A Mother's Day Spark
Mother’s Day is flowers and family, right? This Mother’s Day, Brian has a surprise up his sleeve but Trish isn’t budging. Kids, responsibilities and life seem too difficult to juggle. It’s only an early Mother’s Day Date, isn’t it?
A sensual tug, a playful game and searing heat–Trish is in for the surprise of her life.
Available on Amazon today!
Following is a sexy snippet from the book. Copyright 2017, all rights reserved:
“What about Thursday night?”
“I have that panel discussion.” I settled at the kitchen table, a cup of warm tea in my hands. The kids were asleep. I glanced at my watch.
“How about next week?”
I gripped my mug tighter. “Darling-I don’t know.” It appeared that our schedules weren’t going to click for this. I could see the tension in his jaw. It was only going to be a low-key, early, Mother’s Day date. “We don’t have to do anything. Let’s skip Mother’s Day this year.” I shrugged, slid the chair back and stood. My mouth stretched in a contorted “O” while I struggled to contain a yawn. Rolling my sleeves, I walked to the sink. “Your parents don’t even have to watch the kids.”
“Here, let me get the dishes.” With expert precision, he stepped in and practically stole the plate from my grasp.
I noticed his palm against the small of my back.
“Sit back down,” he urged, nudging me toward the kitchen table. “The kids are excited about a visit with my parents. I’m sure we can figure it out.”
The feel of his touch lingered like a sensual breeze. The kids are asleep. I followed him back to the sink. “We really don’t have to do anything. It’s so commercialized.” I wrapped my arms around his hips and pulled myself into him. “I have you–I don’t need anything else.” His cologne enveloped me. The spicy scent of Bleu De Chanel filled my nostrils as I whispered kisses across the most sensitive skin of his neck.
He turned around and faced me. His grey eyes seemed to penetrate my very being.
Black hair swept across his forehead.
I held his gaze for what felt like an eternity. My heart beat loudly in my chest.
A sly smile twitched at his lips. He brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. “I have a surprise.”
“I knew it!” I giggled and swatted at him with the nearest dish rag. “What’s the surprise?” Brian was so good to me. I couldn’t ask for a better husband.
He turned around. “Never mind,” he replied playfully and picked up a plate from the sink.
“I have my ways of making a man talk, you know.” I left my tone sensual and low. Breathing heavily, I flicked my tongue across his earlobe.
He pretended to ignore me and continued with the sponge, but I sensed the slight tremor that ran through his whole body. The sink filled with sudsy water. His strong hands reached for the soap, each movement slow and steady. Brian could make anything sexual. I caught myself intently watching his hands as they caressed each plate. He picked up a knife and gripped the handle. Strong fingers glided up and down the shiny silver, suds dripping along the perforated edge.
The skin across my thighs pulsed. Man, I want him. Reaching around his torso I lingered, exploring the skin beneath his shirt. My breath warmed his neck. I could feel his resolve waver. Encouraged, I reached ever lower. “Hmm.”
His cock began to stir.
I unbuttoned his slacks and ran my fingers beneath the waistband of his pants. The coarseness of his hair tickled my palm. I searched for his cock, my pussy pulsing with excitement. I couldn’t help my sensual murmurs as I began to stroke an ample erection.
I explored the area between skin and cotton. Reaching my other hand around, I slipped my fingers under the fabric and shifted his pants. The black wool fell elegantly to the floor. Rising from the puddle of material surrounding his shoes, two white socks stuck up proudly, the last cotton standing on his otherwise hairy legs.
“You’re such a distraction,” Brian finally admitted. He grabbed one of my hands, his aim surprisingly accurate given I stood behind him.
Soap made his grasp falter.
He spun around and we stood face-to-face.
The kitchen blurred in the background. All I saw were his steel grey eyes, messy, adorable hair and that look. I know that look. Inhaling deeply, I felt the anticipation like oxygen pushing through my body. Brian’s scent, his penetrating stare and tented boxers left me wanting.
His head dipped down. Our lips met, a sensual tango of tongue. I fell into the kiss, molding my body to his.
He groped for my ass. Slippery fingers attempted to hold me.
Giggling, I slid down, out of his grasp. Beginning from the floor, I worked my way leisurely up his legs, teasing. I nibbled and caressed, heading towards his cock. I knew he loved this picture. He loved looking down at me; watching as I worshiped his body with my mouth. He got off on me paying homage to his skin, to his cock. If he had his way, I’m sure I’d be on my hands and knees more.
I slid my tongue along the crease where his boxer briefs ended abruptly. Taking my time, I inched towards his cock. His was a proud cock. It stood upright as if waiting at attention for a proper salute. I continued nibbling, working my way across his shaft through the material. Arriving at the magic pocket, I explored and caught a taste of his salty flesh.
I bit the silk waistband and shimmied the boxers down his legs. As innocent as my blue eyes could muster with a cock in front of me and devilish torment on my mind, I peered up at him and asked, “you were saying?”
He leaned against the counter. From waist-up, he looked ready for work. His button-down appeared crisp, tie neat and tidy. Belt down told another story entirely. His cock poked against the wrinkled ends of a shirt stuck in trousers all day.
His eyes displayed a glazed, hooded hunger. “You really want to know?” he asked huskily.
I raised my eyebrows and bit my lip, knowing his response. I shifted and shuffled, getting my legs beneath me. Watching his gaze, I darted forward. My feet barely hit the floor as I sprinted through the living room. My chest heaved. The beating of my heart quickened. I felt the smooth silk of my panties slide against me.
He growled. His pants lay forgotten on the floor. Brian dashed after me, quickly spanning my sprint. He reached for my blouse.
Panting, I leapt through the threshold of our bedroom. My momentum caught by his sturdy hands. He must have gripped my shirt. I couldn’t find my balance and we fell forward onto the bed.
Adrenalin pumped through my body and concentrated in my pussy. I ached for him.
His hand flew through my hair and wound tightly. He yanked my head back.
Our eyes met.
His face hardened.
Breathless, I struggled to free my hand from his grasp. My head remained upturned. My scalp smarted slightly. The warmth from his breath caressed my cheek. I indulged in the phantom touch of his lips. His exhalation fell like soft waves across my ear. I shuddered.
He pulled at my shirt, tearing it.
“Ah,” I moaned, struggling to slow the smile from my face. My skin tingled with expectation. I writhed beneath him, inviting him to make his next move....