Title: LaClaire Touch
An After Hours Novel
Author: Dori Lavelle
Genre: Steamy Contemporary Romance
Release Date: July 31, 2017
When a man pays for my body, I shut off my emotions, close my eyes, and force myself to push through. No thinking. No feeling. No breaking apart.
Soon the debts will be paid. Soon I'll scrub their cologne and sweat from my skin and walk away from this business for good, pretending it never happened.
For now, my body is not my own. For now, I belong to any man who can afford me.
But when Derrick LaClaire asks for a night with me, I turn him away, even when he offers to pay triple what I earn per hour. I need his cash, but if I let him touch me, I know I'll break every single one of my rules. And he'll discover who I really am.
LaClaire Touch is a steamy full-length, standalone novel with a happy ending.
**WARNING: Due to sexual situations and adult content, this book is not intended for readers under the age of 18. **
Free in Kindle Unlimited
Dori Lavelle, is a mother, wife, and a sucker for happy-ever-afters and mint chocolate.
Growing up, Dori read a lot, and when she wasn't happy with a particular ending, she wrote a different one, just for herself. Before long, she was writing stories when she should have been doing homework. The time has come for her to share the stories she cooks up in her head.
Add to Goodreads:http://bit.ly/2tDI69K
You can call me arrogant as much as you want. But when you're the best at what you do and have the hottest restaurant on the west coast, with enough Michelin stars to make Gordon Ramsay's head spin, you've earned the right to your confidence.
When I give an instruction in the kitchen, it's not a suggestion--it's an order. So when a new chef thinks she can do things her way, and dares to say so to my face, even her sharp wit and gorgeous pouty lips don't make it okay.
But I have to admit, she's got talent. She's creative in the kitchen and not even that double-breasted chef jacket can hide her perfect body. As I get to know her, I can't help wanting to know everything she thinks. I've never met a more talented chef. And I've never met a sassier and sexier woman in my life.
There's only one way this push and pull can end.
With her in my bed, begging for more.
She lets out a sigh of relief, but my cock hears something different in her gasping exhale. I bring my thumb slowly to a speck at the side of her mouth, fingers resting on the round perfection of her jawline. She stills under my touch and catches my gaze, time slowing with the deliberateness of my movements.
I brush the speck, but don’t pull away. Instead, I bring my thumb back across those ever-pouted lips, tracing their dip and fullness, letting her feel the texture of hands rough and scarred from a lifetime in kitchens, our eyes locked together in a moment of anticipation, emotions raging like an angry sea against the dam of the distance between us.
Her lips part slightly, I feel her shortening breath on my hand, and I push my thumb between those juicy, perfect lips, fingers pressing against the base of her ear. Her gentle gasp breaks the silence, before she closes those soft lips around my thumb, the sight of them pressing against my skin making my cock full against my pants. Her teeth gently squeezing my nail, tongue flickering as I push the finger inside the hot wetness of her mouth.
My other hand already on her waist, I pull her toward me, press her lithe body up against mine. Those magnificent hips swaying and rubbing against mine, her weight shifting onto me, breasts heaving, nipples so hard now I can feel them through that sweater dress.
“You’re fucking incredible,” I growl. Prelude to pulling her toward me, my finger in her mouth still, angling her head so I can taste the tenderness of her neck, run my sensitive tastebuds down the taut muscles, follow the path that leads me to the front of her chest. Quiet moans getting louder as I run my tongue down the softness of her cleavage, her dress my enemy now as I pull it down and bury my teeth in her breasts.
“Oh God…” she moans. “Cole…”
About the Author:
JD Hawkins writes erotic romance with modern-classic alpha males and strong, independant women. He currently lives with his wife in Los Angeles, CA. He loves to travel and has lived in many places, including New York City, India and Thailand. When he isn't writing, JD enjoys surfing, training in Mixed Martial Arts, reading and taking naps. He's always loved making up stories, especially ones inspired by real life.
Connect w/ JD:
Subscribe to JD’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/ceF7oj
Illicit by M.N. Forgy is NOW LIVE!
**Can be read as a standalone**
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2uER8ED
Watch the book trailer HERE: https://youtu.be/spBN1jCZDzg
I’m an animal, a member of the Sin City Outlaws motorcycle club that isn't capable of human compassion. So I’ve been told anyway.
Raven is my club’s prisoner. I’ve been ordered to break her. It should be easy given my violent history. But being this close to a woman—this woman—for the first time in a long time, is like sharing company with the demon Lilith herself.
She’s my perfect toy. Filled with a dark rage. Blessed with perfected beauty. Sinfully sweet and wickedly divine. Everything about her solicits the demons inside me
I want to hear her screams. I want those big, dark eyes looking up at me—silently begging me for mercy. I want to be her heaven…and her hell.
My desire for her is forbidden. My infatuation is illicit. I’m betraying my club.
And if the wage of my sin is death, then this woman is going to get me killed.
“Kill me?” she whispers, her fingertips caressing my cheek. I want to push my body onto her, and feel her warmth against my skin one more time before I take her life and her body cools. I’m going to enjoy her. She’s dark and twisted.
I smile and bend down to get closer to her. Running my hand through her soft black hair I pet her, brushing her loose hairs away from her face. Fuck, I’m excited to play with her, hear her scream and watch her fear me. To quickly kill someone as pretty and smart as her would be a goddamn waste. Like breaking a toy before you got a chance to play with it, this needs to be done slowly.
“Oh no sweetheart, the fun is just about to start,” I threaten in a low whisper.
Something dark passes over her face, but she doesn’t break eye contact. It’s almost as if she sobers completely.
Suddenly a foot strikes me in the chest and I sail into the side of the van.
About the Author
M.N. Forgy was raised in Missouri where she still lives with her family. She's a soccer mom by day and a saucy writer by night. M.N. Forgy started writing at a young age but never took it seriously until years later, as a stay-at-home mom, she opened her laptop and started writing again. As a role model for her children, she felt she couldn't live with the "what if" anymore and finally took a chance on her character's story. So, with her glass of wine in hand and a stray Barbie sharing her seat, she continues to create and please her fans.
Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads