Taking Her There Read online

  “I thought I was going to have to mark my territory back there.” She pouted.

  He chuckled. “I think everyone was well aware of who I came in with. If you weren’t standing beside me the whole time, I think they would have forgotten all about me.”

  “I doubt that. In fact, most of the women there only spared me a glance to size up the competition.”

  He cupped her chin and forced her gaze up to his. “Angeline Rowe? Jealous?”

  “Well, you did have that pretty young intern beside you at lunch…”

  “And a beautiful movie star on my other side”—he lowered his voice—“who kept reaching under the napkin on my lap…”

  “No one could see.”

  “Maybe not your hand, but there’s no way they could have missed my reaction.”

  “I just happen to like your…reaction.”

  He growled.

  She smiled, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I’m so proud of you. But now the secret’s out, and I’ll have to make an appointment to see you. Maybe the Daily Mail was right. You’re too good for me.”

  “The Daily Mail hasn’t seen you at your finest like I have.”

  “Oh? You mean first thing in the morning, when I have bed-head and dark circles?”

  He smiled down at her. His expression so tender it almost made her chest ache.

  “That’s when I find you the most beautiful. Your eyelids heavy from sleep, your cheeks rosy, your hair a wild array, making you look completely beddable.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Beddable? Is that even a word?”

  “Sure it is. Also, the Daily Mail doesn’t get to see the passionate woman strong enough to ignore the hateful things in the news, funny enough to keep me smiling and intelligent enough for meaningful conversation as we sit in front of a fireplace with marshmallows on our roasting sticks.”

  “I don’t remember much conversation in front of that fireplace, but I do remember the passion.” In fact, the next day, Angeline’s new housekeeper had berated her about the melted marshmallow stuck to the plush carpet fibers, but all Angeline could do was giggle like a little kid.

  Angeline closed her eyes and wondered how the hell she’d gotten so lucky. In the past two weeks, he’d played the part of friend, lover and even addiction counselor. When he held her through a flashback, whispering all the right things, Angeline knew she was in serious jeopardy of losing her heart.

  “It still seems so surreal. The cameras, the questions… I don’t know how you do it every day.”

  She grinned. “If you hate it, you could always turn into one of those recluse artists. Live off of raw meat and home-grown carrots. Scream at anyone who sets foot on your lawn…”

  “I knew you wanted a kept man. Not gonna happen, Angel.”

  “Maybe just for tonight?” She leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I bought some new silk scarves…”

  “Is that right?” He spoke low, his breath tickling her earlobe. “Are those for me?” He kissed the shell of her ear, then her jaw. “Or for you?”

  “We can take turns.”

  He leaned down to kiss her, and with her bare toe, she pushed the mute button.

  About the Author

  Olivia Brynn is the very saucy alter ego of romance author Alanna Coca. Olivia was the one who lured Alanna into trouble as a child. She also would have been the one to get her mouth washed out with soap. Since controlling Olivia wasn’t easy, Alanna realized what fun Olivia had writing sexy romances without censor, so she set her alter ego free with Olivia’s first book, For a Price, a story about one woman’s journey to sell her virginity. Other books followed, earning five-star reviews and bestselling status. Olivia writes contemporary erotic romance near a window where the view of the Rocky Mountains beckons her. Visit www.oliviabrynn.com and email Olivia at [email protected]. She can also be found on twitter @OliviaBrynn and Facebook at www.facebook.com/oliviabrynnauthor.

  Look for these titles by Olivia Brynn

  Now Available:

  Position Secured

  Last Call

  When sparks flare, stop, drop and roll with it.

  Last Call

  © 2012 Olivia Brynn

  When Eric Layton lunges for his ringing cell phone in the middle of the night, he’s halfway to the door before he realizes it’s not his chief summoning him to an out-of-control fire. It’s an out-of-control woman who’s too tipsy to figure out she’s dialed the wrong number. But the line goes dead before he can explain he’s not her brother.

  His conscience won’t let him leave the woman to wait for a ride that’s never going to come. Yet nothing prepares him for the chemistry when he helps Joanne into his truck. She’s curvy, blonde, and vulnerable—a three-alarm warning to do the right thing and keep her at arm’s length.

  Still keeping watch over her through the night sounds reasonable. Until she awakens, and desire burns reason to a crisp…

  Warning: Contains explicit sex scenes that may be too hot for summer reading. Author recommends you check to make sure your air-conditioning is in working order and turned up full blast.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Last Call:

  Joanne smiled. Waking up in the warm embrace of a man had to be one of the best things in life. She snuggled against the hard body. Clothes? Andrew?

  She opened her eyes and looked up into the face of the man in bed with her. Angled jaw, whiskers, full lips slightly parted, and strong brow. It wasn’t Andrew. It was Kevin’s friend Joe, who had picked her up from the bar.

  She moved closer and closed her eyes again, listening to his deep, even breathing and the steady beat of his heart. Not many men would have driven across town to pick up a friend’s little sister. Or treated her with the compassion he had. Kevin must be a very good friend of his. She’d have to grill her brother about this guy. She thought she knew all of his friends. Maybe Kevin was keeping her from him, knowing she’d be lust-struck.

  But he had sent Joe to the Ranger.

  She smoothed his T-shirt over the hard curves of his chest. Breathing in the faint remnants of his cologne, clean and masculine, like sandalwood and hickory, was a reminder that she didn’t know him from Adam.

  But he did smell nice.

  And he looked nice too. Chiseled features softened only by sleep and a shadow of whiskers. A long, narrow nose, slightly crooked—she imagined it had been broken at least once. Even his Adam’s apple appealed to her. She traced the stubbly protrusion with a finger, fascinated at the movement when he swallowed. Still, he slept.

  She slipped her hands beneath the T-shirt, encountering a smooth back. Very nice. Is the front smooth too, or…no. Mm. Crinkly soft hair. She found a nipple in one tuft and used the pad of her middle finger to tease it until it grew erect. When that wasn’t enough, she gathered his shirt until she could dip her head beneath the sheet and taste that nubbin.

  He groaned, and his hips bucked against hers, but he didn’t wake up. Joanne smiled and moved to the other nipple.

  Her head still buzzed from too much alcohol, but this she knew. This she could focus on. Salty male skin against her tongue. She trailed her lips down rippled abs and reached…damn. Jeans. Undaunted, she worked on the button, then the zipper, which made a delicious sound in the quiet apartment.

  She walked her fingers beneath the flaps of his fly and under the waistband of his underwear until his hot flesh filled her palm. The musky scent of man filled her nostrils and made her mouth water.

  He sighed, rolling onto his back. She followed, engulfing the tip of his cock in the same movement. She wasn’t sure if he still slept, but his hips answered each pull of suction. When his jeans and underwear got in the way, she held him in her mouth and used both hands to bring them down below his hips.

  “Mm.” Perfect. His balls were free. She reached down to cup them in her palm, roll them with her fingers. She wrapped her free hand around the base of his now fully erect staff and squeezed.

  “Holy shit.”

 
He was awake. She smiled as much as she could with her mouth full. His need was so sexy, and her sex swelled and grew slick with her own desire.

  Unable to move his lower half with his jeans halfway down his legs, he ran his hands over her arms and shoulders until they finally found purchase in her hair.

  Drops of his saline desire melted on her tongue, and she swallowed it down. Her lips massaged around the rim, then slid down his length, encasing him in her mouth. Sucking her cheeks in, she pulled back, moaning when he clenched handfuls of hair. “Josie. You shouldn’t… Christ.”

  “I should.” She trailed wet kisses down to his balls and back up to take him to the root again. He filled her mouth. His tip kissed the back of her throat, and she swallowed, letting her tongue dance along the base of his cock.

  He hissed. She hummed. He groaned and pumped his hips.

  His balls were heavy in her hand, and she played with the hard spheres inside the soft hair-smattered sac. Using her own saliva to lubricate her twisting hand, she found a rhythm that harmonized her mouth and hand.

  He murmured words she couldn’t understand, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that he gave himself to her. She pleased him. She wasn’t a failure. Now to make him come. Her mind might be swimming, but she knew that to swallow his pleasure would be the ultimate power. The proof that she was a desirable woman.

  With that burst of pride, she sucked harder and pumped her hand along his shaft.

  “Josie. No. No…stop, stop.”

  She was pulled up by her shoulders, his cock slipped from her mouth, and she whimpered.

  “No. Josie, you can’t,” he continued. “You’re drunk.”

  “I want to.” She kept her eyes closed, but she held his cheeks in her hands and spoke against his mouth. “I need this. Let me show you.” His face was rough. She outlined his stubble with a finger, dipping into his mouth when she reached it. She traced the edge of his teeth. “Kiss me.”

  He did. A rough desperate kiss that took over her whole body. His tongue swept her mouth, stroked every inch, confident and sure. She moved closer and wrapped her arms around his neck. She needed this. The validation from a man that she was a desirable woman. Deep down, she knew it was wrong to ask, but her inhibitions were sufficiently muffled, and with the level of desire running through her veins, she went for it.

  “Inside me,” she gasped. “I need you. Help me. Show me I’m okay. Please.” She kissed him and hooked his hips with her ankles, bringing him against her. Clothes. She reached down to remove her underwear but found his arousal instead. She wrapped her hand around him and stroked him slowly with a milking pull.

  “No, Josie. We can’t. You need to stop, you’re killing me.”

  “Please.” She opened her eyes and caught his gaze. His eyes wide, nostrils flared. He might be in control of himself but barely. “I’m not drunk. I know what I’m doing.” Okay, that wasn’t exactly true. The bed still spun a little.

  He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then opened them again and shook his head. “You’ll regret it in the morning. I never want to be a regret.”

  Taking Her There

  Olivia Brynn

  The spotlight she craves could burn him alive…

  When Angeline Rowe emerges from six months in court-ordered detox, she isn’t surprised the paparazzi are waiting for her. But when she ducks into her car, eager to return to the comforts of home, she is surprised to see the familiar face of her driver.

  Now that she’s sober, it’s nice to discover that he’s easy to talk to. In fact, he’s quite a flirt.

  Starving artist Andre Salidas had to be begged to come back to work for “Hurricane Angeline”. Yet the snobby actress who fired him in a drunken rage is not the same one sitting in his car now. She’s fragile, vulnerable…intriguing.

  Once back home, a little push and pull, back and forth pushes their flirtation to the next level. A few orgasms later, Andre has found his muse—until a cold blast from her past threatens to blow out the fire they’ve ignited.

  Warning: Contains a mercurial actress and an artist who needs a little heat to get his creative juices flowing. Drop cloths recommended.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B

  Cincinnati OH 45249

  Taking Her There

  Copyright © 2013 by Olivia Brynn

  ISBN: 978-1-61921-735-5

  Edited by Linda Ingmanson

  Cover by Kanaxa

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: August 2013

  www.samhainpublishing.com