Sensual Romances Newsletter December 2006

Reading, Food & Inventive Fun

This year we're doubling our Decadent Delights with even more recipes for you to enjoy!

Recipe presented by Lacey Savage

I’m going to start this issue of Decadent Delights with a personal announcement that has nothing to do with food: after a month of being unemployed, I landed the job of my dreams. I start next Monday, and I couldn’t be happier. Why am I telling you this? Because last night, my husband took me out to celebrate. Since I got to pick the place, I chose my favorite restaurant in the entire world: Japanese Village, a tiny little hole-in-the-wall spot in Downtown Ottawa located in the basement of an office building.

Okay, so it doesn’t sound like much, but if you like Japanese food, there is no better place to eat. And for the record, no, I don’t use chopsticks. Not because I don’t like them, but simply because I can’t be bothered to learn to use them properly. I like forks, thankyouverymuch. For what it’s worth, the food tastes just as good eaten with a fork, though I do on occasion have to put up with being given the evil eye by the restaurant’s staff. I’m willing to deal with it.

Not familiar with Japanese food? Here are a few words you’re guaranteed to see on a Japanese restaurant’s menu:

> Sushi: Contrary to popular belief, this isn’t raw fish (that’s sashimi, below). These days, sushi is any dish containing rice, prepared with sushi vinegar. There’s a wide variety of sushi, so feel free to experiment. My favorite? Avocado rolls, California rolls, Spicy Tuna rolls and Shrimp Tempura rolls. I’m definitely a “roll” girl, though you may find you prefer the small rice balls with fish on top, or the hand-rolled seaweed cones. Sushi is dipped in soy sauce before it’s eaten, and oftentimes wasabi is dissolved into the soy sauce beforehand.

> Sashimi: Ah, raw fish. In fact, raw seafood of any imaginable kind. The seafood is always extremely fresh. It can either be eaten on its own, or as part of a “nigiri zushi” dish, in which case the sashimi is placed on top of a pad of sushi rice. Sashimi is also dipped in soy sauce before it’s eaten, and oftentimes wasabi is dissolved into the soy sauce beforehand.

> Wasabi: Japanese horseradish. Seriously. It most often comes in a green paste format. Typically, you’d take a tiny bit of it and dissolve it in soy sauce before enjoying it with sushi and / or sashimi. WARNING: It’s EXTREMELY hot. A little goes a long way.

> Tempura: Tempura batter is used to coat a variety of items in Japanese cuisine, from shrimp to whole broccoli florets. My favorite is sweet potato tempura, in which slices of sweet potato are dipped in tempura batter and fried to perfection. They’re served with a tempura sweet dipping sauce and make a delicious appetizer.

When the craving for Japanese food strikes and I don’t feel like leaving the house, here are a couple of recipes I whip up on a regular basis. I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I do:

Lacey’s Japanese Roasted Salmon

Ingredients:

1/4 cup butter (preferably unsalted)
1/2 tsp crushed red pepper
1/2 garlic clove (minced)
1/4 cup packed golden brown sugar
1/4 cup fresh lime juice
1/4 cup soy sauce
1 tsp cornstarch
4 salmon fillets

Directions:

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees.

2. Melt the butter in a heavy large saucepan over medium heat. Add the crushed red pepper and garlic and stir until fragrant, about 1 minute.

3. Add sugar, stir until mixture is melted and smooth and begins to bubble, about 4 minutes.

4. Stir in lime juice and soy sauce.

5. Turn up the heat to medium-high and boil for 2 minutes.

6. Add cornstarch mixture and boil until thick, about 3 minutes. Set the sauce aside.

7. Melt 1 tablespoon butter in heavy large skillet over high heat.

8. Cook the salmon until golden brown, about 2 minutes per side, then transfer it to a baking sheet and spoon 1 tablespoon of the sauce over each fillet.

