Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Juniper Bell: Training the Receptionist


Genre: Erotica
Publisher: Samhain Publishing
ISBN: 978-1-60504-949-6
Length: Novella
Price: 3.50
Publication Date: March 2, 2010
Cover art by Scott Carpenter
Buy the book from Samhain's My Bookstore and More

It’s her naughty dream job—if they’re satisfied with her performance…

Eager to escape her miserable existence in Low-Life, Long Island, street-wise Dana Arthur jumps at an entry-level position with the consulting firm Cowell & Dirk. As her training period begins, she quickly discovers she’s required to do more than take messages and order office supplies. Her job description contains some deliciously naughty duties that give receptionist a whole new meaning.

Simon has almost given up on finding the right woman who will please his clients as well as his demanding partner and mentor, Ethan Cowell. No one measures up—until Dana. Her inner fire and fearless nature are perfect for the job. No matter what wicked punishment he devises to chastise her for her on-the-job mistakes, she accepts with a relish that leaves him wondering which one of them is really in control.

The last thing he expects to discover is that she’s a perfect sexual soul mate he can’t bear to share. But share he must—it’s part of his business agreement. Unless he makes Ethan the deal of a lifetime…

Warning: This title contains explicit sex, bondage, ménage, ingenious use of office furniture, lingerie, and the occasional sex toy. Oh, and did I mention the package delivery guy?


 Training the Receptionist 
by Juniper Bell


Simon stood at the wall-to-ceiling picture window that looked out over the depressing downtown. His jacket was off, hands in his pockets. I stopped just inside the door. When I closed it behind me, I felt a strange sense of safety. As if anything could happen inside this beige space and it would be okay.

“You can take off your jacket now,” he said without turning around.

My heart seemed to jump into my throat. Every nerve ending in my body stood at attention. I opened my mouth to say something snappy, but nothing came out. Instead, I slid one arm out of my jacket, then the other. Not sure what to do with it, I dropped it to the floor.

“Good. Now you can put your hands on your nipples.”

I didn’t move. I wasn’t sure I’d heard right. Besides, my heart was beating too fast. There was a long pause while we both stood still, me looking at his back, him looking out the window. Finally, he turned and gave me a mild stare.

“You’re not touching your nipples.”

I cleared my throat. “No.”

“I would imagine they’re in need of some contact right now. How do they feel? Aroused? Irritated?” His expression was one of concerned interest.

He had a point. “Like I want to jump out of my skin,” I admitted.

“Ah, I thought so. That’s why I suggested touching them. I certainly wouldn’t want you to jump out of that beautiful skin. Would you like to try it now?”

In the back of my mind, I wondered why we were talking about my nipples rather than proper phone procedure, or some other job-related issue. But his green eyes flicked over my body, scattering sparks of heat wherever they went, and before I knew it my hands rose to my tits. I put my fingers around my nipples. The heat of them surprised me. My poor nipples were burning up under there. How had he known it was exactly what I needed, to touch myself like that?

“Tighter,” came Simon’s soft, almost hypnotic voice.

I pressed tighter and felt the texture of the lace dig into my flesh. My breath caught and my face flushed. A jolt of heat zinged on a straight line from my nipples to my insides. Moisture sprang between my legs. Startled by my body’s reaction, I snatched my hands away from my nipples.

“Did I ask you to stop?” Simon sounded disappointed. Reproving. My hands jumped back to my breasts. “No, stop,” he said.

I stopped, hands hovering a few inches away from my breasts.

“I want to see what you look like now. Unbutton your blouse.”

What the F? Was my brand-new boss really telling me to undo my blouse? And was I really on fire to do whatever he said? It kills me to admit it, but I couldn’t disobey him. Didn’t want to. He was leading me somewhere with that sexy voice. Somewhere I’d never been. Somewhere I wanted to go. I unbuttoned my blouse and drew it off my shoulders. I dropped it onto the floor, on top of my jacket. The stuffy office air felt cool against my skin.

“Beautiful,” said Simon, a note of approval in his voice. “Exactly how I’d pictured it on you. But your hair’s all wrong. It should be piled on your head. Do it.”

