CAPTURED: 9 Alpha Bad-Boys(100)

It is more intense when you're in love. Now I know. The jolt of desire  is so strong my legs shake with it. My gaze coasts down his amazing gut.  His stomach is a flat plane, with an eight-pack instead of a six. Who  knew there were that many muscles?

I let my eyes go a little lower-





One Hot Winter Break

Sharon Page

Excerpt

It is ten days before Xmas, and Ryan and I are lying in my bed while my  mom is out, entwined together to stay warm. My mom keeps the heat down  in the bungalow to save on the bills, so we spend a lot of time in the  winter wearing coats inside.

Ryan is under my sheets and worn quilt. His toes stick out of the end of  my bed, which bothers me as I'm sure he is cold. He doesn't seem to  notice. Maybe because we're both naked.         

     



 

He kisses the top of my head, a Ryan-gesture I adore. "What do you want for Christmas, Mia?"

"This." I snuggle close to him, and wrap my hand around his amazing cock  that is already hard again. I'm supposed to be the one who can keep  coming time after time and enjoy the multiple orgasm phenomena, but Ryan  and I have been apart so much that he is now insatiable. Apparently  guys can bank up their horniness, and it can all explode at once.

I give his rigid shaft a squeeze. I have small hands and can barely  touch my fingers around him. "This is all I want," I say, "being in bed  with you."

Ryan gazes at me under his long, dark lashes. His hair, buzzed almost to  his scalp, is white-blond but his eyelashes are black. He laughs  huskily. "I want to give you more than that."

I hesitate. I know Ryan is struggling to afford school, even with the  scholarship. "I don't need anything else. You don't have to get me  anything." When he came to visit me just before Thanksgiving, he showed  me how to use the equipment in the architecture school's wood and metal  working shops, which save me from failing my major fall term project. I  really don't need anything else.

"I want to get you a gift."

"Don't, Ryan. You need your money for school."

He frowns, his lashes flicking down over his sapphire blue eyes. He runs  his hand over his white-blond stubble. On Ryan, the severe hair cut  looks sexy. "I'm not that poor, Mia."

"You-" I break off. I was about to argue and say that I know he is and I  don't care. That I don't need stuff. But Ryan has a lot of pride.

He sits up in my bed, the sheets tumbling off him. The cool air washes over me and my heart hammers.

I've hurt him. Money is something he's sensitive about.

I sit up too, my bare breasts jiggling. My nipples go hard from the  cold. Goose bumps jump up all over my breasts. Shivering, I lean over  and put my lips to his cock. He tastes of sex, of his come. Sticking out  my tongue, I run it lavishly around the taut head. I strum along the  crown, then open my mouth and suck his cock deep inside.

I want to make things up to him.

He groans, but he cups my chin and gently pushes me back, forcing me to  release him. "I don't want pity. You don't have to do this to make me  feel better."

True, making him feel better was sort of why I was doing it. But I say, "I was doing it because I like sucking and licking you."

Ryan gets out of the bed, which startles me. He pulls on his sweatshirt,  covering his broad bare chest. "Is that why you sleep with me? You feel  sorry for me. You think I've had it rough."

"No, that's definitely not why I sleep with you."

But he's a guy. Guys don't listen. "I'm not good enough for you, Mia."

I get up on my knees, my old mattress sinking under my weight. "That's  not true, Ryan." I hate confrontation. I want to say I love him, but  maybe that will make everything worse.

"You know about all the crap in my life and it's made you feel sorry for  me." He runs his hand over his short hair again. His sapphire-blue eyes  are filled with pain. "Why else would you be with me?"

"Maybe because I care about you?"

He doesn't say anything. He picks up his white briefs from the floor,  and yanks them up his muscular legs. Under his sweatshirt, his biceps  flex and his forearms are hard as steel. He was always strong from  football, mixed martial arts training, and work in the garage. But a  term in military college has bulked up his pecs, his biceps, even  tightened the muscles of his amazing butt. He's sexy and beautiful.

