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An Excerpt From: TWISTED STEEL &
SEX APPEAL
Copyright © M.A. Ellis,
2008
All Rights
Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing, Inc.
Luke’s chair creaked as he leaned forward and Shelly resisted the urge to
look his way, keeping her eyes firmly focused on the water instead. She was
done going down memory lane. Actually, she was pretty much done. The wine had
been a bad idea. It wasn’t mellowing her out. It was making her tense. Tense
enough to realize Luke was staring at her and waiting for an answer.
“What’s so desirable about Oak Street?” he asked, his voice dropping to a
low tone she’d heard many times before, though he was never aware she’d been
listening. Was there anything sexier than a man with a deep voice? Goose bumps
broke out along her arms as her mind answered that question with a resounding no.
Little wonder the door to his bedroom all but revolved! With an arsenal consisting of breathtakingly good looks and a voice
that could melt every bone in a woman’s body? Preoccupied with her
professorship, Shelly had always been somewhat insulated when it came to local
news but the tales surrounding the libidinous
Her gaze strayed sideways to the way his elbows rested on his knees, how
he held the wine bottle in one large hand and traced the foil-raised image on
the label with his thumb, following the edge with slow precision. Her breathing
increased as she imagined how thorough he’d be at other things, how he’d take
his time, how he could focus on one thing and rub it over and over. She hurried
to set her glass aside before he noticed how badly her hand was shaking.
“Killer view,” she finally replied, shocked to hear the huskiness in her
voice.
He moved his arm and she heard the soft thud of him setting the bottle on
the planked porch floor.
“The view is pretty damn stupendous,” he said softly.
The calloused pads of his fingertips brushing her cheek startled her. He
tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, flicking her lobe with his thumb and a
slow shiver ran from the tip of her head down to her toes. She turned her head
sharply and met his gaze.
“What are you doing?” she asked, heart pounding in her chest, its
accelerating rhythm reverberating in her ears.
He studied her features and she felt the tiny flutter in her belly
quicken when he leaned forward and brushed her cheek with his bristly jaw.
“What do you want me to do, babe?” he finally said.
If it hadn’t been for that overused endearment, one she knew for a fact
was his favorite, she would have walked over to the
porch swing, thrown herself down and told him to rock her usually sedate world
until she had slat marks embedded on her butt and a kink in her neck.
“Classic. Smooth as ever,” she said, drawing away from him and narrowing
her eyes. She definitely needed practice on reading signals. “Well, thanks but
no thanks, Scooter. I’m not so desperate that I’m willing to use pity as a
prelude to…whatever.”
His deep, sexy chuckle wrapped itself around her body and, traitorous
little bitches that they were, her nipples came to life.
“I prefer Luke, but if you want to do some sort of teacher-student
fantasy thing or…whatever…I’ll roll with it, Professor.” His long slender
fingers threaded through the hair at the base of her skull, his power
unmistakable as he pulled her head closer and lowered his voice.
“Pity generally doesn’t give me a boner,” he whispered. “But that hot
little once-over you gave me when I climbed over the railing sure as hell has.”
Shelly tried to ease her head backward but he held her steady. His
wine-scented breath teased her lips in warm little bursts. She so wanted to
kiss him. Just throw herself at him and see how he’d
react. She already knew what he was capable of. But would he do all those
things to her? Of course he will…he’ll do it to anyone. That thought
slapped the reality back into her lust-filled mind.
“Anyone with a pair of decent boobs gives you a chubby, Luke Henderson,”
she eventually said.
“A chubby? I haven’t
heard that term in years.” He laughed and brought his lips close enough that
Shelly knew if she stuck out her tongue she’d be able to taste him. And she
knew he’d taste good.
“You can’t make slanderous accusations without backing them up.” He rose
slowly from his chair and pulled her to her feet, sliding his other hand around
her hip and over the curve of her ass as he stepped his lower body into hers. “Prove
it, Professor?”
It wasn’t like the movies or the historical romances she been secretly
addicted to since she was seventeen. He didn’t grab the pale globes of her
rounded flesh, forcefully pull her against his erection and grind against her,
showing her without words how much he wanted her. What he did was much more
subtle…and way more erotic.
It was as if he knew the exact dimension of her hips and legs and thighs.
His body warmed her, yet only the material of his fly touched her—barely—just
enough that she got a hint of the hardness behind his zipper and her knees
began to shake. She was out of her element and she didn’t care for the feeling.
Oh, she loved the way her body came to life—she’d really thought she was past
the point of feeling the long-forgotten rush of want. But as totally revved as
she was, she was too old for the current fuck buddy trend.
Shelly grabbed the hand behind her head. At first, it didn’t budge and
then he let her yank it away, his smile widening when she wrapped her palm
around two of his fingers and tugged.
“Come here,” she said, leading him between the chairs and into her room.
He followed her to the bed and she knew if he hadn’t wanted to be propelled
backward onto the matelassé coverlet it would have
never happened. He was the consummate V of manliness—broad shoulders, beefy
arms, tapered waist. He was built like a small mountain, one she continued to
convince herself it would be disastrous to climb, her reserve slipping a little
at the sudden image of the huge bulge in his jeans becoming the perfect hand
hold.
She looked up and he gave her a lopsided grin, one that said he knew
exactly where she’d been looking as well as possibly having a damn good idea of
the track her thoughts were following. One thing was certain, she had to act
quickly and prove how she knew he was just as predictable as any other male who
embraced the penis-driven life.
“Stay there,” she said, pointing her finger at him. “Listen and learn.”