Take the Heat
by Skye
Warren
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
BLURB:
The
ultimate bad boys, criminals capture our attention and awaken our darkest
desires. Celebrate the illicit in this romantic suspense anthology, where
handcuffs are used for more than play. These stories are shocking, sexy, and
thought-provoking.
In
New York Times Bestselling Author Skye Warren’s Magnolia Hotel, meet the
heroine who pays her brother’s debt to a loan shark—who happens to be her
childhood crush. Find out if the jury made the right decision in Acquitted by
award-winning author Giselle Renarde. Explore a dark and sensual psychology
with New York Times Bestselling Author Pam Godwin in Unlawful Seduction.
Ride
the edge of desire and see if you can TAKE THE HEAT…
Skye
Warren – Magnolia Hotel
Cynthia
Richards – Captivated
Pam
Godwin – Unlawful Seduction
Sheri
Savill – Slipknot
Shoshanna
Evers – This Might Hurt A Bit
Candy
Quinn – The Bombshell
Tamsin
Flowers – Playing with Fire
Elizabeth
Coldwell – Disposing of Donnie
Audrey
Lusk – Surprise Witness
Trent
Evans – Last Day
Giselle
Renarde – Acquitted
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FROM “SLIPKNOT” BY SHERI SAVILL
Leather. Sexy and tight. Perfect. Yep, this is the one. This
is the one I’m taking.
Mia took a deep breath and, in one smooth move, rolled and
tucked the metal hanger—and the soft black leather miniskirt still clipped to
it—into her black shoulder bag. Right over the open zipper and down into the
gaping hole at the top of the purse, all without a hitch.
Thank God the fucking price tag didn’t catch on the zipper
track.
Once it was all pushed down inside the darkness of her purse,
she rested the crook of her elbow over the opening again, for extra camouflage,
in case prying eyes should happen to look too closely as she left the shop.
Four hundreds dollars’ worth? really? The tiny skirt was easy enough to
conceal. It was an obscene price for a leather mini, anyway, she rationalized.
Even for a skirt as sexy and well-made as this one, that was too much money.
She could smell the richness of fine leather wafting from the other skirts
still on the rack in front of her as she glanced sideways again. All quiet. Not
a soul in the shop but her and the guy behind the counter. And he was still
gone.
God, that was really just too easy.
She felt her lips pursing together a little in spite of
herself, barely suppressing her self-satisfaction. Still, no reason to be
cocky. She’d planned this carefully enough in advance. Stupid thieves were
always being caught because they didn’t think things through, or they became
too brazen, too greedy. The news was full of dumb criminal stories. She’d resolved
not to be one of them.
Mia shifted her weight a little in her black heels and then
took a few small steps down the aisle toward the ball gags, crops,
hoods…glancing sideways again toward the cash register, now bathed in a soft
greenish glow of a banker’s lamp on the counter. The dimmer-than-usual lighting
meant that Flesh Factory—the largest kinky sex emporium and BDSM equipment
supplier in the city—was empty, about to close for the night—which was exactly
what she had counted on. But even as the last customer of the day, she’d taken
no chances and sent the lone employee—friendly, handsome, ever-so-helpful
“Michael”—on an errand to the stockroom to check for fence-net thigh-highs she
knew he wouldn’t find. They didn’t even carry them anymore. She knew the
stripper-wear section well and pretty much owned one of everything they sold by
now.
She continued to pretend to browse, exhaling another slow
breath. It was exciting, breaking the law. She’d done it. And now the leather
skirt was hers. All that was left to do was make a hasty yet friendly exit
shortly after Michael returned, apologetic and empty-handed, from the goose
chase she’d sent him on.
The short, low-cut white dress she’d worn tonight—no bra, of
course—had been extra insurance that she’d have his cooperation. The idea was
to disengage his brain while engaging his cock and she noted earlier, with
pleasure, that her chosen outfit had indeed done just that. The bulge in
Michael’s jeans confirmed it more than once, even before she’d made a point of
bending to examine sale items set on a low shelf. Oh, but men were so easily
entranced, so easily guided. And she knew now that her bare pussy and the twin
curves of her ass just peeking from under the tight white fabric of her dress
had done the trick with Michael. Plus it just made her feel sexy and like a bad
girl; the playful exhibitionist side of her submissive tendencies, she
supposed, now helping her steal a skirt.
Her thoughts snapped back to the present. A voice.
Michael’s.
“Sorry…Mia, was it? Looks like we don’t even carry those
anymore. I can call the supplier tomorrow, if you want, and see if we can
special order them. That could take a few weeks, though. You probably don’t
want to wait ...” He shrugged and turned a key in the register, locking it for
the night.
She smiled at him.
“Oh no…Michael. Sorry for the trouble. I just thought—”
He was still aroused, his erection huge and straining in his
jeans, and he was making no effort to hide it now. He’d come around the counter
and was looking her up and down, his dark eyes taking in her nipples, the
corners of his mouth turning up, approving. His eyes then moved down to her
long tanned legs in the black heels.
“Love the white dress.”
“Thanks. Look, it’s late and I’ve already kept you from closing
up on time. I gotta get going. But thanks, again, for checking on the fence-net
stockings.” Her elbow squeezed the shoulder bag in closer to her body as she
turned toward the exit. Another rush of satisfaction flooded her. She’d just
scored a premium leather miniskirt and was about to walk right out the door
with it and leave a hunky guy with a huge hard-on.
“You have a good night, then” she heard his husky voice
calling behind her. The red neon of the “open” sign in the front window
flickered a little, buzzing, and then went black. Maybe he couldn’t wait to get
her out of the store. Probably wants to jerk off.
Her hand closed around the doorknob when she sensed someone
moving up quickly behind her. Before she could turn, a large hand encircled her
throat as an arm clamped around her belly, pulling her backward. It happened so
fast.
A deep male voice—not Michael’s—breathed into her ear.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
EDITOR BIO
Skye Warren
is the New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author of dark romantic
fiction. Her books are raw, sexual and perversely romantic.
Visit Skye’s
website for her current booklist:
http://www.skyewarren.com/www.skyewarren.com
Follow Skye
Warren on Twitter:
https://twitter.com/skye_warren
Like Skye
Warren on Facebook:
https://www.facebook.com/skyewarren
The author will be awarding a $15 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter between this tour and the Review Tour, here.
Love the white dress.
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