hungry look in his eyes tugged at
her.
“Don’ you want to play with us?” Dag pulled
her hand away from Rafer, pressing his mouth against her palm. His
tongue tasted her, and she felt an answering spasm deep in her
womb. His eyes flared as if he knew about that secret arousal.
“Lark Andrews.” He crooned her name like it was a secret code he’d
just unraveled. Part of her knew she should have been concerned.
She hadn’t given him her name, and yet he knew her.
“I don’t do this kind of thing.”
“But you could.” Rafer eyed her steadily. “If
you wanted to. There’s nothin’ wrong with a little touchin’. A
little pleasure. And we could give you a lot of pleasure, chère . Bring those fantasies of yours to life.”
She stared down at the male forearm holding
her so close, impossibly tempted.
Dag smiled slowly. “We’ll make it good. We’ll
be just the littlest bit naughty.”
There was no misunderstanding the sensual
hunger on his face, filling his eyes—or the answering chord that
hunger plucked deep inside her. She’d been so very, very lonely.
Yes, she decided, relaxing her body against the man who held her. Rafer . He smelled delicious, so for one long moment she
stretched against him.
He was hard and erect, but when she moved, he
froze. As if he was afraid he’d frighten her, when all she wanted
to do was reach around and wrap her fingers around him. Explore
every delicious inch of him.
Rafer was a fantasy man, and damned if she
didn’t deserve a taste of something sweet. It was night, she was
lonely and out here in the dark of the Louisiana headlands, the
bayou’s black magic surged and pulled at her. There had to be a
reason—other than the blue moon—why she wanted a wolf pack and one
hell of a sexual game, but right now all she wanted was sex with
Rafer Breaux. Her desire was a secret, pounding heartbeat between
her legs.
“Yes,” she said. The erection tucked against
her ass surged, grew longer. She wriggled, testing to see what he
would do. What he would let her do.
Anything, apparently, because the hands on
her hips tilted her, positioned her for the hard, sure stroke
parting her ass through the worn denim of her jeans.
“ Bien ,” Luc rasped. “We take her home
with us.”
She didn’t protest as Rafer swung her up into
his arms and carried her to the waiting boat. He was taking her
somewhere she wanted to go. The Breaux brothers ran their boat up
the bayou, gunning the motor over the night-black waterways in an
exhilarating ride. Rafer cradled her on his lap, wrapped her tight
in his arms, but that was all. He didn’t touch her further. Damn
him, he made her wait, and that deliciously unfamiliar erotic
tension built again, part anticipation and part fantasy.
An alligator hit the water with a
gunshot-sharp splash off the starboard side, and she squirmed on
his lap.
His cock pressed back at her behind the
sun-faded cargo pants.
She wanted.
Wanted the man holding her to lower her to
his bed, take her hard and fast. Or slow. She’d never been so aware
of her own arousal. Of the heated fantasies in her head. Rafer was
solid and large, the feel of him feeding the need building inside
her.
Join the Newsletter !
Want to be the first to learn about new
releases and get access to special sneak peeks? Join the newsletter
at http://ymlp.com/signup.php?id=geumewqgmgb
About the Author
Heated romance. Hot heroes. Happily ever
after. I’m the nationally best-selling author of paranormal and
contemporary romance. My books have been named finalists twice for
the Readers Crown.
I’m a Northern California transplant from
snowy Vermont who loves good books, Cheetos and working in the
garden. Find more information about my books (including excerpts)
at: www.anne-marsh.com or on my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anne-Marsh/225897900782649 .
Or, come tweet with me at https://twitter.com/anne_marsh .
Booklist
Blue Moon Brides
TEMPTED BY THE PACK (Blue
her.
“Don’ you want to play with us?” Dag pulled
her hand away from Rafer, pressing his mouth against her palm. His
tongue tasted her, and she felt an answering spasm deep in her
womb. His eyes flared as if he knew about that secret arousal.
“Lark Andrews.” He crooned her name like it was a secret code he’d
just unraveled. Part of her knew she should have been concerned.
She hadn’t given him her name, and yet he knew her.
“I don’t do this kind of thing.”
“But you could.” Rafer eyed her steadily. “If
you wanted to. There’s nothin’ wrong with a little touchin’. A
little pleasure. And we could give you a lot of pleasure, chère . Bring those fantasies of yours to life.”
She stared down at the male forearm holding
her so close, impossibly tempted.
Dag smiled slowly. “We’ll make it good. We’ll
be just the littlest bit naughty.”
There was no misunderstanding the sensual
hunger on his face, filling his eyes—or the answering chord that
hunger plucked deep inside her. She’d been so very, very lonely.
Yes, she decided, relaxing her body against the man who held her. Rafer . He smelled delicious, so for one long moment she
stretched against him.
He was hard and erect, but when she moved, he
froze. As if he was afraid he’d frighten her, when all she wanted
to do was reach around and wrap her fingers around him. Explore
every delicious inch of him.
Rafer was a fantasy man, and damned if she
didn’t deserve a taste of something sweet. It was night, she was
lonely and out here in the dark of the Louisiana headlands, the
bayou’s black magic surged and pulled at her. There had to be a
reason—other than the blue moon—why she wanted a wolf pack and one
hell of a sexual game, but right now all she wanted was sex with
Rafer Breaux. Her desire was a secret, pounding heartbeat between
her legs.
“Yes,” she said. The erection tucked against
her ass surged, grew longer. She wriggled, testing to see what he
would do. What he would let her do.
Anything, apparently, because the hands on
her hips tilted her, positioned her for the hard, sure stroke
parting her ass through the worn denim of her jeans.
“ Bien ,” Luc rasped. “We take her home
with us.”
She didn’t protest as Rafer swung her up into
his arms and carried her to the waiting boat. He was taking her
somewhere she wanted to go. The Breaux brothers ran their boat up
the bayou, gunning the motor over the night-black waterways in an
exhilarating ride. Rafer cradled her on his lap, wrapped her tight
in his arms, but that was all. He didn’t touch her further. Damn
him, he made her wait, and that deliciously unfamiliar erotic
tension built again, part anticipation and part fantasy.
An alligator hit the water with a
gunshot-sharp splash off the starboard side, and she squirmed on
his lap.
His cock pressed back at her behind the
sun-faded cargo pants.
She wanted.
Wanted the man holding her to lower her to
his bed, take her hard and fast. Or slow. She’d never been so aware
of her own arousal. Of the heated fantasies in her head. Rafer was
solid and large, the feel of him feeding the need building inside
her.
Join the Newsletter !
Want to be the first to learn about new
releases and get access to special sneak peeks? Join the newsletter
at http://ymlp.com/signup.php?id=geumewqgmgb
About the Author
Heated romance. Hot heroes. Happily ever
after. I’m the nationally best-selling author of paranormal and
contemporary romance. My books have been named finalists twice for
the Readers Crown.
I’m a Northern California transplant from
snowy Vermont who loves good books, Cheetos and working in the
garden. Find more information about my books (including excerpts)
at: www.anne-marsh.com or on my Facebook page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Anne-Marsh/225897900782649 .
Or, come tweet with me at https://twitter.com/anne_marsh .
Booklist
Blue Moon Brides
TEMPTED BY THE PACK (Blue
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