It's here! Book 5 in the Lothario series,
UNDER THE COVERS,
is available today!!
The Lothario, aka THE LUST BOAT, sails again!
Special Agent, Bree Stanton has big plans. As soon as she solves her current case, she's moving on, even if it means leaving her heart behind. Falling in love with Drew Whitcomb was never supposed to happen, but she has no intention of giving up her dreams for a guy who's content to spend his days judging lewd contests, and pining for his best friend's wife.
Drew's job providing security for the Lothario's owners is the perfect cover. Keeping an eye on Bree isn't a hardship, but keeping his hands off her is more difficult. And convincing her to give him a chance is proving to be a mission impossible, given that she thinks he's still in love with his former partner, now his best friend’s wife. Drew is looking forward to the day he can show Bree the man under the cover, but until that day, he's going to do all he can to make sure she won't leave him when he does.
Set sail on the Lothario for a voyage filled with sex, lies and spies, and a bit of romance too!
“More.” Her lips formed the word, but she couldn’t be sure there had been a voice behind it. She couldn’t take anymore, but at the same time, she never wanted this to end. Who knew? Who knew a person could die of pleasure? And be happy about it?
“God, Woman…” The growled words preceeded Drew’s hard body falling against hers, mashing her beneath a wall of solid muscle and heat. So much heat. His hands slipped beneath her, cradling her ass, and tilting her to a better angle to receive his thrusts. Thrusts that had been agonizingly slow, making her scream inside when he pulled out, and filling something she’d never known was empty when he buried to the hilt again, came faster and harder now. He’d heard her, or read her mind. She didn’t care which, as her body began that familiar spiral toward heaven, or hell, depending on how you viewed it. It was heaven as long as she didn’t think too hard about who was taking her there. She willed that thought away, knowing all too soon she’d come crashing back to the hell of reality.
Heaven glistened brighter than it ever had. Drew anchored her to earth, stretched full length over her. His strong arms bracketed her face as he reached above her head to take her hands in his. She clung to him as the powerful orgasm roared through her, and just when the last tremor subsided, Drew flexed his hips and buried his cock hard against her womb. The walls of her pussy had never been more sensitive. She felt every involuntary thrust, every pulse, every hot spurt. She grinned at the unintelligible grunts and groans next to her ear that told her Drew wasn’t any less affected than she was.
As good as his skin felt against hers, she needed to breathe. “Drew…”
“Air. I need…” He released her hands and rolled to the floor beside her. The air-conditioned air raised goose bumps on her damp skin. Drew reached out and pulled her to him so she lay half-sprawled across his chest. His warm, heaving chest.
“Body heat…conserve…” She recognized the training mantra. Survival mode. Do whatever it takes to survive, because dead is final. She had her own survival mantra. Stay the hell away from Drew Whitcomb. She couldn’t let him see how much his touch affected her, how deeply he’d gotten under her skin. She had her plans, plans that didn’t include staying on this ship, or staying anywhere for any length of time. Drew was an anchor, and if she clung to him, he’d drag her down to the bottom of the ocean, and she’d drown in her own dreams. Her body still hummed with the drugging effect of good sex. She pushed up and away from the one place her body wanted to be right now. Only a fool fell under the oxytocin spell, and she’d fallen harder than most. Hormones made you stupid. Trusting and stupid.
“Where ‘ya goin’ darlin’?”
“Do you know you drop half of every word when you’re under the influence?” Bree squinted into the darkness, looking for her wrap. Drew rolled to his side. She jerked when one finger brushed her ankle. She had to get out of here before he touched her again.
She caught a glimpse of something blue and headed in that direction. “Oxytocin,” she explained. “The cuddle hormone.” She picked up her sarong and fastened it around her, wishing it was made of something impenetrable, like steel. The thin silk wasn’t any kind of barrier against Drew’s potent touch. All he had to do was brush against her and her pituitary gland sent an overdose of oxytocin into her bloodstream – making her stupid.
He’d risen to his full height, still magnificently naked, and semi-aroused now that he’d removed the condom. Maybe there was more than oxytocin at work here. She had to concentrate to keep her feet from moving toward him. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. “You know, it’s the hormone that makes us trusting, makes us want to cuddle.”
His lips inched up at the corners. “Oh? And you think I’m under the influence of this, cuddle hormone?”
“Yes, I do,” she stated. Think. Put this in prospective. “It’s released by touching, and during sex.”
“Really,” it wasn’t a question or a statement. “And are you too under the influence?”
Bree nodded. “Yes, I am. That’s why I’m leaving.” It was a ridiculous statement since her feet were glued to the floor. Drew’s half smile had grown to a full-blown one. He took a step closer.
“Are you saying that my touch makes you trust me? It makes you want to cuddle with me?”
Oh, dear God. “It also makes me say things I shouldn’t – obviously. Or that could be the testosterone.”
He took another step toward her, and she could almost see the testosterone shimmering off his body. “Testosterone?”
“Uhm…yes. It increases in women when they’re sexually aroused.” Stupid.
“And are you sexually aroused right now?”
“No,” she lied.
“As much as I’m enjoying this little Biology lesson, I’m much better with hands on experimentation.” He crooked his finger at her in an age-old signal. “Why don’t you come here and we’ll test out your theories – again.”
“No. No, I…can’t…I have to…go.”
A movement just out of her narrowed vision caught her attention, and her gaze flickered down. Drew’s cock stood at full attention and if she wasn’t mistaken, it grew under her gaze. Her legs trembled enough to shake her feet loose from the floor. She bolted for the door and came up short when it wouldn’t open.
Damn. Locked. She hadn’t heard him move. He stood behind her, not touching, except for his hot breath near her ear. One arm reached out and punched in a code. The opaque glass doors slid open and she ran as fast as her wobbly legs could carry her.
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