Wednesday, 5 October 2011


Today I am sharing an excerpt from Thief, a full length novel available in e-book and print. This isn't the excerpt I generally use for this book and I hope you enjoy the taste of the characters and plot.


Kat uses her female charm and womanly attributes to pinch elite cars for her unscrupulous boss, Carlos. But when John Taylor becomes her latest hit, Kat finds herself at the receiving end of a gentle, expert seduction by a man who’s not all he appears.

Despite their night of passion, Kat has no choice but to take John’s car—Carlos knows where she lives. What she doesn’t bargain on is so does John!

In a week of sex and danger, honesty and kink, the immoral couple become inextricably tangled in one another’s lives. Emotions and desires reach boiling point as they push each other to their limits in and out of the bedroom.

Can each handle the other and will they ever be able to trust one another enough to open their hearts?


“Step out,” he ordered from his crouched position by her ankles.
Obediently, she moved her three-inch heels and let him lift the dress from the floor.
He straightened, stepped past her to the sofa and laid it over the arm as if it was the most delicate fabric he’d ever handled. He walked back over and stood directly behind her again.
She waited.
He was so close yet he wasn’t touching her. He didn’t utter a word. His body heat blasted her bare back and buttocks. The steady stream of his deep breaths washed over her neck and shoulders and tickled like a summer breeze.
She went to turn, wanting to see what expression was playing on his rugged features, but the second she started to twist, pressure was applied to her shoulders as he urged her to look at the doorway to the kitchen again—the kitchen where his car keys lay on the counter, waiting for her.
“You have beautiful skin,” he said quietly. “It’s flawless—honey and silk.”
Kat was about to reply when a swarm of butterflies floated down her neck, kisses so delicate she had no choice but to flutter her eyes and mouth shut. She felt the increasing warmth from his body on her naked skin and his deeply male scent surrounded her like a soft cashmere blanket. An involuntary sigh trickled from her lips.
His fingertips danced down the bones of her spine until they reached her bra strap. The temperature and pressure increased as he undid the small hooks. Kat felt the full weight of her breasts hang heavy. He glided the straps down her arms and she heard it fall to the floor. She dropped her head. The flesh of her breasts looked translucent, veined under the direct beam of the overhead bulb. Her nipples were milk chocolate circles, every bump and wrinkle exposed as they peaked in the cool night air.
A dart of desire shot from her rib wall through the weighty flesh and collected in her nipples as she studied herself. John was back behind her, but she knew it was just looking at herself that was creating the hot circle of sensitivity—she was sure of it. It had nothing to do with him.
A stubbly chin scratched gently into her temple. “You okay?” he asked, looking down at her body from the same angle she was.
“Sure?” His hands slid round her waist, big fingers practically meeting over the gentle curve of her belly as his thumbs touched in the dip of her lower back. He rubbed his thumbs up and down, soothing, reassuring, and a well of tension dissolved in the hollow of her spine she hadn’t even known was there. She rested backwards onto him. He felt so solid and warm, a gentle giant. Okay, so she was going to steal from him soon, spectacularly, but there was no harm in revelling in the feeling of being looked after, cherished. It was a feeling that rarely came her way.
“I’m fine,” she whispered.
“Just fine?” He lifted a hand from her waist and let the thick knuckle of his thumb brush her left nipple, just once, very lightly.
Instantly the little branch of her areola shot out, straining for another touch, begging for it. The weight in her breasts doubled with an unfamiliar feeling of longing. She wanted him to touch the other nipple, wanted him to cover them both with his big hard hands. Every nerve in her chest was crying out for it.
“Better than fine…” she managed. She watched, fascinated, as he moved his hand to her right breast and slowly took the nipple between his thumb and index finger. Very gently, he rolled it to a tense point. The skin puckered and strained farther into a slight twist.
She sucked in another deep breath. The response her body was having to his touch was electric, like nothing she’d ever felt before. This was no quick drunken grope; this was her body being worshipped, indulged. John’s delicate touch was making her knees weak and her stomach clench. She pressed back farther into him, glad of his support as he switched his attentions to her already excited left nipple.
