Published: December 4th, 2013
Description: 18+
He needs her to save a friend.
She needs him to plan her revenge.
Their pasts scar them Layers Deep.
Their passion distracts them…
…and distractions can be fatal.
Tristan Cross is battling emotional demons from the past. He lives in a world where trust is earned, loyalties are tested, and love is impossible. That is, until he meets Allie Green. She’s the only woman who can help him find a kidnapped friend and to top it off, she captivates him. All he has to do now is persuade her to work for Cross Enterprises, his top investigations firm.
Allie Green is a rookie cop seeking revenge and she’s willing to sell her soul to get it. With an opportunity to use Tristan Cross’s resources Allie calculates her time for payback. As vengeance boils her blood she can’t keep her mind off her new boss and Allie finds it difficult to keep her employment professional. With the mouth watering Tristan Cross distracting her, she struggles to prioritize an undercover job she’s been assigned and her hunger for revenge.
And when you’re ready to give up your life to save someone else, distractions can be fatal.
Note: This book is the first part of a Trilogy that is designed to be read in order. Tristan and Allie will get their happy ending but not until book 2 and 3. This book contains a cliff hanger ending you will not expect. A prequel to the series which can be read alone is Dazzled by Silver.
How do you judge what makes a good erotic story when writing your own fiction?
For me it's the effect the scene or story has on my own emotions. Since I've written it, I know what will happen, and if those words can still conjure feelings I'm trying to evoke after reading it ten or fifteen times, then it's a good story. I like twists, turns and pushing my characters to their limit. And if they reach that limit, I push some more.
EXCERPT:
My feet pressed to the floor as the elevator lifted against gravity. Tristan turned, facing me. His sultry stare bore through my body, and I felt my back press against the mirrored wall.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hold power over me; no man ever had. I was a cop. A strong cop who wasn’t swayed by crying mothers, cute puppies, or gorgeous hunks speeding in their Ferraris, offering everything they owned and more. But I was also a woman – and to Tristan, my body responded of its own accord. I felt my breasts swell and I wished I’d worn a dress with a larger top: one that could hold the twins in better. Tristan didn’t seem to mind.
“So, what will two thousand dollars buy me, sweetheart?”
Even if we were playing, I had a feeling this was going to be one hell of an interview—one of the best ones I’d ever had.
“Whatever you want.” I wondered how far he’d go, and how far I’d allow him to go. I already knew what he wanted. My instincts were solid, especially the hormonal ones. My body had secretly ached for his touch since he’d walked into the auditorium. And that one deep kiss we’d shared in his car was like a teasing spoonful of chocolate cake. I craved chocolate cake; and not just a bite.
And before I could say another word, Tristan crushed his mouth to mine, possessing it like he owned me, spreading my lips apart with his needy tongue. The hint of scotch still lingered in his mouth. And at this moment, he did own me. Every. Single. Piece of me.
His grip on my wrists above my head would have normally enraged me. But tonight I wasn’t a cop, and his strong and demanding fingers wrapped around my hands like cuffs, burning me with a long-forgotten yearning.
The force of his lips devoured mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. The few moans that escaped me, Tristan swallowed. I had no room to breathe and found hardly enough strength to stand on my legs.
He let go of my mouth and trailed his lips along my jaw to my cheek and ear before lowering down my neck, pinning me against the wall. Oh, God, he felt so good against my body. Everything inside me twisted and tightened and released in unbearable pulses between my thighs. I breathed him in, the oak smell of his scotch imprinted in his skin and in his hair.
The elevator halted and Tristan jolted up as if he’d just realized what he’d done. He searched my eyes with his as if asking permission to go on. And for the first time tonight, doubt crept in. He leaned his forehead against mine.
“We can’t do this. I’m your employee,” I whispered into his mouth. But inside, I laughed at my own unconvincing words, feeling the heat between my legs penetrate my dampened panties.
The open elevator door chimed the second time.
“Your body says we can.” He cupped my engorged breasts, one in each hand, squeezing them in slow motion, feeling their full weight.
I held my breath, pushing my chest into his palms, filling them.
He looked straight into my eyes. “And you’re not hired until the morning.”
This time, his mouth took my lips slowly. The forceful tongue softened, teasing my gums, and I couldn’t get enough of his taste as he guided me into his apartment. We never broke our kiss and I couldn’t remember when my arms wrapped around his neck and fingers weaved through his silky hair. Tristan’s hands slid down my body and under my skirt, scrunching it up to my waist, and I felt him smile against my mouth.
“You’re prepared.” His palm covered the hand gun in a holster strapped to my thigh.
“You never know what weirdo you’ll run into on the street.”
He laughed, pulling the buckle open. Tristan set my piece aside on the table.
“What else are you hiding there?” He drew his finger along my brow, looking deep into my eyes. And for a moment I thought he could see everything, including my soul.
“Things I can never forget.” Did I just say that?
“I want to help you forget, for tonight at least.” The comfort and understanding in his eyes struck me deep inside. But behind those deep amber-like gems there was also pain. I wasn’t the only one hurting. Whatever had happened to Tristan must have been bad. Perhaps he was scarred as deep as I was? Had he ever allowed anyone to see what was hidden, layers deep inside his heart? I wondered what secrets he held and whether he’d share them.
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About the author:
Lacey is an Author of Erotic Romance. Her stories come from her life, dreams and fantasies. She’s a happily married wife with two kids. Lacey likes to make her readers blush and experience the story as if they were the characters. Drawing on the reader’s most sensitive emotions through realistic stories satisfies her more than… …ok not really, but you get the point;) She likes a pinkish shade on a woman’s cheeks, men with large feet and sexy lingerie-especially when it’s torn off the body. Her favorite piece of clothing is a ‘birthday suit’.
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