Tuesday Tease: Waiting for Tuesday

It’s that time again, ya’ll! This week, I’ve got an excerpt from Waiting for Tuesday, by Taylor Sullivan. I first met Taylor on a site for writers, and she’s never failed to entrance me! Here’s another great one!

18678845_854123644742340_106408813_nThe night I met John Eaton I felt that stability crumble. His smile, a mixture of little boy and pure devil. I knew his type, knew the sort of games that came with men like him, so I pushed. But he pulled harder. I tried to fight it, to shove away the connection that clawed at my heart, but it was too late. Roots dug in, grew deep, and twisted. I was his. But a secret is a dangerous thing. Held too long, it can rip a life apart.

When we got to the double doors, I held them open, stepping aside to let her enter the kitchen first. The room was empty, clean for the night except for the tools I’d left on the ground earlier. She slipped past me, her wild hair brushing my arm as she clutched the bag that was almost as big as she was.
“Right this way,” I said, leading her to a doorway on the left.
She paused when she saw the staircase and glanced over her shoulder. For a second I thought she might change her mind, come to her senses, and realize she was a tiny girl, and I was the man who’d had librarian fantasies about her all night. But she didn’t. She lifted her chin, adjusted her bag, and started climbing.
I frowned. I didn’t know why, but I didn’t like this one bit. All of a sudden, I wanted to lecture her about strangers. She looked like a strong woman, but I had no doubt I could snap her like a twig. My brows furrowed, and I remembered the guys who’d cornered her in the hall earlier. I followed behind her, my eyes locked on the slight sway of her hips noticeable even from under her baggy overalls, and I shook my head. When we made it to the top of the loft, my jaw ached from clenching so hard. Of course I have jumper cables.
What self-respecting man doesn’t have jumper cables?
I walked past her, set my drawer on the desk, and gestured to the phone. “Do you always follow strange men you just met?” I couldn’t quite explain my anger. This was exactly what I wanted, but now I was pissed she wasn’t making wiser choices. Why I felt so protective over a woman I just met was beyond me, but there was something primal about how I felt about her. Maybe my response stemmed from finding her cornered by those assholes, or the fact I grew up with three sisters, or maybe it was because she reminded me of Bambi—a deer caught in headlights, who couldn’t get out of her own way.
I turned around and met her heated stare. Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as much of a Bambi after all. Her stance was wide, her cheeks red, and her eyes were as bright as a brush fire.
“Do you always try to bed two women in one night?”
What the hell?
My brows drew together and I grinned. “Bed two women?” It shouldn’t have been so amusing, but this wasn’t the reaction I’d expected. “What are you talking about?”
She hoisted her bag high on her shoulder and half laughed, half scoffed. “It doesn’t matter.” She picked up the phone and began dialing.
I cringed and gripped the back of my neck. I wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was, but at the same time, I knew without a doubt that would be the wrong thing to do. I opened the lock box and tried to focus on my job, but her words bothered me and I couldn’t keep quiet. “Is that what you thought? That I was bringing you up here to sleep with you?”
She shrugged then turned to face me. She was beautiful. Maybe even a little hotter when angry.
“Does that mean you wan―” But my question was interrupted by her doubling over with laughter.
Fair enough.

***

Taylor is a contemporary romance author who loves writing stories about real people. Ones with hopes, dreams, fears, insecurities, and flaws. She loves to read as much as she loves to write, and is trilled to share her stories with you. When Taylor isn’t writing, she can often be found with her nose in a book, her face behind a camera, or spending time with her husband and three young children.

Connect with Taylor

TaylorSullivanAuthor.com
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Taylor-Sullivan-Author
Twitter: https://twitter.com/@AuthorTSullivan

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Tuesday Tease: The Boy Friend

This week, I feature and excerpt from the Boy Friend by the incredible Mika Jolie, author of the Martha’s Way series.

TBF Amazon.jpgI’ve found someone I can trust. Coriander is my human diary, and there’s some attraction there, too. But what now?
It is important to proceed with care and take a moment to consider the pros and cons of taking our relationship to the next level.
CONS:
 Are you willing to make the sacrifice? It’s always the number one concern when anyone considers dating a friend
 what if it doesn’t last? If we break up, we might have to accept that our friendship might be lost forever.
PROS:
 But then again, I’ve known her all of my life. We have a history, been through a lot together.
 Our connection is strong. Nothing can go wrong, right?

I want her.

She wants me.