That last phrase came out stronger, more like an order. Without thinking, I filled my hands with my hair and pulled it to the top of my head. It felt thick and silky against my hands. I’d never been quite so aware of the feel of my hair before.

Simon walked across the office with deliberate slowness. When he got to my side, he walked around me. From behind, I felt his finger touch lightly on the back of my neck.

“Fascinating tattoo.” He seemed to realize it was still tender back there, because he didn’t linger on the tattoo. Instead he traced his finger along the side of my neck, down the rounded front of my shoulder, into the crevice between my breasts, creating a trail of fire wherever he touched. Then he delved under the lace of the teddy. Unbearable excitement filled me as he lifted my nipple away from the fabric.

“Mm,” he said noncommittally as he examined my nipple. He reached around my back and brought the other one out of its nest. His body, strong and smelling of some kind of jet-set aftershave, pressed against me. In the office window, I saw our reflection. His intent face bent over my shoulder, his hands at my front, tugging at my nipples. Me in a provocative teddy and tight hobble skirt. The sight added to my excitement and I leaned back against him.

“You’ve had an interesting morning, haven’t you?” He murmured in my ear. “Look how these juicy little morsels swelled up. I bet that lace teased you hard, didn’t it? Rubbed up against you like a rough little kitten tongue. I thought about you all morning, thought about these breasts stirring under your blouse. Thought about how wet it must be making you. Thought about how your nipples would feel against my hands, all hard and excited and…”

A spasm shook my body. It shocked me. What was happening to me? It was as if he had suddenly acquired ownership of the body that had previously been mine. I was dancing to his tune, singing at his command.

He pulled my nipples again, hard, and again my body arched back against him. I felt his erection press against my ass. The thought that I’d given him that hard-on made me even more excited. I wanted him to ravage me with it. Grind it deep. I squirmed and panted, but he wouldn’t let me get closer to his cock.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Texas Tangle by Leah Braemel, Excerpt Two

 

This is a sneak peak of my upcoming erotic romance, Texas Tangle, that will be released this summer by Harlequin's Carina Press.


Thanks to her cheating ex-husband and her thieving brother, all horse breeder Nikki Kimball has left is a bruised heart, an over-drawn bank account and an empty home.  When sex-on-legs Dillon Barnett and his brooding foster-brother Brett Anderson start showing more than just neighborly attention, Nikki is intrigued…and a little gun-shy.
Dillon and Brett have a history; back in high school, the two friends fought a bitter battle over Nikki.  Now, ten years later, Brett still longs to be the man in Nikki’s life, but he’s determined to stand back and let Dillon win Nikki’s heart.
Society says Nikki must choose between the two men she loves. Is Nikki strong enough to break all the rules in order to find happiness?





Text Copyright © 2010 by Leah Braemel

Brett Anderson switched off the strobe lights and parked his squad car beside the others. The three units parked in front of Nikki’s, lights still flashing, highlighted the trim figure striding back and forth across the lawn, her arms wrapped about herself. Where the hell was Dillon, and why had he left Nikki alone?

He got out of the car and headed straight for her, ignoring the house for the moment. When he’d recognized the address blasted over the police radio, it had been all he could do not to abandon the accident site out on the highway. At least Tiny had been the first responder on scene and had kept him in the loop.

“Hey, Nik.”

Nikki’s head snapped up. “Brett!”

She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms about his waist. The fear that had caught him since he’d first heard the call relaxed as he closed his arms around her. “You okay, sweetie?”

“Yeah, it’s just…” She buried her face against his neck, her chest heaving as she struggled to maintain control. If he knew her, it wasn’t an effort to hold back tears but to contain her anger. “Everything I’ve got is gone.”

“I know, Nik. But it’s just stuff. At least you’re safe.” Tucking her head under his chin, he stroked her back, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. Despite the number of visits he’d made to her place over the years, only in his fantasies had he been able to hold her like this again.