9. Roast until fish is opaque in the center, about 5 minutes.

Lacey’s Japanese Sautéed Mushrooms

Ingredients:

2 tbs peanut oil
1 1/2 lbs white button mushrooms (cleaned and sliced into quarters)
1 tbs toasted sesame seeds
1 tbs minced fresh ginger
2 tbs rice wine vinegar
1 tsp sugar (to taste)
2 tbs soy sauce
1 tsp toasted sesame oil
2 scallions, sliced very thin

Directions:

1. Heat 1 tbs of the peanut oil in a 12" skillet over medium high heat.

2. Add the mushrooms and cook, stirring occasionally, until the mushrooms release their liquid, about 5 minutes.

3. Increase the heat to high and cook, stirring occasionally, until the liquid has evaporated, about 8 minutes longer.

4. Add the remaining peanut oil, reduce the heat to medium and continue to cook, stirring once every minute, until the mushrooms are dark brown, about 8 more minutes.

5. Add the sesame seeds and ginger and cook, stirring constantly, until the ginger is fragrant, about 30 seconds.

6. Add the rice vinegar, sugar and soy sauce and cook, stirring constantly, until the liquid has evaporated, about 30 seconds.

7. Remove from the heat and stir in the sesame oil. Move to a serving dish, sprinkle with the scallions, and serve.

Lacey Savage
http://www.laceysavage.com

5. Enticing Excerpts

Samantha Winston
http://www.samanthawinston.com

Excerpt from HOTLINE - coming July 2nd from Total-E-Bound Books

“Thank you Shell.” Angel’s voice over the phone jarred her out of her dream. She shook her head. It had been so real she almost expected to see him sitting next to her.

“What do you look like?” She had to know. Even if it was against all her rules to ask that question. She wanted to know, so when she next fantasized it would be even more real.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” He gave a soft laugh. “Sandy hair. That’s what I’ve read it described as anyway.”

“Read?” That caught her attention. “You read about yourself?”

A pause. Then, “Yeah. I read about myself. I used to be a celebrity, before my accident.” There was no clue to his emotions now in his voice. It was flat as a blank sheet of paper.

“Just tell me what you look like. I don’t want to know too much about you,” said Shelly.

“Really? Why not?”

“Because you’re a client.”

“And what if I didn’t want to be your client anymore?” Angel asked.

Shelly frowned at her phone. “What do you mean? You’re not going to call me anymore?”

“I mean, I want to meet you in person. I want to be your friend. You’re the first person I’ve been interested in since my accident.”

Uh oh. This was going too far. An accident? He might be a maniac, for all she knew. “Angel, I think…I mean…you have to understand. You could be anyone. I have to be careful who…”

“My name’s Angel Pasqually. I’m thirty two years old, I have sandy hair and I used to drive race cars. I live in the San Fernando Valley, near a creek. I…I’m just trying to put my life back together. I’m hoping you can help me.” His voice died away.

Shelly froze. She’d been about to hang up, but her whole body suddenly went hot then cold. “Angel Pasqually? The NASCAR racer? But…but.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. In her mind she saw the pictures. A slim, wide-shouldered man with sandy hair that fell over one eye and a grin that seemed to stretch from ear to ear. The biggest smile she’d ever seen. Holding his first NASCAR Winston cup. Then winning everything. The Daytona 500, breaking records on the tracks.

“Shall I tell you a story? Throughout my whole life I never thought of doing anything else but racing. I grew up around Winston Cup cars. I grew up around Winston Cup drivers. Winston Cup was all I knew. When I was a kid, I thought everybody's daddy had a race car."

His breathing was light and even in her ear. Shelly gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles cracked. “Go on.” She could barely get the whisper past her tight throat.

Angel went on. “My family was in racing. My dad was a mechanic and raced as an amateur. My mom does public relations for the racing press. When I started racing, they were thrilled. I’d always been around the tracks, so I knew almost everyone, and they were supportive of me. I had some lucky breaks as a kid. Sponsors willing to take me on. Pros willing to stick their necks out for me. And so I made it big. And my head got just as big as my fame. I became a class ‘A’ jerk. I snubbed the guys who’d held the ladder up for me, I married a socialite for her looks, and I kept on winning…until that fateful day at the Chevrolet Monte Carlo 400, Richmond, VA. With only ten races remaining in the season, I held a two hundred point lead over defending champion Dave Barnett.

