I have a date! March 15, 2019.
And the excerpt. :)

The Real Thing-Excerpt (not proofed yet)

"It's well past eight. Don't you have to go to work?"
“It is?” How did the time fly by this fast? “Oh my God. I’ll be late!” I jumped off my chair.
“I can take you,” he offered, getting up, too.
“You have a car here?” I dashed to the closet to get my coat.
It was at least forty minutes from here to my desk in the office, which meant I’d be late no matter how fast I ran to the subway.
“No,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child, as he followed me to the hallway. “I didn’t drive here.”
“Right. Of course. Teleported or something. Sorry, I keep forgetting.” I was running around my apartment, collecting my things—purse, keys, TTC pass for the subway.
“I’ve no car.” Marcus leaned against the wall, watching me rush around in panic. “But I can still take you.”
“Really?” I stopped in my tracks, clutching my purse to my chest. “Could you? Please? That would save me forty minutes of commute. I could, actually, be early for once.” I shoved my feet in my boots. “How does it work?”
“You have to tell me the address. Is the door to your office closed?”
I gave him the address of the building where I worked.
“But I don’t have my own office. I work in a cubicle.”
“Is it open?”
I nodded. Obviously, Marcus had never been in a cubicle.
“Okay. Is there a bathroom or a broom closet in the building, some kind of a closed room where no one is likely to be inside at this hour? We don’t want to materialize in front of your unsuspecting co-workers and give them a heart attack.”
“Right. The supply room is always locked, and I don’t think anyone would be there this early. People tend to hang around the coffee maker in the kitchen first thing in the morning.” I gave him the approximate location of the supply room on our floor.
“Perfect. Come here,” he gestured for me to come closer.
My stomach fluttered in anticipation. I slung the strap of my purse over my shoulder and came a foot or so away from him. My back straight. My arms down my sides.
“I’m ready.”
“Closer, Angela.” His voice turned warm and soft, rolling over me like a wave of honey.
I made another step forward, fully invading his personal space now. The faint smell of leather tickled my nostrils. It must have become a permanent part of him since he wasn’t even wearing any leather this morning.
“A little more,” he murmured, closing the distance between us. “You have to be very close to me for this to work.”
He lifted my arms over his shoulders then hugged me around the waist, drawing me into the hard warmth of his body.
“Is this close enough?” I breathed out, my nose pressed to his collarbone in the opening of his shirt, then shifted my feet to perfectly align our lower bodies, too.
“Ideally,” he whispered into my hair, “your legs should be wrapped around me and my mouth should be on yours—”
“Marcus,” I exhaled, ready to lash out at him for tricking me into a hug, no matter how wonderful it felt to be held by him right now. “This is—”
A warm puff of air hit my face at that moment. It fanned my hair and made me blink. I closed my eyes for a second, and when I opened them again, we were no longer in my apartment.
My ass pressed against a box of printer paper on a shelf, and the air smelled of dust and ink cartridges.
“That’s it?” I couldn’t believe how fast, simple, and rather ordinary this felt.
“No. One more thing.” Marcus lowered his face, his mouth unexpectedly meeting mine in a gentle kiss.
This time I wasn’t fast enough to evade him, or maybe I didn’t try hard enough. His kiss was warm and tender. And I melted into it, without even a thought of fighting it.
His lips brushed by mine softly, as if he were testing my response. Not encountering any resistance from me, he deepened the kiss, the tip of his tongue darting out.
The heat from his mouth on mine coursed through me in waves. He flexed his arms around me, drawing me closer, as the urgency of his kiss intensified. Breathless, I clung to his shoulders, letting it all happen.

Hand in my hair, he tilted my head back to prompt me part my lips wider for him, and with a soft whimper I obeyed. The warm sensation tingling in my chest spread down, pooling somewhere in my lower stomach, with a pulsating pressure between my legs building up.

Only half-aware of what I was doing at that moment, I hooked my leg around his hips, bringing him closer. He groaned, rocking into me, his hands fervently roamed along my body finding a way under my coat. Then I felt him cup my breast, his thumb rubbing my hardened nipple through the fabric of my dress.

A sharp charge of desire speared through me, blinding me with need. Marcus thrust against me harder, and the box behind me shifted, causing me to lose my balance.
With a gasp, I broke the kiss and grabbed on to his arms instinctively, yanked out of the haze of lust at once.
“Marcus,” I panted, my forehead pressed into his shoulder. “Stop . . . please.”

He breathed hard above my ear, his body vibrating with tension, the arm muscles hard as rock under my fingers.
“I wish I could,” he gritted out. “I wish I could stop wanting you, in every fucking way.”
Copyright@Marina Simcoe

Cover reveal February 15th. Unless you're one of my newsletter subscribers, then you've seen it already! :)
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