Her Best Friend's Father #2
by Ayden K. Morgen Genre: Contemporary Romance
Two weeks. No strings attached. No messy emotions.
Those were the terms Mila Lawson offered Roman Gregory when they found themselves living together in Santa Cruz. Now that the ATF agent has his daughter's twenty-two year old best friend in his bed every night, he's finding it more and more difficult to deny what he's felt for her since the day they met.
With a drug cartel threatening to go to war and his daughter becoming increasingly suspicious, the last thing Roman should be thinking about is keeping Mila by his side. He's never wanted much, but he wants her…and he's willing to break more than a few of his own rules to convince the feisty little blonde to put her heart in his hands.
For Mila, falling for Roman might just be the most terrifying thing she's ever done. Trusting him with her body is one thing, but with her past still hanging over her, she knows all too well that the scary-hot man who drives her wild has the power to destroy her.
As their time in Santa Cruz draws to a close and the world beyond their little stretch of beach closes in on them, Roman and Mila will be forced to confront the truth about their relationship and make decisions neither could have imagined.
But who ever said falling in love would be easy? Destroy Meis the second of threesteamynovellas featuring Mila and Roman.
"You still haven't called Brady," Finn snaps as soon as I have the phone to my ear.
"Nope, I haven't."
"Goddammit, Roman," he curses. "Do you ever fucking follow orders?"
"You know I follow orders," I snap, grinding my teeth together. For ten years, I've followed Finn's orders. I've lived and breathed the rules, doing everything humanly possible to help close cases. I've given up a hell of a lot to do it, too. It pisses me off that he's questioning me now. I do my fucking job, and I don't complain.
But I'm not calling Brady. Because of him, I had to kill a man to keep his son safe, making myself a target for Jose Guerrero, el Demonio, and Pedro Francisco's cartel. I don't give a shit if they find me. But if they find Talia? Mila?
I will destroy Francisco's empire singlehandedly if that ever happens.
Finn rattles off a string of curses.
"What the fuck is up with you?" I demand. He's on edge, more pissy than usual.
"We may have a situation," he says with another curse.
Shards of ice stab into me as soon as the words are out of his mouth. I push off from the counter, fear pounding through me. Mila is here, asleep in my bed. If Guerrero's found this place—if he finds her--fuck. Panic like I've never fucking felt before shudders through me.
"Tell me," I say, clenching the phone in my hand so hard, I'm worried I might snap it in half.
"Some of Francisco's people kidnapped a DEA agent in Seattle." Finn curses again. "They blew up a fucking club with him inside. He barely made it out alive."
Panic begins to recede, allowing me to pull in a breath. My grip on the phone loosens.
"They were able to round up most of those involved, but another agent was shot in the process. From what we know, at least one subject with connections directly to Francisco got away. He's on the run, with what could be millions worth of some new drug they concocted."
"Jesus Christ," I swear, stunned. I knew the DEA had people on Francisco, but this is all news to me. And it's not the good kind of news either. The last thing anyone needs is some new drug in Francisco's hands. With that kind of leverage, he could corner the market on the drug trade, not just in Mexico and the United States, but everywhere.
His rush to get his hands on the guns Brady cost us makes a whole hell of a lot more sense now.
He's preparing to expand his empire.
"How the fuck didn't we know this?" I growl into the phone, frustrated.
"They weren't aware of the connection to Francisco until recently."
"Fuck me. It's too early for this shit."
"Yeah, well, had you called Brady like I fucking told you to do, you would have known about this three days ago," Finn says, still pissy about it.
"Are you calling me in?" I ask instead of taking that bait. As far as I'm concerned, it's the only important question right now. A few days ago, I would have welcomed him telling me to get back to Los Angeles. A few days ago, I was looking for any excuse to get the fuck out of here, away from temptation. Now though? I'm not ready to go back to work. I'm not ready to leave Mila.
Finn hesitates for a long moment and then sighs. "No," he says, allowing me to pull in a deep breath. "We're going to sweep up as many of them as we can and pray like hell we slow them down. There's no reason for you to come back."
He doesn't say the word yet, but I hear it anyway. I know how this works. If that drug makes it to Guerrero and el Demonio in Los Angeles, it's going to be an all hands on deck situation. I won't have a choice but to go back because we can't afford for him to gain any ground, and he will do whatever it takes to get that drug safely across the border. Even if he has to start a war to do it.
I stopped praying a long fucking time ago, but the urge hits hard and fast, throwing me off-balance. Only, I don't pray to slow them down or stop that war. No. I fucking pray to God that I don't have to leave Mila sooner than planned. Because that? That's what I'm fucked up about. Leaving her.
