Teague McMurtry spent the last six years of his life in the Army. Finally having enough of killing, he comes home, thinking he's put the nightmare behind him. When he meets beautiful and sultry Vivica Rambo, he thinks his life is taking a turn for the better. Little does Teague know that he's been targeted for death by a violent biker gang led by Vivica's psychotic older brother. Now Teague must put his skills to the test to protect himself and the woman he loves.
Vivica clung to him desperately. He held her, stroking her hair, rubbing her back, talking softly. Soon, she raised her face, her lips tickling his chin. Always one to oblige a beautiful woman, he lowered his face to hers, teasing her lips with his. She opened her mouth, eating at his with a passion he'd never had from any woman before.
He wanted to take her hard and fast, immediately. Instead, he made himself move slowly, allowing her to set their pace. He hoped this amazing kissing session would lead to the obvious, inevitable, hot, sweaty conclusion. Considering his luck lately, he tried not to hope too much, afraid of disappointment.
When her hand drifted down his chest, to the top of his pants, then to his lap, he gasped. Tongues of fire followed her fingers as they caressed his throbbing penis. His grip on her shoulders tightened as she loomed over him, pressing her chest on his. Her lips moved to his throat, her tongue flickering across his Adam's apple in an erotic dance that added to the fire burning inside him. His hands moved of their own accord, fondling her luscious body as he pulled her top out of her jeans. She was making him crazy, kneading his erection with her
fingers, rubbing with her palm, as he struggled to get under her top. One side of her blouse was finally free. His fingers crept under, sliding up to tease her nipple with his thumb.
Vivica moaned, writhing on top of him. Her hand was still on his zipper, fumbling now with the button at the waistband. That was something he could do onehanded. He undid his fly and her long, sensuous fingers found the opening. She smiled with pleasure when she felt how hard and big he was. The look on her face was like that of a kid who gets the best toy in the neighborhood for Christmas—smug satisfaction.
He wanted to talk, to ask her if this was really want she wanted, but his mouth couldn't form the words. Her actions made it impossible for him to think, let alone talk. Frustrated by her clothing, he got up, pulling her top with both hands. Vivica laughed at him, sitting up, her chest nearly in his face. She wiggled around, pulling the blouse over her head. Her breasts jiggled invitingly over the top of her black, lacy bra.
Who was he to say no to such an invitation? He lowered his head, allowing his tongue to trace the line of her cleavage as his hands massaged the sides and nipples. Laughing seductively, Vivica undid her bra. Her breasts sprang at him, released from their lacy prison.
Teague's shirt was off, his pants open. Her jeans kept them apart. He felt compelled to rid her of such a tight, unyielding object. That piece of fabric was keeping him from paradise and he'd had enough of waiting. Placing one knee on the couch, he knelt over her, attacking the zipper like a mathematical equation. While he worked, she pushed his jeans lower, massaging his buttocks with her fingers before tickling his ass and thighs.
It took longer than he anticipated, but he finally had her out of her jeans and in her skimpy black panties. Her belly was flat, her hips flared, tapering to firm thighs and trim ankles. True, he wasn't interested in the shape and trimness of her ankles, but he noticed it in passing as he pulled off her pants.
Growling with anticipation, he grabbed her to him, attacking her neck and breasts with renewed vigor. She demanded his lips on hers once more, yanking on his boxers, trying to free the beast. He flung her panties across the room, ready to divest himself of his underwear, when there was a tentative knock on the front door.
Vivica screamed, pulling the afghan from the back of the couch, covering herself. Teague realized he was standing in his living room with his dwindling erection hanging out the top of his pants, feeling like an idiot. He pulled his underwear up disconsolately. The tapping continued.
"I hope this is important!" he bellowed, jerking the door open. The neighbor to the south of him, an elderly lady named Milly, stood on the porch, her eyes averted, blushing furiously.
"I'm so sorry to bother you," she whispered. "I knew you were busy, but this note was in our mail and I think it's intended for you." She handed him a folded piece of paper, continuing to avert her eyes.
"Thanks, Milly. Sorry I yelled at you."
"It's quite alright, dear. Under the circumstances, I don't blame you. However, you might consider moving to another room or closing your drapes. There's quite a fine view of your living room from the street."
"Oh, fuck," he groaned loudly.
Milly giggled, eyeing him for the first time. She admired his tight ass and thighs as well as the fine ridges of his abdomen before smirking at him. "Well," she grinned, "not quite yet, but you were so close! Don't mind me, go back to what you were doing."
Dellani once told her publisher that she had enough books, finished & unfinished, to keep him busy for the next 10 years. He didn't believe her, but he should have. Two novels, Indian Summer and Lone Wolf are published, but she has 42 finished romance novels and at least that many (she won't count them) that are still in the works. She also added The Ninja Tattoo to her lineup in 2012.
Dellani hosts two shows a month on Blog Talk Radio – Dellani's Tea Time, for authors & illustrators of children's and YA books, and What's Write for Me – a venue for authors who write for adults. She reads and reviews books for other authors, maintains three blogs, shares her work on the publisher's site and does a variety of other obscure tasks that constantly confuse her family.
Other titles by Dellani Oakes