Taking an inside look at a sexy scene from the new romantic suspense novel, White Out!
She's a woman hiding secrets that could get her killed...
He's a cowboy who wants to love her anyway...
Here's a sexy excerpt (adult content) of what happens when the two heat up the hot springs:
Fog hovered over
the river and clung to the staggered pools of hot springs lining the mountainside. Snow-covered
banks were lined with giant boulders and spruce trees. The apres ski crowd filled
the pools of natural spring water, their laughter and low voices carrying across
stone paths shrouded with steam from the cold air colliding with heat of the
water. Ryan had already settled into one of the upper, more private pools with
her flask tucked near him beneath the towels.
Lyle would hate
that she was exposing so much of herself—because of the tattoos she'd refused
to laser off—but, at the moment, she didn't care for rules or limitations.
Shivering with the
bite of the cool air and thankful for the dim light of twilight that stretched
across the sky, she shuffled barefoot over the stone steps and slid into the
soaking pool. Hot water eased her weary bones, steam slid across her face, and
reckless energy snapped through her veins. It had literally been years since
she'd spent time alone like this with a man who wasn't carrying a badge of some
type. An untamed beat hammered in her heart, reminding her of what it felt like
to be free.
Sighing, she
closed her eyes, floated her legs in front of her, stretched her arms across
the wall at her back, and slid her foot against Ryan's thigh. She liked the way
his hard body felt against hers.
"You've got
tattoos, I see." He cleared his throat and shifted away from the contact. "Is
that a shark? It's a beautiful blue...nice craftsmanship with the
flowers."
"The shark is
the sign of the warrior for some Pacific Island tribes," she answered
without opening her eyes.
"You confuse
the hell out of me."
Smiling, she
opened her eyes, lifted her foot from the water, and held it close to his face.
"Stardust."
He shook his head,
grabbed her heel, and looked at the gold stars tattooed on her foot. He met her
gaze without releasing her foot and smiled. "Careful, Brandi...you're
flirting with someone who isn't afraid to go for it."
She pulled her
foot free and narrowed her gaze. "Know what I want to do?"
"Me?" He
grabbed the flask, opened it, and took a long sip without breaking eye contact.
She pushed away
from her side of the pool, waded toward him, staying submerged up to her chin
in warmth, used her hands to push his thighs apart, and slipped between them.
If he wanted to have his mind blown, she could do that.
Without looking
away from his gaze, she took the flask from his fingers and took a long sip
without flinching. His focus dropped to the curve of her breasts that floated
above the surface and pressed against his chest.
"And here I
thought you were shy." He dropped his hands to her hips and grinned.
"Why? Because
I didn't drop to my knees the first time you said hello?" She slid a wet
finger down this face, lingered over his mouth.
"I've enjoyed
my fair share of apres ski soaks," his fingers trailed up her spine before
untying the strings of her bikini, "but this isn't a hook-up. I want more
than one night with you."
"Why?"
She tilted her head to the side so she could see his eyes more clearly in the
twilight and steam.
"Because it's
taken me months to get to this point and I'm not going back to square
one." He rubbed his knuckles along the shark tattoo on her left ribcage. "I
like you and your special brand of crazy."
Her smiled faded.
He liked her in a way that no one had in a very long time. Fame had found her
at sixteen and she'd spent half her life in a glittery bubble filled with
beautiful people saying all the right things to feed her ego. But this—being
here with Ryan in the half-light with moisture beading their faces and large
snow flakes falling against solar lights while his fingers caressed her skin
and his eyes looked into hers—this felt
like a dream.
"I had you
all wrong, Ryan." She didn't move when her bikini top floated up,
connected only by the strings around her neck and his hands covered them while
he looked at her with a dare in his eyes.
"Yeah? I
thought you checked me out on the internet and knew all about my bad boy
ways?" His smile turned wicked in an instant. "All you need to do is
tell me to back off—something I know you're not afraid to do—and I will."
"You're a
choir boy compared to my old crowd." She liked teasing him, but the
reality is they probably missed each other at a few of the same parties back in
their glory days. They'd both lived fast and hard, wearing their notoriety with
ease.