My entire adult life, I've been focused on my job. I gave up everything for it. I've had Mila in my bed for a week, and suddenly…nothing else seems to matter.
She's ruining me. Completely obliterating me. And God help us both, but I don't want her to stop.
Her Best Friend's Father #1
Don't get caught. Never fall in love. And steer clear of his daughter's friends.
The rules were easy enough for Roman Gregory...until Mila Lawson set out to break every single one of them.
When the twenty-two year old lands on the ATF agent's doorstep after a nasty breakup, he knows all too well that she's off-limits. At thirty-eight, he's almost twice her age, she's hurting, and the blonde bombshell is his daughter's best friend.
Mila knows all about wanting what she can't have. For four years, she's lusted after Talia McPherson's scary hot, terminally single father from afar. After walking away from her cheating ex and what she thought was her happily-ever-after, the last thing on her mind is jumping into a new relationship.
Until she find herself living with Roman in Santa Cruz...
Now all she can think about is making all those dirty fantasies come to life. With nothing left to lose, she makes him an offer he can't refuse: Two weeks of no-holds-barred sex. No strings. No commitments. No messy emotions.
Roman has no business agreeing to her insane proposition. He can't have her. He shouldn't even want her. But he's going to take her anyway… and he has no intentions of stopping until she's his completely.
If there's one thing Roman knows for a fact, it's that he doesn't lose. Ever. Devour Meis the first of threesteamynovellas featuring Mila and Roman.
"So I'm sorry about last night," I say, holding his gaze, refusing to fidget under the weight of it. My hand trembles, so I quickly set my coffee cup on the counter and cross my arms. "I never drink that much. I, um, I'm sorry I passed out and you had to take care of me."
He frowns at me, something shifting through his gaze so quickly, I can't make it out. He looks…I'm not sure. Like I've thrown him off-balance again, like he suddenly isn't sure what to expect from me. That little flash of uncertainty gives me the courage I need to finish what I have to say.
"I should probably also apologize for going into your room yesterday. It wasn't fair of me to invade your privacy like that. You had your door closed for a reason, and I should have respected that."
He stares at me, but doesn't say anything. He does that a lot, just watches me. Ever since I first met him, he's watched me like he can't look away. He looks at me like he knows me inside and out, and still hasn't decided what to do about me. It's unnerving and hot at the same damn time, and I have no clue what it means.
"You said you should apologize," he finally says.
"You said you should apologize." He tips his coffee cup up to his lips and takes a sip, watching me over the rim. Those blue eyes rove across my face, not missing anything. "You didn't say you are sorry."
"Oh." I wander toward the fridge, grimacing when my foot throbs.
"Is your foot still bothering you?"
"It's okay," I say, giving him a partial truth. It's not too bad, but it honestly feels worse this morning than it did yesterday. I think it may be getting infected. That's probably my fault for walking around barefoot all the time, but I like the feel of the floor beneath my feet. I love buying shoes, but I'm not big on actually wearing them.
I squeak when I'm suddenly lifted off my feet. My hands go to Roman's shoulders, clutching as he swings me up into his arms like I don't weigh anything. He doesn't seem to notice my weight at all, actually. It's honestly kind of hot. Damien was tall and lanky and he never picked me up. I'm only a size thirteen, but I always felt a little out of place next to him. Or maybe he made me feel out of place beside him. I'm not sure, but Roman doesn't make me feel that way.
He turns and plops me down on the island. The marble is cold beneath me, my thin shorts not offering much protection. The chill fades quickly when he runs his hand down my bare leg, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. A different kind of shiver rolls through me, and then he's propping my foot up to examine it, a furrow between his brows. I fight the urge to reach out and smooth that little wrinkle with my fingers.
"You need to keep this bandaged. It's infected." His fingertip runs across my instep and then he turns away.
He's back in seconds, the first aid kit in his hands. He pops it open and rummages through, setting aside various items before he finds what he's after. I open my mouth to tell him that I'm fine, but he glares at me before I can form the first syllable, so I shut up and sit patiently.
He cleans the cut with gentle hands, swabs ointment onto it, and then wraps a bandage around my foot.
"Thanks," I whisper when he's finished.
I expect him to let me go, but he doesn't. He looks up at me, his big hand still wrapped around my ankle. He's so close I can see little flecks of gold in his eyes, smell the coffee and minty toothpaste on his breath. I swallow hard at the heat in his gaze.
"You said you should apologize," he repeats his earlier comment now that he's done doctoring me up. "Are you sorry?"