“When the circuit headed to Richmond, VA, I seemed to have destiny on my side. But a terrible wreck left me blind. And then it was payback time. The people I’d snubbed made sure I regretted it, and my socialite wife took off with my surgeon. She got the house under our prenuptial agreement. She got most of my bank account. The doctors got the rest. I had no job. No where to go. So my mother invited me to stay with her. Now that my father passed away, she said the house was too big. So that’s where I am now.”

Shelly thought about what he’d said. The papers and magazines had printed his story for months as he fought for his life in the hospital, but when he finally emerged, alive but blind, he’d disappeared from the magazines as if swallowed up by an ocean of indifference. No longer a champion, no longer newsworthy. He’d gone home, lived with his widowed mother, and called her on the phone. “Why tell me this now?”

He gave a rueful laugh. “I have this feeling that you’ll hang up on me if I tell you, and I’ll deserve it.”

“Tell me anyway. You can always call me back if I hang up on you.”

She heard him take a deep breath. “It’s because of the charity ball. For some reason, this year they’ve decided to dig me out of my grave, dust me off, and parade me in front of all NASCAR for the annual charity ball. The relief fund this year is going toward children with blindness, so of course they thought of me.” There was unmistakable panic in his voice. Shelley felt her heart contract.

“You can say no,” she said.

“This time I won’t say no. I’ve been a jerk for too long. An old friend called and asked me to do this out of kindness. So this is my chance to prove I’m not the stuck-up fool I was before the accident. The old Angel Pasqually wouldn’t be caught dead at a charity ball. I’d like to start doing things for others now. But I don’t know where to start. Maybe this is the chance I need to make things right. I owe a lot of favours, Shelly. More than I can ever pay back.”

“I still don’t see what this has to do with me,” Shelly said.

“That’s simple. I want you to come to the charity ball with me.”

Judy Mays
http://www.judymays.com

Excerpt from FIRES OF SOLSTICE, a werewolf romance - coming from Ellora's Cave June 29

She heard the door open. Too soon for James. Some coworker then.

“Not now. I need to be alone.”

“But I want you now.”

That voice! Damn all men to hell! Spinning around, Meredythe stared at the stranger from her boss’s office. His silvery gray eyes bored into hers. Six feet tall, wickedly lean with muscles clearly defined by his tight, black tee shirt and jeans, he exuded sensuality.

A shiver danced its way up Meredythe’s spine and shattered the composure she’d regained as she let her gaze slide down his body. Damn, but he was a hunk. If only he would turn around so she could get a look at his ass. A picture of him standing naked before her flashed in her mind. Her vaginal muscles tightened; her nipples tingled. She looked back up into his face.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Amusement appeared in his eyes. “Like what you see?”

Jerking her gaze from his, Meredythe’s anger burned higher. How could she find such an arrogant man attractive? She hated arrogant men.

He held out his hand. “Come to me.”

Meredythe’s eyes widened, and heat surged to her face. What was she, a dog? “Just who the hell do you think you are?”

He didn’t answer. Instead he kicked the door closed and stalked towards her, his muscles sliding smoothly beneath his clothing.

He moves so effortlessly, like – an animal. “What do you want?” she challenged again when he stopped before her.

His eyes bore into hers. “You.”

“Me!” She sputtered. This was the last straw. “And just what makes you think?”

Before she could finish, he cupped her face gently but firmly between his hands, nuzzled her mouth with his, then slid his lips over hers.

Shocked, Meredythe froze.As his scent surrounded her, soft, tender kisses and delicate flicks of his tongue teased her senses. His supple thumbs caressed her cheeks while his strong fingers massaged the sides of her neck. Slanting his head, he pressed his mouth more firmly against hers and tantalized her lips with the tip of his tongue.
Slowly, her body relaxed, and she swayed towards him. He growled low in his throat and sucked on her lower lip.
Something inside of Meredythe burst free from its cocoon and exploded into bloom. Sighing, she opened her mouth, all thoughts of escape melting away.

With that small victory, he seized control. Kisses that had been gentle now seared her lips, drawing forth a hungry, burning response from the depths of her soul. His tongue invaded her mouth, thrusting and swirling against hers in a dance that became more and more sensuous. His mouth conquered, dominated, demanded. A low moan escaped from her throat as she melted against him, palms flat against his chest, and began to drown in the raw, blatant passion of his kiss. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he laced the fingers of his other hand through her hair, and pulled her head even closer. Teeth clashed against teeth and tongues stabbed and swiped.Her teeth slid across his lip.

