Chicks-n-Scratching

Coin Operated edits are done over at Carina Press and release date is speeding closer! Inez and I have some fun stuff in the works for another of the Dirty Laundry series, our co-write, Talk Dirty To Me, so stay tuned for the chance to name the hero of TDTM AND a contest!

Meanwhile, here’s a sneak peek at Coin Operated, coming early this summer from Carina!

****

Eli crossed the room, closed the door to his office and wrenched the lock. The click of the latch was sharp and seemed almost amplified. Turning, he caught her fleeting expression—shock? Her eyes were trained on the door behind him.

“What are you doing?”

He closed the distance between them and lifted her against him.

She braced her hands on his biceps, alarm registering in her eyes as she tore her gaze away from the door. “Eli, what are you doing?”

Eli turned without explanation and walked her back to his desk. She didn’t say anything the whole way, just flexed her fingers into the sleeves of his shirt and let him steer her. His knuckles grazed the desk’s edge. Her eyes were huge, and he could just about fucking drown in them. He leaned in, tipping his head so that when he spoke, the movement of his lips had their mouths brushing, ever so slightly.

“You always call me Eli, Bea.”

Her lips parted, and the tip of her tongue grazed the edges of her front teeth. He let go of her and gripped the desk behind her.

Her voice, carried on a warm wash of rushed breath, was shaky. “I know that.”

“Let’s try ‘Mr. Elliot’ instead. Just for fun.”

Confusion crossed her face. “Mr. Elliot?”

“Good. Remember that. Kiss me.” It wasn’t a request, not the way he felt, without brakes, gaining speed, crowding in on her. A low buzz thrummed through his head at the color that crept up from her throat to stain her high cheekbones.

“Eli,” she said, pressing against his chest. He let go of the desk, wrapping his fingers around her wrists.

He trapped her arms, closing the space between them. He didn’t care how hard he was forcing her into the desk. That the backs of her thighs hit just at the edge of the heavy oak was sign enough she was just made to be bent over it.

He nudged at her ear with the bridge of his nose, his head spinning. “Do you need me to repeat that?”

She shook her head. He could feel the heat of her skin as it flushed, her cheek warming against his. He couldn’t get air; he needed Bea’s mouth on his or he would die. He had never before in his life been as turned on, or as terrified. There was no going back.

In a painfully slow motion, she tilted her face. He cupped her chin with unsteady fingers and divided her lips with an aggressive thrust of his tongue. A muffled sound whimpered into his mouth. She jerked at his hold. The bottle slipped from her hand and rolled across the carpet. She tugged against his fingers at the same time that her lips parted and her hips tilted into his.

Eli was a goner.

***

Happy Friday, chicks readers! Enjoy your weekend!