I don't often get too explicit on my blog. It's more of a family place...and I have many followers who like the subtlety of romance behind closed doors. But let's face it. I write mainstream romance. There is love in my books. I like to read a good romance with all the extras. I like the pull of the emotions that we experience with the person we love. I like bringing those emotions to their most basic level--the heart, the physical, the need--when we're happy, content, angry, or just plain apathetic. The connection we have with another person takes us beyond those emotions to something more. It breaks down the anger, revives the apathetic, turns the content down new roads, and takes happy to tears [if you're a big, fat cry baby, I mean. ;)].
...I mean it. Stop reading!
JUSTROMANCE.ME is offering another fun bloghop, with great prizes, including a Kindle Fire of some kind. ;) And books, lots of books and swag, by the authors who are hosting it.
Enjoy the excerpt. It's from Unwanted Vows, the first book in my Lawrence Family series, coming out later this year. [I just finished revisions on it. It's just going to be awesome...very excited to share this story and all the Lawrence stories with you!]
...and this is where you stop reading if you don't like a more explicit scene...
...I mean it. Stop reading!
Samantha came over and kissed his shoulder. His eyes slid closed as her scent surrounded him. Fingers, of their own accord, traced lines over her bare skin, and he pulled her close. “We have a few minutes, right?”
She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck, and the towel slid off.
He moaned as her naked body pressed to his, and he let his hands grip the sweet cheeks of her rear. “Sam,” he whispered as his lips found the pulse in her neck.
Her head fell back, exposing her to him, and he trailed kisses along every square inch of that soft skin. His heart filled. He had her, for good now.
He wanted to take her home, wanted her in that less-than-luxury lodge, and could imagine her in his home, her home. Right where she’d wanted to be in the first place. Only now it would be better.
“Morgan.” With frantic movements, she reached for his waist, undid his belt and fly, and released him. Her hands were on him in an instant, and he dragged her up into his arms and carried her to their bedroom. She sucked his bottom lip into her warm, wet mouth, and God, he couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to celebrate life, celebrate their win today.
This was his unspoken promise, his undying desire—for her, for everything.
He stripped bare, the shirt coming off, the pants dropping to floor, and he nudged her up against the pillows. “Sam,” he spoke, placing his hands against her knees and opening her. “Oh.”
He had not a single thought after that, just raging need transformed into action. The sight of her hot center undid him. He took it, giving himself to her from straining, swollen tip to aching flesh at his base.
She was ready for him, too. Slick with desire, the sound of her climax coming so soon with soft whimpers and the slap of their skin.
“Sam,” he groaned her name as he thrust into her again and again.
“Oh crap,” she said.
And then he heard it. The sound of Olivia’s waking cry.
“Don’t you dare,” Sam demanded, when he paused. She reached for him and grabbed his hips. “You finish this…or I will.”
He laid his hand flat against her belly. The racing need to finish had eased, so he pressed his length into her, lifted her hips to change the angle, and drove further. Then, using the heel of his hand, he rubbed that small bit of flesh between them.
And she flew like he knew she would, high as a kite, sweet as rain…
He leaned over to softly kiss her lips. “I love you, babe.”
Then he left her, tucked himself back into his clothes, and went for Olivia.