My assignment this week is to give you a hot morning after from one of my books. I've picked a hot and tasty morning after from Fashion Victim, which is in the Book Boyfriends Cafe's Summer Lovin' boxed set.
Here's the blurb:
Hot isn't a hot enough word to describe corporate raider Fletcher Wolf, but since he's suing couturier Cara Fletcher for, oh, a gazillion dollars, she figures she shouldn't hit on him…at least not too hard.
On top of that,
she wonders if he's responsible for the harassment and vandalism that's
plaguing her, irritants that escalate into crimes when her workshop is trashed
to the tune of a hundred thousand dollars. The economic damage enables him to
seize her company, bringing him into her life on a daily basis. When her
loft home is
torched and her assistant murdered, Cara realizes that the man she wants is the
only man who can keep her safe. Manhattan
And here's the hot morning after:
Sunlight streaming through the yellow curtains awakened me. Seated on the side of our bed, Fletch pressed a phone to his ear with one hand and held one of his ever-present guidebooks in the other.
“Nescafe, per favore, e panna. No, no, caffe nero. La panna separamente, per favore. Sí, accanto. Miele a panino, uh, panini. Um, frutta.” He flipped pages frantically while I struggled not to giggle. “Not frutta. Frutti, um, macedonia di frutta.” He put the phone down. “If we end up with dinosaur eggs for breakfast, I apologize. Next time, the Radisson.”
“No way. Does the Radisson have brocade couches and giant antique bathtubs? I love this place.”
“Then we’ll come back every year. Buon giorno, Carissima. Sleep well?” He leaned over and kissed me. It was a long, lingering sweet one.
Of course, I kissed back. “Mmm-hmm. And you?”
“Oh yeah, except that a wild woman attacked me over and over last night.” He caressed my breast with a broad, open palm.
I grinned. “You didn’t seem to mind.”
“Oh, I didn’t. But I didn’t get much rest. I might have to stay in bed today just to make up for my lost sleep.”
A few minutes later, a knock at the door signaled that breakfast had arrived, and he grabbed the hotel’s toweling robe before going to the suite’s door. He returned pushing a cart loaded with fragrant food: coffee, rolls, honey, and fruit compote served in cut crystal bowls.
I sat up in bed, ignoring my nakedness. Last night’s mullet hadn’t hit the spot—nowhere near it, really—and I was starving. I let the sheet crumple around my waist as I reached for a roll.
“Slow down, my little piglet. You’ll get food in the bed.”
“So what? There’s another one.” I bit, letting, crumbs scatter. The roll tasted delicious, crunchy on the outside, but soft and sweet within, redolent with herbs.
“Good point. Mmm. I think I’ll have my breakfast right here.” He leaned over and licked crumbs off my nipples. They promptly hardened.
I dropped the roll.
He said, “Tasty, but I can make it even better. Lie down, baby.” He stuck aspoon in the crystal honey pot, then dribbled the gooey mess onto my chest.
“What are you doing?” Startled, I tried to get up.
His firm hand forced me back down onto the pillows. “I’m just making a little breakfast.”
Something inside me shook, trembled. “This is, this is too weird for me.”
“Oh, come on. Where’s your sense of adventure?” Using both hands, he rubbed honey into my breasts, mixing it with the crumbly roll.
Whoa. Bits of bread rasped my nipples. Then Fletcher’s warm, wet mouth sucked one tip hard, then moved to the other breast. His morning beard grazed the soft valley between my breasts while a sticky hand slid behind one knee, spreading me wide.
More honey dripped, this time onto the nest of curls at my delta. As the honey warmed with contact, it became slicker, hotter...like I was.
I stretched and arched. Random morsels of bread scratched my back, my thighs, as he kissed honey from between my legs. The rub of his tongue pushing a bread crumb across my most sensitive flesh took me out of my mind. Languid and soft, I opened myself to him as he rose above me, pressing his erection against me before he moved inside. He rubbed sticky hands up and down my breasts as he thrust. He sank in, gasping.
Hot enough for ya?
If you like what you read, here's where you can score a copy, along with eleven other wonderful stories in the boxed set: http://tinyurl.com/deMelloFV
Remember, this is a blog hop! Find other talented writers' hot mornings after here: