Aria Cole's Blog

Available free to read in Kindle Unlimited.
Park Avenue Punk is for all of you that love a good bully romance but can’t stand a cheater. Angst without any OW or OM drama.
#SafeBullyRomance #SecondChanceRomance #FilthyTalker #FilthySweet #DirtyTalk #Instalove #BadBoy #GoodGirl #TorturedHero #FreeWithKU
#KindleUnlimited
Buy The Book Here ➡️ hyperurl.co/knrfjy
She tasted like my bitter past and my hopeful future. I couldn’t get enough of her lips or the way she felt wrapped in my arms. All those years hurled back at me, the memory of her actually a reality. Something I never thought that I would feel again. She pushed me back, holding me at arm’s length. Her eyes gazed back at me. Those eyes that had haunted my dreams for the past five years.
“I can’t keep playing this game with you,” she said.
“Who’s playing games?”
“Come on, Jameson. Everything with you is a game. I am just another way for you to give the elite the finger.”
“I want to give you the finger. Maybe two or three. How I remember it, you really liked feeling full. Airtight, as they say,” I spat. The anger raged out of me. I wanted to hurt her because I wanted her so fucking bad that I couldn’t think straight. Shock sprang into her eyes, and then she cast them down. Her hands dropped to her sides and balled into fists. I knew I’d hit a nerve. I knew I’d hurt her, and I felt like a fucking prick. I never wanted to hurt her. When I was with Deven, it was the only time the pain died and left me alone. She silenced all the anger and lulled the voices in my head. When I was with Deven, I was Jameson, just a guy with the girl he loved. Not an angry, bitter dick with a chip on his shoulder. But we had a history—a fucked-up, tangled history filled with pain and humiliation, and no matter how much I wanted that not to matter, somehow it always did. The past was a tornado, and no matter how hard or fast I ran from it, it managed to catch up and swallow me whole. But I was tired of running, I was tired of hurting, and just for one second, I wanted to forget it all.
Buy The Book Here ➡️ hyperurl.co/knrfjy

PILE DRIVER is live!
Mila and I LOVED writing the blue collar romance featuring Arkin, a protective alpha who has a dirty side. We hope you love reading it just as much!

We've got the first chapter down below so you can get a little taste. Enjoy!

Blurb:
Daphne Madden finds herself trying to make ends meet by working at the local bar in the evenings, and picking up extra shifts at the coffee shop during the day. Because of her schedule, it leaves her without much time for luxuries like dating or a social life.


When a customer gets handsy with her one night, an unlikely stranger comes to her rescue.
It was only supposed to be drinks with his construction crew after a hard day on the job site. But Arkin Broderick finds himself helping a feisty waitress instead. His overwhelming need to protect her leaves him mystified and craving more.


Neither of them were looking for love, but like lightning in the darkness, sometimes it shows up when it’s least expected. 
But no matter how perfect things seem, the past always has a way of coming back and making itself known.


Read PILE DRIVER now! ($2.99 or free in KU)

Kindle: hyperurl.co/l5coww

Arkin:

“Look at the ass on her. I swear if I could just get her alone for five minutes…”

“You’d what?” I took another deep swig of my beer. “Talk her pants off with your charming personality?”


I finished my beer, nodding to the server in question to get our table another round.

“Hey, I boil my ass off in the heat all day. A man needs a girl like that to come home to.” The newest guy on our crew wasn’t leaving me with a stellar first impression. As the foreman, I liked to get to know the guys I worked with, so usually I liked to take them out after work so we could blow off some steam and unwind.

“You gonna take her home to your double wide?” I laughed. “That place is such a fucking mess. A girl like that would take one look at it and run for the hills.”

Josh ignored me, eyes lingering on the curves of the young waitress. “Look at her, bending over for that bottle. She’s giving me a show, boys.”

I only shook my head. I couldn’t stand a guy who wore his stereotype on his sleeve. Cat-calling women wasn’t allowed on my crew—never was, never will be.

“Last round, and we should be heading out—dawn comes early if we want to try to beat the heat tomorrow.” My mind was still fiddling with the details of our latest job, preparing and laying the groundwork for a new business going in on the same block as this fine drinking establishment.

The server approached, our tray of half a dozen beers teetering precariously on her palm. Her eyes were trained on the tray, a look of adorable focus on her face as she weaved through the tables to reach ours. “Here you are, gentlemen.”

She quickly set the beers at the table, scanning us once, eyes lingering on me before she finally asked, “Anything else I can get you?”

I smiled casually, about to thank her for her time and request the check, when Josh, out of nowhere, spat, “Just your phone number, baby.”

Glass shattered on the ground.

Oh no, that motherfucker better have not done something.

The server’s formerly friendly face twisted into one of shock and then shame. She turned, hand sliding across her ass cheek in just the spot I imagined Josh’s big, burly fucking hand had landed.

He was already high-fiving one of the other guys, laughing as she walked away.

And I was already seeing red.

I jumped from my seat, sending the chair clattering across the floor behind me. My hands at his neck, I hauled him out of his seat—because no man would hit another man while he was sitting down—and cracked him across the head.

“You’re off my crew, you filthy fucking pig.” I shoved him down the narrow aisle between the rows of half-drunk customers. “You’d better hope I don’t catch you talkin’ to a woman like that again, or I’ll put your punk ass in the hospital.”

“Fuck you, Arkin. I hate being on your crew anyway,” Josh said as he rubbed his neck, eyes boring a hole into mine before he turned, shoving his way through the doors and walking off into the night.

“So…” One of the other guys lifted a beer to his lips and paused. “Does this make you a feminist now?”

The table hummed silently, the air charged with my irritation. “You have mothers, don’t you? Sisters? You want any asshole treating them like that? Now pardon me, boys. I’ve got to apologize to that young lady on behalf of that animal.”

I left my beer and crew in the dust, beelining through the crowd in search of the embarrassed woman my former employee had just run off.

“Excuse me,” I said with a nod, swerving around another young server before turning down a hallway and catching sight of a pair of red Chuck Taylor sneakers behind a curtain.

I’d recognize those sneakers anywhere.

“Phoning a friend for backup in here?” I snuck behind the curtain, hiding in the old-fashioned phone booth with her. Her eyes were startled and teary as she looked up at me. I dropped the curtain, shrouding us in darkness again, only a sliver of light illuminating her sad, tear-stained cheeks.

“Hey, I can’t tell you how sorry I am about that asshat.”

My words hung heavy between us.

I swallowed, measuring my next words, wishing she’d make this a little easier on me. I didn’t have a lot of experience with things like women and emotions.

“I, uh…” I stumbled for some way I could console her. “I don’t take well to men treating women like that. Not on the job, and not off.” I paused, swallowing down the urge to push a rogue strand of dark hair behind her ear. “I fired him.”

Her eyes slid up to meet mine under heavy eyelashes then. Something about us being crammed up in this little space together had me wanting to…protect her in some way. Shroud her from every fucking idiot in this bar.

I imagined walking at her side, arm cradling her nice and close to me, slaying all the dragons for her.

“I told him if I saw him treat a woman like that again, I’d leave him with a one-way ticket to the emergency room.” I shifted, thinking what a terrible idea it’d been that I ducked behind this curtain at all. She didn’t want a big annoying bastard like me around her.

“I just wanted you to know that. Hopefully I ran him off for good.” I pushed the curtain aside. “I’ll leave you to your space now. I just wanted to apologize on behalf of—”

“What if he comes back?” she spat fiercely.

“What?” I asked, too rattled by the sound of her soft fierceness to even register her question.

“What is he’s out there right now, waiting for me to get off my shift? Or tomorrow night? What then?”

I stood a little, stumped, before ducking back behind the curtain with her. “I’ll leave you my number. You can use it day or night if you—”

“Right, like my own personal bodyguard?” She shook her head, wiping her tears. “Sounds like a great pickup line. Ya know, you construction workers are all the same.”

“Is that so?” My voice dropped an octave, suddenly very interested in whatever this woman was saying. “Care to tell me how I’m the same as that fucker who just grabbed your ass?”

“Because.” She crossed her arms, taking a step closer to me. “You’re trying to leave me with your phone number. You’re all pigs.”

“Oh yeah?” I couldn't think beyond proving her wrong, whatever it took.

“Yeah.” She edged closer, arms brushing across the wide wall of my chest. “Every last one of you.”

Just as the thought was runnin’ through my mind that I should prove her right and pull her into my arms and kiss her senseless, she did the opposite, tossing me the middle finger and then doing the damn unthinkable and pushing through the curtain before walking off.

“Well, sonuvabitch.” I thrust a hand over my day-old beard, leaving that crowded little phone booth more confused than I’d entered it. “So much for makin’ things right.”

I walked off down the hall, waving at the boys once as I passed, not bothering to stop to tell them I was done for the night. Pushing into the clear night air, I scanned the crowded parking lot once for Josh, making sure he’d left like I’d told him to.