"No," I whisper, unable to lie to him. Maybe I should be sorry for invading his privacy or throwing myself at him, but honestly, I think I'd do the same thing all over again. I want him, and I know he wants me too. Taking big risks and putting myself out there has never really been my thing, but I want to take one this time.
He slides his hand up my calf.
"Are you sorry?" I ask, my gaze locked on the play of emotions across his face. They swirl through his eyes so quickly I'm not sure where his head is at…what he's thinking…what he wants.
"No." His hand lands against my inner thigh, making me jump. "Easy, baby," he murmurs, placing himself between my spread legs.
"You apologized yesterday," I remind him, trying to ignore the way my stomach flips at the word baby. I love it when he calls me that.
"I lied." His mouth lands against my ear, his breath hot and heavy. "I'm not sorry for a fucking thing, Mila." His teeth clamp down around my earlobe. The sting sends a bolt straight to my clit. "You offered me two weeks," he says against my skin. "Did you mean it?"
He nips at my earlobe again like he's rewarding me for answering him. His hands skim across my thighs and then around to my hips. He grips me hard, holding me in place.
"I hope you're ready for me, sweetheart," he whispers. "It's too late to back out now."
Ayden is the Amazon Bestselling author of the Ragnarök Prophesies series. She lives in the heart of Arkansas with her childhood sweetheart/husband of fourteen years, and their furry minions. When not writing, she spends her time hiking, reading, volunteering, causing mischief, and building a Spork army.
Ayden graduated summa cum laude with her Bachelor of Science degree in Criminal Justice and Forensic Psychology in 2009 before going on to complete her graduate degree in CJ and Law. She currently puts her education to use in the CJ and Social Services field.
Guest Post by Ayden K. Morgen Erotic Romance: Behind the Steamy Scenes
I have a confession to make…I love writing sex scenes. In third person. In first person? Not so much. I don't know what it is about the change of perspective, but it throws me every time. I end up fighting my inner editor the entire time I should be writing.
Sometimes, it works out well. Other times, it's completely awful.
I'm pretty proud of how I did with the scenes in this series, however. The sex scenes are downright steamy at times.
I give all the credit to Roman. He's scorching hot, especially when he gets all riled up. I love that he can be rough and tender at the same time. I think that combination in an alpha male is so sexy!
Who doesn't love a man who can make you swoon even as he's getting you all hot and bothered?
Roman manages to do both, and then some. I love how effortlessly his sex scenes came together. Trust me, it's not always like that!
Here are a few other truths about writing sex scenes.
It never stops being awkward when someone I've known my entire life reads my books. It's even more awkward when they want to discuss them with me. No.
People are always surprised by how much I know about sex as a result of writing. I like to know what I'm talking about, so I do actually research certain things.
I've bribed my husband into helping with research more than a few times. Sometimes, I need to know if something is actually possible or if it's awkward. Being able to see it in action helps! It's especially helpful when writing about a man as tall as Roman.
There are only so many ways you can write about penetration. My editing notes to myself always make me laugh because I'm quick to tell myself to STFU about using certain words again, especially if I'm tired when I'm editing. "Look, lady, you've said thrust 84 times. Change this shit already!"
No, I don't watch porn often. Give me erotic romance any day. I find words so much sexier than video. As with above, there are only so many ways you can see penetration. Visually, it's not particularly erotic!
That said…one scene in this series may or may not have been inspired partially by porn. I don't even remember the specific of the scene. I just remember watching it and thinking how hot it was to see this man focused completely on his partner's pleasure instead of his own as he made her orgasm over and over. There aren't many pornos out there like that! Seeing it from an observer's standpoint was incredibly erotic.
I have some very frank conversations with friends and readers about what words ruin a scene. Core, channel, and passage always top the list for a lot of us, myself included. Moist is a no-go for pretty much everyone. So is the "c" word unless it's used in very, very specific ways (ie: the hero says it specifically because of how filthy it sounds).
I learned to write sex scenes with the help of Twitter. Followers would sometimes tweet photos (usually from Tumblr), and I would write a little flash fiction piece inspired by that photo. It really helped!
The very first part of this series I wrote was actually this teaser. It so perfectly fit the steamier aspects of Mila and Roman's story.
When I interviewed for my current job, we had an entire conversation about Fifty Shades of Grey and erotic romance. One of the two interviewers left for another job the week I was hired, but she's now a member of my Review Team!
I can't start writing a sex scene on my computer. I have to start them by hand. I don't know why, but virtually every single sexy scene I've ever written has started on paper.
You can dive into Roman and Mila's steamy scenes in Devour Me and Destroy Me. I hope you enjoy them now that you've had a peek behind the curtain!
Follow the tour HERE for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!