[Today I'm sharing a sneak peek at Lisa Fox's new paranormal erotic romance, A Matter of Lust. Sounds like fun to me... ~ Lisabet]
Blurb
Trask
is a lust demon on the hunt for a playmate, a human exceptional
enough to sate some of his ravenous hunger. When he finds Rena, he
knows that she is the one he must have. He makes it his business to
seduce her.
Rena
is immediately drawn to Trask. She could easily fall for the
dangerously sexy bad boy who makes her scream every time he makes her
come, but the problem with bad boys is that they’re actually bad.
They break girls’ hearts and hers has been broken too many times
already. One more crack might shatter it forever.
Trask
claims Rena for his own, but she needs more than just sizzling sex.
She wants to trust him, but can they ever share anything more than
lust?
Excerpt
The deep, melodic
trance music vibrated through Trask’s body as he prowled the
crowded dance floor. He was hungry, so very, very hungry, and the
time had come for him to find a willing partner for the night. Any
one of the mortals undulating around him would have sufficed, but so
far none of them appealed to him. The need gnawed at his insides, but
he waited, searching for the one. Over his long years among the
humans, he’d learned that it always paid to be a little bit
discriminating. It made the feast so much more gratifying.
He sidestepped
around a young woman, his shoulder accidentally brushing against
hers. He felt her body temperature rise as he passed, the lust that
had been simmering just below the surface swelling to a fevered pitch
within her. She grabbed her companion and kissed him ferociously,
shamelessly rubbing herself against him. She wasn’t the only one
affected by his presence either. Potent waves of raw sexual energy
radiated from him, infecting the air around him, threatening to turn
the club into one giant orgy. Trask smiled at the thought.
He cruised the dance
floor, reveling in the exquisite thrill of his hunt. Human lust was
such a decadent treat, so very different from the desperate lust of
the damned in hell, and it filled this ordinarily dull world with
brilliant light and added depth to the darkest shadows. He could feel
it oozing from the dancers, the men and the women, sweating and
panting, touching and grinding, their bodies writhing in time with
the music. Tension built in his groin and he welcomed the pure,
straining delight.
He stopped suddenly,
the prickling at the base of his spine alerting him to the presence
of another demon nearby. Not a lust demon like himself, but something
similar. Pride maybe, or perhaps wrath? He couldn’t quite get a fix
on it. He waited, wondering if it was going to make contact. Often
other demons haunting and hunting the human realm wanted to meet, to
plot and plan and scheme, to “raise some hell” or whatever, but
he got the impression that it was occupied with something else
entirely. Which was just fine with him. He’d never been the social
sort.
The music changed
and a thumping bass beat poured out of the speakers. Trask shook off
the psychic residue of the other and worked his way toward the bar.
He ordered a bourbon on the rocks and leaned back, happily absorbing
the intoxicating atmosphere while scanning the crowd for his
potential playmate.
His gaze fell upon a
woman on the edge of the dance floor in a short, black dress that
hugged every curve of her luscious body. Her violently dyed red hair
was piled high on her head and sexy tendrils escaped to frame her
heart-shaped face. There was a hint of rosy flush on her smooth,
round cheeks and the way her hips swayed to the music made his cock
stir.
Trask placed his
drink aside and unconsciously ran his tongue over his teeth as he
glided toward her. She was tall, probably close to six feet in her
heels, but he still had to lean down to whisper close to her ear.
“Hello,” he purred, breathing in her clean scent of shampoo and
roses and woman.
She turned slowly
toward him, her gaze roaming over his face, his body, and he got the
distinct impression that she was mentally undressing him. He
certainly hoped she was. She obviously liked what she saw because a
smile blossomed on her glossy, pink lips. “Hi.”
The instant,
piercing sexual tension between them made his blood surge. He reached
out with a fine strand of psychic energy and lightly dipped into her
primal core. Trask hissed as desire coiled in his groin. She was
sweet ambrosia, a succulent feast just waiting to happen and his cock
ached to sink inside her, to make her come again and again while he
fed on all that glorious lust. “You are very beautiful,” he said,
savoring the tiny taste of her fire.
“Uh-huh,” she
said, mischief and humor making her eyes sparkle. “Tell me
something I don’t know.”
Trask laughed. He
liked this woman. “I think I might be in love with you,” he said,
beginning the game. It was a line that had worked many times
before—the humans always seemed enchanted and amused by the
concept, but it was a hollow sentiment, something meant to elicit a
grin and nothing more. But as the words left his mouth, they felt
different this time, almost as if they had…weight.