Then I slid behind the wheel of my truck to wait. If there was any chance in hell that no-good piece of shit was coming back to fuck with her again, I’d be here for it.

And then he’d regret the day he was born.

#TabooSafeRead #FilthyTrickOrTreat #AgeGap #ForbiddenHoliday

www.amazon.com/dp/B07ZCCK4MF

Excerpt:

“What the fuck are you wearing?”
“I’m a wicked witch.” She curtsied, flipping the tiny black lace skirt she wore too damn high up her thigh for my liking. “It’s Halloween. Ease off, old man.”
She winked once, crossing her arms, enhancing her large, round breasts ready for a battle.
As her stepuncle, I couldn’t help feeling protective. As a man, I couldn’t help wanting to snatch her over my shoulder and haul her off to my cave.
My brother’s stepdaughter, Leigh, had been getting deep under my skin since the moment we’d met at the wedding. She was stubborn to the core, outspoken to a fault, and was very often in need of a punishment with the way she made my body react to her.
“You’re a wicked brat in need of a spanking if you ask me.”
Leigh’s icy gaze held mine. The fact that she was twenty-one years my junior didn’t seem to faze her a bit. “What’s that, Asher?”
She made my cock hard and my balls burn like she’d taken a baseball bat to them. I’d only come to town for this damn overblown Halloween party my brother liked to throw every year. He’d been beating me over the head with this tradition since we were kids, I was better off skipping Christmas dinner than the annual Hunt Halloween Bash.
That didn’t mean I hadn’t thought my way around how best to avoid her while I was here though.
Leigh Everett.
All grown-up and standing in front of me now in the shortest excuse for a costume I’d ever seen.
“You heard me, Wicked Brat.” I edged a little closer, invading her space.
She pushed her pert little lips out as if I’d annoyed her, but then it turned from pout to a cocked grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Asher.”
She licked her lips, gaze trailing across my face.
I must have looked weather-worn and aged like old leather compared to what she saw in the mirror every day. Her skin was creamy soft, a ripe sight for my eyes and begging for just a small touch.
“Salt and pepper looks good on you.” She grazed the pad of her thumb across my temple.
Fuck. Cool it, I said inside my head, doing my best to keep control when she was this fucking close.
“Don’t test me, kid,” I growled with warning. She didn’t know what kind of fire she was playing with.
“Or what?” Her smile was teasing, and her caramel honey scent was invading my senses and battering my insides with the need to have her again.
“The last time you were this close, my hands were on you.” The memory I’d been trying to choke out surfaced finally. The need to trail my tongue along her hammering heart felt like a damn vise grip to my balls.
“I was only eighteen. My memory could be faulty, but I seem to remember more than just your hands on my skin.” Her words were soft and breathy, meant to destroy me.

😈

99c or FREE
in KU: -> https://amzn.to/2J43HSL

#TrickOrTreat #DaddysHere #FilthySafeHalloween

My over-the-top ALPHA SHIFTER new release with Mila Crawford is LIVE in Kindle Unlimited today! Check out Marked by the Alpha: A Fated Mates Paranormal Romance on Amazon and fall in love with Gavin and his one and only mate, Liza!

amzn.to/3236hA0

Exclusive Excerpt Below:

