the rest of you taste like?”
She shivered at the erotic comment—the promise he was going to find out. He kissed her again. Crazy-wild, hot-kissed her, and she loved every second of it. Loved his tongue, his lips, and his hands sliding through her hair, over her face.
Becca ran her fingers through his thick, blond hair. She loved his hair—a little wild like him. Hot like him too. With each stroke of his tongue, each touch of his lips, she felt liberated.
Her palms traveled over his chest—warm, hard muscle, her reward. She was extremely, intensely interested in those muscles, like the best science project in the world that had to be studied. She explored his arms, his biceps, how they felt beneath her palms. Inching forward in her chair, she arched into him, for research purposes, of course. To explore how he would feel pressed close to her. Her breasts ached for his touch, her nipples tight and swollen, in need of his mouth. God. Had she really just had that brazen thought? She was a good girl; she always had been.
His hands slid over her breasts, fingers teased the stiff peaks of her nipples. Her hands covered his, silently telling him she wanted more, because she couldn’t ask or demand. Because she was still that “good girl” at heart and couldn’t seem to let it go.
But she didn’t want to be a good girl. If anyone knew the meaning of “life is short,” she did. Becca ran her lips over his jaw, hid her face in his neck, and nibbled as she said, “You know what I want?”
He slid his hands around her waist. “If you say Chinese food, I’m going to object.”
“ I’ll give you a choice then,” she said, feeling braver with his jest. “Feed me, or take off your clothes.”
“ I’m all for getting naked, if you are,” he quickly agreed.
“ You first,” she bargained.
And while the idea of standing in front of him naked, him fully clothed, would make her feel vulnerable, exposed, it apparently had none of those effects on him.
“ Okay,” he said, unaffected by the idea as he pushed to his feet and started undressing. And only seconds later, he stood there in all his naked glory, and she sat there, fully clothed.
Sterling uses humor and flippant remarks to mask those wounds so I thought I'd share a few fun “STERLINGISMS” as I call them.
"We Renegades write our own rules. The good, bendable kind that let me kick your ass all over the curb and then do it again just for fun.”
****
After being punched -- "Feels Good"
****
“ You don’t know the meaning of ‘wait,’
do you?” Caleb asked.
Sterling grinned. “You wouldn’t love me if I did.”
****
“ I’ll be taking that vial of ICE you got there in your pocket. Then you can mosey on along and take the rest of your lifetime on vacation. You know, do whatever retired drug dealers do. Play the casino tables. Watch SpongeBob for all I care. Just get the hell off my streets.”
****
“ You’re the suit-wearing, talk-down-to-you, and then bust-your-wallet-in-the-balls, kind of asshole. I’m the dirty-boxing, back-alley kind of asshole.”
***
Sterling’s lips twisted with a wry taunt. “The next two bullets won’t hit the ground. Think of all those little bones in your feet blasted away by the steel force of a bullet.” He shook his head. “Ouch. That hurts just thinking about it. Even on an ICE high, that’s gonna bite like a bitch. After that, we’ll move upwards.” He pointed the gun at Mohawk’s knee. Then his thigh. Then shoved the gun toward his crotch. “About midway up is where all the fun starts. If I blow it off, will ICE grow it back? Wanna find out?”
***
Visit me at www.lisareneejones.com for updates and fun contests and reader events!
Thank you for spending time with one of my books!
Lisa
She shivered at the erotic comment—the promise he was going to find out. He kissed her again. Crazy-wild, hot-kissed her, and she loved every second of it. Loved his tongue, his lips, and his hands sliding through her hair, over her face.
Becca ran her fingers through his thick, blond hair. She loved his hair—a little wild like him. Hot like him too. With each stroke of his tongue, each touch of his lips, she felt liberated.
Her palms traveled over his chest—warm, hard muscle, her reward. She was extremely, intensely interested in those muscles, like the best science project in the world that had to be studied. She explored his arms, his biceps, how they felt beneath her palms. Inching forward in her chair, she arched into him, for research purposes, of course. To explore how he would feel pressed close to her. Her breasts ached for his touch, her nipples tight and swollen, in need of his mouth. God. Had she really just had that brazen thought? She was a good girl; she always had been.
His hands slid over her breasts, fingers teased the stiff peaks of her nipples. Her hands covered his, silently telling him she wanted more, because she couldn’t ask or demand. Because she was still that “good girl” at heart and couldn’t seem to let it go.
But she didn’t want to be a good girl. If anyone knew the meaning of “life is short,” she did. Becca ran her lips over his jaw, hid her face in his neck, and nibbled as she said, “You know what I want?”
He slid his hands around her waist. “If you say Chinese food, I’m going to object.”
“ I’ll give you a choice then,” she said, feeling braver with his jest. “Feed me, or take off your clothes.”
“ I’m all for getting naked, if you are,” he quickly agreed.
“ You first,” she bargained.
And while the idea of standing in front of him naked, him fully clothed, would make her feel vulnerable, exposed, it apparently had none of those effects on him.
“ Okay,” he said, unaffected by the idea as he pushed to his feet and started undressing. And only seconds later, he stood there in all his naked glory, and she sat there, fully clothed.
Sterling uses humor and flippant remarks to mask those wounds so I thought I'd share a few fun “STERLINGISMS” as I call them.
"We Renegades write our own rules. The good, bendable kind that let me kick your ass all over the curb and then do it again just for fun.”
****
After being punched -- "Feels Good"
****
“ You don’t know the meaning of ‘wait,’
do you?” Caleb asked.
Sterling grinned. “You wouldn’t love me if I did.”
****
“ I’ll be taking that vial of ICE you got there in your pocket. Then you can mosey on along and take the rest of your lifetime on vacation. You know, do whatever retired drug dealers do. Play the casino tables. Watch SpongeBob for all I care. Just get the hell off my streets.”
****
“ You’re the suit-wearing, talk-down-to-you, and then bust-your-wallet-in-the-balls, kind of asshole. I’m the dirty-boxing, back-alley kind of asshole.”
***
Sterling’s lips twisted with a wry taunt. “The next two bullets won’t hit the ground. Think of all those little bones in your feet blasted away by the steel force of a bullet.” He shook his head. “Ouch. That hurts just thinking about it. Even on an ICE high, that’s gonna bite like a bitch. After that, we’ll move upwards.” He pointed the gun at Mohawk’s knee. Then his thigh. Then shoved the gun toward his crotch. “About midway up is where all the fun starts. If I blow it off, will ICE grow it back? Wanna find out?”
***
Visit me at www.lisareneejones.com for updates and fun contests and reader events!
Thank you for spending time with one of my books!
Lisa
Similar Books