They stood wrapped together for a few minutes, her breathing gradually calming down, her body softening against his. Brett memorized how she fit perfectly against him, taking the time to notice the tinier details like how her braid dangled halfway down her back. He fantasized about removing the elastic holding it in place and running his fingers through her hair, freeing it from its bindings. What would it be like to lie beneath her, to feel her hair cascade over his chest?

“Tiny thinks Phil took everything.” She tilted her head back to look at him, reminding him of the last time he’d held her in his arms. What would it be like to kiss her the way he had then?


Not now. Not yet. She’s been victimized. If you make your move now, you’ll never know if she’s turned to you because you represent safety or if she’s hot for you.

“I heard.” When he’d heard Tiny broadcast the B.O.L.O. on Phil, the tow truck drivers had saluted the curse he’d uttered. “We’ll find him. Don’t worry.”

“I don’t understand any of it.” She shook her head in confusion and looked toward the house.

Goddamn that lazy bastard. How they could be related was beyond his imagination. Then again, of all people, he knew how genes didn’t carry the best—or the worst—traits between family members. Thank God for small mercies. “Honey, there were no marks on the lock to show someone had broken in. There were no broken windows—”

“No,” she interrupted. “I understand why they think it was him, but what I don’t get is how he could have done this to me, his own sister. I took him in instead of making him live in a halfway house, or somewhere with strangers. There must be some other explanation.”

He cupped her cheek until she looked at him. “It’s not about you. To Phil, it’s about satisfying himself, no matter who he hurts.”

She leaned her cheek into his palm, her eyes closing. “What would I do without friends like you?”

Friends? Yeah, he’d tried to stay her friend. After he’d come back from college, it had hurt to see her in town with her husband, to be reminded of what he’d lost. A couple months later, he’d joined the Barnett County police and had discovered her husband receiving a blow job from town slut Patsy Schrader in the grocery store parking lot. It had just about killed him not to warn her that her husband was cheating. Same with the next time, when he’d caught them in flagrante dilecto in the back seat of Patsy’s van. Or the next.


Right after she’d finally kicked the sorry bastard out the year before, he figured he’d have another chance. But every time he’d checked on her since, she’d been oblivious to why he was visiting. Instead she’d announced she was determined to make it on her own and spurned all his help.

Maybe now they could pick up where they’d left off ten years before. He moved a half step closer, and she didn’t step away. Instead she continued to look up at him, her lips slightly parted. Inviting him to kiss her. He bent his head until the brim of his hat brushed the top of her head.

A throat cleared on the porch. “Hey, Anderson, you get that accident scene cleared up?”

Stifling a sigh, Brett pulled back. On the porch, Tiny rocked on his heels, one eyebrow raised. Shit. There went the professional rating on his next review. Then he saw Dillon standing in the shadows, arms folded across his chest.

Shitfuck.

When Dillon stepped into the light, he couldn’t miss his friend’s narrowed eyes. Nor could he miss the heat in them when they turned on Nikki. Shitfuckdamn.

You’ve been down this road before. Remember that fiasco? It’s Dillon’s chance with Nikki this time. Not that either of them had ended up with her back in high school, but he wasn’t prepared to lose Dillon or the Barnetts. Not again.

He dropped his arms from Nikki, and stepped back. “Hey, Dill. Nik, I gotta go help Tiny here. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”






Cover Art Copyright© 2010 by Harlequin Enterprises Limited
Permission to reproduce text granted by Harlequin Books S.A. Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved. © and ™ are trademarks owned by Harlequin Enterprises Limited or its affiliated companies, used under license.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Private Property by Leah Braemel, Excerpt Two

by Leah Braemel

ISBN: 978-1-60504-368-5
Length: Novella
Cover art by Natalie Winters


Warning: This book contains a woman fulfilling her sexual fantasies—including two men who are happy to tie her up, and be tied up, while using graphic language and floggers.


Jodi Tyler has loved and lost too many times to believe in happily ever after. That’s what makes her no-strings affair with her boss so perfect—his power in bed matches his respect for her independence. Still, when he surprises her with a ménage for her birthday, her secret thrill wars with a nagging thought: Why would he so casually share her with another man?

