The books I feature are from authors who were not afraid to be soulful, sappy, and/or suggestive when it came to their heroes. Did Santa bring that ereader you wished for? Then let's put it to good use and add these new releases to your collection.
“How do you mean?”
“A week, Spence? I’ve been back in town for six months, and you wait until you only have a week left?” She raised an eyebrow. “On purpose? A way to make sure things don’t get too hot and heavy?”
His bark of laughter made her feel only marginally better. The tightness in her chest eased when he shook his head, a rueful smile crinkling his eyes. “I’m not that bright.”
“You’re bright enough to be admitted to medical school.” She tapped the rim of her empty glass then gathered a bit of the salt on the pad of her finger. “I bet you know how to handle women too,” she said, carrying the coarse grains to her lips.
She sucked the salt from her finger and his pupils dilated, ebony pools widening until they swallowed the bittersweet brown. Beth let her eyes close as she drew on the digit, reliving the moment when his salty musk filled her mouth. A low moan curled its way through the desire fogging her brain. She opened her eyes but had a hard time determining if the sound came from him or her.
“You think I would have taken those six months if I knew?” he asked.
She plucked the finger from her mouth. A wicked smile curved her lips when the memory of a familiar popping sound registered in his glazed eyes. “Knew what?”
“I never thought you’d want me too. Not until the day of my shoot. Not until I caught you peeking.”
“So you tricked me into sneaking another peek?”
“I had to be sure. I needed to know this wasn’t wishful thinking on my part.”
He reached for her hand and pulled it to his mouth. Her fingers curved to the contour of his cheek and stubbly whiskers scraped her palm. His lips caressed the pulse strumming in her wrist. He pressed a tender kiss to the center of her palm, his eyes locked on her the entire time.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Sorry for the oblivion. Sorry I wasted our time. I won’t waste any more, I promise.”
“For at least the next few days,” she amended.
“Six,” he corrected with a wince. Clasping her hand, he held it firmly between his. “My life is not going to be my own for the next four to six years.”
“At a minimum,” she added with a nod.
“But if you want me, the next six days are yours. All yours.”
Maggie Wells, Jumping Mr. January
He nodded, as though he was expecting the question. “I could ask you the same thing, Elena.” Just the way he said her name brought on the tingles. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”
Again. He knocked the breath out of her lungs again. The first time her butt might have been partially to blame, but this time his words had the same effect. Hell, nearly every word out of this man’s mouth was like poetry to her ever-increasing libido.
God bless him, he even knew when to keep talking, because right now she was having a hard enough time breathing let alone forming a coherent sentence. “I’m pushing towards thirty-five. I have two younger sisters who are married with children. I’m just…tired of dating the wrong women. It’s so hard to find someone you connect with on more than one level. I thought maybe this site would do the dirty work for me.”
“God,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m having a really amazing fantasy in my head right now. Do you think, uh…Could you say the whole ‘beautiful’ thing again?”
He laughed harder than she’d heard him laugh. He could laugh all night long and she’d never grow tired of it. When he calmed down, he raised a hand to cup her cheek and repeated the magic word in a deep, husky timbre. “Elena, you are a stunningly beautiful woman.”
Evelyn Jules, Cheapskates In Love
"St. John is beautiful," Chris replied.
"Not that. I mean you. You didn't have to go to his house and unload all
Chris shrugged, concentrating on backing out of the dock and turning the heavy boat around.
"And you weren't coming here anyway," Whitney continued.
Chris met her eyes, but didn't say anything.
"I'll bet you're going back another day to help him put in those windows and fix his roof," she said.
Chris kept one hand on the wheel, but reached out with the other arm and pulled Whitney tight against him. His arm wrapped all the way around her, practically crushing her against his chest. "If I kiss you, will you stop talking?" he asked.
"Maybe," she said, unbalanced but strangely steady. "I can't tell you for sure."
"Because I need to test the theory?"
"No," she whispered, "because I can't think when you're touching me."
"Good," he said, lowering his head to hers.
The thrum of the boat's engine under her feet was no match for the buzz electrifying her body where it met his. Chris' scent, sun-warmed skin, was the first sensation. Fingers brushed her cheeks, stroking outward and
tangling in her hair until his hands held her head firmly. Not that she would have moved. His lips found hers at the very moment she was sure she could not wait another second. Gentle at first, then more insistent, his mouth covered hers. Leaning into him and slipping her hands under the back of his T-shirt, she surrendered to the kiss like a diver leaping from the beam into warm inviting water. Eyes closed, Whitney focused on every square inch of connection between them. Lips, hands, bodies. A loud boat horn shattered the kiss like glass.
Amie Denman, Will Work For Love
“Shhh. Tenlee dear, you can’t take blame for having any part in this. None of this was your fault.” When he felt her stiffen and start to pull back he held her in place. “Tenlee, if you had worked Christmas morning, you still wouldn’t have been there to run the errand for her. She was meant to go to the store that morning. Don’t you see?”
He pulled back to search her eyes. “There was nothing you could have done to change that. And as for you working that morning, I think you were supposed to switch shifts. That way, you wouldn’t have to be the one to help her. God spared you that extra bit of sorrow, because I believe that if you had been the one there and she still had passed away, your grief and guilt would be even worse than it is now. It was her time. I’m sorry.”
He pulled slightly away, but didn’t let her go. “It’s okay to grieve for her, to miss her, to even wish you had her back.”
His hand came up to grip her chin gently and he made her look him in the eye. “But don’t you, for one second, believe you had anything to do with it. Do you
hear me? I won’t let you go on any longer carrying this burden that isn’t yours. Tonight, here and now, it lies in a jail cell with its rightful owner.”
Tenlee stared up at him with such trust it stole his breath. She was so beautiful, and it crushed him to see her in pain. He hadn’t known her for very long, but he’d grown to care about her in the past few weeks.
Tenlee took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ll try. It’s all I can promise.”
“Then, I’ll take it.”
They stood there for a few moments looking into each other’s eyes. An ever growing need to kiss her enveloped him. He lowered his head just an inch or two and waited, looking at her, hoping she would agree. When he saw Tenlee lick her lips, desire filled him, and when she ever so softly nodded her head yes, that need ran over the edges of his self-control. He lowered his head and feathered his lips gently over hers, but when their lips touched and he felt the connection between them grow, he knew he was lost forever.
Sarah Hoss, Heaven Sent
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Renee Vincent is an award-winning author of historical and contemporary romance.