Just not enough. Actually, she’s smart. We’re a bad idea. I’m well aware of that, except I like bad ideas. Exhaling, I scrub a hand over my face. This unrequited desire needs to be tucked away. I should have put an end to these crazy thoughts from the beginning, but I entertained them . . . like a playful pet. Now, my desire has grown into a ferocious animal.

Acceptance is key here. I need to accept that I’m the boy friend, without the perks, and move on. No need for unnecessary tension. Our circle is tight. Attraction, lust, are part of the human flesh. These wild horses of my mind must be tracked down, captured, and tucked away in the Do-Not- Touch Cori file.

***

Mika Jolie lives in New Jersey with her Happy Chaos—her husband and their energizer bunnies. A sports fanatic and a wine aficionado, she’s determined to balance it all and still write about life experiences and matters of the heart. Let’s face it, people are complicated and love can be messy. When she’s not weaving life and romance into evocative tales, you can find her on a hiking adventure, apple picking, or whatever her three men can conjure up.

***

Website: http://www.mikajolie.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/mikajolie.author/?ref=hl
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MikaJolie1
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8294433.Mika_Jolie
Amazon: http://amazon.com/author/mikajolie

 

Tuesday Tease: Hot Pink Heels

This week, I bring to you an excerpt from Hot Pink Heels, first in the humorous “Hot Pink” erotica series by newcomer D. de Carvalho.

Hot Pink HeelsMild-mannered shoe-salesman Johnny has a talent for inserting large things into small spaces. When a Vision in urgent need of Johnny’s special services enters the shoe shop, the battle between shy store clerk and Ug, the caveman in his pants, begins.

Will Johnny manage to slip Vision’s feet into the perfect pair of Hot Pink Heels before Ug slips himself somewhere else? What is a gentleman to do?

 

The door chime tinkled, and I glanced up from the knee-high leather riding boot in front of me. The damn thing refused every effort to zip it closed around the plump leg wedged into it. My right index finger pushed my glasses up through the droplets of sweat beading my nose, but froze in place at the vision before me. Dear god in heaven but she was a glorious vision, or so said my cock as it snapped to attention with an audible click of its heels and a bellowed, Ma’am! Yes, ma’am!

My brain hadn’t fully caught up with my member, but a subcutaneous duh-uh issued from somewhere behind my left ear just before my glasses-holding finger dropped to my side. The glasses, of course, immediately slipped down the sweat-slide and dropped off the end of my nose. I succeeded in stabbing myself in the eye in my haste to not look like a dweeb.

A throat cleared, and I glanced across to the serving counter where Roxanne Swells, manager and owner of Roxanne’s Sole Mates, was giving me the evil eye.

“Someone will be with you in a moment,” she assured the Vision while her fingers flicked me back towards the half-zipped boot and the bovine socialite protruding from it, clearly indicating I was to carry on with my work.

I tried—honest, I did—crouched over the tubular limb, sliding my fingers inside the zipper, kneading and massaging the chubby calf into the boot, then easing the zip up another half-inch or so. But all the time I fought with that tree trunk leg, I was acutely aware of the Vision behind me.

She moved gracefully around the displays, examining shoes, lifting first a loafer then a pump, turning it over and around, sliding a hand slowly inside and withdrawing just as slowly. I caught glimpses of her in my peripheral vision. Damn, but she seemed to be hovering there a lot. And when she wasn’t, I could hear her soft footsteps and the breathy little song she was humming… to herself… just for me…

“Ow!”

I stared at the thick leg in front of me and yanked hard on the zipper.

“Ouch! Young man, do you mind?” A meaty hand swiped my arm away, and as I jerked my head up in reaction, I tumbled backwards off my low stool.

The constant distraction of the Vision had kept my cock at full salute during the five minutes she’d been in the store, and I heard Mrs. Chubby-Calves’ greedy gasp as I landed on my back with my legs in the air. Boxers and dress pants, the cool professional option, weren’t much good at hiding a hard-on the size of mine.

I lay still a moment, part of me cringing at being raped by covetous granny-eyes, part of me wondering, if I held still just a moment longer, the Vision would come and offer to resuscitate me. My cock stood a little taller at the thought.

“A word, Johnny.” Roxanne’s gravelly rasp cut through my haze and virtually levitated me to my feet. My boss was not the type of lady I wanted to piss off. Her long fingers crooked in my direction, drawing me towards her like the puppet I was. “What are you doing?” she whispered as I leaned obediently over the counter.

