I’m anxiously awaiting the first review for Satan, Hades Squad #5. So, I figured I’d share an excerpt today:
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“This Destiny can really cook. She should be a chef.” She reached for a roll, tore the bread in half, and tossed the other half back into the basketbowl.
“She’s a romance author. Says she’d never want to be a chef ’cause cooking’s her hobby, and she doesn’t want it to be work.” He snatched what remained of her torn roll.
“A romance author? Wait a minute. Are you talking about Destiny Driven? Jess’s bestselling client? I’ve read a couple of her books. She’s excellent.” She dipped her bread into the stew and loaded the gravy-sogged crust with yummy beef chunks.
“She is. We’re all proud of her. Feed me some.” He waggled his eyebrows.
“You have hands,” she teased, but batted her lashes at him.
“But it tastes so much better coming from you.” He faked a pout.
“You’re going to nag me until I do, aren’t you?” She loaded another spoonful of the bourguignon.
“You bet.” He grasped her wrist, lifted the spoon, and slurped nosily.
“Thief.” She waved the shiny cutlery at him.
“You’ll pay for that.” He shook his head, grabbed his spoon, picked out mushrooms, onions, and beef cubes.
“For what? Calling a spade a spade? You did ‘thief’ my stew.” She enjoyed their easy bantering.
“I borrowed a mouthful. I’m upping the ante on my pussy eating tomorrow. You’ll have to come a total of five times and beg for mercy.” He mugged a leer.
She burst into a mini giggle-fit at his ogling expression. “Five times? What are you—an orgasm Olympian gold medal winner?”
“Triple orgasm Olympic gold winner—forced into semi-retirement and coming back big time.” He tucked a lock of her hair behind her ears and studied the curly strand for a moment. “Darlin’ whatever that keratin hair straightening stuff is, it ain’t working.”
“Oh, believe me, it works. My hair without the keratin is sheer frizz.” She held her hands out about eighteen inches on either side of her head. “This is where my hair would be without it.”
“Can’t imagine it.” He fingered one lock lying on her breast. “I wish I had black sheets. I’d love to arrange you on black satin with your glorious ringlets fanned on the fabric. Your skin’s so soft and such an incredible hue. Damn, I’m leaking just thinking about it.”
So was she. It took a grim determination not to check the crotch of her sweats for dampness. Her folds were slick, her nipples burned, and her clit throbbed. She hunted for a non-erotic topic. “So, Destiny’s married to your friend.”
“Yeah. Open up.” He fed her more food. “Linc Chapman’s been a friend since middle school. We served together in the Teams, and we’re now partners in business.”
She chewed slowly, swallowed, and sighed the sigh of a contented foodie. “Teams?”
“We’re both retired SEALs. Teams are how we operate and how we refer to ourselves.”
“Oh. And he and you are in the security business you mentioned before? It must be terrific to be your own boss. No politics.”
“Yes, we’re in business together. We try to keep the ass-licking to a minimum.” He darted her a sharp squint. “There’s a lot of politics in a charity organization?”
“Enough.”
Angel realized that they’d continued feeding each other as if it was a normal habit only after they finished the salad.
“More wine?”
She shook her head. “I think my go button just stopped.”
“Your go button?” He ran the back of his hand along the line of her cheekbone.
She adored the way he continually touched and caressed her.
“I have three modes, go, fast forward, and dead stop.” She had a full stomach, and the wine had her feeling a tich tipsy. The whole situation, Satan, their easy camaraderie, the coziness of the setting, all combined to dissipate any tension left in her body.
“There’s no normal mode?”
“Nah. Normal feels like slow-mo to me.”
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Hope you enjoyed! Have a marvelous Monday!
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