Sunday, 9 September 2012

Sunday Snog




Fame and fortune is a blessing that, for me, has changed its taste from sumptuously sweet to murderously bitter. Leaving me no choice but to look over my shoulder at every turn and question the scruples of even my most faithful friends.

I would give up all the glowing adoration from my fans in a heartbeat in exchange for not running for my life. But fate doesn’t deal cards that way, and instead I find myself far out at sea and being bounced between two hot cops—one so chilly just his glance gives me frostbite, and the other showing a kindness that barely covers his own demons.

So with nowhere else to turn, quite literally, I have to trust two men I hardly know with my life and cope without the luxuries my status usually affords me. But it’s not long before I discover when the going gets tough, the tough get going. Turns out these cops are not only the wrong guys to mess with, they also have partnership skills above and beyond the requirements of their day job. And for once, while just being me without the frills, I get to discover that they are as sinfully bad as they are dreamily good in every department, and it seems, I am the one they want cuffed and controlled at the same time as they are protecting and serving.


Jose was confusing the hell out of me. One minute he swept his gaze over my face as though he was my biggest fan, the next it seemed I irritated every nerve in his body so much that he had to go shower to get me out of his system.
He’d slammed the bathroom door, locked it with a hard snap and then the noise of the hot water pump whirred through the cabin.
“Is he okay?” I asked Dillon, who was gulping back a glass of water and holding a chunk of bread.
He set aside the empty glass and steadied his gaze on me. “Jose is fine.” He bit into the bread.
“But he seemed a little—”
He chewed then swallowed. “He’s fine, all right, just pissed at having his holiday interrupted, same way I am.”
A horrible sinking feeling weighted down my stomach. We were back to that. “I’m sorry, really sorry about your holiday.”
Dillon cut himself a chunk of cheese. “Yeah, I know. Doesn’t alter the fact that all our fucking plans have to change, though, does it?”
Tears suddenly nipped the backs of my eyes and my chest got tight. But I’d be damned if I’d let Dillon see I was upset. That his sharp words and gestures got to me. He had a softer side, I’d seen the tiniest glimpse of it, but it had gone now. Whatever had occurred with the coastguard or Jose, or both, had landed hard, mean Dillon straight back on the boat with me in the firing line.
“I’m going on deck,” he said gruffly, grabbing more bread. “You wait here so I don’t have to worry about your scrawny ass falling overboard.”
I stared down at my lap and nodded, blinked back a tear.
His footsteps thudded up the wooden steps and I caught him muttering something about divas and damn Richie Lockwood.
For the first time since I’d climbed onboard I was alone in the cabin. I glanced around, wondering if I might find a handkerchief. Moving to the galley area, I kneeled and rummaged in the cupboard beneath the sink. Pushing bottles of cleaning fluid and insect repellant out of my way, I spotted a large roll of kitchen paper, plucked a piece from it and stood.
Staring out the window, I blotted my eyes and wiped my nose. Dragged in a deep breath to stop a sob from erupting, and willed my stomach to unclench. What the hell had happened to my life? It was shot to fuck.
“Miss Moore.”
My heart stuttered and I spun. My nose practically bumped into Jose’s hair-sprinkled chest. The tattoo, shaped like an upside down boat with a double sail, was directly in my line of sight.
“You made me jump,” I said, screwing up the tissue in my fist.
He swallowed and stared into my face. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” I went to step back but the sink was directly behind me. I was trapped.
“No, I was rude earlier, and I’m sorry.”
He shifted a little closer and my forearms, raised in front of my breasts, pressed against the heat of his flesh. I was hot anyway, but now, with his skin touching mine and a soapy, male scent floating around me, my temperature rocketed to over-heat level.
“Apology accepted,” I said.
He smiled, just a little. The right side of his mouth twitched and his face softened.
“But you seemed distracted, worried about something,” I said.
He tipped his head.
“And I don’t mean me,” I said hurriedly. “It was like there was something else on your mind. Something that had completely taken over your thoughts and you were seeing it in front of you instead of looking out of the window.”
He narrowed his eyes, reached out and carefully tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear. Grazing his fingertips over my skin and tugging ever so slightly at the hair roots, he watched his movements with steady concentration.
