My Hero
Chapter Seven
By Bella Maeve
He held her tight and ran one hand down her back to cup her irresistible little ass. Her breath caught in her throat as he continued to kiss her.
“Poor little girl got her bottom spanked,” he teased breathily. “Here, let me rub it until it feels better.” He delighted in watching Nancy’s face as she struggled between discomfort and ecstasy.
“That’s not the part of me that needs attention right now,” Nancy gasped as he began kissing her neck. “I was going to relax in a hot bath. Care to join me?”
“I don’t know,” he grinned. “We may not get much relaxing done.”
“God, I hope not.”
How Does Your Garden Grow?
Chapter Five
By April Hill
“A peace offering,” he said, handing her a large paper sack.
Beth looked into the sack, then up at him.
“Oranges?”
“The fruit market on the corner. They didn’t have roses. It was either this or avocados. I figured oranges smelled better.”
She wrinkled her nose. “I hate oranges.”
Rocking the Boat
By Michelle Carlyle
“Excuse me, Burke, I have to use the restroom.”
He tuned in, studying her. “You look pale. Do you know that man?”
Of course, Burke would notice, but she had no time to explain. “Who? What man?”
“The one who’s staring at you so intently?”
“No, no. I’ll be right back.”
Without waiting for his response, she leapt up and headed away from Mr. Bond. She didn’t care if she lied to Burke; all she could think about was hiding.
The Gardener
By Oona West
She gave him a rueful smile. “It’s the rest of my life that’s missing.” And when he just waited, looking at her expectantly, she explained, “You know, love and babies and all that. My biological clock is ticking and I’m so depressingly single.”
“Ah!” Comprehension dawned. Andrew felt himself stepping onto treacherous ground here, but he lumbered on. “How is it that a beautiful, smart, talented woman like you is still single?”
“Typical story. I waited too long, hoping Mr. Perfect would come by. He never did and now the good men are all taken.”
“Not all of them,” he said.
She snorted softly. “Well, there aren’t very many of the sort I need,” she muttered. “All the real men got steamrolled by political correctness.”
Reckoning
By Kate Robins
“Follow me to the living room. You’ve got to see this.”
“Lead on,” O’Brian acceded.
It was a dramatic, sunken, semi-circular room with tile floors, a cathedral ceiling, a massive fireplace, and wide windows that extended down a few inches from the floor – an unexpected package within the traditional exterior.
“I’m impressed,” O’Brian whispered, one eye on Carolyn.
She could feel his attention and nervously tossed her hair back from the side of her face. Stay in control, she told herself. He’s just a client.
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