Release Tour

Title: Jigsaw
Series: Hell’s Handlers MC
Author: Lilly Atlas
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: November 6, 2018

 

After being disappointed by her family one too many times, Izzy’s convinced the only person she needs is herself. Seeking a life with fewer relationships, she leaves the bustle of the city and moves to small-town Tennessee. Her plans for quiet and solitude don’t last long after she’s adopted by both the men and women of the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle Club.
 
Once upon a time, Lincoln had a picture-perfect life. Sweet, loving wife, beautiful daughter, enviable career. But one fated night, it’s all wiped out, leaving him scarred both mentally and physically. Now known as Jigsaw, he’s a force to be reckoned with, and a valuable asset to the Hell’s Handlers MC. He’s also done. Done with love, done with dreams, done with women…unless it’s to work off some tension.
 
Despite their resolve to avoid entanglements, chemistry blazes between Jig and Izzy and becomes harder to resist with each encounter. When the club’s enemies set their sights on Izzy, the Handlers pull her even further into the fold. Everything Izzy believes about families is challenged as Jig and his club prove they can be counted on again and again.
 
Fighting side by side with a fearless woman, even one as smokin’ as Izzy, isn’t something Jig wants, but it might be exactly what he needs. If club business doesn’t destroy them, do Jig and Izzy stand a chance of letting their pasts go and finding happiness?

Island Girl Romance Reads – “Lilly Atlas is quickly becoming one of my favorite MC author! Her books are amazing.”


MJ’s Book Blog and Reviews – “Another highly enjoyable read from Lilly Atlas and I give Jigsaw 5 stars.”


Beyond the Covers Blog – “This author has such an amazing gift at making you feel like you were there in that book and I can’t wait to see where she take Copper’s book.”

A full five minutes early for his appointment, Jigsaw shouldered through the door into Inked, the one and only tattoo shop in Townsend, Tennessee. But even if it wasn’t the lone ink provider, even if there was a tattoo shop on every corner, it’d be the only one to receive his business. Inked was the best, by far. Rip was a master with a tattoo machine and could bring anyone’s vision to life.
 

 

Maverick and Rocket filed in after him, immediately taking seats on the ratty couch butted up against the display window. His brothers had tagged along despite knowing how much Jig hated an audience for this.

 

 

 

 

Every year on his wife and child’s birthdays, which just happened to be only three days apart, Jig added to a tattoo on his thigh. Without fail, it put him in a shitty mood, and his brothers damn well knew it. But they couldn’t just leave him the fuck alone. They had to stick their fucking noses in his shit and follow him, so he didn’t “do something stupid.”

 

 

 

 

Every damn year.

 

 

 

 

Assholes.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, Jig,” Rip called out. “Lemme talk to you for a second.” He stepped from behind the privacy curtain pulled around his customer. To say the shop was simple would be a ridiculous understatement. Inked was about as no-frills as it came, with two tattoo stations, a reception desk, a second-hand couch, and a few sketches on the wall. Rip didn’t give a shit about the décor or ambiance. He gave damn good ink and had the reputation to prove it.

 

 

 

 

“What’s up, Rip?” Jig asked after Rip waddled his large frame cross the shop.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, I’m running about forty-five minutes behind, man. I’m sorry.” Rip gave Jig a sheepish half smile.

 

 

 

 

From the couch, Maverick laughed and rubbed his hands together. “Woohoo, does this mean Jig gets to have his face inked on you?”

 

 

 

 

Not one to find much shit funny, Jig snorted. Rip was a bit of a psycho when it came to lateness. Threatened to tattoo his face on a client if they were late to their appointment. He’d done it before, too, the bastard. That was the reason Jig never let himself be later than five minutes early. Last thing he needed was Rip’s ugly mug on his ass cheek.

 

 

 

 

“I really am sorry, man,” Rip said. He ran a hand through his receding gray hair and shifted uncomfortably, seemingly flustered, which wasn’t him.

 

 

 

 

“Everything good?” Jig asked.