Even though Mark Rodriguez holds Jodi at arm’s length from his heart, her self-confidence is a turn-on he can’t resist. Inviting old college buddy and future business partner Sam into their bed for one night was supposed to set free her wildest fantasy. Instead he finds the tables turned, forced to watch while Sam brings her to the height of ecstasy.

Now, Mark’s not so sure he wants to share his treasure…
Buy your e-copy from Samhain's My Bookstore and More


Excerpt from Private Property
Copyright © 2009 by Leah Braemel
ISBN: 978-1-60504-368-5

Something about Sam’s explanation didn’t quite ring true. While she didn’t doubt the games they’d played in college, after all she already knew of Mark’s voyeuristic tendencies, there seemed to be a molten undercurrent between the two men. Not a macho my-dick-is-bigger-than-yours type game, but a quicksilver explosiveness from Mark, and though Sam tried to conceal it, an underlying wariness that she hadn’t sensed from him at the beginning of the night.

During the game, they’d seemed to work together with no animosity. So why had Sam felt it necessary to change the rules partway through? And was it Sam’s change that had Mark glowering? Or was he simply angry at the control Sam had taken by force?

Mark definitely didn’t like relinquishing control. After she’d suggested the little bondage game they’d enjoyed the week before, she’d expected that he would return the favor, let her tie him up and explore what it was like to be so completely in charge. But to her disappointment, and annoyance, he’d refused.

Is that was this was about? A “King of the Monkey bars” game between the two friends?

Men, she huffed. Fine, he wanted to play that type of game, she’d play right along. Wouldn’t hurt to take some control back from Mark after he’d manipulated this whole evening. Since he liked watching, she’d give him a show he’d never forget. With Sam’s assistance, of course. She wondered if Sam could wrestle Mark up onto the dais so she could use the flogger on his ass.

When she didn’t answer, Sam glanced over at her and smiled as he pocketed something. He walked toward them in an almost-predatory stalk.

“Hey, Mark, I think she likes the idea. Look at her tight little nipples, at how wide her pupils are. She’s so turned on she can’t even answer.” He tapped Jodi on the shoulder, interrupting her fantasies. “So what’s it going to be, sweet pea? We gonna have some more fun? Or are you gonna wimp out and call it a night? It’s your decision.”

His quiet question allowed the last of her concerns about Sam to float away like a feather in a breeze. He had no intention of harming her or keeping her captive. Just as Mark had originally assured her.

“Nothing’s changed on my side. Mark promised me a night I’d never forget.” She smiled at Mark. “And since Sam’s delivered you up on a silver platter, looks like now we’ll both have a memorable evening.”

Jodi walked two fingers up Mark’s leg, slid between his thighs and cupped his groin. When his hips jerked and his breath hissed through clenched teeth, her lips curved into a smile. “What’s the matter, big guy? You enjoyed torturing me earlier with your little game. Can’t handle a little return attention?”

He stared at her from beneath lowered lids, a muscle in his jaw ticking. “I can take whatever you dish out, babe.”

“We’ll see if you feel the same after the games I plan to play.”

Private Property by Leah Braemel, Excerpt One


by Leah Braemel

ISBN: 978-1-60504-368-5
Length: Novella
Price: 3.50

Cover art by Natalie Winters

Warning: This book contains a woman fulfilling her sexual fantasies—including two men who are happy to tie her up, and be tied up, while using graphic language and floggers.

Jodi Tyler has loved and lost too many times to believe in happily ever after. That’s what makes her no-strings affair with her boss so perfect—his power in bed matches his respect for her independence. Still, when he surprises her with a ménage for her birthday, her secret thrill wars with a nagging thought: Why would he so casually share her with another man?

Even though Mark Rodriguez holds Jodi at arm’s length from his heart, her self-confidence is a turn-on he can’t resist. Inviting old college buddy and future business partner Sam into their bed for one night was supposed to set free her wildest fantasy. Instead he finds the tables turned, forced to watch while Sam brings her to the height of ecstasy.

