him up.

“What’s going on?” Isabella asked from behind Razor.

Before he could explain, the puppy he’d picked out from the pound rushed between his legs in a beeline for his new owner. Izzy dropped to her knees with a squeal of delight as the silly thing’s ears flopped, its tail wagged and its tongue lolled. Razor silently apologized to the little guy for the ridiculous red bow tied to its collar.

The puppy didn’t seem to mind as it launched itself at Izzy, knocking them both into a heap of excited joy. Their friend laughed before he winked and turned to go. In the time it took Razor to promise Leo they’d come by to visit later and lock the door behind him, Isabella and the puppy had become inseparable.

She hugged the bundle of energy to her. It licked her face.

“You gave me a puppy.” The adoration in her eyes bowled him over as he sat beside her.

“A starter family, I guess.” He grinned when she flung herself into his arms, the puppy squirming between them.

“Look at the size of his paws.” Her eyes grew wide. “He’ll need a yard. A big one.”

“Yeah.” Razor nodded. “If you’re up for the house stage, I thought we might all move in together. Until we’re ready for whatever comes next.”

Isabella didn’t say anything. Tears pooled in her eyes.

“Oh shit, are you disappointed?” Maybe he should have proposed after all. God knew, he’d never change his mind about her.

“No.” She set the dog on the ground. He immediately ran off to find trouble. Neither of them minded. “He’s perfect. You’re perfect. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Izzy.”

“You know, James. You were right…” She wrapped her legs around his waist and licked the column of his neck. Her breath washed over his ear. “We should watch this later.”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’d like to see us kick ass in the finale of
Dance With Me
for the twentieth time.” He gritted his teeth as he tried to ignore the undulation of her steaming core on his abdomen. His cock begged him to quit teasing them both. “You were smoking hot when we danced to ‘Calle Ocho’. Almost too sexy for network TV. I swear that dress earned them a big, fat fine.”

“Blame Arthur, not me.”

“Oh, I think I owe that man a hefty Christmas present this year.”

“If you want, I’ll wear it for you while you…” she whispered the rest in his ear.

His resolve cracked, his hands flexing on her ass.

“Razor.” She growled before nipping his ear. “Bedroom, now.”

“At your service, princess.”

About the Author

Jayne Rylon’s stories usually begin as a daydream in an endless business meeting. Her writing acts as a creative counterpoint to her straight-laced corporate existence. She lives in Ohio with two cats and her husband who both inspires her fantasies and supports her careers. When she can escape her office, she loves to travel the world, avoid speeding tickets in her beloved Sky and, of course, read.

Jayne is a member of the Romance Writers of America (RWA), the Central Ohio Fiction Writers (COFW), International Heat and Passionate Ink. To learn more about her, please visit
www.jaynerylon.com
, send an email to
[email protected]
or join in the fun at International Heat,
internationalheat.wordpress.com
.

Look for these titles by Jayne Rylon

Now Available:

Nice and Naughty

Dream Machine

Ménage and More

Three’s Company

Men In Blue

Night is Darkest

Powertools

Kate’s Crew

Coming Soon:

Powertools

Morgan’s Surprise

Kayla’s Gifts

Devon’s Pair

Men in Blue

Mistress’s Master

Compass Brothers

Northern Exposure

Southern Comfort

Eastern Ambitions

Western Ties

Nothing’s sexier than a man, or five, with power tools.

Kate’s Crew

© 2010 Jayne Rylon

Sultry summer heat has nothing on the five-man crew renovating the house next door. No one could blame Kate for leaning out the window for a better view of the manscape. The nasty fall that follows isn’t part of her fantasy—but the man who saves her from splattering the sidewalk is definitely the star.

When Mike personally attends to her injuries, she realizes her white knight in a hard hat has a tender side, giving her no choice but to surrender to the lust that’s been arcing between them since day one. In the aftermath of the best sex of her life, she whispers her most secret desire: to be ravaged by his crew.

She never expected Mike would dare her to take what she wants—or that the freedom to make her most decadent desires come true could be the foundation for something lasting…

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Kate’s Crew:

Where the hell had Mike disappeared to? Kate shouldn’t care, but she did. She scolded herself when she scanned the yard for the tenth time that minute. She’d spent the morning trying to ignore his insufferable smirk, as he strutted around the site, while mentally reciting all the reasons she couldn’t accept his unconventional proposition.

Despite this morning’s wake-up call, affairs weren’t her style. The unwise urge to prevent him from walking away after one sweaty liaison had almost overwhelmed her sense of self-preservation. Instead, she’d driven her hand beneath her thigh to keep from reaching out to tug him into bed for another romp following his shower. She couldn’t risk getting any more involved. No matter how she prayed she could change, she would always want more—something lasting.

The thunk of her forehead hitting the sheetrock patch she’d finished installing an hour ago almost drowned out her sigh. Her cell phone vibrated, alerting her to an incoming text message. Every hypersensitive nerve in her body jumped to attention.

She flipped open the phone. Mike.

Meet me in our laundry room. Come in through the garage. Quiet. Quick.

Ignoring his command would be prudent. Also impossible.

Kate sprinted along the hall then took the stairs two at a time before racing out the rear entrance. She hopped the low stone wall dividing their properties then snuck into the neighboring garage like a cat burglar working a world-class heist.

Her hand brushed the doorknob leading from the car bay into the house, where the washer and drier would one day go, but she got drawn inside before she could turn it. Mike’s powerful arms surrounded her, pressing her spine to his taut abdomen. The ridge of his constant hard-on fit in the valley of her ass, covered only by the thin material of her Capri sweats and her thong.