 

 

 

 

Rip lowered his voice. “Yeah, just had this broad come in crying a few minutes ago. Breast cancer survivor who recently had some reconstructive surgery. Wanted me to ink nipples on her. Someone recommended me specifically, and she’s unwilling to go to anyone else.”

 

 

 

 

“Well, fuck me, Rip,” Mav said. “Why didn’t you start with that? Now I feel like an ass for ragging on you.”

 

 

 

 

With a shrug, Rip swiped the back of his hand across his forehead. “Shit, I’m sweating, guys. This is a lot of pressure.”

 

 

 

 

This time, Jig let out a small laugh. “You did all our Hell’s Handlers back pieces without blinking an eye, and you’re afraid of some nipples?”

 

 

 

 

“It’s a big deal,” Rip grumbled.

 

 

 

 

Jig slapped him on the back. “Hey, man, no worries. I can reschedule.” In reality, the change to his schedule pissed him off, but what the fuck could he do? He wasn’t about to be the asshole who pulled Rip away from a cancer survivor. Jig might be an unfeeling bastard, but he wasn’t a robot.

 

 

 

 

“Nah, not necessary,” Rip said as he walked toward the desk. “I got someone else who can do it.”

 

 

 

 

Jig froze and scanned the shop. It was then he realized there was a curtain pulled around the second chair as well. Muffled voices could be heard from behind the fabric wall but not well enough to make out what was being said. “You telling me you actually hired some help?”

 

 

 

 

For the past two years, Rip had been saying he needed to hire a second artist. Ever the control freak, no one actually thought he’d let another professional into his shop. He found fault with every other artist out there.

 

 

 

 

“Yeah, I did. They’re just finishing up the aftercare convo. Then you can meet ’em.”

 

 

 

 

“I don’t know.” Jig frowned. No one but Rip had gone near his skin with ink and needle.

 

 

 

 

“They’re good, Jig. Wouldn’ta hired ’em otherwise. Trained ’em myself actually. About ten years ago, right before I moved to the area and opened up shop. Take a look at some of their work.” He dug around behind his desk and pulled out a beat-up binder, laying it out on the counter.

 

 

 

 

Like a bunch of teenage chicks who didn’t want to miss out on the gossip, Mav and Rocket hopped up to join him at the reception desk.

 

 

 

 

Mav, who had more inked skin than not, whistled. “Shit, Rip. These are fucking amazing. This guy might do better work than you.”

 

 

 

 

It was meant as a joke, but Rip snorted and nodded. There was definite truth to Maverick’s words. The lines were so precise, the images so vivid and perfect, it was hard to believe they were done by a human hand. One of the photos was a butterfly that looked like it was literally lifting off some chick’s shoulder. Amazing.

 

 

 

 

“Give ’em a shot,” Rip said. “Promise they’ll do you right.”

 

 

 

 

Jig sighed and rubbed a hand across his jaw. Time to trim his beard. He’d gotten lazy the past few weeks and had let the growth get a little out of control. He always kept some amount of facial hair because it covered the bottom third of his scar, but he tried to keep it neat. Most of the time. “All right, man. Let’s do it.”

 

 

 

 

Seemed like Rip was really trying to push the new guy. Probably wanted to build up his clientele. If the work in his portfolio was an accurate reflection of the guy’s skill, he’d be a fool to turn down this artist. He could help a friend out and get some quality ink in the process.

 

 

 

 

“Great.” Rip’s yellow-toothed smile beamed. “Oh, here she comes now.”

 

 

 

 

“Wait, what?”

 

 

 

 

She?

 

 

 

 

Maverick coughed in a weak attempt to cover his laughter, but it quickly turned to a gasp.

 

 

 

 

Oh, yeah,” he said under his breath. “That one’ll do you right, Jig.”

 

 

 

 

“Holy fuck,” Rocket whispered.

 

 

 

 

Rip wore a shit-eating grin, the fuckstick. He’d purposefully misled them into thinking it was a dude. Jig didn’t want some bitch getting anywhere near him with a needle. He flipped his brothers off and spun to check out this lady tattoo artist for himself.

