I'll soon have a limited number of reviewer ARCs available for Lover Enraptured. If you're interested in getting onto the list, please read and follow the couple of rules I have set up below.
Due to the limited amount
of ARCs I can give out, it's vital that anyone who asks for
one fully intends to post a review. Additionally, you must have a review blog, and/or be a contributor at one. If this is your first time
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blog where your reviews are posted. You can send that information to jodiredford@jodiredford.com
Not sure if Lover Enraptured is for
you? Got ya covered. Just read on for the blurb and and a hot excerpt. Warning--explicit! Side note: Although this is book 2 in a series, Lover Enraptured can easily be read as a standalone. Thanks, and I look forward to hearing from you!
Looks like someone’s knees are going to get a workout…
Thieves of Aurion, book 2
Coming Aug 13
Thieves of Aurion, book 2
Coming Aug 13
Avily Donahoe has dated way too many losers trying get over Jerrick
Hunter, the man who taught her everything about the life of crime she left
behind. Now he has the balls to show up and ask her to pose as his sub,
complete with skimpy leather outfit, to get inside a no-faes-allowed sex club?
Oh, hell no. If anyone’s going to be wearing next to
nothing, it’s going to be Jerrick…as her
bitch.
Five years ago, Jerrick realized the lonely kid he’d taken
under his wing had grown into a tempting, desirable woman—and he’d cut her
loose. If gaining her help now means hitting his knees with a leash and a
collar, so be it.
But soon their front escalates into an all-too-real erotic
game where the prize is the one thing that tantalizes him beyond reason. Their
hearts aren’t the only thing they’ll lose if they fail. It could mean the end
of everything—and everyone—they know and love.
Warning: This book contains male groveling, the
occasional blindfold and feather tickler, wicked sex magic, and a fae thief who
isn’t afraid to wear ass-less chaps when the job calls for it.
Excerpt
Jerrick was starting to come to the conclusion that the smaller
the package, the more potential for testing his patience. Despite being half
his size, Avi possessed the ability to drive him to the limits of his sanity.
After their showdown in the bathroom, she’d calmly ordered
him into the kitchen—where he was currently making her a salad while she kicked
back on the sofa. She was taking this whole getting-into-character to an
exasperating extreme. He knew she was doing it to prove a point, and he even
understood why.
What she didn’t
understand was the dangerous fire she was meddling with.
There was a reason he desperately needed to be the one
holding the reins in this charade, and it had nothing to do with some
farfetched notion of refusing to kowtow to a woman’s demands. As long as he
remained in control of himself,
everything would be okay. He could treat this job like any other and stay cool
and professional in the process. But with Avi pushing him and stripping his
defenses, what hope did he hold of resisting the potent pull of her?
He had to. Giving in was not
an option. Popping a cheese cube into his mouth, he squinted at her profile.
“It’s bloody cold in here. Can I put my damn shirt back on?”
“The lower temp is good for your metabolism. We wouldn’t
want you developing a spare tire around your gut.”
“I appreciate your concern for my health.” Somehow or other,
he’d find a way to get her back for this. “What else do you want in your
salad?”
“Maybe a few slices of the Nahimi melon.”
He opened her cooler and inspected the contents of the
crisper bin. “Looks like you already polished it off.”
“Well shoot.”
He waited for her to demand he drag his ass down to the
grocer. Or perhaps produce some magical seeds and till her a garden so she
could have her blasted fruit.
“Guess you’ll have to skip adding it. Chop up the rest of
the cooked hen on the second shelf and toss it in instead. I need my protein,
you know.”
Undoubtedly so she could keep her lungs nice and strong for
bossing him around.
A minute later, meal completed to her exacting standards, he
carried it to the sofa. She patted the cushion next to her. Before he even sat
down he knew what her next request would be.
“You can feed it to me.”
Biting back a growl, he speared a serving of the greens and
crispy poultry with the fork and held it to her mouth. Her lips closed around
the metal tines with an mmm of
pleasure that wrapped around his cock and refused to let go. Yes, she
definitely drove him insane. In more ways than one. He battled the potent
desire to suck the remaining few speckles of dressing from her
berry-vinaigrette-glossed lips.
“Does it meet your approval, my precious?” His voice sounded
strained and gruff to his own ears.
Her smile was as sweetly delivered as his endearment. “Color
me impressed. Didn’t know you had it in you to cook. You’ve always avoided any
domestic activity like it’s a fate worse than death.”
Damn sassy woman. Even if she was right. “It’s a salad. Not
much cooking involved.”