Now, Mark’s not so sure he wants to share his treasure…


Excerpt of Private Property
Copyright © 2009 by Leah Braemel
ISBN: 978-1-60504-368-5

“I’m in,” she whispered, knowing Mark was listening in the van. She wiped the sweat from the back of her neck, angling her head to catch the cool breeze rushing through the air-conditioning vent.

“You never told me how you got the security code,” she heard Mark say in the earpiece as she headed through the empty room toward the center hallway.

“I have my secrets.” That weekend she’d bribed to call in sick so she could fill in had paid off—even if it meant she’d had to scrub toilets. The work hadn’t really been hard—the new owner had only furnished four rooms so far, so there’d not been much to clean.

A smile tugging at her lips, Jodi paused at the door to the office, ensuring it was empty. Moonlight streamed between the heavy curtains that flanked the French doors and across the floor in a rectangular pattern, slanting up the bookcases lining the walls. The red power light on the cordless phone reflected in the brass base of the banker’s lamp on the desk. Assured she was alone, she walked confidently toward the desk.

“The safe’s in the floor behind the desk,” Mark reminded her. “Figure you’ve got less than an hour to crack the safe, leave the envelope and get out before the next patrol cruises by.”

She rolled her eyes. Cruise was right—that’s all the minimum-wage cop wannabees currently providing security did for their visual inspection. Her van had been parked in the area for a week now and they hadn’t slowed down enough to read her license plate or check why she was there.

She pushed the leather office chair aside and knelt on the hardwood floor, inhaling a whiff of lemon furniture polish. The very same polish she’d applied on the weekend. Reaching beneath the desk, her fingers found the latch that would free the panel hiding the safe. Her breath left her with a whoosh when she heard the audible click.

“Got it!” she whispered, pumping her fist in the air. Now the real fun began.

Still on her knees, she reached down and swung open the square section of floor concealing the safe. A chuckle escaped her. She’d never bothered to tell Mark that during her stint as a replacement maid, she’d been assigned to dust this room. Or that she’d discovered the safe’s combination on the flip side of the leather blotter.

“Hey, Mark, start the timer—I’ll bet I can have this baby cracked in under three minutes.”

Mark’s low chuckle reverberated in her ear. “Two. Loser gets tied up and spanked.”

Jodi’s butt tightened. Spanking usually meant Mark was in the mood for ass play. Maybe she should deliberately take four minutes. No, she thought with wicked delight as she glanced at her latex covered fingers, it was time Mark got a taste of his own medicine.

“Then drop your pants, big boy, and show me your sweet ass, ’cause you’re going to get a whoopin’ tonight.”

Clenching her penlight between her teeth, she leaned over the dial of the old-fashioned safe. Then jumped when the egg started to vibrate deep inside her.

Sonuvabitch. She stopped herself from screeching. She’d completely forgotten the damned thing. Her nipples hardened into swollen buds rubbing against her cotton T-shirt while her pussy throbbed in time with the vibrations.

No way was she going to let Mark win this bet. Ignoring the vibrator as best she could, she carefully turned the dial clockwise to the first number. Heard the click as the mechanism released. One-and-a-half-turns counterclockwise. Another click. Clockwise again. Click. Grinning, she checked her watch.

“Mark, your ass is going to be sore tomorrow,” she whispered.

A quick tug on the handle opened the safe. Her penlight’s thin beam of light illuminated a thick rope of gold with a massive ruby pendant resting upon a black velvet-covered board. A set of dangly earrings that matched the pendant and several diamond-encrusted bracelets winked back at her. A fortune in easily fenced gems and the idiot had left the combination to the safe where anyone could find it.

Shaking her head at the owner’s stupidity, she pulled out the envelope. Then froze when the sliver of light from the French door lengthened, slid beneath the desk and over the safe.

She peered beneath the knee space under the desk. The moonlight outlined the shape of a dark figure shutting the doors.

“Under two minutes, Mark, I win,” she announced as she crawled from beneath the desk. She straightened and smiled, expecting Mark to flash that sexy smile of his. She was so ready to fuck him, to have him ram his cock deep into her.

But her smile froze when the intruder took a step into the room and the moonlight gleamed off his head. His shaved head.