 

 

 

 

Ho-ly shiit.

 

 

 

 

About five-feet-eight inches—and that was without the four-inch stilettos—of pure sex and sin strutted her way straight toward him. Somehow, this woman had poured herself into the tightest black leather pants he’d ever seen. They molded around her long, shapely legs and, damn, if he didn’t wish for her to turn around. He just bet she had a stellar ass that would only be enhanced by the grip of soft leather.

 

 

 

 

With each step, the side to side sway of her hips drew his eye like he was watching the pendulum of a clock swing back and forth. Forcing his gaze from her hips, he trailed it upward, not oblivious to the tight black tank top that cupped her breasts as snugly as the leather cupped her thighs.

 

 

 

 

“Hey, boys,” she said, her voice on the lower side. Husky, he’d call it.

 

 

 

 

Mav whistled. “Damn, woman. And I say this in a totally non-creepy, non-flirting way because I have a woman that would shoot off my junk if I so much as hit on another chick, but you are some kinda fucking gorgeous.”

 

 

 

 

Jig ground his teeth together as the new lady tattoo artist threw her head back and let out a throaty laugh. Fucking Maverick. Flirting and charming women was just part of his DNA. He truly meant it when he said he wasn’t hitting on her. The man just couldn’t let a beautiful woman walk away without her knowing she was gorgeous.

 

 

 

 

“Aren’t you the charmer,” she said, placing her hands on those fantastic hips.

 

 

 

 

Damn, her body was out of this world. Not skinny, not even too curvy, it was more…athletic. Sleek lines with swells of muscle in her arms and a flat stomach. The girl must spend some serious hours in the gym.

 

 

 

 

“Guys, this here is Isabella. I taught her everything she knew about ten years ago. She finally agreed to move here and work with me.” Rip beamed with pride as he introduced his protégé.

 

 

 

 

“Please,” she said, “call me Izzy. One of you boys looking for some ink?”

 

 

 

 

Fuck no.

 

 

 

 

Wasn’t happening.

 

 

 

 

Rocket cleared his throat like he had a whole steak lodged in there. If the asshole wasn’t careful, he’d have Jig’s fist lodged down there instead.

 

 

 

 

A hand slapped down on his shoulder. “My man Jig here needs some ink.”

 

 

 

 

Fuckin’ Maverick.

 

 

 

 

“Don’t want to mess up your schedule,” Jig said. “I’ll come back when Rip can fit me in.”

 

 

 

 

Rip’s face fell, making Jig feel like scum. Wasn’t the shop owner’s fault that Jig wanted nothing to do with most women. Unless he was fucking them. That was pretty much the only time he associated with them. Of course, his brothers’ ol’ ladies couldn’t seem to leave his ass alone. Always trying to bring him food, fix him up, and acting like freaking mother hens around him.

 

 

 

 

Especially Mav’s woman, Stephanie. He’d helped rescue her from a fucking psycho not long ago, so now he’d become her special project.

 

 

 

 

“Oh, I’ll, uh, check my book.” Rip waddled behind his desk and flipped through his old-school appointment book.

 

 

 

 

Izzy’s dark, almost black eyes just stared at him, hands on her hips, earning her Jig’s scowl. Who the hell did this bitch think she was?

 

 

 

 

Instead of caving under his murderous glare, one of her perfect black eyebrows arched high into her forehead. “You afraid your dick will invert if a woman puts some ink on you?”

 

 

 

 

She had a set of balls, he’d give her that much. “Nah, I—”

 

 

 

 

“I’ve inked hundreds, actually thousands of dudes.” She gasped and covered her mouth with her unpolished fingertips. “Shit, I’ve even tatted some bikers.”

 

 

 

 

Behind him, Mav and Rocket chuckled. Fuckers were enjoying this way too much.

 

 

 

 

Izzy leaned closer and dropped her volume. “Promise you, bubba, not one of those guys grew a pussy because I was the one holding the needle.”