She should just get out of the flat; these feelings were getting too intense. This wasn’t the plan. Why wasn’t he behaving like the other five hits she’d had to sleep with to get their cars? Then it had been ‘wham, bam, thank you, ma’am’—all over and done within minutes. A drunken post-coital sleep, and she’d been free to take whatever her light fingers desired.
She spun in his arms, an excuse to leave forming in her mouth. “I…I ought to…”
His dark brows knitted together.
“I…I…really should…should…” Kat frowned in frustration at her ineloquence; she never suffered from stuttering or a lack of excuses.
“What’s up?” he asked as he bent an arm over his shoulder, fisted his black T-shirt and scraped it over his head in one smooth movement.
It landed on the floor by her bra, instantly forgotten, as were Kat’s excuses. The sight of his wide chest, carpeted with dark coils of hair which trailed to the loose waistband of his jeans had her thoughts of running fleeing to the hills.
Since her head only reached his chin, she was face to face with glorious maleness, and his musky, slightly salty scent hit her full on. She had a sudden, overwhelming desire to push her straining, hungry nipples into the scratchy hair of his chest. She was desperate to know what it would feel like.
“Relax,” he said, twining his fingers into her hair and cradling the back of her skull with his palm. “It’s all good, I promise.”
Kat placed her palms on his shoulders and leant forward for the kiss he was sending down. Her nipples connected with downy hairs on granite muscle. She gasped in surprise; she’d expected a crispy texture, not silken smoothness.
He read her gasp as encouragement and his tongue delved deeper and his hands journeyed to her hips. “Can we lose these?” he asked into her mouth, hooking thumbs into the elastic of her thong as his fingers lingered on her buttocks. “Pretty as they are, I’d rather see what’s beneath.”
Kat spun what he’d said in her mind. She’d been so consumed with the sensations of kissing and his chest connecting with hers she’d barely thought of the next stage. “Er…yeah,” she said, taking a small, tottering step backwards.
John let his hands fall to his sides, let her move away, but he kept his eyes trained on hers, offering calmness and inviting trust.
Kat stood in her heels, hold-up stockings and lacy thong. She looked calm on the outside but inside she was in a state of turmoil. It wasn’t the prospect of having sex with John making her feel this way, it was the desires he was invoking in her. Lust was something she’d never experienced in her paltry excuse for a sex life. Sure, she could tempt, seduce, walk the walk, but actually doing the deed and enjoying it was not for her. Kat found the best pleasures were at her own hand; she had control then. She knew where and how she liked to be touched and trusted herself to control a short, hard climax every time.
But right now, control was slipping away fast. He wasn’t even touching her, just looking. In fact, now he’d sat on the sofa and relaxed back in the cushions with one arm stretched casually sideways and the other resting on his lap. Yet still she felt like he had power over her, even worse, she wanted him to have that power. She wanted to hand herself over to him and trust him to satisfy the tug in her belly. It was an uncharted emotion, and she was unsure how to handle it. She felt both nervous and excited at the prospect of giving her body to John.
“You want me to do the honours?” he asked quietly, with an amused lift of one thick, black brow.
Kat shook her head, dipped her fingers into the elastic at her hips and rolled down the thong. Like string, it peeled down to her knees, and she wriggled and let it drop to the floor around her feet. She stood back up, tall and straight, awaiting his judgement. She swallowed—hard.
He let out a long, low whistle as his eyes travelled lower. “That I like,” he said, tugging at his bottom lip and his eyelids drooping. “Very pretty.”
Kat let her hand travel to the bare, hairless lips of her sex. She was freshly waxed, just the way she liked it, not a stray pubic hair in sight. She rubbed indulgently at the sensitive skin. It felt like two plump velvet cushions, neat and ordered.
“You gonna let me have a feel or is it just for you?” He leant forward with his elbows propped on his knees.
Kat kept her fingers hovering over her slit and took three steps up to the sofa. Her knees felt weak and her heels suddenly felt too high, too unbalanced. She focused on his wide shoulders, rock-hard and square, and his biceps, tough balls of raw power. The snake tattoo on his forearm was highlighted in glorious detail under the hot bulb, its yellow eyes flashing and its red fork tongue licking towards his elbow.
Once she was within reach, he placed both hands on the top curve of her hips and urged her between his bent knees. He leant forward and very slowly, very gently, placed a soft, warm kiss a fraction below her naval.