A tingle of sensation swept over my scalp and down my cheek. It had been a long time since a man had touched me in any way other than a polite greeting. Boyfriends had come and gone on my rise to fame, but since Jeremy Field had kissed and told two years ago—nothing, no one. I slept alone, that way my secret desires were safe from the rest of the world.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his minty breath washing over my cheek. “And I don’t mean just to look at. I’m a good judge of character and I can tell you are beautiful on the inside too, deep inside, where it counts.”
“But you’ve been too trusting of your staff, Miss Moore, that much is clear,” he said.
“Dillon said that he would look into that.” I felt completely surrounded, embraced by him. Every sense locked on Jose.
“And he will, we will.” He lowered his head and I could make out each individual eyelash and several tiny freckles on the bridge of his nose.
“Jose,” I said, flattening my hands on his chest. If I didn’t know better I would say the man was just about to kiss me.
Did I want him to?
Hell yes.
My life was so crazy anyway, what did a little more madness matter?
“I don’t want to see fear in your eyes when you’re with us,” he whispered. “You’re safe now, we won’t let anything happen to you.” He rested his palm over my cheek, brushing his thumb over the skin just beneath my eye, the bit that had been damp with a tear a few moments ago. “So no crying, okay? I don’t want to see you cry or get upset or look sad. Everything will be just fine.”
I was losing myself in him. In his words, his resolution, his strength. For the first time in what felt like months I did feel safe, I did feel protected. “Jose,” I whispered.
“Mmm?” He poked out his tongue and swept it over his bottom lip.
“I, I just…” I tensed my fingers against the hard planes of his pectoral muscles, absorbed the power beneath. “Are you sure it will all be fine?”
“I promise.” He swallowed, as if making the promise had dragged his soul to the surface, laid him open and vulnerable.
“Okay,” I whispered.
He dropped his head and brushed his lips to mine. Softly, hesitantly and oh, so sweetly.
Parting my mouth, I savored his flavor. It was fresh and masculine and exactly what had been missing from my life for too damn long. I sighed and opened up for him. Allowed my body to fall onto his.
He scooped me close, deepening the kiss as he wound his arms around my body and lifted me to him.
I shut my eyes and became lost in the beautiful game of hide and seek our tongues were playing. Jose was a kisser of the most talented variety; he knew exactly what pressure and depth to give and his lips were firm yet pliant.
“You taste of heaven,” he whispered, pulling back slightly. “And you feel like paradise.”
He’d lost that distant expression he’d had earlier. Now he was a man full of passion and desire. Looking into his eyes, I realized what I saw there was how I, too, felt. I wanted to hold him, wrap my arms around his solid body and press into him until we merged. The lust in his gaze was only a reflection of my own.
I raised my cuffed wrists and slotted my hands over his head, molded my chest to his and reached for another kiss.
He responded eagerly and I moaned into his mouth as my pebbled nipples scraped through my dress and onto his body. Lower down his erection prodded my stomach, long and thick and bigger than I remembered cocks to be.
“Jose,” I breathed.
“I just want to make you feel better,” he said breathlessly and cupped my butt cheeks, drawing me harder onto his cock. “I can’t bear to see you sad.”
A shot of heat burst across my clit and up my pussy. I was more turned on than I thought possible, and all from a kiss. His mouth, his hands, his cock, on me, in me, was all I could focus on. “Yes,” I gasped. “Make me feel better, please.”
He was kissing me again, more determinedly this time, as though on a mission that he wouldn’t be distracted from. He trailed his palms over my butt, waist and the fronts of my thighs, my dress slipping and sliding beneath his explorations and my tingling body delighting in his caresses.
Knotting my fingers in his hair, I drew him closer still, encouraging him on.
“Wider,” he whispered at the same time as he nudged my feet apart with his.
I did as I was told and was rewarded with pressure over the gusset of my panties. Instantly I squirmed, seeking out his fingertips so I could direct them to my clit.
But I needn’t have worried. Jose knew what I wanted and with a deft move eased my panties down. 
“Forget about everything but me and how I can make you feel,” he said in a low, husky voice. “There’s only me and you and this next few minutes of extreme pleasure.”
He sought my entrance and slipped in through my wetness. As he tickled up against my hotspot the heel of his hand caught on my clit. 
