Excerpt 2 (X-rated)
Sliding into Home
A New League – Book 1
© 2014 Anne Lange
She felt no pain. Not the physical kind anyway. Here she sat, in an exquisite hotel suite, in Las Vegas, with… Jack. The boy who had left her. But he didn’t resemble a boy anymore. Oh, no. He looked like a man who could do all sorts of naughty things to make her feel wonderful. And no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t make the naughty suggestions disappear, so she’d given up about two glasses of wine ago, after he’d announced his intentions.
She pictured herself swinging on a pendulum. She swayed to one side and was reminded of the day he’d left. Wasn’t she worth sticking around for, or at least coming home for? Then she swung the other way and focused on the opportunity in front of her. He’s so fucking sexy. And he’s available. And what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. Right? It’s not like it’s forever.
She was getting dizzy. She must be going insane if she was even considering it.
Her nipples stood on alert. Her pussy pulsed. Must be the wine. Her friends had brought her to Las Vegas to have sex. But sex with Jack? A mistake? Oh, yeah. She squirmed on the couch, and with as much nonchalance as possible rubbed her arm over her nipples. She suppressed a groan. Okay, maybe a little bit of pain. The kind only a good hard round of sex could relieve.
Devyn glanced up from where she’d settled into the overstuffed couch after they’d moved back into the suite. She watched Jack, but didn’t really see him as he moved about the room. Instead, she pictured him bending her over the arm of the sofa, while the kaleidoscope of colors from the Strip played across the darkened room. In her daydream, he slipped inside her, his cock rigid, thick, hot—stretching her wide, to the pleasurable edge of painful. He paused to place tender kisses down her spine, before pulling back and plunging hard and fast back into her body—relentless in his endeavor to hear her scream his name.
In her mind, she begged him, repeatedly, to make her come.
“Dev, did you say something?”
Startled, she blinked and looked up at his question. “Ah, no.”
Shoes are her addiction, but books are her passion. Anne Lange grew up with a love for reading. If you take a close look, she’s got either a book, her Kindle or her Kobo—maybe all three—tucked into her bag or a pocket when she leaves the house. You know, just in case there’s time to sneak in a chapter or ten. Anne reads many genres of romance, but prefers to write sexy stories, often with a dash of humor, and usually with a side of those sinful pleasures your mom never told you about.
Oh, and always a happily ever after.
While embarking on this wild journey of becoming a romance author, Anne juggles a full time job and a family. Not always successfully. Who needs a clean house every day? And what’s wrong with cereal for dinner? She lives in Ontario, Canada with her wonderfully supportive husband, three awesome kids who are growing up way too fast, and Rocky the bearded dragon.
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