Beverly Preston writes the perfect romance hero: sexy-as-hell good guys, the kind you want to screw your brains out and put a ring on your finger.
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Seconds after hearing the click of the front door shutting, his mouth was at her ear. His fingers slipped beneath the straps on her shoulder, lifting the dress above her head and tossing it on the end of the bed.
Spikes of sensual energy gathered between them. Reed nuzzled the rasp of his stubble into the sensitive spot on her neck and her skin came to life beneath his firm yet gentle touch. Tremors chased down her spine and desire ached between her thighs. Never in her life had JC been so completely in tune with the bodily forces filling her physically and emotionally.
A slight giggle dissolved into a soft gasp as one arm crossed beneath her breast, pulling her closer. Gooseflesh covered her body as his lips traversed the slope of her neck and shoulder, revisiting receptive areas he’d pursued the night before.
“I don’t understand,” she murmured. Reed pressed the shape of him, rearing and stiff, against the small of her back. Her head listed back against his chest, followed a soft ambiguous cry of need. “How do you do that to me?”
He turned her to face him, cupping the tender curve of her breast. “Darlin’, in few minutes, you’re not gonna give a damn.”
Heat spread everywhere, engulfing her senses in flames of desire. Draping her wrists over his shoulder, she raised on her tippy-toes, searching for his lips. Reed resisted her fervent urges, pulling back, not allowing her the passionate kiss she yearned for. He stared into her eyes, capturing her spirit with his ice blue eyes. Zings of pleasure chased though her and JC feared she might melt before they even started.
Unspoken words drifted between them.
Reed’s unconditional acceptance disarmed her. He accepted her commitment phobias, occasional neurotic tendencies, her fears of love, her mishaps in life and bad judgments. He understood her implicitly and appreciated her exactly as she was.
Her heart pounded. Excitement and nervousness mingled through her emotions. Her eyes drifted shut as she leaned into his chest and his hands played over her slowly, tortuously igniting a new passion within. She quivered and stumbled, falling onto the chaise behind her.
He started toward her hungrily, but she shook her head.
“No?” he asked with a questioning grin.
“No.” She shook her head again. “This isn’t exactly how I pictured this. You make me too damn nervous.” She pointed toward the bathroom. “Can you please give me two minutes?”
He bent, securing her to the hide with his thigh between her legs, possessing her mouth with long, intimate licks of his tongue. “I’ll give you three,” he assured, releasing her from his kiss and sauntering into the bathroom.
JC leapt to her feet, pacing in circles in nothing more than her white cheeky panties. “What the hell is wrong with me?” Stopping midstride, she shook out her trembling limbs. “You can do this! Pull yourself together.”
She took a few deep breaths, trying to ward off the tension looming close the surface of her thoughts. Her limbs felt weighted and encumbering, restricting her body from its natural rhythmic flow of sensual language. He’s just a man. I’ve kissed dozens of men! You’ve already had sex with him. Don’t be chicken!
She bent over, tousling her hair through her fingers and flipped her head back, letting the long caramel layers cascade down her back in sexy loose pieces.
JC plopped onto the chaise, strumming her fingers on the hide. Yeah, but damn what a man!
Nestling back into the hide, she draped her hands above her head. Unable to find the right position, she fidgeted awkwardly. “This is not comfortable,” she grumbled. “Oh, my God. What is wrong with me?”
Irritated by her own anxiety and gracelessness, she flopped to the opposite end of the chaise. Her long legs and feet dangled over the arched back and her head hung over the foot of the lounge.
Sunbeams pushing through the glass door swept across her body. Her eyes drifted shut and she drew in a deep, full breath of air and then another. The scent of his skin lingered with the warmth of the sun, caressing her senses and calming her nerves.
She startled when Reed gently placed his hand on the outside of her thigh. His naked hip brushed against her skin when he sat beside her. Her eyes remained closed as the coolness from his hand slid along her waist to her breast, resting on top of her heart.
“I know…” she panted breathily. JC placed her hand over his. “Just feel you in here.”
“That’s right, darlin’”
“I don’t know why you make me so nervous.”
Feeling his avid stare burning through closed lids and the weight of his hand dip to her breast, she slipped her tongue across her lips sensually.
“You make me nervous too,”—his breath fractured—“JC.”
Her eyes opened when he called her by name.
“We’ll figure it out together.”
Feelings of passion and adoration flourished, stringing tightly around her heart. She nodded.
“Goddess,” he hummed, wiggling his brow. The back of his hand traced lazily over her jaw and earlobe. He leaned closer, nearly kissing her before halting. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out.”
#1 Bestselling Author, Beverly Preston has been a stay at home mom for 21 years, although she prefers the title Domestic Engineer. Along the way, Beverly worked side by side with her husband Don, the love of her life, designing, building and selling custom homes. As her children begin to venture out on their own, she’s left to shed a tear—for a minute—wonder what’s next in life, and embrace the feeling of empowerment that surely must’ve been wrapped in a present she received on her fortieth birthday.
If Beverly isn’t at home riding her spin bike, you’ll find her spinning richly emotional and sinfully sexy romance stories.