Not Mark.

“Welcome to my parlor, said the spider to the fly.”

Monday, March 1, 2010

Personal Protection by Leah Braemel - Excerpt Two

Personal Protection
by
Leah Braemel


Sam Watson excels at keeping other people safe. Now a stalker is targeting him, but so what? A few doctored photos and a couple threatening phone calls are no big deal. He can watch his own back. Then again, the view from behind the sexy spitfire assigned to protect him isn’t so bad…

Rosalinda Ramos has managed to keep her attraction to Hauberk Security’s owner tightly under wraps. It’s just as well he doesn’t know. One slip—in the bedroom or on the job—will cost her her heart and her career, so she’s got only one thing on her mind. Protect Sam, whether he wants it or not.

The stakes—and the heat—rise exponentially when she discovers Sam belongs to an exclusive sex club—one she must investigate for potential suspects. Suddenly she finds herself immersed in a world that pushes her boundaries.

Sam delights in leading Rosie deep into his sexual shadows—until they go one game too far. Making him wonder if he can allow the woman he loves to take a bullet for him.

Copyright 2010 Leah Braemel

ISBN: 978-1-60504-526-9 (ebook) and 978-1605045597 (print version)

Buy as an ebook at MBaM

Buy the print version at:

Samhain's My Bookstore and More
The Book Depository
Amazon.com
Amazon.ca



No wonder he kept offering her a beer—he’d been trying to find a way to get rid of her. If she’d accepted, she’d have given him grounds for dismissal.

Sam wandered toward the kitchen. “I was fixin’ to make some dinner. I could grill us some chicken and toss a coupla sweet potatoes in the oven. We could finish it all up with that pecan pie you bought.”

Normally she found the way he pronounced pecan more like pehcawn sexy, but now his drawl shredded her nerves.

“No, thank you.” Rosie turned her back on Sam and marched to the spare bedroom. She pulled her suitcase from the closet, tossed it on the bed.

“Is there a problem?” Sam said from the doorway.

“Not at all.” She grabbed the clothes she’d put in the top drawer and tossed them into the suitcase.

He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, his forehead furrowing. “Then why are you packing like there’s a four alarm fire on the floor below?”

“I’ve decided to switch off with Kris or Andy. We’ll all be happier that way.” Well, she wouldn’t be. Goddamn, when would men realize that just because she was only 5’1 and didn’t have a penis didn’t mean she couldn’t provide proper protection or run an effective op?

“Happier? You wanna tell me why you think I’d be happier with them? What bee crawled up your— What’d I do to send you running like someone tied a bottle rocket to your tail?”

She whirled, her arms held rigidly at her side. “Oh, let’s see, you wanted someone else protecting you, not a little bitty woman who wasn’t a former Navy MP or D.C. City cop or CIA spook. And then when I asked you earlier if you had a problem with me being on your detail, you lied to me. Outright lied! I’ve put up with a lot of crap, Mr. Watson, but I don’t tolerate lies. You don’t want me guarding you, fine. But you should have said that when I asked.”

“I didn’t lie. I never said I didn’t want you protecting me because you were a woman.”

“But you told Chad you didn’t want me assigned to you, didn’t you?”

“Yes, that part’s true. But—”

“Ay bendito. I knew it.” She advanced on him. “Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I can’t take you down—just ask Kris or Andy. Just because I’m a woman doesn’t mean I’m not a damned good shot. I’ve been trained in counter-surveillance, and bomb disposal.”

“I know that, I—”

“Just because I’ve never worn a uniform or carried a badge doesn’t mean I can’t guard you. I’ve been on details guarding an Oscar winning actor while he was making that movie down in Savannah and got him to safety when the barricades failed to hold back hundreds of screaming fans.” Then the asshole had expected her to put out in the limo. “I’ve protected those three country music singers—did I mention how much I hate country music—and let’s not forget the gentleman from Saudi Arabia with his three wives and sixteen kids, or the dozens of women from the Safe and Sound program.”

“I know you’re good at your job. That wasn’t why I wanted someone else.”

“Ha! So you did want someone else. You admit it.”