Watching her eat gave me a strong feeling of satisfaction. Her small hands picked up the food hesitantly, and the way her mouth took small, thoughtful bites was the most sensual thing I’d ever seen. My mind couldn’t help thinking what her lips would feel like wrapped around my cock. I sat down on the bed beside her, but her scent was driving me mad with lust, something I had never known before.
“This is amazing. Everything is so delicious,” she murmured softly as a bit of cream lingered on the side of her luscious lips. With my finger, I grabbed the cream and put it to my lips.
“I bet you’d taste better.”
Liza flushed red and cast her eyes down and away from me. I found her sudden shyness sweet and so sexy. My bear let out a growl, demanding that I mate with her and make her mine. Liza looked up at me, her multicolored eyes now burning with her wolf’s amber hue.
“We’re mates,” she said matter-of-factly, her tone firm without any doubt or hesitation. In her eyes I could see how much trust she had in me. I could feel the pride in my bear, knowing that my mate—even though she had been through so much—knew that she was mine and that she was completely safe and cherished. In that moment, I couldn't wait any longer.
I dug at her arms with my hungry paws, pulling her to me in a kiss that took and gave with equal amounts of wild pleasure. I pushed a palm between her legs, letting my fingers surge against the seam of her damp panties.
“So ripe and sweet, I could smell you from a mile away.” I slipped one finger under the elastic and stroked. Pleasure tore through her, amber eyes burning with reckless sexual need. A surge of arousal washed over her sweet little pussy lips. The tightly caged bear inside me rattled his shackles.
“Your body beads up with sweet dew, just begging for me to plant my seed inside you.” I slipped my glistening fingertip between my lips and swirled her flavor around on my tongue. Her fingernails cut into my biceps as she watched, the scent of her fresh arousal filling my nostrils. “I need to eat.”
I yanked her panties off with one tug, cool air causing her to shudder. I growled, shoving her panties to my face and inhaling deeply. “Sweetest scent I’ve ever experienced.”
I shoved the panties deep into my pocket and pushed two fingers between her wet lips.
“I won’t wait for you anymore,” I huffed, heaving her into my arms and pressing her body up against the wall. I forced her ankles around her waist.
“Mine,” I said as I tweaked her nipple. Soft pants escaped her lips and filled the space between us. “The smell of your sweet honey was made for me. I'm hardwired to love you, baby.” I traced my fingertips up her torso, enjoying the way her wet flesh felt under my touch. “I can smell when you’re aroused, when your body is ripe and in need of my seed to fill it.”
I tweaked her nipple beneath the cotton of the oversize T-shirt she wore, and soft pants filled the space between our lips.
“My sweet Liza.” In one swift movement, I was shoving her up the length of the bed, the cotton of her shirt tearing in my greedy hands as I stripped her bare and licked up the soft contours of her lush body. “Who do you belong to?”
I kissed her slow and deep, hands claiming the inches of her skin until she was purring and bucking beneath me.
“You,” she whispered against my neck. “I’m all yours, Gavin.”
A possessive growl hummed low in my belly. “My mate.”
She shrieked softly when I looped both of her knees in my arms and angled her to my face.
“Look at this creamy slit glistening pretty for me.” I hummed in appreciation, inhaling deeply before the primal urge to gorge myself on her took over. Growing with pleasure, I took my first swipes at her juicy pussy, enjoying how she tasted on my tongue.
I dug in deeper, her hips arching against my mouth as my tongue flicked and licked at her clit. I steadied her sexy body with the spread of my palm against her soft belly, growling against her warm cunt before darting my tongue in and out of her entrance.
She sucked in gasps of air, one of her hands clutching at my thick forearm, the other in my hair.
“Hang on, baby. You’re about to hit the next level of the ride.”

I'm so excited to announce to release of Under Cover, my latest co-write with Mila Crawford!

This sexy, sassy, and SAFE read has a rom com twist you won't want to miss! Read on for a sexy excerpt!

http://getbook.at/UnderCover
*********
“Take off your clothes,” he demanded.

“Seriously, Brody? We don’t have to be naked for sex. I have a meeting with one of my clients soon,” I protested as he started to tug my pants and panties off my body, leaving me bare from the bottom down. A shiver of pleasure ran through me at the way his dominant hands ate up my flesh.

“Who said I was going to fuck you?” he asked, licking his lips slowly. “I just like staring at your juicy cunt.” He lapped my lips and then gently moved his forefinger up and down my wet slit.

“I like how wet and ready it is for me. You horny, baby? You want my tongue swirling around on your plump clit?” he asked, his voice husky, making my head fall back. Then the phone rang and panic set in.

“Brody, stop that. I need to take this call.”

“Who’s stopping you?” he asked as he reached under the sofa. I couldn’t see what he was reaching for, so I decided to ignore him and answered my call.

“Hello, Mr. Tomkins. Yes, sir, all the paperwork was submitted. The venue is lovely. Laurie is going to love having her sweet sixteen there.” I answered his questions, all the while thinking how ridiculous it was to spend a hundred and fifty thousand dollars on a teen’s birthday party, when my eyes landed on Brody. In his hand was my pink dildo. The one Kelsey gave me two years ago. The panther and I had had many decent nights together, and the fact that Brody was holding it in his hands made me a little nervous.

What are you doing? I mouthed, trying desperately to listen to Mr. Tomkins on the other line.

Keep going, Brody mouthed back while inserting one finger into me and then another. My eyes bulged wide at the welcome assault. I felt dirty and brazen, and based on the evidence of my lubrication, I liked it. Brody removed his fingers, and then, holding them up to my mouth, he inserted and made me suck them clean.

“Did you say something, Phoebe?” Mr. Tomkins asked after a moan escaped my lips. My face heated, and Brody smiled mischievously. He kissed my earlobe, pulling and tugging with his teeth.