“What—”

The astringent odor of sealant wafted up from his hand, which covered her mouth. In the pitch-black, the brush of his lips on the shell of her ear startled her. She flinched at his raspy whisper. “I want to show you something. Everyone lusts. Everyone fantasizes. When your lover respects you, you should feel free to explore your desires. No matter how extreme.”

Her eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Slits of light gleamed through the louvers on the interior laundry-room door, which faced into the kitchen of Mike’s fixer-upper. Now that she could hear past the galloping of her heart, she froze. A masculine moan echoed off the tiled surfaces of the vacant living space. No, make that several moans.

“Want to see what it could be like?” The plane of Mike’s chest cradled her as he inched them closer to forbidden delights with shuffles of his steel-toed boots. His hands encircled her waist. The tips of his fingers teased the hem of her tank top. Then they slid beneath it to rub irresistible circles over the skin on either side of her belly button.

Kate shivered in his hold.

“Go ahead, take a peek.” He bumped her with his pelvis, grinding against her.

She worried her lip between her teeth as she debated. But the next primal grunt of pleasure dissolved all traces of resistance. Before she knew what she intended, her fingers tucked in the slats at eye level and her nose smooshed against the cool, painted wood.

Oh. My. God.

From this angle, she caught the strong profiles of both James and Neil. Tall and lithe, Neil leaned on the end of the countertop for support, his jeans unbuttoned. Framed in worn denim, his cock jutted from the vee of his fly. James hovered a mere half inch away from the head. His lips parted, glistening with saliva, as though waiting for permission.

“Suck it.” The gruff command reverberated through the space, causing a trickle of wetness to run onto Kate’s thighs.

In the kitchen, Neil buried his fingers in James’s sun-bronzed hair, using the grip to tug the kneeling man closer still. With two fingers, he aimed his erect shaft straight for James’s open mouth. When he slid inside, balls-deep with a single stroke, the look of rapture on both men’s faces stole her breath.

From behind her, Mike’s hands travelled lower, dipping beneath the waistband of her pants. He shoved them over her hips until they pooled on the floor. “Mmm…you smell delicious. Wet already? I thought you might enjoy the show.”

He cut short her whimper when he tilted her face for a scorching kiss. But he didn’t steal her concentration from the other men for long. When she turned her head back, they had paused. Had they heard her?

Please, don’t stop!

As though they read her thoughts, the two men resumed their rough play. James’s stout throat worked around Neil’s embedded cock. She almost cried out again when his jaw slid forward, dragging his lower lip over Neil’s tight sac.

“Fuck! Where did you learn that trick?” Neil panted.

“From me.”

Kate’s eyes widened as Dave strolled in from the living room. An impressive bulge tented the front of his cargo shorts. His hulking frame and towering stature might have been intimidating if he weren’t so quick to joke or lend a helping hand when needed.

“Son of a bitch. Can’t you two go five minutes without getting off?” Joe followed a step behind Dave. “We have a deadline…”

He should have saved his breath. James continued to give Neil what looked like a world-class blow job. She thought Neil’s gaze flickered toward her and Mike’s hiding spot, but he didn’t say anything.

Joe grinned, then shrugged at Dave. “Now’s as good a time as any for a break. We need them to concentrate when we snap the chalk lines for the patio or everything will be out of square, and we’ll spend all afternoon fixing it anyway.”

The easygoing partner stripped his shorts off in two seconds flat. His cock, bare beneath the khaki, sprang free. He put one hand on the counter then hopped up beside Neil with animal grace. When his balls rested on the cool marble they’d upgraded to, he hissed.

“Come on, Dave. I see you checking out James’s ass. What are you waiting for?”

First impressions can be dead wrong.

Close Quarters

© 2008 Denise A. Agnew

Hot Zone, Book 4

Neena Williamson is positive the man who just walked into her favorite café is all wrong for the local charity’s new hot male calendar. For starters, he’s wearing the most butt-ugly Hawaiian shirt on the face of the earth. He doesn’t fit anyone’s image of a smokin’ hardbody, even if her friend insists he’s perfect for Mr. December.

When a gunman robs the café, Mr. December proves that underneath his bad taste in clothes, he knows how to bring it.

Clarksville, Wyoming is the perfect place for Mitch Gilroy to hide in plain sight. He enjoys his low-key handyman job, and no one pries into his former life. But in an instant, Mitch is forced to remember everything he’s tried so hard to forget.

Thrown together by sudden violence, Neena and Mitch quickly discover how tangled their emotions can become. And the only way to banish the monsters that haunt them is to do the one thing they fear most. Become vulnerable—to each other.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Close Quarters:

Mitch unlocked the screen door and front door, eager to lead Neena inside and discover how quickly he could bring her into his arms and taste her delicious skin under his tongue. He ached; his cock had been hard as a rock for what seemed forever.

Rain pounded on the porch as thunder rolled and tumbled. Another flash of electricity followed close behind. Mitch fumbled with the keys before he jammed the right one into the lock. He couldn’t remember the last time nerves had caused him uncertainty with a woman. Last time he’d been nineteen and losing his virginity. God, why did he think about that now? Neena probably wasn’t a virgin—she’d kissed like a woman who’d experienced passion before, and although her responses had been hesitant at first, once she did respond, she’d heated like a firecracker ready to ignite. He wanted her in his arms again. If he’d thought they wouldn’t get caught, he would have taken her there in his car. He would have unfastened his pants, tore away her pantyhose and panties and found her heat and wetness. Would have allowed her to slip down over his cock until she swallowed him whole. He almost groaned imagining it, and his erection got even harder, if that were possible.

No. He didn’t keep condoms in his truck, and he never had sex without a condom. Never. He wouldn’t take that risk.