“Yeah, I already admitted it. But—”

“But you don’t trust me to protect you.” She closed the cover on the suitcase and zipped it.

“I trust you. But—damn it! I wasn’t objecting to you because you’re a woman, Rosie. Well, yeah, it’s sort of because you’re a woman. Aw, hell, you’re reading this all wrong.”

“For all your bullshit about equal opportunities, it’s still just bullshit. You want to be a big macho he-man who guards the ‘little woman’ but God help you now it’s the other way around.”

“Rosie—Ms. Ramos—”


“I’ll stay until Chad can get someone else over here to replace me, but then I’m out of here. And not just this assignment but D.C. I refuse to work for someone who doesn’t respect my abilities. I’ll expect you to approve my transfer first thing in the morning. Because if you don’t, then I’ll file a lawsuit for sexual discrimination.” She stopped talking, the words clogging her throat. Oh Lord. Fifteen minutes ago, she was feeling so proud and now she was about to walk away from the job she loved.

“Goddamn it, I don’t want you to leave Hauberk, Rosie. I didn’t want you guardin’ me because I can’t guarantee I’ll be able to keep my hands off you!”

The breath whooshed from her lungs. Of all the excuses he could have given her, that was one she wasn’t expecting. A blast of heat, of desire, filled her veins, headed straight for her nipples, her pussy. “You—”

“You drive me crazy, woman!” Heavy hands landed on her shoulders, spun her around. “All you have to do is walk by and I get hard. I’m so hard right now it hurts.”

A glance down proved him correct.

Her traitorous eyes refused to return to his face, instead they sent a message to her knees to drop down to the floor, to her hands to cup him, caress him, free him. Her traitorous tongue flicked out and licked her upper lip in anticipation of taking that impressive erection into her mouth. Luckily enough, a part of her mind retained just enough control to override those urges.

“All I can think of is getting you out of those clothes and beneath me, Rosie. I know that you could slap me with a sexual harassment suit just for saying that. But it’s true.” He muttered something about the difficulty of herding cats—whatever the hell that meant—then moved closer, the heat from his body like a blast from a foundry. “I can tell when you’ve been in a room by the scent of your shampoo. That’s all it takes to stop my brain from workin’. Then my dick takes command.”

Just like her pussy heated and creamed whenever she smelled his aftershave. Or heard his deep chuckle floating through the office. Just like her breasts ached watching him roll his cigar between his fingers, wishing it was her nipples he was touching.

So why did her chest hurt hearing him say what she’d fantasized about for months? Because he was lying. For all his smooth words, he was trying to find some lame ass explanation to weasel out of having her as his lead op.

“That’s why I asked Chad not to assign you. Not because I don’t trust you to guard me. But because I don’t trust myself to leave you alone.” His voice dropped an octave. “I want you, Rosie. And not as my bodyguard.”

“I don’t…I don’t believe you.” Why wouldn’t her knees support her? What had happened to all the oxygen in the room?

“You want proof?” He pulled her until her breasts mashed into his chest. Before she knew it his lips were pressing against hers in a hard hungry kiss.

His tongue lightly stroked the seal of her lips. One of his hands cradled her head, holding her in place, his thumb toying with the skin below her ear, rhythmically stroking, calming her. His other hand kneaded her behind, pressing her against his erection. “Do you feel what you do to me? Do you believe I’m not lying when I say I want you?”

Personal Protection by Leah Braemel - Excerpt One

Personal Protection
by
Leah Braemel


Sam Watson excels at keeping other people safe. Now a stalker is targeting him, but so what? A few doctored photos and a couple threatening phone calls are no big deal. He can watch his own back. Then again, the view from behind the sexy spitfire assigned to protect him isn’t so bad…

Rosalinda Ramos has managed to keep her attraction to Hauberk Security’s owner tightly under wraps. It’s just as well he doesn’t know. One slip—in the bedroom or on the job—will cost her her heart and her career, so she’s got only one thing on her mind. Protect Sam, whether he wants it or not.