 

 

 

 

A strangled sound came from Rocket, and Maverick flat-out laughed. Rip joined in, and soon the three of them were cackling like a bunch of fucking hyenas.

 

 

 

 

Goddamnit. Not only had she interrupted him, sassed him, and tossed attitude at him, she’d thrown down a challenge. His damned male pride left him no choice.

 

 

 

 

“Show me to your chair,” he grumbled.

 

 

 

 

A massive grin of victory broke out across her gorgeous face. “Follow me, bubba,” she said as she spun on one of those pencil-thin heels then sashayed to her station.

 

 

 

 

And fuck if he didn’t feel a twitch of his dick and a twitch of his lips. Where his cock’s interest came from, he had no idea. Miss Izzy couldn’t be further from his usual type.

 

 

 

 

He liked ’em blonde, blue-eyed, small, sweet, and docile. Not tall, dark-haired, and mouthy. She’d even shaved the sides of her head, adding to her badass-bitch look.

 

 

 

 

But as he watched the very long tail of a tight braid swinging back and forth across the top of what was, without a doubt, a stellar ass, he couldn’t deny his animal attraction to her.

 

 

 

 

Fuck. This was gonna be a shitty few hours.

 

Lilly Atlas is a contemporary romance author, proud Navy wife, and mother of two spunky girls. By day she works as a physical therapist for a hospital in Virginia. Lilly is an avid romance reader, and expects her Kindle to beg for mercy every time she downloads a new eBook. Thankfully, it hasn’t happened yet, and she can often be found absorbed in a good book.

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Release Tour/Giveaway

Title: Book Boyfriend
Author: Dawn L. Chiletz
Genre: Contemporary Romance Standalone
Release Date: November 2, 2018
I’ve completely had it with men. I’m done.
 
And in case you were wondering, book boyfriends aren’t real. I should know because I write them.
 
My name is Greer Hanson. I think I’ve lost my mojo. After having my heart broken, I can’t seem to write about romance or love. When my best friend and publisher recommends an inspiration vacation, I decide to give it a whirl. What’s the worst that could happen?
 
Enter the perfect stranger. Patrick Fisher knocks me off my feet with his rugged good looks and charm. After one night with him, the words begin to flow. Since I know I’ll never see him again, I use him as my muse. But what do I do when my fantasy comes to life and that man steps right out of the pages of my book? 
 
Book Boyfriends can’t be real. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Am I willing to risk having my heart broken all over again?
 
Maybe this time reality will be better than fiction.
 

Dawn L. Chiletz resides in Illinois with her two amazing boys and three loving dogs. When she’s not binge writing or reading, you’ll most likely find her somewhere on social media making a sarcastic comment or watching animal reunion stories while she cries like a baby. 
 
To find out more information, including her upcoming signings, please visit her website at: 
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Release Tour

Title: Goodbye, Kate
Author: Nicola Haken
Genre: Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 29, 2018
Cover Design: Sommer Stein at Perfect Pear Creative Covers

Goodbye, Kate is a thrilling, unpredictable ride ~ Heather, White Hot Reads

 

Deception, action, drama, angst, and love ~ Stephanie, Goodreads Reviewer 

 

Truly phenomenal read! ~ Michelle, One Click Aholics


Crime families and mob wars only exist in the movies. Betrayal. Violence. Murder. They don’t happen to ordinary people.
 
Right?
 
Wrong.
 
For Lincoln Hollis, this is his world, and there isn’t a clapperboard in sight. A trained killer and advocate of justice, he’s been sent to unravel the neat little bow tied around Kate Fletcher’s perfect life, exposing her to the brutal truths she’s been so meticulously shielded from, before delivering the ultimate punishment for her family’s sins.
 
There’s just one problem. They’re his family’s sins, too, and he must make a choice.
 