For a second, the metallic taste of blood rolled across Meredythe’s tongue, then a bonfire ignited in her soul. Trapped in a kiss that seemed to drag her soul from her body, Meredythe plummeted into a maelstrom of desire.
The tight knot in her stomach exploded with fiery heat that surged through her veins. As her nerves sizzled, her nipples puckered into tight, aching buds. Hot moisture pooled between her legs, and she spread her legs apart and tried to straddle his thigh.

Moaning deep in her throat, she grasped his soft cotton shirt and tugged at it, trying to rip it away from his body so she could slide her hands across the hot, taut muscles of his chest.

His groan answered her as he slid his hands down her back, cupped her butt, and pulled her hips against the hard ridge of his erect cock. Then, as he kneaded and massaged her ass with his left hand, he yanked her blouse free from her skirt, slid his right underneath it, and cupped her breast.

Ignoring the warning bells clamoring in her head, Meredythe slid her hands up his chest, wrapped her arms around his neck, pushed her breast further into his hand, and sucked his tongue into her mouth.

His harsh whiskers scratching her cheek and chin, he ravaged her mouth with his as he dropped his arm from around her waist.

A low growl rolling in his throat, he squeezed her breast then slid his finger tips down over her rib cage and along her thighs to jerk her skirt up to her waist. A hard yank ripped her panty hose off her stomach. As the flap of nylon sagged, he slipped his hand beneath her silk panties and cupped her moist pussy. Heat branded her ass as he cupped her butt with his other hand to hold her still.

Whimpering, she ground herself against his stroking fingers. Slowly he caressed her clit, swirled his fingers around it, then rubbed again harder.

Gasping, Meredythe pulled her mouth from his, spread her legs further apart, and threw back her head.
“Yes,” she hissed. Lord but his fingers were magic.

“That’s it. Open yourself to me." He pinched her clit. His voice was a low growl. “You are mine.” Then, as he started to slide a single finger inside of her, he leaned forward, slid his tongue and teeth along her jaw to her neck, and nipped her – hard.

Immersed in the sensuality he’d wrapped around her, Meredythe simply moaned affirmatively and ground cunt against his hand. So close... She was so close to coming.

Then, a single, sharp pain shattered the sensual haze surrounding her.

Wrenching her eyes open, she froze in his arms. What was she doing! A complete stranger had her clothing half off and his fingers in her cunt. What was wrong with her? No man other had ever been able to silence her own sense of self before. This one, though, this stranger – she was putty in his hands, passionate putty. Deep in her soul, she knew he could make her do anything he wanted. It frightened her more than anything else ever had.

Fear of her passionate reaction to the stranger galvanized Meredythe and provided her with the strength to jerk out of his arms and fall against the table behind her. Gripping the edge to keep from falling, she sucked in great gasps of air. Trembling – eyes wide – she stared at him. He was a complete stranger, and she was ready to let him fuck her! What was wrong with her?

Silver eyes glistening with flecks of gold, he smiled ferally, lifted the fingers that had been playing in her pussy to his mouth, and sucked on them. Then, nostrils flaring slightly, he slid his fingers from his mouth and held out his hand.
As Meredythe stared at his hand, a moaning sob stuck in her throat. All she had to do was take his hand and give herself over to him to experience passion such as she’d never dreamed existed – passion that would draw her soul from her body and return it altered beyond recognition.

She wrenched her gaze from his hand to his body.

His legs were braced apart, and he made no attempt to hide the huge bulge rising in the front of his jeans.
Her gaze flew to his face.

“Come with me! Now!” he commanded in a low voice, his flinty eyes blazing with a passion she’d never dreamed existed, a passion that now terrified her.

Her body swayed forward. Her mind rebelled.

Gritting her teeth, she swallowed her sob and yanked her skirt down over her thighs. No! She would not give up her self. There wasn’t a man alive who could be trusted that much.

