Life was so much easier for Margarite Lancourt before she had set
eyes on Petro Shevenko. Her diploma to teach hearing impaired children would be
in her hand within a year. Then she would find the right man, the right
neighborhood, and bear the right children. Her deafness was not going to get in
the way of her aspirations. But were they her dreams or her mother`s?
Now that she has met Petro, the Wildcats sexy new acquisition who
has an unquenchable thirst for the wild side of life, Margarite`s nicely mapped
out life is in chaos. Can she tame this unruly Russian Wildcat? Or will his
family demons drag him, and Margarite, back into the darkness the couple have
struggled to break free from?
Excerpt~ Adult
A moment later I stood outside the Wolverines’
locker room, my eyes fastened to the sign barring anyone except authorized
personnel. Placing my purse back on my shoulder, I turned the knob slowly. The
aroma of stinky pads, sweaty skates, soap, unwashed man, and old socks hit my
nose. I hurried to close the locker room door. If Petro were in there, he could
stay in there. Rubbing at my affronted nose, I glanced back the way I came.
Something wet hit my arm. I jumped in fright.
Spinning around I saw him,
leaning on the doorway of another room minus his skates and jersey. I threw a
glare at the wet washcloth he had chucked at me. Then I grabbed it off the
dirty floor and flung it back at him. It missed by ten feet or more. Petro laughed
then stepped back into the open door behind him. Down the hall I went, my purse
slapping my hip, my hair bouncing, my eyes locked on my goal.
I slammed into the training center. Massage tables,
cold plunge tubs, and whirlpools greeted me, as did the Russian Romeo. Petro
was shucking off his padding. The door drifted shut. He threw his shoulder pads
to the floor. My mouth filled with saliva. I swallowed roughly then stood
there, rooted to the spot, as he worked on divesting himself of every damn bit
of gear he had on. When he got down to his compression shorts, my legs grew a
little rubbery. Down they came, as did his cup. I ogled his ass. He gave me a
sly look over his shoulder before he walked toward a whirlpool. He took just a
moment to turn the jets on then he stepped down into the frothy water. His cock
hung down the inside of his thigh, growing fatter and longer as I looked at it.
“Come,” he called over the rumble of the whirlpool.
I chewed my lip with indecision. Dare I?
Dark eyes smoldering, prick now rising to the task,
he called to me yet again. I ran back to lock the training room door, and then
scurried past the six massage tables. This rink was bare compared to the new
training facility at the Houseman, but that whirlpool seemed to be in fine shape,
as was the nude man waiting for me with foam and hot water swirling around his
knees. I couldn't undress quickly enough. My eyes roamed over him as I shimmied
out of my panties. His hand took mine. Petro pulled me against him as soon as
my feet were on the bottom of the whirlpool. My fingers took hold of his
sweat-soaked hair. Down I pulled his mouth. His lips roamed over mine. His cock
was pinned between us, hard yet soft. The taste of him was divine,
sinspirational even. The smell of him? Gross. I broke the kiss then tried to
wiggle free. He cocked an eyebrow as if to ask what was wrong. I pinched my
nose shut. The man lifted up one arm to smell his pit. Oh God. Even he made a face. I was then yanked
downward into the hot, bubbling water, his arm never moving from around my
waist.
I slithered free once our skin was wet. He leaned
back, arms on the side of the tub. His head dropped back as his eyes drifted
closed. My legs were resting over his. I decided to do as he had done. My head
rolled back as well. My lashes fluttered closed. There we sat, letting the hot
jets work their magic. I cracked one eye open when Petro slid out of the
whirlpool. His ass and legs were simply amazing. Muscles flexed and rolled with
each step. Water ran between his tight buttocks. My mind filled with wicked
thoughts of nipping that ass repeatedly. He unlocked the door then left. I sat
up stiff as Nana’s back, my hands over my wet breasts. What kind of game was he
playing? Enough time had passed that I was seriously contemplating getting out
when his naked form filled the doorway. He had a bar of white soap in his hand
and that erection that made my mouth water. He stopped only long enough to shut
and lock the door. I was all over his fine ass when he lowered himself back
into the whirlpool.
Buy Links
V.L.
Locey loves worn jeans, belly laughs, reading and writing lusty tales, Greek
mythology, the New York Rangers, comic books, and coffee. (Not necessarily in
that order.) She shares her life with her husband, her daughter, one dog, two
cats, a flock of assorted goofy domestic fowl, and two steers: one named after a famous N.H.L.
goalie while the other carries the moniker of a 60`s pop legend.
When not
writing spicy romances, she enjoys spending her day with her menagerie in the
rolling hills of Pennsylvania with a cup of fresh java in hand. She can also be
found online on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and GoodReads.
Thank you so much for hosting me today, Evelise!
ReplyDelete