The third story in our Game Play series is out now.
Each of these stories are stand alone but with characters from the first book
Sea Games.
I hope you will enjoy this new release.
I have one copy to give away of one book of your choice in the series for a comment chosen at random.
If you can't comment then email me :-)
Winner is Toni Kelly- congratulations :-)
Buy link
Insecure Karin Orth agrees to an erotic seafaring vacation with her fiancé in the hope they can reduce the growing list of problems in their troubled relationship. Unfortunately, the bevy of gorgeous, slender women onboard the Brazilian-based schooner only serves to shrivel her confidence further. Her fiancé’s sudden obsession with threesomes and foursomes doesn’t float her boat either.
Smuggler, thief, and pirate Miguel Arelo is a dangerous man. Few know he upholds the ancient tribal beliefs of gods and goddesses. The moment he lays eyes on the voluptuous Karin Orth, he is convinced the gods have bequeathed him a treasure beyond imagination. Now, all he has to do is claim his prize. The fact she isn’t interested in him is a small matter a simple midnight kidnapping can resolve. Well, that and an Incan altar of decadent, sexual torment secreted deep in the Amazon rainforest. And ropes…
Excerpt
Chapter 1
The rusty Ford four-door cleverly disguised as a cab by the addition of magnetic TAXI signs on the front doors clanked to a stop. Karin Orth massaged the small of her back. If the driver had thought to add springs under or behind the molded fiberglass backseat, the ride from the spider-infested hotel to the docks might have been almost tolerable. She pressed a hand to the dull ache in her forehead from the exhaust fumes.
So far, the planned so-called “erotic” vacation in Sao Conrado, Rio de Janeiro’s affluent southern district, sucked dingle berries.
“Is that her?” Jerry asked for the fourth time since the moored tri-mast schooner, the
Patrice, had come into view. “She looks heavier in person if it is. Still, damn. She’s fucking hot. Seriously. Do you think that’s her?”
Irritation prickled up Karin’s spine. She turned her back and gazed at a seagull pecking at a shell. Why should she drool over the large boat or lower herself to look at the woman her fiancé had been fantasizing about ever since they booked their reservations on Bowers’ Bountiful Excursions? This trip was supposed to be a three day, two night sex fest on the open seas with her fiancé.
“I don’t know. Go ask her.” She glared over the front seat at the driver’s head. “Are you going to open the door at least?”
He reached under the dashboard. A latch clicked behind her, and the trunk lid lifted.
“Great. Thanks for the outstanding service.”
“I think that’s really Patrice Lampton. Come on. Let’s go meet her.” Jerry threw open the door and leaped out.
Karin scowled at him from under her lashes as he scurried to the trunk.
She dropped her voice to a whisper. “Don’t you mean, let’s go see if you can fuck her?”
Bags in hand—his bags—Jerry jogged toward the wooden pier without a backward glance.
“Gawd.” Disillusioned, she stared after him. “Forgot about me already?”
A squeal of rusty hinges signaled her door had opened.
“O que diabos está errado com você?” The satiny voice swept over her shoulder and across her skin, eliciting goose pimples on her bare arms.
The driver raised a fist without turning around in his seat. “Vá se foder sua mãe.”
“Excuse his bad manners. Please, may I help you from the car, bela senhora?”
Another tip groveler. Karin scowled and pivoted to meet … eyes with the sheen and hue of polished walnut roofed with thick black brows. Waves of black hair enhanced the sautéed apple peel tone of his skin. Her stomach flipped, every hormone stood to attention. She fought for a reply. He leaned his impressive body into the car, causing his unbuttoned, long-sleeved, white shirt to hang open. She gazed at an unimpaired view of a solid chest covered in a thin layer of tightly curled hairs. Little caramel nipples poked through the fur layer. Her belly quivered with the need to circle her tongue over his flat buds. What is wrong with me?
As if he had read her mind, he tilted his dark head and took a step back. With his crotch positioned smack dab in the middle of her gaze, he offered her his browned hand. The better than average bulge in his black slacks commanded her attention. Her cheeks caught fire.
Forcing her eyes to stare at the door, she tried to speak, but the words jumbled in her throat.
“Allow me.” He gripped her hand with the gentleness of a lover in the moonlight.
“I-I.” She gulped. “I’m engaged.”
He lightly pulled her from the car. The corners of sun ripened lips curled. “Congratulations. I hope he understands the treasure a beautiful woman’s heart truly is.”
She stood a breath away from him, inhaling a mix of exotic spicy fragrances that sent shivers of awareness to every nerve ending. Then his words crashed down on her brain. Beautiful woman. She gave herself a mental shake. He wasn’t anything more than a hustler after a tip, because no one had ever referred to Karin as beautiful. Chubby, fat, homely … yeah. And the ultimate insult, a great personality. She tromped to the trunk. Before she could grab her suitcase and shoulder bag, the man had them clasped in his grip.
Whatever. She whirled and headed for the schooner. Two couples, one in their fifties at least, the other in their early thirties like Jerry and her, quickstepped to the wooden pier. Wheeled luggage hummed over the boards.
Karin turned to the man beside her. “What did you say to the cab driver?”
“I admonished him for not taking proper care of your requirements.”