His terse, arrogant command fanned the flames of her passion – and anger. Gathering her strength, without thought for the consequences, she stiffened her spine and slapped his face - hard. As the sharp crack reverberated around the room, his head snapped to the left and his cheek flushed bright crimson under his dark whiskers. While he stood frozen with shock, she scrambled around to the other side of the table.Eyes now glowing golden, he braced his hands on the table.

“Touch me and I’ll scream this building down.”

“No you won’t,” he growled. Leaning towards her, he said, “You want me as much as I want you. I can smell the desire for sex on you. I tasted your cum. You’re slick and wet, ready for me. You want my cock buried in your cunt so far you can’t tell where I end and you begin.”

Bracing her own hands on her side of the desk, she leaned towards him and spat, “How dare you talk to me like that! I don’t know who the hell you are, asshole, but I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last man on Earth!”

Ruby Storm
http://www.rubystorm.net

Excerpt from HIS TOYS releasing at Ellora's Cave on July 18, 2007

BLURB
Sanford Willard is a crafter of toys. Not your standard run-of-the-mill playthings created for the general public, mind you, but items designed for the woman who basks in her sexuality on all levels. He has one more step to complete before taking the adult market by storm and that’s to assure his prototypes are the perfect compliment to a woman’s body.

One weekend. One thousand dollars on the table for payment to co-worker Melodee Dayton. Forty-eight hours of extreme pleasure in exchange for her honest opinion.

Two consenting adults. A fantasy come true. Get ready to roll the dice of fate.

EXCERPT

She stared into his appraising eyes, struggling for air. Her fingers scratched at the linen tablecloth until she bunched it in her hands. Her breasts heaved as she fought to breathe and not attract attention. A fine sheen of perspiration glistened on her brow. She couldn’t do it anymore. She couldn’t forestall her body’s need.

When the orgasm hit her, her teeth clamped down on her bottom lip. Her eyes slammed shut as she fought to sit still. Over and over the hot contractions ripped through her womb, igniting a hot path to her breasts. She continued to come hard, her clit throbbing against the wild vibrations, the blood pounding in her ears. Her knees spread wider and it was all she could do not to reach down and cup her wet and dripping pussy. God, the desire for something thick and hard inside her burgeoned higher. She clung mindlessly to the fact that she had to remain mute no matter how loudly she wanted to moan. She couldn’t give herself away to the many patrons around them. Her body reeled with sensual pleasure, heightened by the fact that Sandy controlled each of the pulses.

Finally…finally it was over.

She couldn’t open her eyes. Her brain spun and her body thrummed from the release. She could only suck in deep breathes to clear her head and slow her heart rate.

Sandy had watched Mel in the throes of her orgasm, his cock hard and leaking. The sight of her parted lips as she’d panted hard, the glazed look in her eyes as her nails clawed the table, the sweet tension of her body. It had set him on fire.

The gut level reaction he’d experienced made his heart rap crazily beneath his breastbone and at the moment he wanted to toss her onto the table, yank her legs wide and bury himself inside her hot cunt. But he needed her reaction. He needed to stay focused on the reason they were here and not the fact that he’d never been so turned on in his life. That little detail stunned him. Here he’d thought he would be an interested and observing bystander this weekend, jotting down notes and reactions like a senseless robot. Fat chance.

“Mel?”

Her heart still thudded when she finally glanced up.

“Want to take the panties off now?”

A slow smile turned up the corners of her mouth. “Not on your life.”

He chuckled. “At the risk of ruining the ‘moment’ for you, I need your reaction.”

She snorted, wondering if her clit would ever feel normal again. “My reaction?” She took a deep breath, picked up her wine and downed it completely. “I’m not going to be electrocuted, am I?”

“I’m not following you.”

“You, the toymaker who has come up with the perfect pair of underwear and you’re not following me? I don’t know if it’s the wine or if I just don’t give a damn what I say because I feel so damn warm and tingly. Sandy, I’m wet—like dripping wet. I just sat here at the table and experienced one of the best orgasms I’ve ever had. And if I continue to stay wet, I just might be electrocuted.”

Treva Harte
http://www.trevaharte.com

An Excerpt From: NO TIME TO DREAM at: www.liquidsilverbooks.com

Jen sat out on the porch with Poppy curled up companionably next to her. Who needed sleep when the dark night sky had bright stars and the evening breeze started to cool down the heat? It didn't matter if she was alone in the quiet. She didn't need anyone with her.

