Welcome to this week's Sunday Snog. I thought I'd serve up another quick kiss from Nasty Business.
After you've enjoyed my snog, head over to celebrate Snog Day with Victoria Blisse and all the other eager authors who have spicy kiss excerpts for you to enjoy.
Ruby Maxwell Chen, the beautiful and ruthless CEO of a huge British
business empire, is used to getting her way. When she encounters
American entrepreneur Rick Martell, though, she wonders if she hasn't
finally met her match.
From the trendy clubs of London to the Hollywood Hills, Ruby and Rick
compete for ownership of a strategic factory in Malaysia. Neither has
any qualms about using sexual wiles to smooth the path to
Neither anticipates that their mutual attraction will turn into
something more intense and difficult to control
So I've come to Los Angeles alone this time, to conclude the transfer of Rick's company to the Maxwell fold. If I am honest with myself, I admit that I've also come to deal with some other unfinished business with Rick Martell.
It's a glorious day. The sun is hotter and closer than it ever is in England. There's a smart breeze that whips my hair around my face and leaves me strangely breathless. Like champagne, Rick had said, and I can feel it, tingling bubbles bursting in my chest, singing through my veins.
We don't speak. There is no need, and in any case, the wind would carry our words away. There is the splash of the waves against our bow, the wailing of gulls, the snap of the canvas as the wind shifts directions. Catalina Island is a low-lying shadow on the horizon ahead. The coast has disappeared behind us, though a yellowish band of smog marks its presence.
Rick and I are alone in the middle of the sea. I feel strangely relaxed, though the lust that he always inspires is humming in my limbs. I steal another glance at him, tanned, confident, in control. It's difficult to reconcile this with my memories of him squirming beneath me as I reamed his poor virgin arsehole.
He must feel the weight of my gaze, for he looks up at me and our eyes lock. He grins that annoying, delightful grin of his, full of arrogance and mischief. Fearful anticipation shivers up my spine.
He hooks a loop of rope over the tiller. "I thought perhaps we might stop here for a while," he says softly. Before I completely digest his intentions, he has lowered and secured the sails. The Stella Maris drifts, rocking gently in the swells. I am suddenly afraid, realizing that I am isolated and alone with this man who is, as I know very well, dangerous. A taker of risks. Looking around us, I see other sails, but they are too distant to call to, too far away to see anything other than the pennants on our masts.
"Now, Ruby," he whispers as he takes me in his arms, "you are at my mercy."
Despite his words his kiss is gentle, almost worshipful. When he touches me I comprehend how badly I have been longing for this. I melt into him, open myself to his tongue and his fingers, which find their way unerringly to the aching chasm between my thighs. Yes, please, I beg silently, grinding myself down on his invading hand. He slides the other hand under my tank top and gives my nipple a harsh twist, muffling my cries with his mouth.
Everything is heat and wetness, the sun, my sex, his lips at the hollow of my throat, his tongue teasing my earlobe. His breath is hot in my ear.
"Let me take you, Ruby. Let me bind you. Let go, for once, fully and completely, and allow me to show you who you really are, who you can be."
I break away, panting, search his face. There is no mockery in his velvet eyes, no arrogance, only pure and burning desire. My knees are rubber. I want him, want what he's offering, even though I am afraid.
"Trust me, Ruby," he murmurs in my ear, "as I trusted you."