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Make Mine Midnight Page 7


  Another knock jarred her face and then she heard Taggert’s voice, low and entreating.

  “Emmy, open the door.”

  She swallowed once and slowly pulled away until she was an arm’s length from the locks, her hand still on the top one. As she turned it, the click echoed harshly.

  With shaking fingers, she worked down until she reached the last. She grasped the knob and turned, cracking the door and bracing her free hand on the frame.

  Her gaze met and locked first with Taggert and then Greer. They filled the doorway, the entire hallway, and God, they looked just as she remembered. Stetsons, faded jeans and boots.

  For the longest time she stared and they stared back. Then Greer stepped forward but halted when she retreated a step.

  “Open the door, Emmy,” he said softly.

  Her knees trembling, she eased the door wider until there was a gaping space, more space than she’d allowed in a year. Greer’s expression softened, his leaf green eyes filled with regret. Then he simply opened his arms.

  The first step was the hardest, but suddenly she found herself in his warm embrace. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the faint smells of tobacco and horses, two scents that seemed permanently branded on him.

  She shook against him, but the tears wouldn’t come. Her eyes were so dry they hurt.

  He lifted her and walked with her into the apartment. Taggert closed the door behind them, and she turned to see him fingering the locks, a scowl on his face.

  “Have you cried even once, Emmy?” Greer asked quietly as he held her.

  It made her sound so heartless. She hadn’t cried. Not at the hospital when they told her Sean was gone. Not at his funeral or afterward when they buried him in the family plot on Mountain Pass land. Not in the many months since. Crying made it all so…final.

  She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed. It felt so good to be back in his arms.

  “I missed you,” she whispered.

  “Aww Em, we missed you too,” Greer said in a low voice.

  Taggert made an impatient sound, and she pulled away from Greer to stare at the oldest Donovan brother.

  “Why the hell did you disappear on us, Emmy?” Taggert demanded. “You were Sean’s wife. We would have taken care of you. The MPR is your home. It’s always been your home. Long before you married Sean. Frank’s going crazy. No one’s seen you. And now we find you holed up like a prisoner in an apartment in the city. You hate the city.”

  Her hand flew to her throat, her pulse pounding against her fingers.

  “I told Frank I couldn’t do it anymore,” she cracked out. “He knows. I told him not to look for me. I can’t—won’t—sing.”

  “You think that’s all he cares about?” Taggert asked. “He’s your manager, but that doesn’t mean he’s a complete mercenary asshole. He’s worried sick over you. We all are.”

  “Tagg, enough,” Greer warned.

  Taggert threw up one hand and turned away, his entire body simmering with frustration. Then he turned back around and pinned her with the force of his stare. Warm, liquid chocolate. She’d always loved his eyes. They made his already dark looks even darker, but she’d never been afraid of him. He’d always been her Tagg, and she’d always loved him.

  “Come here, damn it,” he said gruffly.

  She only hesitated a moment before she walked into his arms. He hugged her fiercely, stealing her breath with the force of his grip. But God, for the first time in a year, she felt safe.

  His breath whispered roughly over her hair, her only signal of the turmoil that rolled beneath his tough exterior.

  “Goddamn it, Emmy, what were you thinking?”

  She couldn’t answer. The words were lodged in her throat, so thick and swollen she feared choking. She concentrated on breathing, taking in his solid strength and the crisp, clean smell of his shirt. He still used the same detergent, the same plain deodorant. No frills, no aftershave, no cologne.

  He pried her away from him, holding her shoulders as he stared down at her.

  “You’re coming home with us.”

  The higher she climbs, the harder he falls…

  Bridging the Gap

  © 2009 Annmarie McKenna

  Carter Malone is usually the first one to make tracks before a woman starts getting any ideas. Permanent relationships don’t fit into his personal blueprint. Now, for the first time in his life, he’s burning up the sheets with a woman who makes him think about something more permanent…like spending the night. But she’s holding something back, something he can’t quite pin down.