Who will he say goodbye to first?
Nicola lives in Rochdale, England with her husband and four children. She is the author of multi-genre romance, including the Amazon international bestseller, Broken. When she is not busy playing with her imaginary friends (or talking about them with real life friends) she can usually be found carrying out her ordinary mum/housewife/all-round-slave duties, bingeing on boxsets, drinking too much Pepsi Max, or fussing over her menagerie of pets. Oh, and if the kids ever ask, she moonlights as the Pink Power Ranger while they’re sleeping…
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Release Tour

Title: The Last Resort Motel: Room 666
Author: Geri Glenn
Genre: Romance Thriller
Release Date: October 23, 2018
Unappreciated. Lonely. Betrayed.
 
Shelby Sanders’ life had never been much to brag about. An alcoholic mother, a rusty old trailer, and not a hope in the world to change any of it for something better.
That’s why she left. That’s how she ended up at the Last Resort Motel. And that’s how she finds herself on the set of one of TVs hottest paranormal investigation shows.
 
Garrett is the host of Paranormal 911. He’s hot, broody and as protective as he is standoffish. He invited her along to that ghost town with a cocky smile and a kiss that made her heart stutter. But neither of them ever dreamed something would follow them home. Something evil. Something neither of them can see.
 
Now Shelby’s in real danger and Garret can only pray he knows how to save her before she ends up dead. Or worse.

Geri Glenn is the international best-selling author of Kings Of Korruption MC Series. 
 
Geri and her family just recently bought their dream home in her hometown of Brockville, Ontario, Canada. She is a military wife, the mother of two gorgeous, but slightly crazy little girls, and is a full time writer of the ultimate alpha male.
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Release Tour

Title: Destroying Dominic
Series: Genoa Mafia Series Book 3
Author: Ginger Ring
Genre: Mafia Lite, Romantic Suspense
Release Date: October 23, 2018
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Dominic
I don’t dance.
I don’t date.
I don’t fall in love.
 
But there’s one woman who does intrigue me—Stephanie Barclay, the best friend of my boss’s wife. The same boss who wants Stephanie dead.
 
What’s the use? I make people disappear for the mob. What self-respecting woman would want to spend her life with a cleaner? That ship sailed a long time ago. Besides, relationships make you weak. But what if she is already a target? 
 
Stephanie
I plan weddings.
I make people’s dreams come true. 
 
I write stories about the love of a lifetime, but where’s my happily-ever-after and white dress?
 
My past is a nightmare, a death sentence for anyone who discovers it. No one would be able to see beyond my background—except Dominic Scarlatti, the man who just a couple months ago killed and buried a monster for me. 
He may be a nightmare to others, but I’m determined to make him my hero. Even if it kills me.

 

“DOMINIC…Damaged. Sexy. Badass. Protective. Loyal. A loner. Quiet. Loved to read. He was a solid book boyfriend material.” – Early Reviewer
“Mafia romance hot sexy men, women who stand up for them and lots of action what more can you ask for.” – Early Reviewer
“Love Dom!!!” – Early Reviewer

 

 

Ginger Ring is an award winning author with a weakness for cheese, dark chocolate, and the Green Bay Packers. She loves reading, watching great movies, and has a quirky sense of humor. Publishing a book has been a lifelong dream of hers and she is excited to share her romantic stories with you. Her heroines are classy, sassy and in search of love and adventure. When Ginger isn’t tracking down old gangster haunts or stopping at historical landmarks, you can find her on the backwaters of the Mississippi River fishing with her husband.
 
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Release Tour

 
Title: NEVERLAND
Author: Melissa Jane
Genre: Romantic Thriller
Release Date: October 2, 2018
On a fateful, stormy night, a ghost from the past revealed himself under the glow of a street lamp. A ghost whose smile was as cold and dangerous as his heart.
 
He remembered her well.
 
She was the one everyone talked about. The poor girl down the street born into a family of monsters. The one he’d obsessed over, taunted and harassed.
 
The very same girl who’d one day suddenly disappeared.
 
Accepting his hand, he lifted her off the dirty, vile street and whispered a promise, “No good deed comes without payment,” and from that day on, she was destined to pay the ultimate price. 
 
Seeing her for the first time since she’d vanished all those years ago, had only made him realize his obsession never truly ended.
 
