Profilo di marilynMaya's illusions of real...FotoBlogElenchiAltro ![]() | Guida |
|
|
12 novembre honey trapan exerpt from a spicy novellette
“I’m over here,” Tom said, sliding his Glock from its holster. There was a gasp in the dark and the shadowy figure rushed past him toward the door. Making a grab for the trespasser, Tom closed his fist around a wrist and shoved the business end of the pistol under the guy’s chin as he twisted his arm behind his back. He registered the skinny wrist and diminutive build against his own solid frame. Had they seriously sent a kid after him? Tom propelled the kid into the shaft of street light coming through the window, not letting go of his hold. It wasn’t a kid it was a woman. He knew that face, knew her face, anywhere. He spun her around, wanting a better look at her, crashed her body back against the wall with his, pinning her wrists over her head with one hand and flipping the light switch with the tip of the gun. Sweet christ he’d almost forgotten how gut-wrenchingly enticing she was. “Mila. God dammit Mila what are you doing here?” he said, breathing the scent of her dark hair and tightening his body hold on her further. Her brown eyes, wide and frank in a flawless face, gazed at him fiercely; but her tempting lips were silent. She was stunning, more than merely beautiful, and they’d crossed paths more than once. But always at cross purposes. Sometimes he won, sometimes he didn’t. But she always left him hungry, wanting more than just the prize.
..just a little taste now or you might get burnt - it's very very spicy
26 luglio not much to show for the day is it?Beginnings of Chapter 15-
“You really are a nice bloke aren’t you, Jim?” Jim leapt back as the bacon popped and sizzled in the pan then glanced round at Christiana. She was eyeing him speculatively over her tea mug. “I don’t know, I guess it depends.” “Depends on what?’ “Whether that’s an insult or a compliment,” he said with a grin, even though he thought he’d detected a note of sarcasm. She didn’t answer, just gave him a derisive raise of her eyebrow and sipped at her tea. The bacon popped again and he pushed it around with the spatula. Any minute now she was going to bolt, he’d bet on it. Chrissie’d dissappeared into the bathroom as soon as she woke and emerged fully dressed with a covergirl face on. She’d asked after a hairdryer and he’d had to admit he didn’t have one. She was still pulling at the damp strands, curling them around her fingers. Her bag was sitting by the front door, where her coat hung. He turned to offer her a reassuring smile, her gaze making him feel self-conscious in his shorts and socks. Maybe she just felt embarrassed or something. He could understand that, in the circumstances. He hoped that was the problem anyway.
So what's your impression of him and her? |
|
|