Hey everyone! I'm thrilled to feature an awesome book by Patricia Pellicane this week. It's her first release at Resplendence Publishing (available today!) but not even close to her first release. You can check out her other works HERE.
Jack Knight has hired out his gun before, but never had a job come to mean so much. Lavinnia Carson was a beauty. He knew that at first glance, but he’d known his share of beautiful women. What was it about this lady that proved her different, that clouded his mind and caused him a constant ache to join her in her bed? One taste should have satisfied, only it hadn’t.
Jack soon came to realize she was the only woman for him. Now all he had to do was convince her she felt much the same about him and do it before the madman who killed her husband returned to finish what he’d started.
Vinnie never considered her nakedness as she reached for her gun. She grunted at nearly crushing weight of him as he’d slammed into her, spun her around and fell full length upon her. Heavier than a boulder, he squashed her almost flat. She couldn’t breathe.
This monster was going to kill her, and she couldn’t manage enough of a breath to call for help. Damn this brute to hell. Maybe she was going to die, but she wasn’t going to leave this world without a fight. She swung at him, her hand curled into fists. She grunted in pain as he blocked her swing just before she would have contacted with the side of his face. A second later, both her hands were pulled tightly over her head. She tried to kick him; she bucked her hips beneath him in an effort to throw him off. Nothing. He was heavier than the earth and equally as hard. He had to know she couldn’t breathe; her strangled gasps and soft desperate grunts were enough to tell even the most simple-minded that she was in serious trouble. But did he care? Obviously, he did not.
Suddenly, he pulled away, just enough to allow her a lungful of air. Their gazes locked for an instant before his mouth came crashing over hers and what would have been a scream became little more than a moan, lost in the warmth of his mouth.
She gasped in his breath. It didn’t matter. Her starving lungs cared not. Her heart pounded wildly. It didn’t matter that he tasted of clean skin, of fresh air, of warm coffee, a distant hint of whiskey, of man. It wasn’t that he tasted good, of course. A man who broke in couldn’t possible taste good, could he? Didn’t one have to love a man, or at the very least like him, before enjoying his kisses. Well, of course, she wasn’t enjoying his kisses. Good grief! Besides, they both knew he wasn’t really kissing her. The only reason his mouth covered hers was to quiet her screams. And if he was more gentle than most, it mattered not in the least. Liking this man or his kisses bore no consideration. She didn’t know him, therefore, she couldn’t honestly say she liked anything about him. Still, she knew one thing. She most certainly did not like his kisses.
Then why wasn’t she crying, begging him to stop, pleading for mercy?
She did none of those things. Even her struggles had ceased. Why? Because there was no need. In truth, he posed no real threat. He wasn’t the madman who had killed her husband. He was the man from the bathhouse and there was nothing threatening in his kiss.
She’d stop him in a minute. All she had to do was wait for him to lift his head, to gasp for a breath of air and she’d scream the house down. She wouldn’t have to wait much longer. She was sure she wouldn’t. Any minute now, she’d get that chance.
In the meantime, it couldn’t hurt if she relaxed. After all, she gained nothing but aching muscles if she remained tense. Once he noticed she was calmer, he’d raise his head. She was positive he would.
Only he didn’t.
The oddest thing happened. Even as she swore it to be impossible, Vinnie’s breath caught in her throat and her heart pounded. Granted it was already pounding with fright, but this…this was something different. It pounded still, and she couldn’t honestly say why.
She forgot her insistence that it couldn’t be so and silently admitted he did taste good. Odd, despite her wild and extreme emotions, she had the sense to realize this man certainly knew what to do with his mouth, especially when that mouth touched a woman’s.
Vinnie couldn’t remember ever being kissed like this. It was more than lips, more than a brush of his tongue. It went deeper than that, far more intimate. It tantalized as it involved all of him, his touch, his taste, his breath, just the right amount of pressure. It was all of that yet nothing she could name.
“More,” he muttered. “Give me more.”
She frowned as she listened to his softly uttered demand and frowned again as she realized she was unable to maintain any resistance, any thought beyond the taste of his mouth and the sensations that mouth caused her. Something was wrong, yet she couldn’t, for the moment, understand what that might be. She forgot to be afraid, forgot to fight and forgot to think. And none of it mattered. Nothing mattered but the feel of him, the delicious roughness of his clothes against her nakedness, the smell of him and the taste of his mouth. Nothing was more important than her sudden need for more.
Whew! Where's my fan? You can get this book, the first in the Arizona Heat series, at Resplendence Publishing.