“Yeah, Phoebe, did you say something?” he whispered in my ear right before he parted my legs with his knee and plunged the dildo inside me.

I tried to listen as Mr. Tomkins began listing his concerns. “N-No, Mr. Tomkins. I’m just not feeling very well today. I apologize, sir.” I tried keeping my voice as level as I could while Brody maintained his assault. To make matters worse, he bent and began lapping at my sensitive core, increasing my need and desire

Check out the new excerpts from two of my favorite couples! The banter is off the charts, and as always: free to read in Kindle Unlimited or just .99 cents!

Mother Trucker:
getBook.at/MotherTrucker

“Isn’t there a rule about wearing white on rainy days?” The timbre of his voice tingled like sparks against my skin.
“This one took me by surprise,” I whispered, tucking soaking-wet locks behind my ear.
“You and me both.”
I narrowed my eyes, sensitive nerves pricking in places they hadn’t since, well, pretty much…ever. I felt his gaze crawl over me, the thin white cotton of my button-down shirt obviously see-through by now.
I gulped.
He backed away, adjusting the angle of his worn trucker’s hat.
Another crack of lightning lit the sky as I practically drooled over the startlingly golden-bronze shade of his skin, damp with rivulets of rainwater. The thundering in the distance was matched only by the thundering of my heart in my ear drums. Could he hear it?
God, I hoped not.
“My car stalled,” I finally blurted.
“You mean that golf cart you got there?” He assessed my trusty little blue demon behind me. “That thing brings a lot of words to mind, but car isn’t one of them. Piece of shit maybe, but not car.” He moved up the short driveway, slapping at the rusted tailgate of a vintage Ford pickup.
“And what do you call this?” I hollered at his back, rain still sliding down in determined drops, soaking into my bra and pebbling my nipples.
Or was it him, all strong and manly looking?
I hated it, either way. I vowed to banish all of the white shirts in my closet the minute I arrived home.
“This”—he smacked the truck—“is my baby.” He reached the door of the garage, eyes on me again. “If that old thing impresses you, you should see my big rig.”
My mouth shot open, embarrassment burning my cheeks as I thought I very well should turn around and stomp away, but I had no car and my phone battery was long dead. The sixty-minute drive home from work every day was a killer in the best of times, impossible on the worst days, apparently like this one.
“I’m not sure what’s worse: enduring this storm or your corny jokes.”
His chiseled features shot into an amused half grin that caused my heart to riot in my chest.
“You’d be wrong to assume you’ll be the only one suffering.”
His eyes made a point of coasting up and down my drenched form before he huffed and pushed off the doorjamb and descended into the darkness of the garage, door closing behind him. I frowned, missing his presence in a way I wasn’t altogether comfortable with.
“Mother trucker.” I pushed through the door he’d just disappeared behind, surprised when blinding white light blasted my eyes. Shiny chrome toolboxes towering over raw pine workbenches worn soft with years of use surrounded me.
“This is the cleanest garage I’ve ever seen.” I brushed my fingers along one pale workbench.
“This isn’t my real shop, just the one I use for filming.”
“Filming?” I raised an eyebrow. “Got a local cable show I don’t know about?”
“More like half a billion followers streaming online.” He slung one heavy, denim-clad thigh over the nearest Harley, settling himself soundly as if he was made to be there.
The broad stretch of his shoulders caught my attention. I fully appreciated the way his broad body swallowed up the space, so much so that the big bike looked small in comparison. A thrill of desire shot through me, blood hammering through my veins to a pounding rhythm.
My mouth was suddenly dry, pain cracking my throat as cartwheels bounced around my diaphragm.
Mother trucker.
“Gotta confess, sweetheart, you’ve had me pegged. I’m a Harley man at heart, but my specialty is trucks. Leno called me in to rehab a classic Ford, and the LA Times did a piece. It’s been a circus since.”
I gulped, taking in his words, still stumbling at how downright hot he made me under the engine.
I cracked a smile at my own pun, suddenly wondering why the hell I’d found myself at this garage during this storm. Served me right for taking a new way home from work, but flooding had already caused a backup on the bridge out of town, so I’d thought it might be worth my time to take the scenic route home. Well, now the bridge on the edge of town was washed out, and I was stuck on a tiny strip of land that separated the river from the ocean. The only establishment on the island? This one.
Luckily, from the outside it’d been well-lit, and with the promise of a power cord and a wrecker calling, I’d been fighting with my purse and about to knock on the door of his garage when he’d caught me outside in the downpour.
“This place is pretty incredible.”
“Thanks.”
His gaze followed me shrewdly as I wandered the edge of the garage, between the motorcycles, modern and vintage, finally catching sight of myself in a full-length mirror in the corner.
“Oh shit.” I crossed my arms over my shirt, horrified that I’d been so stunned by the perfection of this place that I’d forgotten I’d worn white and was soaked through. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Can’t blame a guy for enjoying the view while it lasts.”
I huffed, pulling down a coat that hung from a rack beside the mirror. I shrugged it on, folds of black leather swallowing me like a warm hug, the scent of what I imagined was him enveloping me, seeping deep into my bones and melting them like warm butter.
Prickles of desire spun up through my nerves, and I did my best to tamp them down.
“Do you have a charger?” I suddenly remembered my phone, pulling it from its place in my bag.
He was at my side a moment later, lazy grin holding me captivated until I was stupid.
“You look good wrapped up in my favorite jacket.” He winked once before spinning on a boot and leaving me all by myself, his scent clinging to me.
“Coming, sweetheart?” he threw from across the room, big shoulder resting on the doorframe.
“Name’s not sweetheart.” I followed, dragging my feet because I knew…I just knew that whoever he was, this wouldn't end well. There was no way. I’d had my fair share of run-ins with arrogant, gorgeous men like him. I’d learned to steer clear.
“What else should I call the lost little puppy that’s landed itself on my doorstep?”
I bristled at his words, the feminist brewing inside me dampened by his overt and rogue sexuality.
This son of a bitch was intoxicating.
I met him chest to chest, hovering a moment. “Call me Primrose Weatherford.”
His eyes grew ride, mouth popping open to respond before I moved without thinking and pushed past him and straight into his house, walking in like I belonged there, when really I felt for my own sanity that I should be running out.
“Prim, huh?” he sang from behind me. “Not even a little bit surprised.”

