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Here are a couple of sneak peeks from the EPIC Romance and Erotica Group with Rebecca Hamilton!
Deep Focus: Young Hollywood Book 1 by Madisyn Ashmore
I laid my head back across the couch and kicked my feet up over his strong thighs. My foot brushed across his lap as I stretched. I felt the hardness already forming in his pants, his bulge pressing towards me.
“Your parents, do they still live there?”
My chest tightened. I hated telling this part of my life story because of the pity it elicited from friends and strangers alike.
“My parents died in a car crash when I was fourteen. I went to live with my aunt after that. We’re not close.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“No, It’s okay. I was sort of a wild teenager, so I don’t blame her. But anyway, we don’t really keep in touch much anymore.” I paused. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”
He rubbed the soles of my feet and traced his fingers along my calves. My muscles relaxed against his firm touch. As he drew circles on my skin, an intense warmth washed over my body.
“I think LA is the place where outcasts, misfits, and lonely people come to find their soul.” He breathed the words like the they were meant for only himself. He looked surprised when my soft voice echoed a reply.
“Was that true for you? Did you come to Los Angeles searching for your soul?”
He thought quietly for a moment before his husky voice deepened. “I came here running. Running away from a past that…” His voice broke off. “I came here searching, and to start a new life.”
“And did you?”
“I found that money wins a lot of friends, but not the kind that you can count on forever. I’ve had a lot of women keep me warm at night, but none that would’ve stayed if all this vanished.” He gestured to the expensively decorated room around us, an ornate display of his opulence and wealth. For the first time, I saw the crack in his facade and the real Oliver Tate emerged.
“What was your life like…before.” I paused, choosing my words carefully. “Before all this.”
“Not now, Scarlett. It’s long and boring and not worth discussing.” He shifted on the couch and breathed a heavy exhale.
There was still so much about Oliver Tate I didn’t know. With every detail I discovered, a thousand more secrets loomed in the distance. I wanted him to release to me and tell me every broken and damaged part of himself. I could take it. I could take it all.
He laid back, his youthful face glistening with a mist of perspiration. I ran my fingers down the front of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning him, exposing his ripped abs, slick and steamy. His fingers gripped my arm, pulling me up to his face as he sucked and kissed my delicate lips.
I ran my hand along his pants, the heat spreading from his dark denim. My fingers grasped the stiff metal zipper, his rock hard warmth burning into my touch. He swelled as my hand grazed him…
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Cadence by Lisa Swallow
The ensuite door clicks open and Jax appears. Naked. Almost. A white hotel towel is slung and knotted low around his hips, barely reaching his knees, but aside from that… naked.
Naked. My breath disappears. The word won’t leave my head; and if I closed my eyes, I’m damn sure the image of his firm, muscular chest glistening with water wouldn’t leave either.
Relieved my mouth isn’t hanging open, I attempt to switch on the snarky Tegan who was about to give him a mouthful. Jax runs a hand through his damp hair and I’m distracted by the drops of water on his lips as they curve into a sheepish smile.
“Oh, hey, Tegan.”
Hey, Tegan? I clear my throat and tear my look from his mouth. “Why haven’t you left yet? You have a shower in your own room!”
Jax’s lips purse with confusion. “Uh. Waiting for you. I wanted to talk to you about last night. I woke up in your bed, but you weren’t there. I know I was drunk but…” He stares at my gym gear or more precisely how the purple gym vest and black pants hug my curves. “I’m damn sure I’d remember if I’d been naked with you.”
The darkened look in Jax’s eyes reflects exactly what’s happening in his imagination. I remain focused on his eyes. Do. Not. Look. At. His. Body.
My eyes drifts downwards and I fight against lingering on the solid abs and the light trail of hair disappearing into the knotted towel. Has he tattoos any lower than where the blue stars are inked on his skin at the edge of the towel?
I blink away the image. “Last night, you stood me up, then barged into my room in the early hours, whined for a bit before you passed out on my bed. Way to impress a girl.”
Jax tips his head towards the bed. “Could’ve been worse. Or better, depending on which way you want to look at the situation.”
I focus hard on not staring some more at Jax, or acknowledging I’m suddenly less pissed off and more aroused. “You should be so lucky!”
Jax steps towards me. “One day I think I will be, we agreed.”
I look directly into Jax’s eyes, so I can’t be tempted by his mouth — or any other part of him in touching distance. “Put some clothes on.”
“Or you could take yours off?”
I want to retort; but unsure whether my voice will fail and give my state of mind away, I clamp my mouth closed.
Jax inches closer and I back up. “Come on, Tegan, I can see in your face what you’re thinking.”
“I doubt that.” I swallow. I should turn and walk away, but memories of the way Jax kisses leads to temptation for more. “Get dressed.”
Jax sticks his bottom lip out, turns his back, and approaches the bed, hands going to the edge of the knot securing the towel. Before I get a view of his ass to bank with the other images, I spin around and leave the room.
“Nice try!” I call and Jax’s response is laughter.
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