And now, with a promise to keep, he was going to make her disappear again…
 
this time forever.

 
Melissa Jane is a writer of strong Alpha’s and feisty heroines. Her love for action and romance means she puts her characters through some epic adventures and compromising situations, all with a healthy dose of uncontrollable passion. 
 
Residing on the beautiful beachy Gold Coast in Australia, Melissa enjoys the year-round sunshine with her gorgeous husband and even more gorgeous furbaby, Pocket-the-Yorkie. 
 
When she’s not working, you’ll often find her with a glass (ahem…bottle) of Sauvignon in hand, seeking out adventure with her just-as-crazy friends. 
 
Follow Melissa for all new releases & discover her tales of dangerous love x
 
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Release Tour

Title: Maz 
Series: Westside Skulls MC Book 6
Author: Jessie Cooke
Genre: MC Romance
Release Date: October 1, 2018
 
Maz always knew he wasn’t the best-looking guy in the room, but he was okay with that. He was big and tough, and he fitted right in with his brothers at the Westside Skulls. He loved his job there as an enforcer. He came from a good family, and despite some struggles overcoming feelings of abandonment he had from being left by his biological mother when he was just a baby, he really had nothing to complain about…except that he was lonely. Being average-looking wasn’t what kept Maz lonely. He didn’t need the piercing blue eyes of Dax Marshall or the smoldering dark good looks of his club’s SA Bruf. He attracted many women…he had a secret weapon. Maz’s first language was French, and American women were drawn to his accent. Maz could take almost any woman in the room home with him if he wanted to…but his other secret was what made him so lonely. Maz had the anatomy of a porn star, and one look at his equipment sent most women scrambling for the door. He’d almost given up on finding a woman who would fall in love with him and be able to handle him in bed as well, when Marissa walked into his life.
 

 

Marissa spent most of her adult life taking care of her diabetic mother and she wasn’t looking for anything other than a plane ticket to the East Coast and time to travel, when Maz came into her life. She tried to deny it, but the chemistry was much too overwhelming and the two of them clicked, over almost everything…most especially in bed. Marissa was certain she’d found her soulmate and Maz seemed to think the same thing too…until suddenly he left town, taking an assignment for his club two thousand miles away that might not see him making it home.

 

 

 

 

Marissa wants to know why Maz ran. Maz doesn’t want to know the old family secret he discovered. Will the star-crossed lovers find their way back to each other…or will the explosive secret Maz now holds in his hands, destroy them both and take down two families in the process?

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Book 6 in the Westside Skulls MC Series. 

 


This is a Standalone Romance Novel but characters from this story, will appear in future books in the series.

 

 

HEA and No cliffhanger.

 

 

Intended for Mature Readers.

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Westside Skulls MC Series is about members of the MC club, their friends and associates. 

 


Each story, while focused around one main character, is not necessarily about a Westside Skulls club member, but the story is related to Skulls members and the club.

 

 


 
 
“Oh, fuck no! No way. You’re not touching me with that thing! Jesus, you need to find yourself a porn star if you want a woman to touch that.” Chelsea scrambled off the bed as if maybe Maz had pulled out a rat, or a snake. Of course, that was what he’d named it, the snake. She was staring at him from across the room now with her chest heaving and her big blue eyes filled with fear. Maz was disappointed, but not surprised. He had hoped this one would be different, but he’d been disappointed so many times before that he was used to it.Maz had only just met Chelsea a few hours before in a club that he’d found on his way back from a ride to Merced. He’d gone to pick something up for Wolf, and Wolf had given him extra cash for a motel room so that he didn’t have to make the ride in one day. The club was downstairs from his room and he could hear the music booming as soon as he’d walked into the lobby earlier. He’d taken a shower and left his kutte in his hotel room before going downstairs with one thing on his mind. Maz was proud to be a part of the Westside Skulls, but sometimes the colors got people all worked up…and tonight he didn’t want to fight, he wanted…no, scratch that, he needed…to fuck.