The stakes—and the heat—rise exponentially when she discovers Sam belongs to an exclusive sex club—one she must investigate for potential suspects. Suddenly she finds herself immersed in a world that pushes her boundaries.

Sam delights in leading Rosie deep into his sexual shadows—until they go one game too far. Making him wonder if he can allow the woman he loves to take a bullet for him.

Copyright 2010 Leah Braemel

ISBN: 978-1-60504-526-9 (ebook) and 978-1605045597 (print version)

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The sun hadn’t yet risen when Sam waved his passcard at the card reader guarding the entrance of Hauberk Protection Services’ D.C. facility. The front door unlocked, granting him access to the reception area.

The bulletproof doors were overkill, because that area only held the Accounting and Human Resources departments that were responsible for not only Hauberk’s Protection division but also for the newly acquired Security subsidiary. A half dozen empty desks occupied one corner for the local Close Protective Officers to do background checks or fill out reports. At the back of those sections was the executive office area that his operatives jokingly referred to as the Inner Sanctum. But the heavy steel doors he’d had designed to resemble the wooden gates of an ancient English castle he’d once stayed in impressed the hell out of potential clients.

Most mornings he would have headed into his office. This morning he turned toward the indoor firing range and its armory. He placed his hand over the new-to-America palm vein scanner. Another device he’d been recommending his mid-level security clients start installing instead of the easy-to-fool fingerprint scanners.

Hearing the muffled sound of gunfire beyond, he opened his locker and selected a pair of ear plugs, then signed out a box of ammo and a couple of paper targets.

As it did every time he entered the range, the familiar scent of gunpowder both soothed and irritated him as it reminded him how much he missed the camaraderie out in the field. Now he drove a desk, having to get his thrills through reading others’ reports, instead of the adrenaline rush of guarding a principal himself.

Two shooting booths were already occupied, including his favorite one at the far end. Chad—he should have guessed his area manager would be on the range this early, and… Well, well, well, instead of wearing her usual pair of baggy cargo pants, Ms. Rosalinda Ramos wore a pair of hip-hugging blue jeans. Jeans that hung low enough he could tell that she wore a blue thong and had some sort of tattoo on the small of her back. Aw, damn, he didn’t need to know that. Now he’d be thinking of taking those jeans off her all day to discover what the rest of the tattoo was and just how far down it went.

She raised her gun and fired. The shot hit directly in the heart of her target. She fired again. The second shot doubled the size of the original hole. She glanced over her shoulder, then muttering something he couldn’t hear, put her gun on the counter and bent over to fiddle with her left shoe.

Oh, mama, her jeans pulled taut over the tight round globes of her ass. An ass that begged to be squeezed. To be fucked. With a groan, he adjusted his pants, his dick firming at the thought of being buried in such a tight channel.

Ever since she’d won him in the charity bachelor auction three months before, he’d sensed a carefully hidden sensuality in Ms. Ramos. As if deep within, she guarded a slow burning ember waiting to be ignited. A fire that would set his world ablaze.

He’d been hard pressed not making a move on her the night he’d fulfilled his obligations and taken her to dinner. Though he’d wanted to see if he could add a little oxygen to the fire and kick start the inferno, he’d held back. He’d had to. She was his employee after all. So instead of making a move, inviting her up to his place or pressing his case when he’d escorted her home, he’d been the perfect gentleman. At least that’s how she’d described his behavior the next morning, much to his disgust and everyone else’s amusement.

But damn, it was getting tougher to maintain his hands-off policy. That element of danger and the heat he was sure would envelop them both was too enticing to resist. If he just had the right reason to breach her defenses…if he could find some way to let her make the first move.

Rosie straightened and took two more shots. Both shots were low and outside, yet the center of the target had a good half-dozen holes from where she’d been firing before he’d arrived. Interesting, had he thrown off her concentration?

Seeing his opening, he strode over to her. His body touching her in all the right places, he wrapped his large hand around hers over the gun barrel, repositioning her fingers. Dayam, it was like holding a sparrow, her hands were so tiny. He leaned down and nudged her earmuffs so he could murmur in her ear, lowering his voice to a whisper, “It’s better this way.”