“Trying to fit size twelve calves into size nine boots. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is.”

She snorted. “I think everyone present is fully aware of how hard it is, Johnny. But showing off in the middle of tending a customer is not how we do things here.”

“I wasn’t showing off. I was, uh, distracted… I… Uhhh…” My eyes had already strayed from Roxanne’s thin face to the Vision. She was watching us, a pair of pink kitten heels in one hand, plump lips parted and tilted up ever so slightly at the corners. Her ample breasts filled the light peasant blouse admirably, her deep cleavage centred perfectly in the lace-up V at the low neck. A flouncy peasant skirt flowed over the smooth curves of hip and rump, and I imagined running my hands and head up under those flounces, opening my mouth, sticking out my—

“Johnny!”

My head snapped around. “Tongue!”

Roxanne looked at me.

“Uh…” I grabbed a discarded running shoe from the floor. “Tongue.” I waggled the offending shoe anatomy. “If you don’t put the lace through this little loop here”—I poked a pinky through it to illustrate my point—“the tongue drops inside and—”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“Uh, yeah. Shutting up.” I let the runner thud back to the floor.

“That boner gone down yet?”

That was a surprise. “Excuse me?”

“That Empire State Building you’re sporting. Got it under control yet?”

“Um…” I did a quick inventory. In the face of Roxanne’s disapproval, shrinkage did seem to be happening. I removed my glasses, wiping them and my sweaty nose to buy time, then replaced them on my face. “Yeah.”

“Then if you think you can hold it together, can you please finish up with your client?”

“Do I have to?” The pathetic whine in my voice made me feel like a pussy, but the thought of returning to those scary calves and their vast female proprietor, now simpering in my direction, sent my manhood into a decline. “Can’t you finish up for me? I’ll deal with that lady over there. She’s been waiting over five minutes.”

Roxanne glanced across at the Vision, who flashed a pouty smile in our direction. My cock immediately declared itself ready to slay dragons on her behalf and dashed across the store to tell her so. I followed in a blissful fog until Roxanne’s sharp, “Dammit, Johnny!” brought both of us to a screeching halt. Truly trapped between a rock and a hard place, I wrestled my unwilling member, kicking and screaming, back to the counter.

I turned pleading eyes on my boss, involuntarily comparing her board-like chest to the voluptuous mammaries now headed towards the door. My cock gave one final tug in their direction and collapsed sobbing against the seam of my boxers as the door chime tinkled the Vision’s exit. I sighed.

Roxanne slung a purse over her shoulder and came out from behind the counter. “I’m heading out now. Finish up, will you?”

The clock on the wall read five fifty-five, and hope thrummed in my chest. I glanced from the timepiece to the boot lady, her come-hither smile still beaming my way, to Roxanne. “It’s over? I can go home?” Please say yes. Say yes. Say yes. Visions of ripping the boots from those bulbous legs and shoving their owner out the door flooded my optimistic brain.

“For me, yes. For you,” Roxanne bent her considerable height down so her mouth hovered close to my ear. Her warm breath tickled the lobe, “it’s not over till the fat lady’s shins”—her smirk was audible—“are in those boots. And that’s your job, Johnny Boy. Yours alone.”

***

A native of far-flung locations, and a grade A student of life, Carvalho developed his passion for fine foods and erotic encounters at a young age. He is proud to be a practicing member of the BDSM community, as well as a self-confessed and widely acknowledged grumpy old man.

In the Hot Pink series, D. de Carvalho serves up a smorgasbord of hot ‘n spicy erotic tales with no holds barred. Whether you savor sweet romance or crave the delicious tang of dark desire, Carvalho caters with tales to tempt every taste. Each sexy story arrives with a side order of humor, sprinkled with a touch of suspense, paranormal or mystery.

***

Email: ddecarvalho@thehotpinkpress.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thehotpinkpress/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/hotpinkcarvalho
Website: http://thehotpinkpress.com/
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/D.-de-Carvalho/e/B01M2579HF/
Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/hot_pink

Tuesday Tease: Balancing Act

So, I stole this from Sammie Maxwell’s blog, and I’m going to do excerpts. Not just for me, though that’s where I’m starting, but for others as well. I’m sharing a short excerpt from my latest Work in Progress, Balancing Act, another installment in the Hearth and Forge series. And guess who gets to fall in love this time? Shaylie, of course! But you’ll never guess who her leading man is! Well… we open in his point of view, so… without further adieu…

Continue reading “Tuesday Tease: Balancing Act”