Storm Stone’s super erotic eight-part serialized novel continues with Part Three: Casual Car Cravings. The irresistible and all-consuming lusts that Jemma and Damon have for each other keeps pulling them together, despite secrets they’re keeping from each other, secrets that could tear them apart forever.
Read on for a hot excerpt, then pick up your copy to read the whole story.
The heated atmosphere in the room wound up a notch, leaving her feeling flushed, warm moisture blooming between her legs.
“What else is in there, for goodness sakes?” She tried to keep the mood light, stalling for time.
“Seafood chop suey, sweet and sour prawns, and egg fried rice,” he recited. “For you.”
“God, I’ll never be able to eat all of that!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll finish what you can’t. Now let’s go to bed.”
“Damon!” She tried to look shocked. “Do you have to be so—”
He took a swig of the beer and pinned her with his gaze. “Crude, crass?”
“Well, I say what I think.” His eyes narrowed as they moved over her body. “And with you walking around in next to nothing, all I can think about is getting you into that bed.”
He walked towards the side of the room where the double bed seemed to be waiting for him, not even reaching out to take her hand, just expecting her to follow, which she did like a damn puppy-dog.
Sitting on the side of the bed, he pulled off his boots and stretched out, totally at ease, hands behind his head. “Take off your clothes.”
Jemma stood at the foot of the bed, staring at him in disbelief. “Just like that?”
“Yeah, just like that.”
She tilted her head and smiled, the wine giving her false courage. “I’ll make a deal with you.”
His dark brows lifted. “Another deal?”
“Yep, another deal.”
He smiled, crossing his ankles, obviously enjoying himself. “Okay. Shoot.”
“I’ll take something off, and then it’s your turn.” She gave him what she hoped was a seductive smile.
“Okay.” His tawny eyes were those of a predator in the soft light. “I asked first, so you start”
She hesitated, but the wine was doing its work. Taking a deep breath, she lifted the hem of her vest, pulling it slowly up her arms and over her head, dropping it to the floor.
“Your turn.” She shook her head, allowing her hair to settle over her shoulders, taut nipples peeking through the dark strands.
Suddenly he was no longer relaxed, his face tight, his gaze fixed on her swelling breasts. Lowering his hands without taking his eyes off her, he unbuttoned the dark green shirt he was wearing, shrugged it off his shoulders, and dropped it to the floor.
It was Jemma’s turn to stare. There was one lamp on by the bed, and the kitchen light behind them, reflecting off his beautifully muscled torso, casting shadows over every swell and valley of his strong, bronzed physique.
“Your turn,” he said softly, watching her watching him.