getBook.at/MotherTrucker

Riding His Iron:

getBook.at/RidingIron

“Is that your welding iron, or are you just happy to see me?”
Keene was bent over his workbench, freshly molded iron and a still red-hot poker at his side.
“Baby, if that were my iron, you’d feel it.” He spun on his chair, nailing me with his eyes, iron pipe in one hand. “I've got at least a few more inches in girth—” his grin tipped “—and length, judging by the way you’re walking this morning.”
I laughed, crossing the garage with the ache between my thighs a delicious reminder of him. “Thank God for the length and girth—you’d never get work as a comedian.”
He set the pipe behind him, shaking his head with amusement before pulling me onto his lap when I was close enough. He caught my head in his hand, pushing our lips together in a kiss that stole all of the air from my lungs. “Why are you always grinding my last nerve, woman?”
I grinned against his lips. “Funny… It felt like I was grinding your iron last night.”
His laugh echoed around the walls of the garage, hand swatting at my ass in amused punishment.
Sparks of arousal pulsed through my core.
This strong, gorgeous man had the ability to take my breath in just one hot look. Nerves sizzled as he rocked his cock against the seam of my panties, his hands pushing up the shirt I’d worn to bed.
“I could eat you for breakfast, you smell so damn good.” He fisted my ass cheek in one palm, grinding me against him and turning me up another notch.
“Well, before we get to breakfast, I have something to show you.” Excitement spun through my insides. “The delivery dude just dropped this off.” I pulled a rolled tube from behind my back. “The mock-up for the cover came in. I had my manager overnight it.”
My fingers worked the tape. Keene’s eyes were trained on mine.
“I haven’t seen it yet. I wanted to see it with you.” I popped the plastic top, tipping the tube and shaking out the rolled poster.
I swallowed. “Ready for the cover of Rolling Stone, baby?”
“Am I ready to share you with the world? Nope, not at all.”
I placed a kiss on his cute little frowning lips. “You already do, Reynolds.”
I unrolled the poster then, the image facing away from me and at him. I didn’t look at it, only held his eyes, searching for any registering of an emotion.
“Well?” I moved the poster at an angle I could see, taking it in for the first time. “Whoa.”
“Yeah,” he uttered, lifting me off him and setting me at my feet on the floor before he turned back to his workbench.
“We’re pretty fucking hot.” My eyes rolled up and down the poster. The way one of his hands rested on the throttle of the custom Harley, his other wide palm spreading across my upper thigh. Layers of pale purple and silver chiffon floated on the breeze, so soft and airy juxtaposed with his broad form—testosterone-soaked metal running through his veins. He was hot, and together, we were on fire.
I licked my lips, eyeing just the right space front and center between his big workbenches. I stabbed a few tacks into the corners, backing up to appreciate my addition to the space.
“I look like the big bad wolf that kidnapped the princess.” He was at my side, his growly voice rumbling straight to my thighs. “Plus, you’re doing that simpering thing. That’s mine. I don’t want anyone else to see the face you make when I’m sliding into you.”
“That’s what makes it hot.” I grinned, proud of what we’d done together. This man was inside my bones in inexplicable ways. We were opposite in every sense of the word, and yet something about us just worked.