Despite what she didn't need, she smiled when the Lexus pulled into the driveway next door. Jack was home. He hesitated when he saw the porch light on next door. Obviously he wasn't in the mood for neighborly company.

Jen would have let him go on in and said nothing, but Poppy jumped up and ran over, barking furiously and wagging cheerfully, in her usual confused fashion. Jen stood up to wave and shush the prancing dog.

She felt a little embarrassed, as if she'd been spying on him. Of course that was ridiculous. Shoot, if she waited up to see him every time he came home late, she might never get any sleep.

He walked toward her. She saw the remnants of a tomcat grin on his face, saw in the way he walked that he hadn't been out late working. Or at least not working on anything to do with the firm.

"Nice night," Jen observed. "Too nice to sleep."

"Nothing wrong, is there, Jen?" Jack asked.

What a nice guy. He was looking at her with genuine concern. He did care. Even if he was a ladies' man and she wasn't one of his ladies.

"No. Thanks for asking, Jack." She ran her hand briefly down his cheek. "Did you get lucky tonight?"

He shifted his hands to the back pockets of his jeans and didn't answer. Jen couldn't quite interpret the look on his face but she knew enough about his expression to hastily pull her hand back. The lazy amusement usually in his eyes wasn't there.

"Sorry. That was a little personal. I hope you did. I'm sure she did," Jen hastily changed the subject. "I guess I could use an early night myself. I need to get up earlier tomorrow if I'm going to beat you into the office."

"Try it." Jack was unconcerned as he issued the old challenge. "It hasn't happened yet. But you're welcome to make me coffee if you do get in first."

They shared a smile. The older partners had their secretaries and paralegals wait on them hand and foot. Fetching coffee was just one of the ways the secretaries had to defer to them. Jack had never even hinted she was anything but a professional, with her own work to do. It was one of the things she liked so much about him.

"If I do, be careful about what you find in the cup," she said. "Tomorrow, Jack."

Her long brown hair was braided, the way it usually was. He wished it was loose.

Her thin T-shirt clung to her back. He wished she was walking toward him instead of away.

While he was at it, he wished her shirt was off. He could imagine her, her hair partially covering her skin, concealing and then revealing her breasts. Her eyes, staring at him shyly, desire in them. She wouldn't be sure what to do about what she wanted. He could show her.

He felt the desire hit him again and braced against it. After all, it was nothing new. He could live with it. Just.
"G'night, Jen."

She went inside, shutting the door firmly, with the dog trailing obediently behind her.

Damn it, she'd done it again. Even after he'd spent hours in bed with someone else, she just had to look at him and he was twisted up with desire and despair and now this sick feeling of guilt. He didn't owe her fidelity. He didn't owe her anything but friendship. He gave her that unstintingly. Always.

Jack sank onto the porch chair where she had sat. He could smell her scent on the chair's pillow. Then he put his head in his hands...

Mary Winter
http://www.marywinter.com

Excerpt from ILLEGAL HOLDINGS - Futuristic/Sci Fi/BDSM- available at: Changeling Press

The doors opened with a soft whoosh. The sweet scent of jasmine enticed him from the elevator. Muted flute music with an undercurrent of primal drums filled the hallway. He stopped. The difference between a smoky, stinky lower hall of a warehouse and this ambassador palace wing made him blink. Suddenly, in his uniform, his boots scuffed from running after Zach, and a box of sex toys in his hands, he felt positively tawdry. Marik grinned. Maybe Elaura liked such things, no matter what her cool, aloof exterior suggested.

“Oof,” a soft, feminine exclamation interrupted his thoughts. He stumbled, automatically reaching for the body that had collided with his to keep her upright. The box tumbled from his arms.

It spun end over end to land with a clatter on the floor. The flaps opened, spilling the contents into the hallway. His fingers slipped on her silk sleeves. She tumbled at his feet. Marik stumbled into the wall, righting himself. Automatically, he reached for the woman’s hand. A stylus and handheld computer lay on the ground next to her.

“Oh, my planner,” she said, picking it up. She slipped the stylus into the holder. She checked a few things, before looking at him. “I didn’t see you there. I’m sorry.”