For the past month and a half Maz had been embroiled in an exclusive and intensely unsatisfying relationship with his right hand. He needed hot flesh, someone else’s flesh. He needed curves and big breasts in his face. He needed a tight, wet pussy wrapped around his cock…and he was hoping tonight he could find that.

He walked into the loud, dark club and took a seat at the bar. The club was so crowded that Maz could hardly hear himself think. He’d only been there a few minutes when a fifty-something blonde with a nice body sat next to him and started talking. He was only able to make out every fourth or fifth word she was saying, but that was okay with him, he wasn’t there for the titillating conversation. He smiled at her and nodded in what he hoped were the right places. She seemed interested in him, which was a good thing, and she was sober, which was even better. Yep…unless she had a dick underneath that short dress she was wearing, she’d do just fine…he hoped.

“So, then I moved to California!” She was suddenly yelling in his ear and he realized the loud music had stopped. She giggled. “Oh, I’m sorry. I probably broke your eardrum.”

Maz smiled. He wasn’t movie star good-looking like Ash, or mysterious and overly masculine like Wolf…or even sulky and dark like Sledge. He was simply average, in his opinion. He was the kind of guy that most women could pass on the street and not be able to pick out of a lineup twenty minutes later. But he could work with that, thanks to his beloved maman.

“My eardrum is just fine, belle femme.” The blonde’s eyes widened, and he saw her go from semi-interested to full-on lust in seconds. His accent was his secret weapon.

When he was a year and a half old, his dad had married a French woman. She had moved to New Orleans earlier, seeking a new life after having her heart broken in Paris. Maz’s father had been there to pick up the pieces. His stepmother Elise turned out to be the best thing that ever happened to Maz and his father. The baby boy had been abandoned by his mother and left with a father who loved him but had no idea what to do with a baby. Maz’s aunt told him stories when he got older about how frightened his father was to even touch him when he was little. She lived on the West Coast, and they lived in New Orleans, and Maz’s father would routinely call her at 2 a.m., begging her to fly out and help him. He’d tried and tried to hire a live-in nanny, but every time the applicants found out that he was a single father, they disappeared. Maz’s dad was a big guy…huge, as a matter of fact…so the women’s reluctance to move into his home with him was understandable, but to Maz’s detriment.

By the time his father met Elise, Maz was grossly overweight, not talking at all, and barely walking. Elise had stepped in and taken over, and within a year she had the boy off the bottle, slimmed down to a healthy weight, running, not just walking…and talking up a storm. Of course, his father couldn’t understand a word he said, because he was talking in French. He’d had to learn English as his second language when he started school and it had left him with a strong accent, one that women adored.

“What a lovely accent,” she said. “French?”

“Oui.” She actually shuddered. Yeah, this one was definitely interested…at least for now.

“What’s your name?” she asked.

“Maz, what’s yours?”

“Maz…I’ve never heard that before. Is it French?”

“Oui,” he lied. His name was Zane Zimmerman. The guys in the club had renamed him Maz and he liked it. Zane was too connected to his past, and he was happy to leave it there.

“I’m Chelsea.”

Maz lifted her hand off the bar and brought it to his lips. “Honore de vous rencontrer belle.” He could feel the heat coming off her body as her face flushed, and she let out a little gasp and he knew he had her. Only one drink later and a quick spin around the dance floor, where he was careful to keep his hardening cock from brushing up against her, he had her back up in his room and the little skirt around her ankles.

He was sitting on the bed, still fully clothed, and he had her standing in front of him…gloriously naked. For an older woman, she had a smoking hot body, and his cock was aching. He reached up with one hand and hooked it behind her head, pulling her down in a deep, sexy kiss. She moaned into his mouth and when she broke the kiss and stood, she put her hands in his curly black hair and pulled his face to her breasts. He began to feast hotly on them, licking her smooth flesh and nibbling on her nipples. She liked it when he used the sides of his teeth to scrape along the outside of the nipple, judging by the moans and soft curses escaping from her lips. He reached between her legs as he suckled on her other nipple and found her sopping-wet pussy. He began to stroke it lightly, up and down her puffy lips, lightly skimming her clit from time to time and making her whimper. He kissed his way from her breasts down her belly, licking around her bellybutton as she pushed his head down lower.

