Storm
Bad Boys of X-Ops Book III
By
Rie Warren
Genre: Erotic romance, humor,
thriller, suspense, military, action/adventure
Release Date: May 23, 2016
Danger.
Lust.
Desire . . .
Trust?
STORM
I’m headed back to
the Blood Legion MC in New Orleans, my old stomping grounds. Guns. Thugs.
Broads. Cocaine nightmares. A Mexican cartel, cracker coke runners, and now
there’s a new international threat in town.
Blaize Carmichael
is my only partner in this op. Blaize. As a biker babe.
Jeeesus. I’ve had a
bone for her from day one when she walked into headquarters—haughty, superior,
and always in charge.
There’s a goddamn
good chance we’ll get made, played, and put in the grave as government-issue
traitors. But I can’t help it—I love to get rough, raw, dirty, and dominant
with her.
No more yes ma’am,
no ma’am. Blaize is about to find out I don’t always takes orders as
issued.
BLAIZE
I’m always prepared
for every scenario. I’ve built my career on complete professionalism in and out
of the field. But when Storm comes at me with wild animal lust—when he opens up
to me—when he opens me up, I can’t say no.
I don’t want
to.
We’re in danger
every single day we stay in NOLA. There is no way we can make it out alive. Not
together. Not this time.
“T-Zone took you in
when the CIA wrote you off,” Blaize scathed.
“And y’all think
you were the ones doing me the favor? Baby, you’d need an extra hand
to count the number of successful missions I’ve carried out for T-Z, and you
goddamn know it.” I pushed her back with my huge muscled body pressing against
her.
I watched her
swallow, but some seriously angry heat came off her.
It only made her
sexier to me.
“You got no excuses
for that off-op shit you pulled tonight, and you know it. And you do not want
to play this game with me tonight.” I began undressing.
Shirt tossed. Boots
thrown. Belt whipped out. Pants tugged down.
Crossing my arms
over my chest, I stood in front of her—a foreboding, tall, dark shadow of fully
fit and ready-to-fuck man. “Lose the clothes, Blaize, before I slice and dice
them with my knife.”
She sucked in a
breath.
“You and I both
know it’s been building to this.” With my hand curled beneath her chin, I
lifted her mouth until it brushed against mine. “If you don’t want to get
fucked and fucked hard by me right now you better leave this room and run tail
back to DC.”
“I don’t back down
from a challenge.”
I laughed. “This
ain’t a challenge. It’s sex. You and me. Clothes. Off. Now.”
She undressed while
I stood right up against her. Her breath hit me, her soft panting gusts of air.
My eyes dipped lower when she skimmed the shirt from her shoulders. Her
bra—lacy and creamy white—almost overflowed with her tits. I didn’t help her
unclasp it but watched with hungry intensity when she hit the hook and it
popped free.
The straps dripped
off her arms, and her puffy pink nipples rasped against the hair on my chest.
I chugged in a
lungful of air, balling my hands at my sides. My cock, thick and hard, wet the
bare skin of her belly with a skein of pre-come.
“The jeans now.” My
voice was low, thunderous, chest-deep.
She wiggled free,
her breasts connecting with my abdomen, which clamped like I’d been hit by a
hammer blow. Those soft swinging tits colliding against me made my head ratchet
back. But I kept focus. Kept my gaze on her when she stood up.
No Fucking Panties.
Nude. Blaize. She
was all golden skin and incredible eyes and glowing hair.
And heat poured off
her, firing through my veins.
I stepped away,
rubbing a hand across the thick black stubble on my chin. Taking her in.
Filling my sights. Memorizing her.
And that little
pink pout of her pussy lips—shiny and slick already—below the narrow tangle of
bronze-red curls.
“Fuck, Blaize.”
She held her
shoulders back, placed her hands on her hips, and asked, “Do I pass muster, sir?”
“Get on the bed.
All fours.” A muscle at the back of my jaw ticked.
Her nipples
hardened with my harsh words, and I watched a trail of wetness weep between her
legs.
Fuuuuck me.
I didn’t touch her.
Not yet. But it was damn hard not to.
I watched as her
ass swayed, her hips switched back and forth, and she got into position in the
middles of the bed.
I was hugely hung,
hugely hard, and really fucking angry. Blaize knew it, and she was ready for
me.
This mating dance
was nearly over.
But I didn’t let
myself get close to her yet.
Couldn’t.
She needed to
understand the new rules first.
I almost trembled
in my skin, walking around the bed, viewing her lush bod from every angle.
My voice thickened
from my throat and came out hoarse and husky as hell. “Fair warning. You’ll be
screaming tonight. Not because I took a strap to your ass like everyone
downstairs expects. But because I’m about to fuck you so good. And when you
have a hard time walking and sitting down tomorrow? Won’t be because I punished
you. But because I screwed you all night long, cher.” I prowled onto the
bed behind her. “Understand?”
In answer, Blaize
drew herself up and cupped her tits. I straddled right behind her. For a
moment. Running my hands over her body. Touching between her legs and pulling
her back to me when her pelvis kicked forward. Sliding my palms up over the
indent of her waist and holding her hands down to her sides. Lifting her
breasts, massaging them, palming both mounds and thumbing across her nipples.
With my hand at the
back of her neck, I slowly laid her down. Laid her out.
Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series. A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around. You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html
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