Well, for months, I've floundered with my werewolf story, chewing on the changes I wanted to make, snarling at the inconsistencies holding me back. Recently, the problems cleared themselves in an epiphany of mind-shattering proportions.
Yes. I am supposed to working on other stories.
No. This one doesn't have a home yet.
BUT this is 'the one', if you know what I mean. I think my author friends will know.
btw, that's Forrest Griffin up there. He's a famous MMA fighter in The UFC, and also the inspiration behind Stephan Colinford, the star of the little tidbit of hotness I'm sharing with y'all. (Warning: there are words in this one not found in other AE books. And they are staying.)
His gaze wandered her body, then returned to her face, where he tried to gauge her reactions. Stephan offered her a hand. Her gaze left his eyes, moved to his hand and then seemed to shift internal before her eyelids dropped into a sexy come-hither look.
Stephan wasn’t going anywhere, but he damn sure meant to pull her in. Her fingers were delicate in his when he curled them to his palm and yanked her close, striking her body soft body against his. A strange tingle danced through him. His breathing quickened, his heart raced.
“Oh?” Her breath was intoxicating, an enticing caress on his face. “Don’t you mean the lack of distance between us?”
He released her hand, wrapping his arm around her, spinning them both until her back was pinned to the vinyl coated chain link cage. He curled his fingers into the fencing to either side of her shoulders, leaning close, feeling the heat rise from her before running his nose along the exposed skin of her throat. Goddammn she smelled good--like a lioness but wilder. He growled in her ear. “Do you have a problem with this?”
“Not at all. In fact...” It was her turn to ogle his body. He could almost feel the weight of her gaze straying over his pelvis and loins. He knew she was thinking thoughts as erotic as he was. Stephan caught the color of her imaginings through his untapped werecat senses. “I whole-heartedly encourage it.”
“...bring me to my knees, Saint...” Her thoughts solidified into words for him. Stephan liked the path her mind was on. Seemed Sariah could be a match in bedroom sports.
A soft smile, spread across his lips. He released the cage with his right hand, fingers braiding into her hair on the way to her cheek. “But what if there was distance... if I wasn’t here for a while? We are heading out of town, traveling to another fight venue.”
She pouted. “Bummer. I was just beginning to enjoy this.” Her thoughts weren’t so acquiescent. “...tackle him, ride his hips down to the mat...”
He stiffened just at the images he glimpsed in her mind. Oh yes please. Wait. No, not now. Maybe not ever.
He couldn’t let her know how badly he wanted the same thing. He’d have to tell her everything, then, and he couldn’t admit to what he couldn’t control. Stephan stroked the fine skin of her cheek. “It’ll be a couple weeks. We’re hoping to actually meet a representative of Couture’s gym, maybe Randy himself...”
“Can’t stand in the way of that, can I?” Her bottom lip was full and his mouth watered to taste it. His thumb strayed from her cheek to trace the bottom edge of her lip.
“You could try...” He wanted her to; the lust surging in him demanded it. Her gaze fell, and he stepped back. “By the way, I never properly introduced myself. I’m Stephan Colinford.”
“It’s a pleasure making your acquaintance.” A purr rolled through her words. She made no attempts to hide the cat within. “I’m Sariah DuShayne and I’m dying to know just one thing about you...”