  As a woman in a man’s world, Ryan Cooper is used to wearing a target on her back—and hiding her vulnerabilities. She hasn’t let anything, not even the ever-present threat of an epileptic seizure, stop her from working her butt off to get the foreman’s job with her stepfather’s construction company. Then she discovers the guy she’s been dating—okay, having the hottest sex of her life with—is the architect who designed the building she’ll be overseeing. The last thing she needs is anyone thinking she slept with Carter to get the job.

  Or worse, feeling sorry for her.

  Before the dust clears, things get a lot more complicated. The previous foreman’s injury was no accident, and whoever caused it is taking aim—at the target on Ryan’s back.

  Warning: This book contains almost fully clothed sex with a little bit o’ spanking on an OCD-clean desk inside a construction trailer, a rogue set of pencils that just won’t take stay for an answer, and sweet loving in a tub.

  Enjoy the following excerpt for Bridging the Gap:

  Aware that he was smashing the beautiful woman beneath him, Carter Malone slowly extracted himself from the tight sheath still gripping his cock and rolled to his side. Ryan groaned with what he hoped was reluctance to let him go. He removed the spent condom, reached for a tissue to wrap it in and dropped it on the floor to deal with later, then fell to his back.

  She was consuming him alive. Two weeks into their…dating—is that what she would call their relationship? Because there hadn’t been many dates—and he was already more aware of her than he’d ever been about any other woman. And if he knew a lot about anything other than architecture, it was women. Precious, soft, willing women. He didn’t get off on forcing them to do his bidding, though tying one up now and then might add to the sexual tension.

  He wondered what Ryan would think of the direction his thoughts had gone. Would she run? Profess her undying love? Invite him to seek the advice of a psychologist?

  Hell, what was he thinking? Outside of fucking, he didn’t know a great deal about her. They’d literally bumped into each other at a charity event he’d attended at his mother’s request. He didn’t even remember what the hell the event had been held for. Raising money for some affliction or another. From there they’d ended up at her place, something he was sure she’d either A) never done before or B) if she had, rarely. He had the feeling he was her first. Not partner, but taking a man home immediately after meeting him.

  Made him feel possessive as all shit.

  Carter rubbed a hand over his face as his breathing finally subsided into a more normal rhythm. He must be getting old.

  Jesus. Was his clock ticking? Did that happen to men?

  “I think I’m dead,” she groaned next to him.

  He smiled and propped himself on his elbow. Unable to resist, he ran his fingertips over the sweat-slicked skin between her breasts. Her nipples puckered and she shivered. “Nah. If you were dead, we wouldn’t be able to do that again, and that would be a damn shame.”

  She lifted her head and glanced down his torso to find his dick echoing his words and hardening.

  “Right this second?”

  Carter laughed at the incredulous look on her face. “I’ll give you a few minutes recovery time first.”

  “You’re so gracious.” She sighed and threw an arm over her eyes. “I have to get up.”

  “Bathroom?”

  “Th
at too.”

  Thank God the fact her face was covered hid his confusion. What other reason would she have to get up? “You got a hot date?”

  “Yep. With my bed.” She dragged herself to a sitting position and Carter swallowed.

  Why should he care if she wanted to run out on him? He typically led his dates back to their house so he could make the getaway before things got to the point of wanting to stay the night.

  “I was kinda thinking you might stay the night.” Pathetic, man. Pathetic.

  “I can’t. Have to start a new job tomorrow which requires sleep. Staying the night here might net me an hour, two tops, knowing you.” A sly smile split her lips and succeeded in completely renewing his erection.

  Carter leaned forward and licked a pert nipple. It shouldn’t be too hard to convince her to stay. They definitely had chemistry between them even if they didn’t know too many other aspects of each other’s lives.

  She pushed his head away, giggling. “Don’t think you can distract me, Carter.”