He could feel her getting wetter while he stroked her and just before his mouth reached her mound, he slid a finger up inside of her. She cried out and arched her back so that her pelvis was tipped in his direction. He pushed another calloused finger up inside of her. She was fucking tight, and as excited as that thought made him, he knew it also didn’t bode well for how the rest of the night might go. He shook that thought off when his tongue reached her mound and he could smell her sex and how badly she wanted him.

He stood up and deftly avoided her hand, which was reaching toward the massive bulge in his jeans. He wasn’t ready to find out just yet what she was going to think of it. He nudged her down so she was sitting on the bed and then, dropping to his knees, he picked up her legs and threw them over his broad shoulders. She cried out as soon as his face descended on her pussy. Her hands went to her breasts as she lifted her hips even higher to meet his mouth and she twisted, pinched, and pulled on her own nipples. Maz let his tongue come out and he licked her from one end of her beautiful, smooth pussy to the other. She took her right hand off her breast and reached down and used it to open up her lips to him. One thing he did love about older women…they weren’t shy about their bodies. They knew what they wanted, what they liked…and they went for it.

Maz opened his mouth and covered the entire opening of her pussy with it. He began to lick at the sensitive skin on the insides of her lips, probing her opening with his tongue, teasing her. She moved her left hand down too and with that one she wrapped his hair around her fingers and pushed his face in even deeper. He moved it back and forth, tickling her with the light stubble on his chin. She was breathing heavily and making loud noises. He didn’t care if the whole floor heard them; if she let him fuck her, he was sure it wouldn’t be quiet. It was going to be quick and he wasn’t going to be gentle…he knew that already, simply because he needed it so fucking badly.

Chelsea tightened the muscles in her legs and used them as leverage to raise her hips up and down…fucking herself against his face. He pushed his tongue up inside of her as far as it would go and pressed his nose against her engorged clit. She was getting louder and more excited, ripping at his hair so hard that he wasn’t sure he’d have any left by the time he was finished. When her body tightened up she let out a scream that was nothing but lust, and satisfaction. He felt the warm gush of her orgasm and he continued to lick and suck lightly until she began to relax and her legs, up on his shoulders, began to quiver. He lifted his head and looked at her face. She was flushed, and her eyes were dilated…she was drunk with lust…now was the time. He gently took her legs off his shoulders and lowered them, and then he stood up and pulled off his shirt. She sat up and ran her hand over the tattoo on his chest. It was a cross being held by a pair of praying hands and the words “Carpe Diem” were emblazoned across it. Maz had learned a long time ago how to seize the day, and it was one of his favorite sayings. And right then, he wanted to seize the moment.

He lay down next to her on the bed and said, “Chelsea, I want to fuck you so badly.”

She rolled over to face him and put her hands on either side of his face, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. She raised one leg and draped it over his hip and then he felt her rub herself against the front of his jeans…against his throbbing cock. That was the first sign that his night wasn’t going to end on the note he’d been hoping for. She’d looked up at his face and said, “Damn, that’s a huge bulge.”

He smiled and said, “Objects in the jeans are larger than they appear.” He thought it was funny, but all he’d gotten from her was a polite chuckle.

She moved her leg and said, “Are you going to take them off…the jeans?”

He couldn’t stall any longer, and truth be told, he didn’t want to. God, he needed to feel himself buried inside of the woman. He wouldn’t tell her, but any woman, really. He just needed to fuck, the good old-fashioned way. He unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and when he pushed them down and she saw the top of his cock protruding from his shorts, that was when her eyes had grown wide. When he pushed down his shorts and she saw the full monte…all ten and a half extremely fat inches of him…the start of another frustratingly lonely night began.

 

Jessie Cooke writes hot romance novels about tough guys, bad boys, bikers, fighters and lovers and the women of strong character who tame them.

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