"I'm older
now," he kissed her chin, "tamer."
"How
disappointing." She held his face between the palms of her hands and
kissed him with a slow intensity that had him moaning into the deep recesses of
her mouth.
He squeezed her
breast with one hand while the other moved to her ass. His legs wrapped around
the back of hers, pulling her closer. Water sloshed between their bodies, fog
wrapped them in privacy.
She curled one arm
around his neck while sliding her other hand down his chest. Their mouths clung
to each other while their hands explored. Animalistic need pulsated through her
veins. It had been so long since she'd been touched...or done any touching.
His thumb moved
over her nipple. He dragged his mouth from hers and kissed her neck.
She reached
between their bodies and found his erection. "Damn, you're full of
surprises."
"You
like?" He sucked on her bottom lip.
"Oh, yeah, I
like a lot." She ground her hips
against his hard-on while her fingers teased the tip.
"We're going
to get arrested." He smiled, not looking too worried.
"I've got
connections you don't know about...I'm sure they'll bail us out." She
laughed at the audacity of the moment, trapped in their little world of steam,
snow, and spring water.
He put both of his
hands on her breasts, lifted them high in the water, and dipped his head to the
curve of her neck. He lightly bit her shoulder while she rubbed herself against
his erection. His ankles linked behind her knees, holding her in a tight
circle.
Their mouths met
in a kiss that melted her bones. She wrapped both arms around his neck and held
still, knowing that they were dangerously close to crossing a line.
He gasped against
her mouth, hands flat against her back, and eyes open. "You taste like
whiskey and feel like heaven."
"Such a
poet." She grinned, chest heaving against him while she struggled to
regain control of her libido.
"Such a
smartass." He nipped her chin.
Sounds of the
river bubbled inches away from their heads. They kissed—slowly—eyes wide open.
An abrupt sound of
music slashed through the quiet. The apres ski crowd laughed somewhere further
down in the mist.
Her song, her
music.
"Laurel..."
a man's voice from somewhere in the mist called. "Laurel!"
She broke away
from him and twisted in the water looking for the source. Heartbeat slammed in
her throat.
The music grew
louder.
She bit her lip
and sunk to her chin. Having a panic attack could get her killed, how many
times had she been coached about how to act?
"What's the
matter?" Ryan asked.
"That
song..." She shook her head when it turned off as abruptly as it had
begun.
"What
song?" He pulled her back against him.
She stared at the
swirling mist that competed with the flurries wafting down through the
darkness. Night encroached fast this time of year. It wasn't even five o'clock,
yet the twilight glow had become black sky. Solar lights around the property
showed an increasing amount of people in the lower pools, all half-hidden in
shadow.
"Didn't you
hear that song?" she whispered against his ear. "Or hear that
voice?"
"I was a
little preoccupied." He retied the strings of her bikini and adjusted the
fabric over her breasts. "Do you have a thing against music?"
"It startled
me." Damn it, for a rebel I'm acting
like a scared little mouse.
"Maybe we
should eat. It's getting crowded and I did promise you a decent meal. I believe
you gave me a curfew, too, so I had better keep the evening rolling." He
shifted his weight so that her butt sat on the low bench in the water, grabbed
her knees to open her legs, and slipped his body between her thighs. Hands
pressed against the stones above her shoulders, he grinned before kissing her
again.
"We could
stay here...I don't mind."
"If we stay
here," he whispered against her ear, "we're going to have sex, which
would be good, I have no doubt, but I'm trying very hard to be a gentleman."
"Did I say I
wanted a gentleman?"
"You're one
dangerous woman, aren't you, Brandi Simms?" He nibbled her ear before
sliding free of her grasp and fading into the steam. "We're going to move
on to phase two of our date...after that, anything goes."
"Anything?"
"Ask and you
shall receive." He stepped from the pool, his silhouette illuminated by
the solar lights, giving her enough of a glimpse of the wet swim trunks molding
his hard ass and long thighs to make her moan with longing. She wanted nothing
more than to peel those trunks off of him with her teeth and let the night play
out like a scene from a porn film. "I'll meet you at the jeep. You okay
with that?"