My brain is slowly processing information. He's putting on clothes. Does  this mean he's walking away? Out the door? What does this mean?

What in hell did I do that was so wrong? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to  hurt you." I feel confused and bad. But angry, too. Why isn't he just  talking to me?

I've spent way too much of my life feeling that way over stuff that I  did, or didn't do wrong. I've never meant to hurt anyone. And right now,  I'm starting to shake.

My reflection flashes back at me from the round mirror on my pink  dressing table-I've had it since I was six. My hair is all tangled from  sex, falling in red-blonde messed-up waves that spill over my shoulders  and half-cover my breasts. My face is pale. Count-the-freckles pale.

He looks at me with this kind of unutterable sorrow on his face. "I'm  sorry, too. I should have talked to you before now." He has his jeans in  his hand.

What's going on here?

# # #





Burns Like Fire

Mandy Rosko

Jack Marilla is out for revenge for the deaths of his family, and the  burn scars that cover his body. To get it, he has to hunt down the woman  he used to love, the paranormal fire starter who set his house ablaze  with him, and his family, locked inside of it. When he catches her,  however, he faces his biggest challenge yet. To not believe her when she  claims to be innocent, or fall for her seduction.

Copyright 2014 Mandy Rosko

Table of Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

About The Author

Go to next book

Go to previous book

Go to Table of Contents





Chapter One

There she was.

Jack Marilla's heart sped up, like some kid crushing on an older chick  who was so far out of his league she might as well have come from a  different planet. The result of which was that his blood pumped faster  and hotter, zooming straight down to his cock, practically racing to get  there. The stupid thing stiffened uncomfortably behind the metal zipper  of his pants, clearly remembering the last time he'd been between those  shapely thighs.

Fuck him. Cindy Chase. He hated her so damned much that it hurt, but she was still something to look at.

And wasn't that twisted? He watched her from the shrubs on the edge of  the parking lot, lusting after her, thinking about fucking her, and yet  all the while he imagined what it would feel like to toss her into a  metal box, to hurt her, to get back at her. Ugh, Christ, that was the  sort of fantasy typical of a serial killer. Good thing he had a badge.

Jack had a hard time believing it was her at all. He wasn't sure what  he'd been expecting, but the almost normal look of a murderer, dressed  in the sort of high heels that showed off her calves, and a short skirt  that revealed just the right amount of leg-like she was getting ready  for a night on the town-was definitely not it.

Two years didn't change how insanely gorgeous she was. Cindy's thick  fiery red hair was an explosion of curls that framed her heart shaped  face. She had pale skin and a naturally slender frame with the longest  legs Jack had ever had the pleasure of having wrapped around his waist.

Jack clenched his teeth as he fought against the intensifying throb in  his stupid dick. He'd hoped the years had been rough on her. He'd hoped  she'd suffered as much as he had, that she would've at least had bags  under her eyes from lost sleep, or been living in a shitty apartment.

Nope. She looked like every other twenty-something who had enough time  and money to take herself to the spa every other day. It looked as  though she'd been getting along just fine, and it pissed him the fuck  off.

In fact, she looked exactly the same sweet, innocent looking girl he'd  met back when he'd been a fool in love. And yes, he could use the word  innocent on her even with the clothes she was wearing. She just gave off  that kind of vibe. No wonder he'd been tricked. Seeing her again was  one giant reminder of how he'd been taken in.

Jack curled his hands into fists. It was hard for him to look at her and  see a murderer who could summon flames from her body as bright as the  thick hair that tumbled down her back. A murderer who'd locked him and  his family inside of his house before burning it down around them.

The scars on his back seared just thinking about it.

He didn't want to think about his scars. He wanted to think about his  family: his father, Sean, and older brothers, Liam and Aidan. They'd  burned alive because of her. The screaming and coughing and yelling as  everyone clawed at the locked exits was the absolute worst memory he  had.

Thoughts like that were always just what he needed to make his stupid his dick behave.