  “Damn it.” He trailed his fingers down her abdomen and across her hip when she rose. Sweaty blonde bangs clung to her forehead. The rest of her shoulder-length hair she gathered in one hand while she fanned her neck with the other. He loved that she didn’t try and hide her body from him. The idea was pointless really since he’d more than looked at every millimeter of her skin.

  He’d nibbled, tasted, kissed, licked, bit, touched and smelled all of it. She was his addiction and he wanted more.

  His fingers itched to pull her tall, slender body back to the bed. He’d kind of shocked himself being attracted to her. He usually gravitated toward women with a little more build, more voluptuous breasts for sure. Ryan’s breasts weren’t even what he’d call a handful, but damn if they didn’t respond to the slightest touch.

  She cleared her throat, drawing his attention to her face where her pale blue eyes glittered in mischief.

  “You’re staring.”

  “Yep. And they”—he nodded toward her breasts—“would like to play some more.”

  “They might want to but they aren’t going to get to.”

  “Damn it.”

  She looked back over her shoulder as she headed for the restroom. “You’ve said that already.”

  “I mean it. And it’s not nice to keep a man hanging like this,” he called then collapsed onto his back. Where had he gone wrong? He didn’t normally cause women to feel the need to run off the minute he pulled out.

  “I hardly see anything hanging. Perhaps standing is a better word,” she said through the crack of the door.

  The toilet flushed and water ran before she returned, naked and swaying her hips.

  “If you’re wanting to leave, then perhaps you should stop trying to tempt me.”

  “Me walking is tempting?” She dropped to her hands and knees. “Where the hell is my underwear?”

  “Everything you do is tempting, babe.” Jesus Christ, didn’t she realize what that particular position made him think of?

  “Oh yeah?” She shook her ass.

  “Son of a bitch.” Carter launched himself off the bed and knelt behind that wiggling backside to press his cock against her folds. Little nymph knew exactly what she was doing.

  Ryan squealed and jerked in his hands, but he held fast to her hips.

  “You better be damn glad there isn’t a condom in my hand or you wouldn’t be leaving right now.”

  She lowered her head to the floor, and in the light spilling from the bathroom, he saw her suck her lower lip in. She looked like the perfect little submissive. He ran his index finger down the length of her spine, between the crease of her buttocks, over the rosy aperture and then to her opening. Gathering the wetness there, he slipped further and circled her clit. Ryan moaned and arched her back into his touch.

  He had her.

  Make Mine Midnight

  Annmarie McKenna

  New Year’s resolutions have never looked so good.

  New Year’s Eve. The party is rockin’, and Claire is in her usual spot holding up the wall. It’s all right. She’s much happier scribbling in her trusty little notebook than mingling. Especially since those notes turn into the sexy erotic romances she pens in secret. Those two gorgeous gods across the room are perfect hero material and…oh dear, are they headed her way?

  Mason and Hunter know she won’t remember them as the scrawny geeks they were in high school. She also doesn’t know they’ve been lusting after her for ten long years, waiting for her to meet a man and have a normal relationship. They’re through waiting. The time has come to make their move—and show her exactly how much they’ve changed.

  One night in the middle of a Mason/Hunter manwich, and Claire has enough research material to fill a hundred notebooks. Good thing she’s got OfficeMax on speed dial to order more. Except suddenly her two hunks have this crazy idea that keeping her is selfish. Selfish? She may be mousy, but this mouse is about to roar…

  Warning: Threesomes! Light bondage, blindfolds, breakfast made by two hot men who used to be geeks. Parades, cotton candy, more sex, and convincing said men they are WRONG and threesomes are RIGHT.

  eBooks are not transferable.

  They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Samhain Publishing, Ltd.

  577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520

  Macon GA 31201

  Make Mine Midnight

  Copyright © 2009 by Annmarie McKenna

  ISBN: 978-1-60504-853-6

  Edited by Sasha Knight

  Cover by Angela Waters

  All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: December 2009

  www.samhainpublishing.com

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