Her whisky colored eyes captivated him. Impossibly long lashes framed her eyes, too large in her pale face. A slightly upturned nose and full, ruby red lips he longed to taste brought his cock to full attention.

Elaura. He’d recognize her husky voice anywhere. Her amber gaze snared him. Jostling the box, he inadvertently spilled more of the contents.

Her eyes went wide. “Is that -- are those what I think they are?” She scurried backward. “Agent Sinstark what are you doing here with those things?” She glanced down the hall as she stood, looking relieved when she saw it was empty.

“Is there somewhere we can talk?” His fingers lingered a little longer than necessary on a pair of vibrating nipple clamps. The image of Elaura trussed up, wearing nothing but the clamps, filled his mind. He stifled a groan as his cock hardened with a painful intensity. Flipping the lid closed, he picked up the box. “I was coming to see you.”

“With those things?” She kept her voice down, the shocked maiden act not playing well for someone who worked for one of the most sexually permissive groups in the Concordance. He’d heard rumors she’d grown up on the backside of Turas-9. He had no doubts she’d seen just about everything there was to see.

“Yes. I’m on duty, so this isn’t about you.” The hell it wasn’t. He kept his thoughts to himself. “I need to talk to you about your brother.”

Elaura gasped. She paled, her hand reaching for the wall.

Marik crossed the space between them. Balancing the box, he cupped her arm with his right hand. “I’m sorry. I wouldn’t be here unless it was important.” She looked frightened, as if he’d come bearing news so horrible it’d shatter her life.

“My office is this way,” she whispered.

Marik released her as she turned away to lead him down the hall. He followed behind, noticing the way her straight skirt hinted at the curves of her ass. The outfit made her legs seem to go on forever. Damn him for coming here like this, with these items. He wanted to fuck her, to use everything in the box twice and make her scream his name as she came. He shoved aside his carnal thoughts in time to see her turn into an office. Following her, he closed the door behind them.

“What is it?” She whirled to face him, her arms crossed beneath her generous breasts. The pale mounds of flesh pushed against the neckline of her peach blouse, threatening to spill over into his waiting hands. He set the box down on a table, then stepped away from the damning things.

“Your brother’s involved in a smuggling operation. I’m sorry. I don’t want to sugar coat it for you. I assure you, my department will do everything it can to keep the information under wraps.”

Elaura gasped. Eyes closed, she sucked in a deep breath of air. When she opened them again, sorrow swam in the amber depths of her gaze. She shook her head. “I should have guessed.” She sank into her chair.

Marik strode forward. He circled her desk and leaned one hip against it. He stood close to her, too close for protocol, but rules be damned. He’d just dumped a heap of shit in her lap. He wanted her to know he’d take whatever steps were necessary to protect her position and reputation. He cupped her chin and tilted her gaze to meet his.

“Hey, it’ll be all right.” What possessed him to try and reassure her, he didn’t know. “Your name isn’t associated with anything. There’s only a few officers who know of the connection. I wanted to come down here and personally reassure you.” He brushed his thumb across her full, lower lip.

Sparks danced across his skin. Her warm exhalation was like a punch to the gut, hitting him right where it hurt.

“You mean that don’t you?”

Marik released her as if she’d stung him. “You don’t believe me. Oh, hell, I’d never do anything to hurt you. You have to know that.” He caressed her cheek, sliding his fingers into her hair. The silken strands caressed his skin, making him think of how heavenly they’d feel sliding over his cock. He leaned forward. The urge to kiss her fear away took him by surprise. Slanting his lips over hers, he breathed against her flesh, a soft, gentle kiss that had her eyelids fluttering closed. She sighed as she swayed toward him. Her fingers curled into the lapels of his uniform shirt, as if she could pull him to her, or hold herself upright. She moaned against his lips.

He had to taste her. Sliding his leg between hers, he licked her lower lip. Her tiny moan of surrender had him dipping his tongue into her mouth. He tasted mint, with a hint of the fruit sodas she liked to drink. A moan rumbled through his chest as he cupped the back of her head to deepen the kiss.

