We need a sexy glimpse of Deadly Dorian! Only three days to the release of our newest Ward Security novel. This is a big book with big problems and even bigger passion. Royce Karras and Marc Foster burn up the pages, so make sure you have a cold drink handy.
I loved writing this so much, I almost wish I could start over from the beginning and experience it new again.
Deadly Dorian releases this Friday, April 13th. You can pre-order your copy here! This will also be releasing into Kindle Unlimited.
A low snort escaped Royce as he turned around and walked back toward the living room. Marc slung the bag over his right shoulder and followed. He was having trouble getting a read on Royce. It was like he was waffling between wanting to tell Marc to fuck off and wanting to shoot him with brief flashes of off-the-charts heat and glimmers of what might be called a sense of humor.
“I guess we should learn some stuff about each other. What’s your favorite food?”
Royce rolled his eyes and groaned. “Really? What are we? In grade school?”
“What? That’s the kind of shit people learn about each other when they’re dating.” Marc huffed a laugh. “But let me guess, you don’t date. You just pin ’em against the wall and fuck ’em hard.”
“I’ve never had any complaints.”
“Kind of difficult to hear complaints when you’re out the door before your pants are even closed again,” Marc snapped. Royce had stopped walking when they reached the kitchen and Marc now stood only inches away from him.
Marc closed his mouth with an audible click of his teeth in the deadly silent room. Royce stared at him with his too-perceptive eyes, his face utterly unreadable.
“Fuck it,” he whispered. Stepping around Royce, he started for the garage door. “It’s just my life. I’ll make it up as I go.” He’d barely gotten his fingers wrapped around the door handle when Royce’s voice broke the silence.
“Cheddar-cauliflower soup.” Marc’s entire body tensed as he waited for Royce to continue. He couldn’t figure out if the man was telling him his preference for dinner or…“I love cheddar-cauliflower soup. I found the recipe about a year ago, and I eat it about once a week. I eat healthy. I try to limit fried foods to once every other week. Very little red meat, sugar, or caffeine. Lots of chicken and fish.”
Closing his eyes, Marc dropped his head forward so that his forehead was pressed to the door. Royce was willing to pretend he hadn’t said anything, and he was grateful. He took a deep breath and tried to clear his head.
“What’s your favorite food?”
“Pistachios,” he replied without thinking.
“I thought you were allergic.”
“I am,” he said forcing a laugh because it was too damn late to take back his answer and give his usual one of steak or chocolate. Fucking Royce—he’d scrambled his brain. “Had one only once. For about two seconds, that little green nut was heaven.” He bit down on the inside of his mouth to keep from telling Royce that his older brother Gabriel had given him the nut as a joke. Gabriel had been horrified when Marc had ended up in the hospital for three days. It had just been a careless accident. “But my next favorite is grilled watermelon. Goes great with fish tacos.”
A firm hand landed on Marc’s shoulder, and he found himself spun around before he could release the doorknob. His shoulder slammed back, and Royce was standing so close their noses nearly touched when Marc tilted his head down.
“Do I need to worry about your love of pistachios?”
“Well, keep in mind if you’re entertaining any more death wishes that it’s my life on the line as well. Your would-be assassin has to get through me to get to you, and I have no desire to die on this job. You understand me?”
“Yes. Yes of course.” Marc’s heart was pounding in his ears as he stared down at Royce. Fuck, was it really possible for this man to look sexier? Despite being pinned between Royce’s hard body and the door, he wasn’t in any way afraid. No, he was turned-on, and if Royce didn’t take a step back, he was going to figure it out really damn fast.
“And just a quick reminder while I’m playing the adoring boyfriend, I’m still the one calling the shots. If I say leave, we leave. If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. Got it?”
“Yes,” Marc said on a sigh. Oh God, it was like some part of his brain was shutting down at the sound of Royce’s voice. The strength and power, all of it bearing down on him and he wanted to let go.
He heard Royce harshly suck in air as if he was drowning. The hand on his shoulder tightened for a moment, his thumb running along his collarbone in something that Marc desperately wanted to call a caress before Royce released him completely and took a step back. Cool air rushed in to take his place, and it was almost painful not to have him there. God, he needed to get laid.
“Let’s get out of here,” Royce said. His voice seemed deeper, rougher than before, but Marc didn’t let himself think about it. He opened the door and led the way back to his car. It was better to get this nightmare started.