“Are you sure it’s
love you feel?” she asked, a smile dancing along the corners of her
mouth. Her eyes flicked down to his crotch. “Or something else
entirely?”
“Now I know I’m
in love,” he replied, the lust coursing through his veins. She was
perfect. Fun. Bold. Smoking hot. And she was going to be his. All
night long. He reached out and traced the curve of her cheek with his
index finger. Her skin was flawless, warm and silky. “What’s your
name?”
She paused and an
odd, little smile formed on her lips. “Does it matter?”
Normally it wouldn’t
matter—in fact, there was no reason why it should matter, but for
some reason it did matter. It mattered a lot. “Yes.”
Her smile changed,
softened, and Trask was awestruck by just how simply beautiful she
was. “Rena. My name is Rena.”
“Rena.” He liked
the way it rolled off his tongue.
“And what about
you?” she asked, leaning closer to him. He looked straight down
into her very ample cleavage and took his time enjoying that
magnificent view. His fingers itched to caress that soft skin, to
feel the weight of her full, round breasts in his hands. “Do you
have a name? Or should I just call you the sexy Darkman of my
dreams?”
“I do like the
sound of that.” He wondered if his presence was affecting her,
making her more daring than she’d normally be or if this was just
her nature. He had the power to inspire humans to say and do
outrageous things simply by standing beside them. His gaze touched on
her flamboyant red hair and he thought—hoped—that it was her and
not a consequence of his influence. “But Trask is so much shorter
and to the point.”
“Trask,” she
said, and he had to admit, he liked the way his name sounded on her
lips. He couldn’t wait to hear her scream it. Her eyes trailed over
him, her gaze a provocative caress that sent hot, tingling ripples
down his spine. “So, now that you’ve declared your love, what
happens next?”
“Oh, you know, the
usual.” He caught hold of a loose strand of her hair and twined it
around his fingers. The tension between them rocketed up a few
notches and he inhaled the essence of her arousal, breathing it deep
into his body, relishing the flavor of her. “A whirlwind romance,
storybook marriage, honeymoon in Paris.”
“Followed swiftly
by a quickie divorce in Mexico, right?”
Her voice was tinged
with unmistakable venom and the bitterness sliced through the hazy,
plush cloud of their lust. Startled by the mental slap in the face,
Trask dropped his hand back to his side. Darkness deepened around him
as anger settled in. He did not like this turn of events at all.
“What makes you think I’d do anything quick with you?”
“I see,” she
said, and he watched her features soften as her mood shifted. Humans
were so extraordinarily complex. He didn’t think he’d ever
understand their ability to feel so much, so quickly and thoroughly,
even when those emotions were completely contradictory. Demons were
defined by their desires, embodiments of the thing they hungered
after. There was never a reason for a demon to feel anything more
than his driving need. Everything else just got in the way of the
goal.
Her bitterness ebbed
away, gone almost as quickly as it had come, and she favored him with
a dazzling, flirtatious smile. “You’re a slow-and-steady kind of
guy then?”
“Oh yes,” he
said, returning her grin. “And I always win in the end.”
She laughed, a
lovely, musical sound that tugged at his insides. She leaned into
him, a whisper of space between them and he could feel the heat of
her body on his skin. “Hmm,” she said, and bit down on her lower
lip. Her fingers flitted over his collarbone. “I do like
confidence.”
He caught her hand
and brought it to his lips. “Then you’re definitely going to like
me.”
About
the Author:
World-renowned
neurosurgeon, jet fighter pilot, secret member of American royalty,
seducer of legions of beautiful, outrageously sexy angels and demons
and vampires and werewolves and the occasional pirate, Lisa Fox has
done it all…in her own mind. In reality, she can generally be found
at her desk with a cup of coffee close at hand. Or maybe a martini.
It really depends on the day.
Feedback,
comments, opinions, words of wisdom, chocolate cake and the addresses
of super hot men are always appreciated and encouraged. Please feel
free to contact Lisa any time.
Twitter:
@LisaFoxRomance
In other
news (yes, I do have other news!), my story Like Riding a
Bicycle will be out next month as part of Rachel Kramer Bussel's
anthology Anything for You: Erotica for Kinky Couples.
You can read the blurb on
my 
