We are thrilled to bring you this hot & sexy exclusive excerpt for Three Dirty Secrets by Nikki Sloane
Coming soon on January 26, 2016!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1mdj8dL Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1PrLtYW iTunes: http://apple.co/1R2NpXz
No man can own me. I negotiate sex for money at an illicit blindfold club, but my body is not for sale. I don’t submit and I don’t surrender. Until I meet him. This beautiful artist’s tattoo now covers the scar of the worst mistake of my life. Being with him could expose everything I’ve been hiding, and although there’s so much at stake, I can’t stop myself. The battle for control between us is too hot, too powerful to resist. With all my dirty secrets, what’s going to happen when he forces me to come clean? NOTE: This book is a standalone with no cliffhanger ending, but does include scenes of MFF. Mature readers only.
Exclusive Excerpt:Silas stalked forward and I had to fight the instinct to flee at his rapid approach. His shadow fell on me until he blocked all of the light, and his hands seized my face, drawing me into his brutal kiss. His aggressive mouth moved against mine, demanding and serious. I didn’t think I had room for any more desire, but his kiss was another dose that rapidly flooded my senses. We stumbled together, lips locked, until my back was against a wall. My head thumped against it, but neither of us let up. His hard body pressed into me, flattening me with his heat, and I hiked a leg, wrapping it behind his thigh so our bodies were tight together. The kiss deepened. It flared and burned hotter as one of his hands was on my ass, fingers digging in. The other was on my waist, pinning me in place. He swallowed my moan when he bent his knees and thrust against me. This teasing with clothes on bullshit had to go. I both loved and hated it. He must have had the same thought. Silas put one palm flat on the wall by my head, and the other slid down the front of my jeans. “Fuck, yes,” I whispered. I planted both feet back on the ground. My fingers were clumsy as I tore my snap open and unzipped, pushing the fly of my pants open wide so he could get in there. “Shit, your mouth is hot as hell.” “When it’s being direct?” I gazed up at him while his fingers burrowed deeper inside my panties. “Or when it’s sucking your cock?” His hand shifted and the fingers stirred, touching me right on my clit. “Both.” I clutched at his chest, digging into his solid form, and curled my hands into fists so I could yank him back to me using his t-shirt. I did it so hard, I heard threads ripping. Shit. “Hope this shirt wasn’t one of your favorites.” “It’s rapidly becoming that,” he whispered against my mouth. Then he kissed me so hard my eyes slammed shut, and there was nothing to do but stand there and endure it. I didn’t like to be dominated, but trapped against the wall by this enormous, sexy man . . . wasn’t quite so bad. When his kiss let up, his fingers buried inside my pants twitched. It was the tiniest of movements, but my whole body shuddered in response. My eyes flew open and I reeled, searching and finding him. I was dizzy with need, and shifted my hips, urging him to move his hand again. But his thick fingers just sat there, pressed against my damp, aching pussy, not moving. I needed relief. I was desperate for someone else to get me off beside myself. His eyes weren’t locked onto mine. His gaze seemed to be studying my mouth and the way I struggled for breath. He stared at my lips like he wanted to devour them. The hunger in his expression was erotic. I swallowed dryly. The throbbing between my legs was reaching epic meltdown, and both of my hands locked on his wrist to force him to move. “You like to be in charge?” His voice was low and seductive. “That’s too bad, Regan. So do I.” In my frenzied state, I was slow. His hand withdrew from me, and before I could form the protest, he caught both of my wrists and shoved them up over my head, pinning them to the wall. His large, strong hands crossed my wrists, and he secured them both in the grip of one hand. My breath caught. His silver eyes were rimmed with a darker blue at the outer edge of his irises, and it was hauntingly beautiful. He watched me as his freehand caressed over my belly, and dipped beneath the edge of my panties once more.
About the Author:
Nikki Sloane landed in graphic design after her careers as a waitress, a screenwriter, and a ballroom dance instructor fell through. For eight years she worked for a design firm in that extremely tall, black, and tiered building in Chicago that went through an unfortunate name change during her time there. Now she lives in Kentucky and manages a team of graphic artists. She is a member of the Romance Writers of America, is married with two sons, writes dirty books, and couldn't be any happier.
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