When a mortar attack destroyed half his face and all of his life as he knew it, something vital died inside of former Marine, Ezekiel Steele. For years he’s felt nothing… until he sees Essie trying her best to be invisible. But the feisty spark inside the lovely fashion designer is too bright to be concealed, and like a moth to a flame, he’s helpless to resist her.
Chicago’s premiere tattoo studio, House Of Payne, is taking the world of fashion by storm, holding a contest to find the best designer the city has to offer. Competition is fierce, but all Essie can concentrate on are Steele’s dirty-talking lessons in sex. But when the student surpasses the master when it comes to love, Steele’s inner demons get the better of him. If he can’t face them down, he’ll lose Essie forever.
***This standalone, mildly erotic contemporary romance contains a dirty-talking Alpha with a penchant for having sex in public places. No cheating, no love triangles and no cliffhangers. Fairy tale HEA guaranteed. Due to adult language and sexual content, this book is not intended for people under the age of 18***
It was amazing, how she could still blush. “Mm-hm.”
“Say it.” When she didn’t immediately respond, the slow encroachment of his hand stilled. “Essie, I want you to feel free to say anything when you’re with me. Any thought. Any word. Nothing’s forbidden between us. You can say it.”
“Okay.” She huffed out an irritated breath and tried not to imagine what her mother would think of her for having such a dirty mouth. “Your, um… your c-cock.”
His hand instantly slid into her cleft, homed in like a champ on her clit and gave it one hard circle. She gasped, her head flinging back, but just as suddenly as he started, he stilled again.
“You stumbled a bit on that, sweetness. Say it again. It sounds so pretty, coming from your sweet lips.”
“Your cock.” It was quiet, hushed, but she managed to say it this time without stuttering. She was immediately rewarded with a few more spectacular swirls of his finger, but just as she was dissolving into a pool of pleasure, he stopped again.
“Say it again.”
Goddamn it. “Your cock.”
“Your cock, your cock, your huge, fucking cock.”
She thanked heaven and whatever deity that might be involved in dirty talk when his fingers began to move, but they worked her so slowly she couldn’t stand it.
“Do you like my huge, fucking cock, Essie?”
“Yeah. Oh, yeah.”
“How much do you like my huge, fucking cock?”
Feverishly she pumped her hips, trying to get him going, and her hands loosened the front of his jeans despite his claim that it wasn’t necessary. “I love your huge, fucking cock.”
“What do you love about my huge, fucking cock?”
A competitive figure skater from the age of eight, Stacy Gail began writing stories in between events to pass the time. By the age of fourteen, she told her parents she was either going to be a figure skating coach who was also a published romance writer, or a romance writer who was also a skating pro. Now with a day job of playing on the ice with her students, and writing everything from steampunk to cyberpunk, contemporary to paranormal at night, both dreams have come true.