Sizzling Sunday: Desperate, without shame – #NewRelease #MFMMenage #SizzlingSunday

For today’s Sizzling Sunday post, I have a sexy bit from my brand new release, Wild about That Thing. Hope you like it!

Blurb

She’s always been proud of her sensual nature. Now it seems to have landed her in an impossible situation. Two lovers…and she wants them both.

Ruby Jones has clear priorities. Her teenage son comes first, then her struggling blues club. Her love life ranks as a distant third, despite the efforts of Zeke Chambers to convince her otherwise. Zeke's the lead singer in her house band, a devoted friend, and an occasional lover. He can drive her wild with desire, but can't get her to make a commitment. Deserted by her cheating ex-husband, Ruby's determined she's going to make it on her own. She's hot-blooded like her bluesman daddy, happy to satisfy her physical cravings, but she's not about to let any man into her heart.

The stranger who takes the stage on open mike night upsets the delicate balance in Ruby's world. From the moment Ruby sets eyes on him, Remy Saint-Michel inspires irresistible lust and inexplicable sympathy. Confused, guilty and worried about her prized independence, Ruby decides that the only way to deal with the two men is to push them both away. Zeke and Remy, however, have other ideas.

Explicit Excerpt

“Come up to my office, Mr. Saint-Michel,” she said finally. If they remained huddled in the doorway much longer, she was afraid she might jump him. She led the way through the dim, quiet bar then up the stairs, acutely aware of the way her ass moved under her trousers as she climbed. Was he watching? She knew he was, with the same concentration he’d lavished on her when she’d been on-stage. She was glad she had the appointment at Isaiah’s school—she was dressed more smartly than usual.

“Please.” Ruby indicated the chair opposite hers. “Coffee?”

“No, thank you.” Remy Saint-Michel leaned slightly forward in his seat, legs apart. His hands rested on his thighs. His lips pressed together in a tight line. He was as still as he’d been the previous night. His leather jacket hung loose and open on his broad shoulders. The ribbed jersey he wore underneath revealed the contours of his muscular chest and abdomen almost as clearly as if he’d been naked. Meanwhile his tight jeans made it clear that he was as affected by her presence as she was by his.

He did not speak. He seemed to be engaged in some inner struggle. Maybe he’s having the same problem as me, Ruby thought, feeling giddy. Trying to keep from tearing my clothes off.

Finally, she couldn’t bear the tension. “Mr. Saint-Michel?”

“Call me Remy.” Behind his glasses, his eyes were practically black, but flecked with gold.

“You were here last night…Remy. You sang with the band.” She paused, inviting him to continue.

“Yes…um…” His response petered out. Meanwhile the non-verbal signs were stronger than ever. His fingers dug into the flesh of his thighs. His nostrils flared as though seeking her scent. And the bulge in his groin told her all the things he didn’t seem to be able to say aloud.

“You were amazing. Have you performed before?”

“Not really. Just for friends—and family…” He stopped again. Ruby had a sense of power held in check, and under that…pain. Was he shy? Last night he’d appeared completely at ease, sure of himself. The blues was about opening up and letting the feelings flow. To do that, you needed to be strong. Brave.

“Are you here because you’d like a job, Remy? Do you want to work at the Crossroads?”

“Yes, yes, that’s it.” Relief was obvious in his face. His lips relaxed into a half-smile, revealing perfect white teeth. “I want to work for you, Ms. Jones. I want to sing the blues. No, that’s not right. I need to sing the blues.” He reached for her and her heart leapt into her chest. All he did was grasp her hand, but it was enough to make her melt.

“I understand,” she murmured. She thought she did, too, even though this man was a stranger. She didn’t know his story, but somehow, she knew his heart.

As if by a pre-arranged signal, they both rose to their feet. Remy took a step forward, bridging the gap between them. He pulled her against his chest while his arms encircled her. Ruby tilted her chin, offering her mouth. He bent to press his lips to hers.

“Ruby,” he breathed, drawing her tighter.

Everything about him was smooth—his lips, his tongue, his clean-shaven cheeks, the hands that slipped beneath her sweater to stroke her back. His kiss was like woven silk —soft, rich and voluptuous. She floated, allowing him to feast on her mouth while his fingers roamed over her flesh.

He tasted of anise and smelled of some sharp, herbal cologne. His lean body shifted as he groped, working to unfasten her bra. His rock-hard erection grazed her pubis. She moaned into his mouth.

Her own hands were busy inside his jacket, glorying at the lean muscle she found there. She raked a fingernail lightly across his nipple. He went wild, plunging his hands into her pants to grab her ass and grinding his crotch against hers.

“Wait, wait!” Ruby cried, gasping, afraid he’d tear her best slacks. She broke their clinch long enough to unfasten the waistband, draw down the zipper then push the pants down over her hips.

Remy watched, unsmiling, with that same intense focus that had snared her last night. “I want to see you naked,” he said at last. His voice was velvet and ice, shivering through her.

There was no question of disobeying. It simply never occurred to her. She kicked off her boots, stepped out of her slacks and hung them over the back of the chair. Next came the sweater. Ruby worked as fast as she could, wanting to give him what he’d asked—what he’d demanded—but it felt as though she was moving in slow motion. She reached behind to unhook her bra and her breasts bounced free, the nipples taut and juicy as ripe raspberries. His gaze never wavered as she hooked her thumbs into her bikinis and pulled them to her ankles.

Her lower lips felt hot and swollen. Her clit throbbed, barely hidden by the damp tangle of black curls between her thighs. Remy stared at her. The heat built and built, until she couldn’t bear it.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered. Desperate, without shame, Ruby plunged three fingers into her soaked pussy. A fountain of pleasure gushed in her depths. Her knees almost buckled. Remy noticed. He grabbed her hips and lifted her onto the desk, then stepped back again to watch her. “Continue—please.”

Find buy links for all platforms at: https://www.lisabetsarai.com/wildaboutbook.html