EROTIC TAKEOVER
by Tina Donahue
Buy Link:
Blurb:
He’ll unleash her
indecent desires…in the most provocative way possible
Working for a celebrated photographer of lush nudes, many with
BDSM themes, isn’t easy for Jodi. She’s full-figured, wholesome and longing for
Mac, her bad boy boss. His shaggy hair, wicked tat and total hotness make her
dream of ditching her work as his assistant to get down on her knees as his
eager sub. If he’d only notice her.
Who says he hasn’t? As laid-back as they come, Mac can’t get over
how uptight Jodi is around him…like he might bite her. Not what he has in mind.
Her guileless nature and voluptuous figure do dangerous things to his
self-control.
Lucky for him a client’s request has Jodi finally yielding to her
sensual nature, because Mac’s fully prepared to dominate, demanding her
submission, delivering punishment. In other words, an erotic takeover.
Excerpt #1:
Rough
music thundered through the studio where Mac Callaghan photographed lush nudes.
The bass alone conjured images of uncivilized sex, a man’s muscled body
glistening with sweat, a woman’s pliant mouth opened on a soft, surrendering
moan.
Mac
strode across the spacious area, his feet bare, movements fluid, similar to a
wild animal on the prowl. In his left hand, he held shackles. In his right, a
leather strap, thick and brutal. At thirty-two, he was Hollywood’s premier
photographer of women in varying stages of undress—lush, black-and-white
portraits, many with BDSM themes of females delighting in being taken,
ravished, enjoyed.
Jodi
Bishop’s upper lip stuck to her teeth, her mouth was that dry. Tonguing her lip
loose, she drank in Mac. At six-three, he was sinewy and solid. So damn male it
made a woman forget to breathe. She dragged in some much-needed air but still
felt woozy. Mac’s black tee hugged his broad shoulders and pecs just as Jodi
would have liked to do. Beneath his left sleeve, a bold tat peeked out, its
wide swirls gracing his brawny biceps.
God
help her, she ached to lick the design then kiss her way down to his well-worn
jeans. The denim hung low on his lean hips, caressing his firm ass, powerful
thighs and the amazing bulge between his legs.
Jodi
leaned up for a better look. Her chair squeaked. She flinched at the noise,
which sounded huge, despite the music, but that didn’t keep her from ogling
him.
Mac
had an erection, its rigid length unmistakable behind his fly. Jodi’s head
swam. She inched her attention to his large hands. His thumb stroked the irons
that would soon be around a model’s slender wrists. He tapped the strap against
his leg as though to remind himself of its future use. The leather swatting a
woman’s plush ass, pinking up those cheeks, delivering punishment before
intense warmth and pleasure followed.
Swallowing
hard, Jodi warned herself to look away. Right—fat chance of that. For too many
nights, she’d imagined herself stripped bare and restrained, her ass, breasts
and cunt exposed for Mac’s delight and use. His hot, wet mouth on her nipples,
his stubble rasping her softer flesh, his fingers exploring her cleft and needy
clit.
She
shivered at the thought of him playing lusty adult games with her, taking
charge of her body and pleasure as her Dom. Jodi had little doubt he’d be good
in the role. For the last several months, she’d been his assistant, seeing him in
glorious action here. He might deliver his orders to the models in an even
voice, but there was raw power behind his words. His commands were always
uncompromising when it came to how he expected them to react for the camera.
“Show
me you want this,” he’d ordered more than once as he’d clicked shot after shot
of them being paddled, displayed, thoroughly corrupted. “Beg for more,” he’d
demanded.
The
model’s eyes would glaze over at his compelling baritone before they’d give him
the expression he craved as an artist…and possibly as a man. Most of the women
clearly wanted Mac, boasting when he wasn’t around about how they’d be the
first to get him in the sack. Jodi couldn’t blame them for fantasizing about
him.
He
was freaking gorgeous, his features sinfully virile. A strong profile, silky
black brows, eyes so blue the color didn’t seem real, sooty lashes, bronze
complexion and a shadow of a beard that would make a confirmed celibate
whimper.
Jodi
bit back a moan.
He
wore his black hair longish and shaggy, the ends dangling over his forehead and
curling around his ears. One lobe sported an earring—a simple black stud that
made him more tempting than a pirate—while the thick ridge behind his fly had
her trembling with too much desire.
Jodi
stopped herself from gaping at what he had below his waistband again. Her gaze
crept north once more, past his torso to his chest, neck, bristly jaw,
luscious—
“Hey,
doll.”
The
male model—Rocco something—stood at the side of Jodi’s desk, interrupting her
indecent journey up Mac.
BIO:
I’m an award-winning, bestselling
novelist in erotic, paranormal, contemporary and historical romance for Kensington,
Samhain Publishing, Ellora’s Cave, Siren Publishing, Booktrope, and indie. Yay! Booklist, Publisher’s Weekly, Romantic
Times and numerous online sites have praised my work, and trust me, I’m
forever grateful for that. I’ve had my books reach finals in the EPIC
competition, one title was named Book of the Year at a review site, and others
have won awards in RWA-sponsored contests. I’m actually featured in the 2012
Novel & Short Story Writer’s Market. Talk about feeling like a freaking star.
Before my writing career, I was the editor of an award–winning Midwestern
newspaper and worked in Story Direction for a Hollywood production company.
Outside of being an admitted and unrepentant chocoholic, I’ve flown a
single-engine plane (scary stuff), rewired an old house using an electricity
for dummies book, and have been known to moan like Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally whenever I’m eating
anything Mexican or Italian. Yeah, I like to eat (burp).
You can check me out here – yes, I
am everywhere! J
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