“I’ll have to throw a sheet over it every time the guys come over.” He stepped closer, thumb dusting along the curve of my thigh in the photo. “I don’t want anyone seeing what’s mine.”
He turned then, eyes falling with intense emotion.
“Well—” I cupped his cheeks in my hand and placed a kiss on his cheek “—it’s mine too.”
His eyes burned back at me, as if he was warring silently with me in his head, before both of his hands spanned the tops of my shoulders, thumbs skimming the skin at my throat and then down the center of my chest.
When he reached my breast, he cupped it softly, thumbing at the nipple.
“I know it’s yours, baby. How could I forget, when you’re talking about running off to New York City?” His lips grazed my neck as his fingers twisted in the elastic of my panties and tore them easily from my legs. “So I’ve already made the decision to let you do whatever it is you want to do.” His digits swirled in my wetness, spreading it around as low growls puffed past his lips. “Whatever makes you happy, I support.” Both of his palms were at my waist now, grinding my lips against his. “But I don’t have to like it.”
He nipped, hands pushing up my T-shirt and alternating between tickling and tweaking my aroused flesh.
“Keene, oh my God.”
He lifted me onto the counter, spreading my thighs so he could fit between them snuggly. I sighed when his naked cock pressed against the seam of my body, silky hot skin nestling against mine and making me desperate for that full feeling of him lodged deep inside me.
“The only thing that makes me happy about seeing that—” he licked my nipple, teasing between words “—is knowing that I get the real-life you, and that’s even hotter.”
I sighed, lost for words as he worked me with his tongue, taming me in ways deep inside my soul he didn’t even know he was capable of.
Keene unleashed me, gave me all the freedom I wanted, and in return, I only wanted to give it all up to be his, right here with him, every day.
I’d found him out here a lot of early mornings. The idea that I was getting much more sleep than he was in his bed was purely laughable. My stomach fluttered, intense with butterflies most of the waking hours I was with him. That was one of the very reasons I’d been willing to leave for New York yesterday—my feelings for Keene were so intense, I was looking forward to a few days away to process.
But had I really been disappointed when the flight screen had flashed my flight to JFK from delayed to cancelled?
Not if it meant missing this view right here—him, soaking up me.
His hands linked with mine, sliding them over my head as his broad form collapsed into me, crushing me against the wall and pushing inside me in the same move.
I groaned, feeling the pinch of my still-raw nerves from the last time he was filling me.
“You feel so good, Keene.” My eyes slid closed as he placed kisses on my eyelids, stroking softly and working my body into a state of flushed arousal.
“So sweet and juicy, my beauty.” He nipped and licked, filled me and fucked me, his hips grating against the inside of my thighs as he buried himself deeply. “I've also made another decision about you and me.”
“Oh?” I cried out when his teeth connected with my neck and he nipped playfully. His hands ran up the length of my arms, lighting every nerve on fire before he brought my ring finger to his lips, sucking my digit and swirling his tongue around it until, with slow precision, he released my ring finger from his captive lips, and a raw pink stone twinkled in the morning light.
“I love the way you grind my iron, baby.”

getBook.at/RidingIron

Purchase the Book here ---->hyperurl.co/y5d6s7

Excerpt!

