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Lisa Marie Rice


“Julia edged closer, wondering what kind of vocabulary dogs understood. Frederico Fellini, her cat, was an intellectual and she could talk about books and films to him, as long as it was after he'd been fed, and fed well. She had the vague notion that dogs preferred football and politics.”
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“His dark eyes were hot."Drink the coffee," he growled.Coffee. Right. She had to hold the cup with both hands, otherwise she'd spill the hot coffee all over herself and all over this beautiful bed. She tipped her head back against the headboard and sipped. God, it was delicious. Sharp, yet with a smooth smoky taste. Some outrageously expensive blend, no doubt. She took another sip. Perfect.His hand continued stroking her breast, movements lazy. "Good?" he asked."Wonderful.""Give me a taste," he said suddenly, stretching over to cover her mouth with is. Oh lord, she could simply sink into his kisses. This one was long, languid, the strokes of his hand on her breast echoed by his tongue in her mouth. He lifted his head for a second, then moved in more closely, tongue deeper in her mouth. He lifted his head again and smiled down at her. "It is delicious.”
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“Nick advanced slowly and she backed away. Not out of fear, but out of excitement at the heat in his eyes. She stopped when her back hit the wall and, a second later, Nick's hands slapped against the wall on either side of her head.His head moved down as her eyelids drifted closed. Her head fell back, tipped against the wall. She expected one of his bone-melting kisses, but he stopped just before fitting his mouth to hers. She could feel his hot breath washing over her face."Hello, gorgeous," he whispered.Charity smiled without opening her eyes. "Hello," she whispered back."Did you miss me?"Every cell in her body had missed him. "You have no idea."Nick leaned in, pressing his entire body against hers. "Oh yeah," he said softly. "I have an idea.”
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“You will not compromise ths part of the mission before it's begun, I hope that's clear."Or what?" Nick asked, swiveling back to him."Or I'l fucking cuff you, that's what."Nick bared his teeth. "You can fucking try. And you watch your fucking language. There's a lady here.”
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“I can count on that? That you'll get out of here? Because you look an awful lot like you're about to go cowboy again on me, Iceman. More than you already have, and I can't accept that.”
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“We've had this conversation already and watch your mouth, you fuckhead, there's a lady here.”
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“The sound of a boot heel striking her hardwood floor. The darkness coalesced, gained an outline. A tall, broad-shouldered figure dressed in black stepped forward. A deep voice said, "I won't let you go to Worontzoff's house, Charity.”
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“With a vicious curse, John wrenched the steering wheel and brought the SUV to a sudden halt by the side of the road. He stared ahead, breathing hard, and then lowered his head to the steering wheel. "Fuck." His voice was the merest whisper. He turned his head, eyes bleak. "I can't do this, Suzanne. I can't give you up to them.""You have to." Her heart was cracking open. There was no question of holding back the tears now. "You have no choice."They moved at the same time. She launched herself into his arms at the same moment he opened them to haul her onto his lap. They kissed, violently, hungrily, a meeting of lips and tongue and tears. Her tears. He wasn't crying, but she could feel his muscles tense as rocks beneath her hands.He was holding the back of her head tightly, while eating at her mouth, as if he could fuse them at the lips. His tongue was deep in her mouth. She'd take the taste of him to her grave."Don't go, goddammit. Stay with me." His voice was thick and gravelly. The words came out between biting kisses. "I. Can't. Stand. To. Let. You. Go.”
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“Okay. I don't know how we're going to do this. If I'm not in you inside of five minutes, I'm going to die. My heart will simply explode, and it won't be pretty. But the thing is this - I haven't had sex in a couple years, which creates two problems. One, I don't have any condoms. If I had any condoms in some drawer somewhere, they'd be powder by now. And two, I can't promise to pull out because I'm going to come the second I'm in you.”
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“His son. That funny creature that looked like a skinned rabbit was his son.”
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“Watercress. Jesus. He knew every gun that had ever been manufactured. Every hold in every martial art. This was beyond him. What the fuck was watercress?”
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“They had a fabulous sex life. Drake was an attentive, tender lover who took his time in pleasing her. But every once in a while something in him changed and she caught a glimpse of the truly dangerous man he really was. She hadn’t tamed him, not one bit. He just chose to show her a tender side he said he’d only discovered with her.But sometimes the tiger in him growled and clawed its way to the surface. And then the sex was incandescent.”
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“She would never tell him and was ashamed to admit it, even to herself, but she’d fallen in love with him the instant she’d seen him. She’d been taken at gunpoint to the alleyway outside a gallery showing her paintings and had seen a powerful man, not tall but immensely broad. He was facing three armed thugs and he hadn’t looked frightened at all.He’d looked dangerous.And she’d fallen.”
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“He couldn’t wait—not one second more—and entered her with one long hard thrust. He was so careful with her, always, but this time he couldn’t be careful, couldn’t be gentle; he needed to possess her the way he needed to breathe.”
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“She stepped closer to him, closer still, until her breasts touched his jacket, watching his eyes all the time. “My darling Jack.” She lifted herself up on tiptoe and awkwardly kissed the side of his mouth. “I’m yours. You know that.”His control broke. His hands fisted in her hair and he kissed her hard, almost savagely. He knew he was bruising her mouth but he couldn’t stop himself. It was as if her mouth were giving him life. He would stay alive as long as he was kissing her.”
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“With any other man, Claire would have been a little afraid, his expression was so fierce and dangerous-looking. She wasn’t frightened. This was Bud. He would never hurt her. “Why are you asking?”Bud shifted his hips, pushing forward, moving even more deeply into her. “I want you to be comfortable,” he whispered, “because this is the position you’re going to be in for a long, long while.” His gaze held hers. “I’m going to f#ck you all night.”
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“The rest of what she wanted to say was lost in his mouth. A red mist rose in his head. Fast as lightning, he picked her up, stripped her, pulled off his sweatshirt, pushed his sweat pants down—he deliberately hadn’t put on underwear, either—and embedded his c#ck in her. Just shoved it in because he’d die if he didn’t have his c#ck in her now.”
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“Yes, she, Claire Parks, who by all rights should have been dead these many years, her bleached bones rotting in the cold ground, was turned on. Waves of heat rolled through her body in liquid surges. The heat became almost incandescent in her breasts and in her loins, but her entire body burned and tingled with heat and life.”
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“She whimpered, the sound lost in Mike’s mouth. She was entirely his, completely without willpower or volition. His mouth ate at hers, his shoulders curved in to her like some powerful wall of flesh. He moved his hips against her in short, stabbing movements, hands lifting her hips against his.”
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“Her hand lifted without any volition on her part, as if it were the hand itself that wanted to be held by his. He gently grasped it in both hands, instead of the impersonal handshake she’d been expecting. His hands were as hot as a furnace. Slowly, watching her every second, he brought her hand to his mouth and—oh my God—kissed it.Something inside her, something she’d never even suspected existed, pinged to life. Heat, excitement . . . desire.”
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“Mike felt a tug somewhere in his chest he didn’t ever remember feeling, like someone was pulling at a hook. They were going to take care of this lovely woman. Keep her safe, take her away from danger. And then, well—forget about beating the guy up. Mike was going to find the fuckhead who’d hurt her and kill him.”
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“Hey guys, stop locking antlers. The smell of testosterone is overriding the farts.”
Lisa Marie Rice
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