Dantès Unglued has been out for just over a week now and readers have fallen in love with Quinn and Shane. And what’s not to love? Shane is oh-so-sexy and Quinn…God Quinn is just too cute. I love our little gamer and our cocky PI.
But now that the dust has started to settle, I wanted to take a moment on behalf of Rinda and myself to say Thank You!
Thank you to all the reader who have supported us through 10 books now. Thank you to all the readers who have enjoyed the car chases, explosions, fires, punches, and shootouts. We’ve gone through duct tape, gauze, pain killers, lube, condoms, and soooo much freaking alcohol.
But you’ve also been there for first kisses. First times…
Those first I-love-you’s even if they didn’t always go how the guys would have liked.
You’ve been there for the first proposal. And as Rinda and I keep writing, I hope that we will get to see a few more along with some other firsts.
At the moment, we are hard at work on Deadly Dorian, book 3 of the Ward Security series. We are aiming for a spring launch – likely sometime in April. We’ve got about half the book written and we’re enjoying the exploration of Royce and Marc’s story.
The first teaser was actually at the end of Dantès Unglued, as we gave you the first chapter of the new book.
Rinda has also give this snippet to our Facebook Group, Unbreakable Readers.
Hope you enjoy it!
The sheer agony that flashed through Marc’s features managed to crack through a wall Royce had spent years strengthening. His fingers tightened more without him even realizing it until Marc sucked in a soft breath and dropped his gaze to Royce’s mouth.
“The way you’re looking at me,” Royce whispered, unable to disguise the hint of anger in his voice. It came from his utter inability to resist. “You have to stop.”
“I can’t,” he whispered back, staring at Royce’s lips. “I know what I said in my office, but I didn’t mean it. I want you.”
“This is dangerous game you’re playing.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not an easy man. Not a…gentle man.”
“It’s not a game.” Marc slid his hands up Royce’s chest. “And gentle is the last thing I want.”
Royce’s eyes snapped shut as he fought the most animalistic urge surge through his entire body. He wanted his hands and his mouth all over this man, consequences be damned. He jerked him close, felt a rush of hot breath over his lips, and he tried to gather what was left of his control. “I’m not looking for anything more than a fuck.”
“Neither am I,” Marc breathed into his mouth. “This is happening, Royce. I want you to fuck me. Bad. Stay right here.” He leaned in and bit Royce’s lower lip, sucked it into his mouth, then let it go with a pop. “Don’t move while I grab a quick shower.”
He started to walk away but Royce clutched his arm and tugged him back, locking his eyes with startled blue ones. “Just so you know, I like calling the shots. Hurry.”
The shiver that wracked Marc’s frame was so subtle he would have missed it if he hadn’t been paying such close attention. And that wasn’t the only thing. A hint of vulnerability, of unease, flashed over his features. There and gone so fast, it gave Royce pause as he wrestled with the simultaneous needs to fuck and to comfort. This comfort thing he kept feeling was a real problem—one he had decided to never feel again years ago—so he shoved it away, let go of Marc, and began to slowly unbutton his shirt.
That jump-started Marc into motion. He disappeared into the master bathroom and the sound of the shower started fast.
Royce kicked off his shoes and slowly took off his clothes, anticipation blazing through him, burning like an inferno in every inch of his body. He knew, he just knew, that Marc was going to feel magnificent under him as he draped his jacket, shirt and slacks over the chaise. He sat, eyes still locked on the bathroom door as he removed his socks. He stood and slipped off his boxers, then stood in the middle of the room.
When Marc opened the door, he started cursing under his breath as he stared. He seemed to be stuck in the door so Royce motioned him forward. “Lose the towel.”
When that strip of black cotton hit the floor, Royce’s jaw wanted to follow it. Fuck, the man spent his life hunting for beautiful works of art and here he was, walking around as the finest one Royce had seen. At just over six feet, his slim body was a mix of heady, sleek muscles and endless, graceful legs. And his cock. Long and slim like the rest of him with an elegant, slight curve. Royce knew his skin there would be satiny and warm. As his mouth watered, Royce bit down on his lip so he didn’t do something stupid like tell the man how beautiful he was, how he wished he could sculpt in clay because he’d give anything to have that body captured as it was in this moment.
“You’re beautiful,” Marc said, his voice low and rumbly.
He’d read Royce’s mind because there was no way he was talking about his tough, wiry form. Hot, maybe, if someone was into scars and hard edges—but anything other than a thing of beauty.
Thank you so much for reading!