Here are 7 sexy paragraphs of my latest novel Evermore Descendants of Ra book 3. Emeline doesn’t want to get addicted to Avery. But it is a losing battle.
Emeline always sucked as a sifter, but she counted the deficiency as a plus. Who wanted to wear gloves the rest of their life to avoid random contact and the transfer of unwanted emotions? Occasionally in the heat of passion, she had caught a few emotional threads: horny, macho guy speak about how great he was.
Yeah, she had lousy taste in men. With Avery, everything was different. He touched a place inside her heart she’d never known existed. Palm to palm, her skin tingled where they touched. The pain in her side faded and his fragmented thoughts filled her head. Worry mixed with desire which warped into lurid images, tantalizing in detail, then dipped into a deep well of hurt all centered on her. She’d done this.
Except for brief splashes of streetlight, the back of the dim cab kept his features shadowed. Not his desires. Those flowed through him and into her. Her nipples tightened and her body hungered. She caught glimpses of his green and black eyes. Their intensity didn’t startle her. The corresponding heat surfing her blood and the receding pain, did.
Had he leaned closer? Or had common sense completely taken a vacation and she’d leaned in? His free hand touched her cheek. This was the last thing she needed. So why didn’t she pull away when his lips slanted urgently over hers?
Shutting down the heat between them—closing the door on any chance of them being together—that’s what she should be doing, not inching her way closer to disaster. Not dying for another taste of him. Not aching for him to take her in his arms, stripping her down to her marrow and take her any way, every way he wanted.
He kissed her as if this was the last kiss they would ever have, using lips, teeth, and tongue to hammer her resistance into biddable acceptance. He kissed her until all she knew was that she was a woman and he was a hot, hard man. And all hers—if she was woman enough to reach out and take him.
The car stopped. “We’re here.” The driver said. The spell broke. She yanked her lips and her hand away. Pain flared, bright and awful. Somehow, she managed to open the door and climb out of the car without becoming a part of the pavement while he paid the fare. Getting away, far away from everything she wanted seemed like a brilliant idea.
There is no such thing as a chance meeting.
There’s no room in Avery Nicolis life for an obsession, yet why else does he stalk Emeline Gamble. Lurking in the shadows, he hungers for a woman he can’t have. Between the secrets he guards and anarchy roiling in his soul, his only solace are his glimpses of Emeline. He will resist her, protect her from himself, and deny his desire to claim her heart.
Emeline Gamble was a Watcher for the Order—a secret society of women charged with monitoring the offspring of the gods. For months, she observed Avery Nicolis, an elite mercenary, Descendant of Ra, and enemy of the Order. Never knowing he had her in his crosshairs.
Trapped in a lie, Emeline is forced to accept Avery as her bodyguard. Compelled to spend time with him, she learns to care for his tortured soul and see the hero lurking beneath the assassin’s façade.
But every word out of her mouth is a lie. Every action a betrayal. Because to save her family she is forced to accept a new assignment, deliver Avery Nicolis to the Goddess of Chaos, alive…
And do not fall in love with him.
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