“Right.” She scoffed. “That’s why he raised his fist at you.”
“Yes. I will have a conversation with him about that. A gentleman should always be a gentleman in the presence of a lady.”
She chuckled at his incessant nonsense clearly designed to finagle a larger tip out of her.
To Karin’s disgust, Jerry didn’t even glance up from his intense conversation with Patrice Lampton, stunning in denim cutoffs and a red plaid shirt knotted above her navel. The one-time darling of the tabloids, Patrice had obviously put on some weight since she disappeared from the public’s microscope. Karin sneered. The bitch had gone from runway model stick figure to Marilyn Monroe curvaceous. Wouldn’t you know that on Patrice, a few added pounds looked good. The couples ahead of Karin stopped. With a smile Karin would die for, Patrice struck a pen tip on a clipboard.
“Welcome aboard. Mr. and Mrs. Carlson, you’re in cabin three. Mr. and Mrs. Hanes, cabin fifteen. Dazz is waiting on deck to direct you.” The couples gingerly made their way across a wooden gangway festooned with a knotted rope handhold.
“I’m Karin Orth.”
“Ah.” Patrice nodded and angled her head toward Jerry. “Then this belongs to you.”
“Oh, hi, honey.” Jerry had finally noticed Karin’s arrival. “Patrice is great. She said I can call her Patrice.”
“Wonderful.” Karin forced her grimace into a smile. She turned to take her bags from the man who’d followed her.
He slipped past her and handed them to Jerry, who stared at him dumbfounded.
“Guard your fortune well, my friend,” the stranger growled. “Pirates have roamed these waters for centuries, willing to kill for treasure not half as valuable as that which you possess.”
Jerry flared a nostril and staggered under his increased load to the ramp, a full two steps away.
Karin dug a ten from the pocket of her shorts. “You’re smooth, I’ll say that for you. I only have dollars.”
The man closed her hand around the bill. “The memory of your company is all Miguel Arelo requires, bela senhora.” He bowed at the waist and pressed a kiss to her wrist.
Fireflies flittered up her arm. She jerked out of his grasp. The touch of his lips lingered on her skin. His delectable mouth bowed into a smile that shot delicious sensations straight to her core.
Jerry stood wide eyed and face flushed on the deck. “Hey, Patrice, maybe we could get together for a drink later?”
Karin snapped back to her reality. “Give it a rest, Jerry.”
His eyes narrowed. “We’ll discuss this in our room.”
“Cabin one,” Patrice said. “Dazz—”
“Yeah, yeah, some guy named Dazz will direct us. I got it.” Karin sucked in a breath and traipsed over the springy ramp to begin her three day ocean journey into the erotic with her fiancé whose mission in life now seemed to center around banging the hostess.
And to think I lost two inches off my waistline for this shit.
*
Miguel embraced every movement of the magnificent woman’s walk, the way her hips rolled, the brush of her thick thighs, and the fleshy, pillow ass.
“What are you doing here, Miguel?” Patrice hugged the clipboard.
“Who is she?”
“Karin Orth and her fiancé, Jerry Miller.” Patrice raised a brow. “Did I mention he’s her fiancé?”
Jerry handed Karin her bags. The duo disappeared through the doorway leading to the lower berth deck.
“Her man is a pig.”
“Can’t argue with that.” Patrice grimaced. “The scumbag propositioned me twice before you two got here.”
The thought of Jerry’s fingers entwined in Karin’s sun blonde hair while the asshole pounded his cock into the artistically curved goddess roiled in his gut.
“That doesn’t explain what you want.”
Miguel willed the exquisite woman from his concentration. “I need to speak to Brian.”
“You do realize we’re about to set sail, right?”
“I will only be a minute.”
“Forward hatch. We’re having trouble with the pump for the toilets again.”
“Eh?” He lowered his brow. “I offered to bring you a new one.”
“You offered to steal us one.”
He shrugged at her inconvenient ethics. “New is new. What does the origin matter?”
Footsteps clattered on the dock’s planks.
“This should be the Johnsons, so you better hurry if you want to talk to Brian. They’re the last couple. Once Dazz gives the formal greeting, we’ll be shoving off.”
Miguel trotted across the gangplank and along the teak deck to the open wooden hatch. In the compartment, Brian Bowers cursed at his iron nemesis.
“I can have a replacement in three days. Just say the word, my friend.”
Ball peen hammer in hand, Brian glanced upward. “We’re getting ready to sail. What do you want, Miguel?”
“I came to reserve my half day on the water you owe me.”
Brian shook his head. “I’m a little busy at the moment. How about calling me when we get back from this trip?”
“I have changed my mind. I no longer want that half day.”
“Really? Why?”
“Something else has captured my interest.”
Brian squatted next to the pump, adjusting a knob. “I’ve told you before I won’t allow you to use the Patrice for your smuggling.”
Miguel slapped a palm on his chest. “You wound me, my friend, with your belief that I would engage in such activity.”
“Knock off the bullshit. You’re a thief. It’s what you do. What the hell do you want if you’ve changed your mind about me taking you out on the ocean?”
“A day and night with Karin Orth.”
Don't forget to leave your email address :-)
HC
