We are getting a mouthwatering new standalone from Elizabeth Hayley—part of the Misadventures collection of spicy stories, each written or co-written by some of the best names in romance—and I have the cover for you, as well as a sneak peek.
I’d been thinking about this ever since I saw CJ sit down at the bar—the slow but needy grind of our lips against one another. And as our tongues tangled, I was thankful I’d gotten some more confidence over the years. I didn’t even stifle the moan that found its way from my throat to his mouth, and when the vibration of it thrummed between us, he reached a hand around to the back of my neck to deepen our kiss.
My entire body tingled with sensation, like he’d somehow hit every nerve ending with that subtle touch. It had been…well, let’s just say it had been a while since a man—especially one as desirable as thisman—had kissed me like this. Every sweep of his tongue across mine and every soft nip of his teeth on my lip had me forgetting, or simply not caring, that we were behaving like this in public. And if I were being honest with myself, the idea turned me on even more.
But there were things I wanted him to do to me—and things I wanted to do to him—that were definitely not appropriate for public display. The thoughts had me pulling away breathless. “Would you like to come up to my room? Sorry, is that too forward? Or…” God, I sound like a hussy. “I swear I don’t make out with men at bars like this all the time. Or ever,” I corrected. “But I’ve had a crush on you since high school, and—”
“So you said.” He smiled wide, as if hearing the comment a second time excited him as much as the kiss. And based on the frustrated groan he released when I pulled away, I’d have guessed he was pretty excited. “Just for the record, I’m not complaining,” he added before closing the small distance between our lips again so he could part them with his tongue. He tasted sweet, like rum and mint and something spicy I couldn’t identify. “We don’t have to go upstairs if you’re uncomfortable with it,” he whispered against my lips.
“I want to,” was the only reply I could find. My attraction to him was even stronger tonight than the girlish crush I’d had on him years ago. Maybe it was something about seeing him all grown up. The long stubble on his jawline that looked like it might grow into a full beard before the night was over. It had me wondering what it might feel like between my legs. God, help me. Or it might have been his casual confidence and how easily we’d talked. Whatever it was about this man, I wanted him.
“Just know you have my word that I’m not going to tell the guys in the locker room after practice about whatever happens between us. This isn’t high school, Zara. We’re two consenting adults. Two consenting, very turned-on adults. Speaking for myself at least.” He cleared his throat and shifted in the bar stool, drawing my attention to the bulge in his perfectly fitted dark jeans.
“That applies to me too,” I said, feeling the blush spread across my cheeks. What had gotten into me? “So before I go back to the old Zara and let my inhibitions dictate my actions, I’d like to formally invite you back to my hotel room, Mr. Jensen.”
His smile broadened into a ridiculous grin. “In that case, I’d like to accept, Ms. Pierce.”
And with that, I grabbed my bag, downed the last of my Cabernet, and headed toward the elevators.
Once inside, our hands were everywhere. Mine slipping down his back to squeeze his muscular ass. His sliding up the outside of my thigh. And as his cock rubbed against my lower stomach, I wondered if I’d even make it to my room before I had him undressed. His chest was firm against mine. I wanted to feel every part of him at once—his lips on my nipples and between my thighs, his cock spreading me wide.
“God, you’re sexy,” he said against my collarbone. “Makes me so hard.”
I wanted to tell him that he was sexy too. That I was so fucking wet already, he could use my thong as a Slip and Slide if he wanted to. But all that came out of my mouth was something completely unintelligible that manifested itself as an unsteady moan.
We broke contact just long enough to exit the elevator and make our way down the short hallway. I fumbled with the key card, playfully swatting his hand away from its place on my hip as he stood behind me, his rock-hard cock pressing against my ass. “If you keep that up, I’ll never get this thing open.”
He laughed softly, reaching around to place his hand on mine to steady it enough to key us in. Once we were both inside, he spun me against the door, pinning my hands over my head with one of his. I loved when guys took control like this, letting me feel instead of think. And all I wanted to do was feel. Feel his fingers and tongue inside me, feel how thick and hard his cock was in my hand before I felt it fill me.
“What do you want?” he asked. He waited for the answer like it would not only turn him on but also so he could ensure he wasn’t doing more than I was comfortable with.
“Your mouth,” I whispered.
He released my hands. “Like this?” he asked, my hands gripping his hair in pleasure as he made his way to the exposed part of my chest right above my dress.
He reached around to undo the clasp at the top and dragged the zipper down slowly. But he didn’t let it drop. Pulling the fabric over my shoulder enough to gain access to my breasts, he brought his mouth to them, giving each of them his undivided attention. “How about now?” he asked, working his tongue over my nipple softly before giving it a tug with his teeth.
“Getting warmer,” I said.
“I was hoping for hot,” he teased.
“Oh, this is definitely hot.”