Standing on her tiptoes at a Renaissance Fair, Lela Marshall catches a glimpse of just how hot a forge can get. Even from fifty feet away, she’s never felt this sort of heat. And it’s coming from between her legs.
Miller Rhodes has a gigantic problem. He’s met the woman he knows is destined to be his. Only, she’s disappeared into a crowd and took his heart and his future with her. For once, even work can’t distract him from thoughts of the way her lips tasted for one brief moment under the July sun.
Can a sock-chewing puppy and a meddling mother be the solution to Miller’s problem? Will this knife forging hard-ass find his soft spot in the girl that stole his heart after just one kiss?
Author’s note: Lose yourself in the heat radiating from this filthy talking alpha. He’s a man of few words, but he definitely isn’t lacking on how to use his mouth in other ways. Suspend reality for a bit with this love at first kiss, happily ever after, scorching hot read. Safe, indulgent and *touches finger to butt and listens for the sizzle*.
My dick is forged steel. Sure, it’s been fucking hard ever since I laid my eyes on her, but nothing like this.
This kind of hard-on exists only for her. Well, in three months they’ve all been for her, but right now even my dick knows the universe is speaking and it’s saying that’s all mine.
My mom used to tell me stories about the men in her family. Back then, I didn’t believe that shit. She told me the Rhodes men knew when they found their mate that it’s like a sixth sense and that’s it — there can never be anyone else. Since my father was missing in action, I took my mom’s name. And now the Rhodes legend which I’d formerly dismissed, I now know to be gospel.
This acute awareness of her consumes me—that there is one woman for me, only one, and she’s right here. Right now. And there is no question left. I’m taking what’s mine.
I’m ready to gnaw her clothes off and fill her with so much cum she’ll be giving birth to a litter nine months from today.
My tongue pushes between her lips, and the taste of her has me seeing red, planning our fucking wedding. I swear to Christ.
Visions of her wearing white and saying “I do” fill my head like a long-lost dream.
Her tongue meets mine, and my hands fly to the back of her head. My fingers tighten in her hair, gripping and holding on for dear life. She tastes like sweet tea and fresh honey. The lust of summer mixed with the freshness of spring.
My erection nearly tears through the top of my pants trying to get at her. I wonder if she’s wet. The thought of it has me ready to nut in my pants.
The little moaning, gasping sounds she’s making as our tongues do a few laps with each other, back and forth, are music. My gut is tight. I’m already desperate to keep her here. To be sure she can never leave.
I pull back from our kiss, needing to see her face. To know she wants me like I want her.
Her cheeks have turned a deep, rose red, more than a blush, and her shimmering blue eyes are half lidded as I devour the beauty of her face. I loosen my grip in her hair even as my mind is filled with the image of me pressing her to her knees, her plump lips opening to take in every inch of my thick cock.
Fuck, I need this girl.
This is beyond wanting. Need. No doubt in my mind I need her in order to draw my next breath.
The tension in my muscles feels as though I’m holding a pose for the judges at Mr. Universe.
I can’t relax. I won’t relax. Not until I’m inside her, showing her just what it’s going to mean to belong to me.
Because she does.
She belongs to me.
“Wow.” She brings the back of her hand to her lips.
For a moment, I’m pissed because I think she’s going to swipe it across her mouth and wipe away the wetness of our kiss.
Instead, she presses her knuckles there, her eyes close for a moment, and she breathes long and slow. Her hand flips over, and she sets her fingertips to her lips, as though she’s holding our kiss in place.
Savoring us. I nearly come undone at the beauty of the moment.
“I have a single question for you,” I rumble, standing as close as I can to her without touching. Staring down as she gives me a wary look upward, waiting for what I’m going to say next. “Since that first day we met…”
I trail off, suddenly terrified I won’t get the answer I need. My chest constricts. I swallow hard and throw it out there because I have to know.
“Have you ever touched yourself thinking about me? Imagined me inside you?” I’m fixed on her face, watching for the truth there.
My bold question has her mouth dropping open, her lips quivering in an uneasy smile, but her eyes answer me with a twinkle, staying pinned on mine. The relief floods my body, even as blood fills every remaining micro vessel of my cock. It’s bent at a painful angle inside my pants. The length I know will fill her. The thickness will hurt her, but she needs to be mine in every way. I will be as gentle as I can, but even now I know it may not be possible to make it easy.
I want her like an animal. I want to keep her tied to my bed and fuck her until her belly swells and the only word she knows is my name.
“Yes,” she whispers, tugging her lips to the side.
So fucking cute. Damn, she’s perfect.
Her single-word answer confirms what I already know, and her hand leaves her lips, reaching out to touch the side of my face.
Dani Wyatt loves her alpha men; make them military, cowboys, MMA — any uber alpha with a wicked possessive streak and an insatiable libido. Receive a free exclusive unpublished title when you join Dani’s private readers group for updates, free chapters and discounts.
She’s a 40 something regular lady who just happens to love badass alpha males who pull your hair and love their women with a lethal passion.
When she’s not writing (which is not often) she is probably laughing about some irony (like A-1 Steak Sauce is vegan), riding her horse, wondering why The Walking Dead can’t have a new episode every night, or looking cross-eyed at some piece of technology sent to ruin her day.