This is my fifth and final post for The Romance Studio’s End of Summer Bash! What fun it’s been reading excerpts and responding to your comments and questions.
Here’s a sneak preview of Prymal Obsession:
Brut didn’t bother to get up when Bandit climbed off the roof. He finished his beer, tossed the empty bottle into the enormous dumpster standing in the alley behind The Grape, and climbed down to the second floor.
After grabbing his duffel bag from the room opposite Sidonie’s, he ambled to her door, and stood listening, scenting.
The balmy steam from the shower lingered in the air. He identified the citrus-perfumed shampoo she favored, a hint of baby oil, and a dollop of a man-made fragrance with a trace of pungent patchouli, all three odors topped by eau de Sidonie. His tongue thickened. He thirsted to taste her. Had become obsessed with the notion of nosing and licking every inch of her sweet flesh.
He knocked on the door. “Sidonie?”
The solid panel didn’t block sound from his superlative hearing. He identified a muted clatter as that of plastic closet hangers clacking together.
When Sidonie held her breath, he listened for the return of her rhythmic inhaling.
He had been hard as granite for most of the fucking miserable day. He’d managed to will his erection flaccid after their early morning encounter at the ranch, but that almost kiss in the truck had wrenched the beast in him full frontal.
The clicking of her pointy heels on the tiled floor had his imagination surging into max overdrive. She had donned her customary stilettoes. He hated she wore those CFM shoes, mouthwatering sex-kitten short skirts, and skimpy tanks in public. Became enraged when he caught Kydd Kolton ogling the cleavage she revealed.
The door opened, Sid widened the gap, and waved him in.
He threw the oversize gym bag over one shoulder, stepped into the room, pivoted, and inspected her clothing and makeup.
She had assumed a new veneer.
An understated sultry Sidonie had replaced the in-your-face tramp of previous encounters.
He liked the way she’d caught her curls into a loose knot on top of her head. Wisps escaped the confining bun and emphasized her delicate features and her heart-shaped face. The heavy black eyeliner had been swapped for smudges of smoky gray, which served only to enhance the piercing blue of her eyes. Not a hint of color dusted her cheeks. The thick foundation she normally used was absent. He noted a charming spray of freckles scattered across her nose. Instead of scarlet or fuchsia lipstick, she wore some sort of plain gloss.
This Sidonie didn’t scream for male attention, and he liked her all the more for the new subtlety.
“We need to talk.” He chucked the duffel to the long, fussy bench women always seemed to have at the foot of their beds.
The skirt of the lilac dress she wore fluttered around her trim calves when she twirled to face him. He approved of the demure neckline, the cap sleeves, the length of the dress, and, most of all, the two-inch pointy heels on her black, strappy shoes. Better than her customary six inches, which always had him tense, and awaiting a sprained ankle, or a concussion from a fall.
“If it’s about our scheduled fucking tonight, let me set your mind at ease. I know your deal. You had a mate. Your kind has one in a lifetime. Whatever happens between us is temporary. As soon as this…this situation is resolved, we’re done.” She met his gaze without a flinch or a fidget.
Brut stifled a wince. Did she have to put it so baldly? And did she believe for a fucking moment she’d set the terms of their relationship? Or dictate when their fucking would end? The woman had a way of provoking his vexation. He battened down his rising ire. “Good to know you understand the situation.”
Her nose twitched. “Anything else we need to talk about?”
“Yes. As of this moment, we’re a couple. To the world at large, I’m overprotective and jealous. That gives me an excuse to hover and always be around. In addition to our fucking, we’ll do everything together. You defer to me if there’s any sign of something out of the ordinary. Understood?”
Brut pulled his T-shirt over his head and when he emerged from the brief concealment found her gawking at the tattoos on his shoulders and biceps. From her stunned dropped-jaw expression, he didn’t believe she’d listened to or digested his barked orders.
Her features softened and Brut recognized the one emotion he detested above all others, pity.
“One for each butchered pack member,” she whispered and inched forward to stand right in front of him. “How many in all?”
Brut flinched. He should’ve anticipated that Tania and Eva would tell Sid about his symbolic immortalization of his mate and pack’s slaughter. “Seven. My pack was newly formed.”
Slight puffs of her exhales skipped across his ribs. She tipped her head back, and he read her sympathy in the moisture glistening in her eyes. “I am deeply sorry for your loss. It must be a constant dagger in your heart.”
No one had ever described his lancing pain of bereavement so accurately. A silence, leaded with tension and regret, rippled around them.
She averted her gaze, clasped her hands together at her waist, and muttered to the floor at large, “I’ll see you downstairs. In case you’re interested, we’re doing a tasting of selected tapas in ten minutes.”
He didn’t move when she spun around and walked briskly out of the room.
Brut collapsed on the bench and scrubbed his stubbled jaw. Somehow her heartfelt offer of condolences had eased the insistent stabbing grief he’d lived with for over a year and a half.
Guilt attacked him.
Since meeting Sidonie, his previous hell-bent focus on revenge had slipped on a regular basis. Too often in the last while he’d found himself replaying some witty comment she’d made or smiling at one of her corny jokes.
A near insomniac since the butchery of his mate and pack, he lay in bed at night fantasizing, but not about the slow torture of those responsible for their murder. No, instead he pictured Sidonie naked under him, imagined the look of utter pleasure on her face when he brought her to climax.
He couldn’t allow her to slip under his defenses, to interfere with his planned vengeance. Once he’d had her, once he’d fucked her senseless, then his Sidonie-obsession would abate.
Prymal Lust is now available at the following booksellers:
All Romance eBooks (ARe): http://bit.ly/1nuaBvv
Barnes and Noble: http://bit.ly/1nuaJee
Taliesin Publishing: http://bit.ly/1nuaTlS
Here are the Prymal Lust Contest details:
PRIZE: eCopy of Prymal Lust
HOW TO ENTER THE PRYMAL LUST CONTEST:
Answer the question at the end of each of my posts and leave your email address in the comment.
Question #5: How many tattoos does Brut, the hero of Prymal Obsession have?
My thanks to everyone who participated, authors, readers, and those wonderful folks at The Romance Studio who keep the site and the party running smoothly. It was lovely to spend this time with you all.
Take care on the roads out there and enjoy the rest of the summer!
P.S. Here’s one more look at the awesome Prymal Lust trailier: