Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Wednesday Words: To Hunt a Sainte

I'm working on Love in Electric Blue, the third in my Westlake Enterprises series about psychics, danger and love. So I thought it fitting to include a steamy excerpt from the first book, To Hunt a Sainte. (All are completely stand-alone.) Enjoy! 

Two days later, Hunter stood grimfaced in front of a slate blue door and pounded again. He smelled lavender and clenched his jaw at the effort it took to focus on his present course of action. He knew the damned woman was home.
When no one answered after a few more minutes, he set to work. The lock proved no problem, her security alarm even less of one. He’d have a talk with her about that…afterward.
Hunter had tried, but he could no longer avoid the inevitable. This had to stop. He moved silently and swiftly through her open rooms, noting the tidiness of her apartment. Alexandra Sainte decorated sparsely but with a warmth that was inviting.
An eclectic mix of styles accented the cozy feel of a living room well used. A plush leather sofa and matching chair congregated around a teak coffee table covered with home design magazines and the occasional fitness rag. A few plants, all healthy and thriving, sat in her picture window, overlooking a common courtyard. The few bookcases along a far wall boasted an assortment of titles, none of which indicated her preference of reading material.
The sound of water splashing drew him down the hallway and through an untidy bedroom—a surprise inconsistent with the rest of the house. He walked through the doorway into her bathroom and froze.
Even though he’d been expecting it, the vision of Alex covered in bubbles struck him with the force of a physical blow. Surrounded by lavender and warmed by the humidity in the intimate bathroom, Hunter was overwhelmed with a sudden need to touch her golden skin, wet and shining before him. Calling on every ounce of discipline he possessed, Hunter forced himself to remain still and studied the sleepy beauty he couldn’t get out of his mind.
A man would have to be blind not to appreciate her looks—golden hair streaked with honey, exotically slanted eyes that hinted at mystery, and full lips promising everything a man might want. Her body curved in all the right places, yet had a toned toughness that told Hunter she wouldn’t break, even under a bit of rough handling.
The thought aroused him into taking a step forward. Desire engulfed him, and he literally ached, needing to touch her, to be inside that glorious body and discover just what it was about her that captivated him. Only one woman had ever come this close to making him lose control, and look at how that had turned out.
Angered at reminders of the poor choices he’d once made, he locked down his traitorous body and forced himself to handle this—her.
“All right, Sainte. Enough is enough,” he growled.
She shrieked in surprise and sloshed in the tub, allowing him glimpses of slick flesh while she tried to gain her feet. Forcing himself to ignore the impulse to reach out and touch, he handed her a towel.
She grabbed it from him and hastily wrapped it around herself. “What— Who—” She took a deep breath. “How the hell did you get in my apartment?”
He frowned. “You need to update your security. Pretty sad that I managed your locks in less than a minute.”
Slicking her hair back, she regarded him with caution and kept a firm hand on the top of her towel.
He forced himself to look no lower than her chin. “We need to talk.”
“No shit.” Instead of the fear he assumed he’d face, the woman had the nerve to step out of the tub right in front of him. No more than three inches remained between him and her delectable body draped with a thin towel. “You can’t just barge into private property whenever you feel like it, Greye. Now get the hell out of my bathroom. Get the hell out of my apartment!”
“I don’t think you understand me, angel. I’m here to talk. All you need to do is listen.” He stepped closer and inhaled her scent—feminine, floral and damned arousing. Pressed so close, she had to notice his reaction. When her eyes widened, he gave her a grim smile and leaned closer, caught by her tremulous gaze. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he said darkly. “But you keep playing your games.”
“Games?” she parroted, her gaze glued to his mouth.
Disturbingly pleased he wasn’t the only one affected, Hunter strove to focus on the topic at hand. “The coffee? The chocolate? The feel of your soft skin under my hands? Projecting your bullshit is only distracting me from the mission at hand.”
She blinked up at him. “What are you talking about?”
“You know.” He couldn’t help himself and latched onto the firm strength of her shoulders. His thumb brushed the side of her breast, and she gasped. “You’re a beautiful woman, and you know it. You don’t need to play games to get my attention. Just let me handle this job, and I’ll give you exactly what you’ve been asking for.”
Her apparent anger stirred him past reason. Alexandra Sainte in nothing but a towel was bad enough, but in a passionate temper, her energy seethed and drew him like a moth to flame.
“Why you arrogant—”
The little witch thought to challenge him even now? The hell she did.
He kissed past her denial, knowing she didn’t mean it. He could all but sense her arousal as it pulsed through him. Feminine need and anger warred until her rage surrendered to the attraction between them. Everything she felt, Hunter felt as well, until he regained control once more, taking charge of his emotions.
Licking his way past her lips, he plunged his tongue inside and groaned. She tasted like candy, sweet and fresh. Angling closer, he ravaged her mouth, not satisfied until she panted, her taut breasts heaving against his chest.
Yanking the towel from her, he immediately cupped her firm globes, taken with the full swells and hard peaks beading for him. Reason lost to madness as he gave in to the instinctive need to take more.
Breaking from her lips, he leaned down and took her nipple in his mouth. He wanted to purr with satisfaction when she gasped his name and tugged his hair. Instead of pulling him away, she pressed him closer, shifting hungrily beneath him.
“God, Hunter. What are you doing to me?” She moaned again, soft and pliant under his hands.
“You feel like silk,” he murmured, tending to her other breast. He ran a hand over her hip and belly, seeking the heat between her legs. Thrilled when he found what he sought, he thrust one finger deep.
Alex let go of his head to grip his shoulders. “Hunter, please.”
He didn’t know if she pleaded for more or for him to stop, but he didn’t care. He would stop after he’d made his point…just as soon as he could remember what that was.
“You’re hot and wet, angel. So pretty under my hands,” he whispered, chancing a glance into her eyes. They darkened, gleaming like emerald green pools, slumberous yet lit with sexual energy. “Yes, that’s it. Follow my lead. Let me take you.”
“No, I…” She broke off when he shifted his thumb and began stroking that tight bundle of nerves at her core. “Oh, Hunter. Oh, yes. Please,” she begged.
Yes. Please her. Rip away the clothing separating you and please yourself as well.
He pushed at Alex’s will until she crumbled under his touch, helpless to stop the desire exploding throughout her body. She cried his name as she came, stirring his temper anew. God, he hurt. The need to possess her was animalistic, an intuitive need to conquer, the way he used to feel during his days in the military…and during his courtship of Anna.
Not liking this lack of control where she was concerned, Hunter strove to find distance. He withdrew his hand from between her legs and took a step back. Reaching down for her towel, he found it and wrapped it around her.
He made his second big mistake of the night when he looked into her eyes, because he saw not just an erotic playmate, but a vulnerable woman staring out at him. Not liking this need to offer comfort, he strengthened his inner defense with a harsh offense.
“Think that can tide you over until we’ve found Rebecca?” he asked. “Or do I need to fuck you to get the job done?”
The hurt on her face made him feel as if he’d kicked a kitten. But he should have remembered kittens have claws.
Lightning fast, Alex slapped him hard across the face. She fisted her hand by her side, and he wondered if she meant to hit him again, and if he should let her. 

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