She surprised him by snatching the fork from his grip. At
bloody last, she was putting this ridiculous dominatrix stuff to bed for the
night.
Truthfully, her roleplaying wasn’t the only thing wreaking
havoc on his tightly strung patience. Sitting next to her and not running his
hands all over her silky skin was killing him. Their brief contact in the
bathroom only added kindling to the fire crackling between them. If he wasn’t
careful, he stood a good chance of getting burned.
He needed to remove himself from temptation. Now. Desperately clutching the frayed
strands of his willpower, he started to shove up from the cushion.
Avi stalled him with her hand on his thigh. His entire world
narrowed to the distracting pressure of her splayed fingers. He didn’t
immediately notice the fork waving inches from his face. “Wha—?”
She shoved the greens into his mouth, effectively shutting
him up. He chewed the offering, his wary focus never leaving her face. She
scooted closer and tucked her legs over his lap. A rush of familiarity swept
over him. How many times had she curled into him like this? Too many to count.
And just like those other occasions when he’d sweated through her need to
cuddle, he questioned his ability to keep his hands safely out of the danger
zone.
Popping another savory morsel of poultry into his mouth, she
looked him square in the eye, her own twinkling with a devilment that put him
on high alert. “Put your hand on my leg.”
He returned her stare for a long moment, attempting to
decipher if this was part of her cover or something else. Something that’d
ultimately prove a far tougher test to his control.
“Don’t make me punish you for your disobedience, Jer.”
The mock sternness in her tone did funny things to his gut.
Or maybe the sudden stiffening of his cock had something to do with the lazy
swirl of her fingertip along his abdomen. Hard to tell.
Extra emphasis on hard.
If he was smart, he would have called an end to their
training right there and packed it in for the night, but apparently his
intelligence had migrated south for the winter. “What punishment are you
intending to dish out?”
“Well…” She set aside the forgotten plate of salad and
straddled his lap. Her fingers drifted along the delicate swells of her hips,
the soft scritch of her nails raking
the supple leather providing an erotic soundtrack. “If you won’t touch me,
maybe I should make you watch me do
it.”
Surely she didn’t mean that the way it sounded. “Avi—”
She pressed a fingertip to his mouth. “No, you had your
chance. Now you’re going to pay the price.”
Oh, he held no doubt of that. Particularly when her hands
ghosted upward, tracing her rib cage and higher still to the fullness of her
breasts. She rolled the pads of her fingers over her nipples, mimicking the
motions he’d used earlier in the bathroom. His lungs suddenly felt equally as
constricted as his damn briefs.
She licked her lips, the sultry haze of desire in her eyes nearly
doing him in. “Did you like touching me? Do you wish you could do it right now?
Would you caress my breasts, or maybe slide your hand up under my skirt and
find out how wet I am?”
Sweet goddess. He
hissed a breath between his teeth. “Don’t play this dangerous game with me.”
“Why? Worried I’ll crack through that legendary control of
yours?” One palm swept lower and hovered temptingly near her mound.
Sweat broke out on his forehead. He’d never been more
grateful for the hindrance of a skirt. Ironic, considering he usually cursed
them to hell and back for slowing his seduction progress.
The heated glimmer in her eyes making him infinitely nervous
and aroused, Avi lifted onto her knees and tiptoed her fingers along the
creamy-smooth expanse of her thighs. Hypnotized, he watched the slow crawl of
her hemline ascending toward her hips. The black lace triangle of her panties
popped into view, and his shaky exhalation snuck loose before he could rope it
into submission. Damn. He was a fucking sucker for sexy underthings.
Then again, he was a fucking sucker when it came to Avi.
Period.
“Do you like what you see?” She leaned forward until her
lips grazed his earlobe. “Or should I give you something even better to watch?”
His brain screamed one answer while his cock piped in with
an entirely different response. Not trusting the words that might jog loose of
his mouth, he swallowed hard. This close, he could smell the sweet heat of her.
Beneath the luscious floral essence, he easily detected the feminine musk of her
arousal. It was driving him out of his mind. He longed to hike her up into his
arms and bury his head between her legs, fill his nose with the heady
intoxication of her pussy, right before he filled her with his tongue.
She leaned back, awarding him some room to enjoy the show.
He knew he was in some serious trouble the instant she hesitantly stroked over
the fabric covering her crotch. She was soaked. The slick, succulent sound
taunting him verified it. No need for him to see or feel her wet, velvety flesh
firsthand.
But he wanted to.
Dear gods, how he wanted to.
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