“Oh, fuck, yes,” I groaned, fluttering my eyes shut and dropping my head back.
That is it!
My own hand had been all that had given me pleasure for so long, and a man’s touch, a big, hard, expert touch, was almost too much for my senses to cope with.
“Come for me,” he said, nibbling the skin on my neck. “Let yourself go.” 
He was already building me up, rubbing wickedly over my clit and thrusting in and out. Small wet noises filtered up to my ears, and the scent of my arousal combined with his raw, just-showered scent created an erotic perfume that was surrounding us and growing heavier by the second.
“Jose,” I panted, breaking our kiss and resting my forehead on his right collarbone. “It’s so good.”
“You’re like warm butter,” he said onto my temple. “Soft and silky and Jesus, you’re squeezing me so tight. I don’t know if you’d ever be able to take…God, you feel good.”
I rocked onto him, swallowed him higher, sensations ricocheting through me, my pussy a juicy mass of need gripping his fingers.
Jose’s breaths were hard on my head, ruffling my hair. “I’ve got you, let it take you away from everything.”
What the hell was I doing?
I didn’t care. I had to have satisfaction, now. And if Jose could give me that with his clever fingers then that was what I would take.
I allowed the building pressure to carry me, lift me onto another plane where, as he’d said, only we existed, along with beautiful sensations and a growing pressure that was getting ready to detonate—spectacularly.
Lifting my right left leg, I wrapped it around the back of his knee, wanting to tangle with him as I climbed the last steps to the pinnacle of my need. I tried to smooth my hands down his back, grab his shoulders to hold him in place, but the cuffs prevented me. I grunted in frustration and attempted to snap my wrists apart.
“Easy now,” he said, increasing the pressure on my clit. “Just let it take you.”
I did. In a glorious series of spasms I clenched around his pounding fingers and ground my clit onto his calloused hand. “Yes, yes, yes,” I gasped, squeezing my forearms around his neck and hanging onto him. My knees had given way. Jose was holding me up entirely, partly with his hand in my cunt.
“Ah, fuck, you sound awesome when you come,” he murmured, holding me tighter and forging higher into my quivering channel.
Lights flashed in front of my eyes. My ears rang from the pounding pulse racing through my veins. I stuck out my tongue and licked his tattoo. From the base right to the top, using the flat, wide part of my tongue to ensure I captured his flavor—salty and spiced, soap, sun and sea breeze.
He stilled, so did I. Our chests rose and fell, bashing into each other as we struggled to catch our breaths.
As I landed back down from my high, I became aware of his cock straining into my stomach. “Jose,” I said, raising my head.
His dark eyes glistened down at me and he curled his lips into a self-assured smile that practically burst with male satisfaction. “What?”
“I’m sorry, I…I got carried away. It felt so good and you…” I paused to gulp in air.
“And I?”
“And you touched me just right. It’s been a while and that was—” I shifted my gaze from his, unsure of whether or not to tell him just how long I’d relied on myself for satisfaction. The great singing beauty, India Moore, had only a box of toys to keep her company on lonely nights.
“And that was exactly what you needed?” he asked, kissing the tip of my nose.
My breaths were still fast and shaky. “Yes, just what I needed, but I’m sorry. You haven’t…”
He crooked his index finger and rested it beneath my chin, encouraged me to look up at him again. “Feeling you come on my hand is as much as I need. For now.” He moved his fingers within me, fluttering over my swollen, puffy G-spot.
“Oh, God,” I groaned. “We probably shouldn’t have done this.”
“Too damn right you shouldn’t have.” Dillon’s deep voice echoed around the cabin like a rumble of thunder.
I snapped my attention from Jose to stare at the entrance.
Dillon stood there, one hand on his hip, the other bunched into a ball at his side. The sunlight sharded down behind him in long, sharp splinters, rendering him a silhouette.
I wriggled in Jose’s arms, tried to unwind myself from him.
But he was un-moveable, and simply applied pressure to my chin and forced me to look at him again.
“Jose,” I hissed, absolutely mortified at being caught in this compromising position. “Please, let me go.”
“No, what we just did felt right, and damn it felt good, really fucking good. So no regrets, Miss Moore, no damn regrets, ever.”

Get you FREE copy here

And if you enjoy Good Cop, Bad Cop, check out mine and Natalie's other co-author novels.

Have a wonderful Sunday

Lily x


  1. Already own all three but happy to spread the love..Posted about your freebie on fb..