When Lily attends a WWII-themed War Ball at The Erogenous Zone, the hottest sex club in Dallas, she’s looking for a night of no-strings-attached fun, but things get heated when she finds herself drawn to sexy Marine Captain Damien. He’s dripping in alphatastic perfection. Strong, powerful, emotionally broken—and a Dom.
Damien pushes Lily to her sexual limits. She pushes him to his emotional limits. And together, they create enough heat to burn down the club.
Power mingled with desire, and they filtered through my bloodstream like an erotic drug. For no other reason than I’d asked, that supersexy soldier had abandoned a table of enthusiastic feminine admirers. For me. Plain, average, sexually adventurous me.
His powerful gait devoured the distance between us, and before I could wrangle my excitement to a manageable level, he towered over me. Had he grown larger on the walk over? If someone dropped him into the Grand Canyon, would he get wedged in at the shoulders?
I couldn’t stop the shivers that raced through me or the goose bumps following in their wake. The hypnotic pull of his baby blues threatened to steal my breath. I opened my mouth, but my brain misfired. Nothing came out except a pathetic squeak. God, was I thirteen again?
Get it the fuck together.
His lips curved into an I-know-something-you-don’t tilt. “I must say, the number of beautiful women at the club has certainly increased since I’ve been gone.”
His compliment washed over me. I’d never considered myself unattractive, but I didn’t think myself beautiful either. I kept in shape, took care of myself, wore nice clothes, had a kick-ass hairstyle, but beautiful I wasn’t.
Blue Eyes cocked his head to the left, his forehead wrinkling, his eyes focused and intense. “You don’t think you’re beautiful, do you?”
His statement was so matter-of-fact my jaw hinged open and stayed fixed.
Laughter rumbled in his chest, and he tapped his index finger against my bottom lip. “Has anyone ever told you your mouth forms the sexiest ‘O’ when you’re flustered?”
I attempted to shake off his comment. “Flustered? I wasn’t—”
“When I mentioned the increase of beautiful women at the club, you looked pleased to be included in the group, but your shoulders stiffened just a fraction, as if you weren’t able to fully accept the compliment.”
“What the…how did you…what?”
“Why don’t you think you’re beautiful?”
“I think I’m beautiful.” The words came out more defensive than I’d intended.
He shook his head. “Don’t insult my intelligence by lying to me…beautiful.” He emphasized the last word, both with vocal inflection and by crooking his index finger to the underside of my chin and tilting my head so I had no choice but to look at him. “Now, let’s try this again. Why don’t you think you’re beautiful?”
“I, uh. It’s not that I, um, that, that…” Goddamn it. I closed my eyes for a quick moment and gathered my thoughts. “I get cute a lot. Fun, energetic, sexy, but not beautiful. It’s just not a word I associate with myself.”
He nodded, lips curling into a triumphant smile that showed off a sexy-as-hell chin dimple. “There, that wasn’t too hard, was it?”
But I shook my head.
He offered me his arm. “Shall we find a seat?”
About the Author:
Brandi Evans was raised by a caravan of traveling Gypsies. She spent her days learning the ways of her people and her nights lost in legends as old as time. Okay, not really, but that’s way more interesting than the truth!
In reality, Brandi grew up the oldest child of an ordinary family. Grade school, middle school, high school. Nothing extraordinary happened until she left the nest. She joined the military, went to college, got married, and became a mom. And somewhere along the way, she discovered she liked to read—and write!—stories hot enough to melt eReaders.