"Yes," she
managed to say from a throat swollen with longing.
"Sexiest
voice I've ever heard," he said before wrapping himself in a towel.
She smiled and
grabbed her own towel before stepping toward the bag she'd left on the table
just out of view. Humming to herself out of habit, she manuevered over the
stone steps to the changing area. Inside, she ignored a few twenty-somethings
and a mother struggling with young kids and walked into the shower to erase the
strong smell of sulfer.
Music. She heard
it again. Her song—one of her songs—that she'd won a Grammy Award for several
years ago called Bittersweet.
Shutting off the shower, she listened hard over the sound of her drumming
heartbeat and the chattering of the other women. As if in a trance, she walked
into the room, toweling herself dry as she moved. The sound came from outside.
Tucking the towel
securely around her body, she stepped out and looked around at the soft glow of
lights illuminating a beautiful landscape.
Silence.
"I'm driving
myself insane," she whispered before stepping back inside to change. She
reached for her bra and panties only to stop at the sight of the magazine
article that had been dropped inside the bag.
Laurel Lassiter, rock diva, dead at 31.
A large question
mark had been scrawled over the headline in red.
She sank to the
bench, rested her elbows on her knees, and struggled to catch her breath.
"Are you
okay, ma'am?" One of the twenty-somethings asked.
"Yeah, I'm
fine."
Get yourself together, someone is probably
watching for your reaction. Stand up. Get dressed. Act as if nothing has
happened. Tell Lyle about it later when no one is studying your every move.
With a shake of
her head, she changed into her clothes, brushed out her hair, fixed her
make-up, and coached herself to breathe.
Images of that
last day flashed in her mind...laughing
in the dressing room, joking with her band mates...The brush fell from her
trembling hands. When she bent to pick it up, more memories assaulted her...the roar of the crowd chanting her name, their
signature pump-me-up song playing while they waited backstage, the sight of her
sister giving her the thumbs up.
"Fuck it, not
now," she whispered to herself and forced herself to stand on trembling
legs. Some memories were meant to never surface. She jammed the brush into her
bag, gritted her teeth at the sight of the article, and reminded herself to
stay in control because this could all be a test of some kind.
And Lyle had suggested the trespassers were
a coincidence? Moron.
She walked from
the changing area and through the night with her head held high. If someone
watched, she wanted them to think she really was Brandi Simms.
And Brandi Simms
wouldn't care one bit about a two-year old article about a dead rock star.
Seeing Ryan
lounging against his jeep and talking on his cell phone, she fought the urge to
sprint the rest of the way. Snowflakes
dotted his black hair like sprinkles. He wore his lined leather coat and Levis
with an ease that would make any male model green with envy. His laugh carried
to her across the parking lot and made her long for simplicity.
I need to walk away from him before he's
sucked into this chaos I call my life. If she had truly been found, then
she was putting a target on his back. The knowledge burned a hole in her heart.
The blurb...
She's been erased.
As a protected witness, Brandi
Simms has given up everything that made her unique to start over in Steamboat
Springs, Colorado. Blending into the background isn't easy, but it's vital for
survival. When her handsome yet incorrigible neighbor—former Olympic skier
turned cowboy—decides her aloof attitude is a challenge rather than a
deterrent, she knows the only right thing to do is resist.
The secrets she hides are deadly.
Ryan Landry isn't accustomed to
rejection. Three-time Olympic Gold Medalist, he's the local hero who came home
to run a ranch and be near his family. The mysterious neighbor who seems
content to hang out with dogs rather than humans haunts his fantasies and
ignites that competitive drive that led him to the world stage.
He's not one to give up.
When her dangerous past catches up
to Brandi, Ryan is determined to break through her secrets to find the truth no
matter what the cost. Trapped in a whiteout blizzard with unseen threats
lurking in the snow, will they get a chance to create a new beginning or will
Brandi's past be the death of them?
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