Excerpt from Ties That Bind
Copyright © 2017 Katee Robert

 

So dramatic.

Maybe that was why he kissed her. The need to regain a little bit control, even in this tiny corner of his life. Or at least, that was what he told himself as he cupped the side of her face and leaned down to brush his lips across hers.

Jack’s good intentions didn’t last past the first touch.

Cora made a soft sound of pleasant surprise. He slid his hands over her hips and up her back, pulling her against his chest, and she came willingly. She went up on her tiptoes and traced her tongue along the seam of his lips.

As if he needed any further encouragement.

Jack kept one hand at the small of her back and cupped the back of her head, tilting her face up so he could take the kiss deeper. Harder. Twelve years and the taste of her still haunted him in the moments between waking and sleep, the memory of her body against his a sensation he couldn’t have erased if he’d tried.

And he hadn’t tried.

He took one step and then another, turning them so her back bumped the side of the house. Their harsh breathing matched the sound of the surf in the background, the wind concealing it from anyone who might be listening. Jack kissed along her jaw. “I missed the fuck out of you, Cora.”

“You can’t miss something you never really had.” The breathlessness in her voice barely lessened the sting of the words.

He lifted his head. A flush spread across her chest and cheeks, her lips extra pouty from his kisses, her eyes a little too wide. “Wrong. I had you. Maybe only for a night, but you were mine for those hours—just like I was yours.”

“I only had sex with you for the damn tape.”

He let go of her, just like she obviously wanted him to, and stepped back. “The first time? Sure. How the fuck do you rationalize that second time?”

 

 

Excerpt from Animal Attraction
Copyright © 2017 Katee Robert

 

“Oh, Brooklyn, something tells me you’re absolutely unforgettable.” The joking slipped away from his expression, leaving only intensity in its wake. The man looked at her as if he wanted to set her on the table between them, yank off her pants and feast on her right there. His wolfish grin had her stomach doing a slow turn. “You’re interested.”

“I’d have to be blind not to be. I mean…look at you.” She waved a hand in his direction even as she cursed herself for speaking without thinking—again. “Were you a lumberjack in your past life? Or maybe Sasquatch’s brother?”

He boomed out a laugh. “Why confine yourself? Maybe I was both.”

Damn it. She wasn’t supposed to like him. Brooklyn took a hasty sip of her mimosa. “How does one come from a family of Sasquatch to being a billionaire dog thief?”

“Alleged dog thief.”

She nodded to concede his point, even though she was one-hundred percent convinced he was the one responsible. It wasn’t what Fisk said as much as the way Levi seemed to conduct his life—the rules were flexible. What she was curious about now was why he’d stolen a million-dollar dog. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the funds to just go buy himself a damn dog without breaking the law. “How many animals do you own currently?”

Levi grinned. “Two dogs, four or five cats, and a very patient iguana.”

That was a whole lot in the way of animals. She frowned. “Four or five cats? You don’t know how many cats you own?” His house was big, but that was just ridiculous.

His smile widened. “Eric is particular. Some days I’m the boss. Most days, he’s the boss.”

“You are…very strange.”

“You aren’t much of an animal person, are you?” He said it like he was inviting her to confess a dirty secret.

Brooklyn shook her head. “I don’t dislike animals. I just don’t have time for them or a burning desire to have one. I work weird hours. I’m barely responsible enough to feed myself, let alone myself and another creature.” Why am I telling him this? I’m supposed to be pumping him for information, not spilling my guts.

“Hmm.” Levi snapped his fingers. “Cat.”

She shook her head. “No, I literally just said that I can’t manage an animal.”

“Yeah, I got that.” He leaned forward, his broad shoulders dominating their small table. “You. You’re the human version of a cat.”

She blinked. “Uh, okay.”

“Run with this. You do your own thing, you like your independence, but if you came home to a warm meal every night, that would be pure bliss.”

That sounded kind of nice. She frowned. “Do you make a habit of categorizing people into animals?”

“Definitely. It’s important to know what a person needs in order to manage the situation to benefit me.”

God, he was incorrigible. She leaned forward despite herself, drawn in by the sheer magnetism of his presence. “And what would benefit you in this particular situation?”

“You. In my bed.” He glanced at his watch. “In roughly forty-five minutes.”