Her hand trailed over his chest. Along the buttons of his shirt, down to the belt, then lower, until her fingertips brushed his erection. He reached down and snagged her wrist. “Don’t,” he said, his voice as ragged as his control. If she circled him with those slender digits with their manicured nails, he’d blow like a teenager. Elaura had him so hot, so horny, he thought nothing of seducing her when he came here to tell her about her brother’s involvement in the smuggling ring. Hell.

Katherine Kingston
http://www.katherinekingston.com

An excerpt from CHECKMATE in the PLEASURE RAIDERS anthology
Available in electronic format and trade paperback from Ellora’s Cave

Devonne turned to face her first mate. Reed stared at a screen in front of him. “What have you got?” she asked.

He frowned and tugged on his earlobe. “If I didn’t… I swear it looks like someone had the same idea as us and got to the Denogrenian ship first.”

“What?” She spoke so loudly it startled the two other crewmembers in the room into looking up from their panels.

Reed pointed to the screen that showed two blinking blips. Devonne studied the data readouts. “Magnify.”

Reed pulled the direct link from his face and disconnected it from the panel. Devonne repeated her order to magnify the display.

Sure enough, another smaller blip clearly approached the large blip that represented their target. A wavery yellow line shot out between them.

“Damnation!” Devonne clenched her fists and clamped her lips shut. She wanted to scream her frustration as she watched the evidence of a tractor beam hauling her prize toward a rival. When she reclaimed some measure of control, she said, “Identify secondary target.” She already knew but needed to hear it confirmed anyway.

“Identifying,” the computer’s soothing male voice responded. “Target identified as KCS Fool’s Quest, registered out of Kalima, Prox G-04, number 668940435453545435. No official standing listed.”

“What the hell is he doing here? Damn. Shit! No official standing, indeed.”

“Captain?” SueBelle, the newest member of the crew, looked up at her, eyebrows raised.

“Reginald Jameson Jernigan. Commonly known as Raje. Or Prince Reginald. The son of a bitch.”

“You know him?”

“For my sins.”

“How?” Navigation Officer SueBelle asked.

Reed spoke at the same time. “What’s he doing?”

“Beating us to the prize.” Devonne’s fists clenched again. “But why? I thought he was out of the game. Unless he had another fight with his uncle. But even then…”

She needed this cargo. Her exiled clan, now more than five hundred strong, was hidden in an obscure corner of an even more obscure planet and rapidly outgrowing their hiding place. They needed a bargaining chip to finally gain a place where they could settle permanently. Interstellar piracy had a limited lifespan and she neared the end of it. This was her grand finale, her swan song, the move that would end her life of crime and let her retire in peace. She wasn’t about to give it up to an arrogant jerk who viewed life as a game and stolen cargoes as his ticket to personal wealth and power.

“I’m not going to let this go. CC, can you calculate the combined mass of both those ships?”

“Can do, Captain,” the ship said.

Reed threw her an incredulous look. “You can’t be thinking of trying to snag both of them?”

“Why can’t I?”

“You’re going to play chicken with him?”

“Why not?”

The computer came back and gave an answer. The number wasn’t as low as she’d hoped, but it might still be possible.

“That’s why,” Reed said. “I know all the reasons you don’t want to lose this one, but still… Why not wait until he releases…never mind. He can still run faster, can’t he?”

“CC, how much acceleration can we generate if we divert every bit of power to the engines?”

“Including life support systems, Captain?”

“Everything but critical systems.”

The rest of her crew, SueBelle, Reed and Nathan, looked at her as though they feared she’d lost a critical neural system or two herself.

The computer’s answer came a few seconds later and gave her pause. It might be enough. If… “How long can we maintain that level and still have enough fuel to get back to Esketan Station?”

“With present fuel levels, a maximum of thirty-six hours.”

“Captain, you can’t mean to try to hold them both!” Reed challenged.

She gave him her sharpest, sternest look. “I don’t mean to try. I’m going to do it. Reed, take us in just the way we’d planned. Nathan, prepare to activate tractor beam as soon as we decloak. SueBelle, fine-tune position coordinates to give us maximum grapple on both ships.”

They trusted her enough to follow her commands. She’d taken a few strange gambles before and they’d paid off. She hoped she could do it again one last time.