The seductive story that started in The Masseuse continues…
Anna Rossi knows that opening your heart only gets you hurt. But Alec Flynn is just too good to resist…
It’s been three long months since Anna’s seen Alec, since he saved her life and lit up her soul with unquenchable desire. Being without him has left her on edge, but his bravery has motivated her to change her life and go after what she’s always wanted—a job where she can help people. She can’t wait to show Alec the woman she’s become in his absence, or to prove how much she’s missed him…
Three months away has done nothing to slake Alec’s need for Anna.
Unfortunately, it hasn’t made his life any less dangerous. The last thing he wants to do is hurt Anna, but if giving her up is the only way to save her, he’s not sure he can do that either. He’s determined to have her for as long as he can. Except his past is creeping up on him faster than he knows, and this time he may not be able to keep her from becoming collateral damage…
Never in my life have I stripped so fast. The t-shirt went over my head and landed on the floor somewhere. I nearly tripped on my pajama pants on my way through the bedroom door. Bursting into the master bathroom, I rifled through my makeup, found the compacts and brushes I needed and went to work. It wasn’t as careful a job as I would have liked, but I got the basics: mascara, smoky eye shadow, and my new favorite lipstick that was appropriately called Orgasm.
I brushed my teeth while I combed my hair, teasing it a little. It was still mostly wet, but I didn’t have time to dry it—not while Alec and his enormous erection were waiting in the hallway wondering what the hell was going on. I giggled, picturing the baffled look on his face as I’d shut the door. He’d understand soon enough.
I pulled the pretty velvet bag from the drawer, hoping Alec hadn’t thought to explore there too, and after a quick deliberation went for the black lingerie. The satin was soft and tight against my skin, and instantly bolstered my self-confidence.
He wasn’t going to know what hit him.
Thanking the universe that the esthetician had had a cancellation yesterday and been able to bump up my waxing appointment, I pulled on thigh-highs and found my best pair of patent leather fuck‑me pumps. One last run through to turn off a few lamps and light some scented candles, and I took my place on the couch, draping my body over the cushions. I should have thought about poses—
Legs open or closed?—and ended up readjusting myself half a dozen times while waiting.
He didn’t knock.
“Come on,” I muttered. I was so hot for him I was starting to get uncomfortable.
With a groan, I rose, and walked to the door. I cracked it, and caught sight of his back as he paced by.
“Knock already!” I whisper-shouted.
He turned toward me, but I was mostly hidden. Quickly, I shut the door, now unable to stop the nervous laughter that bubbled up. Making a last-minute decision to stay there, I cocked my hip out and waited.
He knocked twice.
“Come in,” I called.
The door pushed inward, and he stood, gaping at me like he’d lost the power of speech. I bit my bottom lip seductively and tried to hide the smile. Now this was more like it.
“Fuck me,” he muttered finally.
“That’s the idea.” I trailed one finger between my breasts, which were practically chin level thanks to some well-placed padding. The cups didn’t hide much, and as his gaze became stuck there, I could tell he was thinking the same thing.
“This is what I wanted to do before,” I said.
He took a step forward and slammed the door behind him.
“This is what I wanted to do before,” he said, voice rough.
He was on me before I could take another breath. His hands flew over my body, sliding down the smooth satin, gripping my backside with a firm, demanding pressure. His mouth claimed mine; his lips were hard and wet, and when his tongue plunged into my mouth, he swallowed my hoarse cry.
We battled for leverage, each fighting for dominance, but as his tongue slid over my teeth beneath my upper lip, I gasped with pleasure. He’d never kissed me like that before.
He pulled me against his pelvis, grinding his hard length against my sex while I frantically pulled his shirt up over his stomach. His abdominals flexed as my hands skimmed over them, driving me crazy. I reached for his belt, unhooked it, jerked open his fly.
Wet, frantic kisses trailed down my neck, hitting all the spots that made me wild. Finally, I got his t-shirt over his head and as he shrugged out of it I scraped my nails down his hard pecs.
“Fuck, that feels good.” His eyes were dilated, his breath ragged.
I loved knowing I had this effect on him. That I could make him as crazy as he made me. I wanted to watch him lose control, to see him fall apart, but as one hand swept between my thighs,
I lost the ability to think.
“You’re so hot,” he said. He circled the heel of his hand over my center, the fabric between us now soaked.
“Inside,” I gasped. “Inside. I need you.”
He pressed harder and I shouted weakly.
“I thought about this every day. It felt like I was losing my mind.”
His words stoked the fire, and as his hand pushed aside the thin strip of fabric, my knees buckled. He supported me with one arm around my lower back as his finger made a wide arc around my entrance.
“Yes,” he hissed as I groaned. “I heard those sounds you make in my head. They made me so hard.” He pushed inside. The satin pulled taut against my swollen body, bringing new sensitivity. I gripped his shoulders.
He lifted me, and the air huffed from my lungs as my back slammed against the wall. A framed beachscape fell to the floor with a crash. He leaned into me, his cock still sheathed by the jeans I hadn’t managed to get off. Positioned higher, he had more access to my body and his tongue traced a searing line over the swell of my breast. One hand reached to pull the cup open, but the shoulder strap held tight.
“Rip it,” I said.
He stared at me, mouth a tight grimace. Then he wrapped the thin strap around his finger and yanked, forearm flexing. The fabric scored my skin, and he eased the sting with his tongue as my breasts spilled free, licking a trail down. He circled the tight peak, lapped at it, and finally drew it into his mouth, making me writhe in place still pinned between his hard body and the wall.
“Alec,” I said. And then I shouted his name.
I was so close.
So close, and then weightless.
God I love this trilogy so much! The Distraction is book two in Sierra Kincade’s Body Work Trilogy and picks up where book one left off. This trilogy is an amazing erotic romance trilogy with great characters and a plot that hooks the reader. I love Alec and Anna so much! Their chemistry is explosive and their emotional journey throughout this trilogy has ups and down. I think I loved it so much because the author has a writing style that draws the reader into the characters lives and had me feeling what they were feeling. Sierra Kincade is an amazing new author and I can’t wait for the final book in this trilogy to release later this year. I also hope she continues to write. She’s on my must buy list and I’m now obsessed with her books. Go get these books now! I’ll be begging for a sneak peek at book three I’m sure.
*Review copy provided by Berkley/NAL in exchange for an honest review.
Grab book 1 first!
The Masseuse (The Body Work Trilogy Book 1) by Sierra Kincade
Amazon PBK http://amzn.to/1xzG6ZT
Sierra Kincade lives in the Midwest with her husband and son. When she’s not writing naughty books, she loves eating chocolate cupcakes, binge-watching cable series, and singing loudly in the car. She wholeheartedly believes that love stories are real, and you should never choose a partner who doesn’t make you laugh.
A few of Sierra’s favorite things:
Bad boys with dirty mouths – English Breakfast tea with two packets of Sugar in the Raw – any movie or show with a choreographed dance routine – cinnamon toast – kids who say funny things – friends who raid her pantry without asking – bootleg jeans – making lists – old Garth Brooks songs – and of course, massages.