My chest felt empty with her absence. I wanted to hold her tightly to me for even just a few seconds more. I didn’t often think about the danger or my mortality, but Weston, Crosby, and Callie were my soft spots, my proverbial Achilles’ heel. I’d take a bullet for them all, but what I really wanted was to see all three of them again, have them in my life forever. Tiny explosions of emotion ran amok under my skin. I was not one to run my mouth, but I wanted to tell Callie how she made me feel—possessive, jealous, territorial, and close to the edge of stability.
Callie Langdon, you make me crazy. I want to ravage your sexy, smart mouth and make you stop staring at me with eyes full of innocence. I want to suck and lick you until they’re clouded with the sweet haze of lust.
I tugged my fingers through my hair and scrubbed my hands down my face.
“You’re the one who needs to be careful, Asa. Come back in one piece, that’s all I ask for.” She cuffed my shoulder in a fake jab that made my heart hurt. I wanted to crush her delicately, deflower her in her own damn front yard. But I chided myself for getting out of hand. Callie was still a girl, and I was already a man. My duty was to go and fight, defend both Callie’s and Crosby’s fierce independence—their right to thrive and rise on their own.
“Go inside, it’s getting cold.” Of all the things I could have left her with, monumental or trite, I told her to go away—the precise opposite of what instinct was telling me to do.
Callie Marie, I will see you again. If I have to escape death for that reason alone, I’ll see to it.
When she hit the top step, Callie slowly turned to see if I was still watching, as if letting go were easy. Her eye contact unraveled a thread that had been tightly wound inside me. It snapped and she bolted, rushing back down the stairs and into my arms. I pulled her head to my chest and cradled her close to my heart.
“I haven’t forgotten the promises I made,” I whispered, even though the lights were off and no one was around to witness our secrets. I caressed her long hair that fell over one shoulder. Alone in the woods, wet from the rain and angry at my inattention, she’d pledged her virginity to me. I hadn’t forgotten. What was sacred to her was also sacred to me.
“Asa, I’m scared.”
Even our fear was forged in the fires of want and need.
“Callie, I’ll come back.”
“Promise me?”
“I’ll be back, Callie. If only to make good on all my promises.” She shoved off me then and charged up the steps like she had something to outrun.
I could wait a lifetime if my reward was Callie Langdon.

She drinks too much wine, loves rock ‘n roll, and writes shamelessly sexy love stories! In fact, she’s working on a steamy little Christmas something right now! ❄️🔥😍
Andddddd SURPRISE! Didjya catch her Sinister Knights tee? There’s a brand new Aria Cole series coming in early 2018 and I CAN’T WAIT TO SHARE IT WITH YOU!!!! 💞🖤




+ A New Release Excerpt!!!!

“I can’t just bail on Lily. And explaining this one to her is gonna be…”
“Leave that to me.” Ash’s hand wrapped around mine, hauling me back into the bar, beelining for the small crowd of guys that had gathered around my best friend.
“Pardon,” Ash interrupted their conversation. “Tinsley's gonna be staying with me for the next few weeks. She’ll stop over to grab clothes and any other shit she needs, and you’re welcome to come over anytime. But for the next thirty days, I’m pretty much gonna keep her chained to my bed and screaming my name over and over. Just thought I’d run it by you.”
Lily’s eyes widened, darting from Ash to me and back again. “Is this guy fucking crazy?”
“Yeah, seems like it.” I rolled my eyes at her. My best friend burst into a giggle before looking back to Ash.
“Sounds like a plan, man. You got a pool?” Lily arched an eyebrow at Ash.
“Yeah.” His grin split his face. “I got a pool.
“Then I’ll be over.” She winked at me. “And, hey—” She caught Ash’s shirt by the shoulder. “If you make her shed a single fucking tear, I will hunt you down and force-feed you your balls, got that?”
Ash’s eyebrows arched before he looked to me. “She serious?”
“Willing to find out?” I cocked my head.
“Nah, I’d cut off my own arm rather than hurt you.” He looked at Lily seriously. “She’s safe with me.”

UNDER SIEGE is available NOW in KindleUnlimited + includes a free book for a limited time!

#CockyBastard #MilitaryALPHA #DirtyTalker

Riding Rough: getBook.at/RidingRough

#CowboyALPHA #WoundedSoldier #SecondChanceRomance

Colt Sutherland has been to hell and back, from the day he was deployed to the desert to the one that nearly ended his life in an attack. Only one thing kept this soldier breathing, an angelic vision of a young woman with shiny blond hair and a smile that soothes the ache in his soul. The only girl to ever own his heart--the one that got away.
Back in his hometown, Colt finds the unexpected in Raven Wetherspoon. Her lush waves and seductive curves call to him, leaving him chomping at the bit to get to know her better, and get her underneath him. But can her touch really heal his battered warrior's heart, or will the past that haunts him steal his life once and for all?
Warning: Skintight Wranglers, cowgirl boots, and bareback rides under the stars would leave even the wildest of bad boys believing in love at first sight. Letting go of the reins won't be easy when this filly needs breaking. Saddle up and hold on tight, Colt and Raven are riding hard for love!

#SheIsAVirgin #HeIsAVirgin
#VirginsEverywhere #KU
Now Live!!!
Did I mention they're virgins? 😇🤠🙏😉
http://smarturl.it/RoughRiderAC