The lovely and uber-talented Fiona Jayde interviewed me for Total Exposure on my release day, and I wanted to share the interview here as well. Enjoy!

—

Lacey – congratulations on your new release!

Thanks, Fi! As you know, I had a blast writing this story.

Stray Urges is a terrific story and I’m excited to get you in the hot seat for your release day interview.

Aww… thank you! I’m delighted to be interviewed by you!

1. I know this particular story was very different for you – what can you tell us about the behind the scene stuff for Stray Urges?

Well, as I mentioned briefly yesterday, 1st person narrative has always been my favorite. There’s something so visceral and raw about it (when done well). It’s like literally stepping into someone else’s shoes and feeling what they feel, experiencing what they experience… which–let’s face it–with erotic writing, is a pretty good thing.

Despite naturally gravitating toward first person reads my entire life, I shied away from writing them. I had been told, time and time again, that first person doesn’t sell. Apparently readers don’t want it, aren’t comfortable with it, and won’t buy it. For a long time, I took that advice to heart.

For the past few years, I’ve been wrestling with a serious creative crisis. I feared I’d lost the passion that used to drive me to write, and I started wandering outside my comfort zone. That’s how STRAY URGES came about. I “heard” the heroine’s voice in my head saying that first line. “There’s only one thing worse than feeling like a bitch in heat, and that’s looking like one. And getting hit by a truck. Okay, make that two things.” So I wrote it down… and then the next line came to me, and the next, and the one after that. I wrote the entire story in about 3 days. It’s fairly short, mind you, but that productivity level, and the elation I felt while writing it, stunned me.

2. Was there something specific that sparked the idea for you or was it a gradual “discovery”?

It was a discovery process all the way! Well… no, that’s not entirely true. I pitched the story to my editor in a short paragraph a few months before I wrote it. It was very vague at that point — just enough to get me a spot on the release schedule. I knew my heroine had amnesia, and that she needed someone from her past to show her what Christmas really means… but beyond that, I had nothing.

In the end, I was thrilled with the way it came together. All the pieces just seemed to fit as I wrote: her motivation, her conflict, her background… everything was there, waiting for me to discover it.

3. I loved how you weaved the Christmas fantasy into the story! What are some of your holiday traditions? (p.s for Total Exers – the Christmas fantasy in Stray Urges was complete with naughty elves!!)

Thanks! I was on a business trip in Toronto early last month, and the major department stores had already set up their Christmas window displays. They’re not quite as large and elaborate as the ones in New York, but I found myself gawking at the detail work in each. Okay, so there were no frolicking elves in the windows… but that’s why it’s called creative license, right? *g*

As for me, I’m not big on holiday traditions. My husband and I don’t exchange gifts, we don’t decorate the house, and we don’t put up a tree. I take some time off at Christmas every year, and then we go to Mexico in early January. I’m not sure either of those count as Christmas traditions, but there you have it!

4. Does Lacey’s “real world” interact with Lacey’s “writing” world? Do they interweave? Can you look at a piece of writing and say “oh yeah, this is what was happening in my life when I wrote this?” (Hey – its better then asking where you get your ideas lol)

Umm… nope. LOL Lacey’s inner world is a chaotic mess at the best of times. I’ve noticed my writing style changing over the past few years as I’ve struggled through one creative block after the next, but in terms of plot and character, I can’t say I’ve ever been able to point to a story and say, “Oh, this came about because I was doing XYZ at the time.”

5. What can your readers look forward from you in the upcoming year?

Ha! I wish I knew!

Okay… in the short term, my alter ego, Hunter Raines, has a scorching M/M paranormal with a Christmas theme coming out… next week (yay!) from Loose Id, titled SILVER BELLS. And in January, Hunter’s got another short M/M paranormal, titled BEYOND BOUNDARIES. That’s slotted for the beginning of the month.

After that, your guess is as good as mine.

Thanks Lace – and again, congratulations!

Thanks so much for the wonderful interview, Fi! The questions were terrific, and really made me think.

There’s something sublimely sensual about the first touch between the hero and heroine. By this point, the anticipation has built and built, both in the characters and in the readers. Now, it’s up to the author to deliver.

I’m sharing one of my favorite scenes today, from ONCE UPON A CONQUEST. This first touch is rather… prolonged, but I think it works very well here. See if you agree.

—

“What a trip.”

The low, muttered words slipped out from between Amy’s dry lips before she could stop them. Her eyes were closed and she kept them that way, not yet ready to subject herself to the bright beams of sunlight warming her skin, or to the intense pain that would surely follow.

The world swayed suddenly and her body tilted at an odd angle. Instinctively, Amy tightened her grip on the hard, lean flesh coiling beneath her fingertips.

Prickles of awareness raised goose bumps on her bare arms. Her breath caught in her throat. Pulse thundering in her ears, she steadied her nerves for whatever she was about to face, then opened one eye slowly, cautiously.

“Holy hell,” she whispered at the sight of soft, infinitely kissable lips, the sharp line of a blunt nose, the hint of stubble marring a perfectly square masculine jaw.

The man pressed her closer to his chest and quickened his stride. He held her like she weighed nothing at all, which she supposed was dangerously close to the truth. She swallowed hard, determined not to think about her illness. At least, not for as long as this man’s strong arms enclosed her in warm heat and solid comfort.

His dark eyebrows slashed down over impossibly green eyes as he stared at her, something akin to wonder on his handsome features.

“Christabel,” he said.

The name resonated with familiarity and longing, sending a rush of heat to pool low in her belly. Damn. His voice was low and silky, the kind of voice made for whispering sweet nothings in a girl’s ear as his body pressed down on top of hers, his fingers touching every inch of bare flesh, his cock–

God.

She stopped herself before that particular fantasy could get her into way more trouble than she was obviously already in. But oh, how she wished it had been her name he’d murmured with such reverence.

Amy cleared her throat. Her tongue snaked out to wet her parched lips, and she saw his gaze follow the movement. A blush snaked up her cheeks. “Err… look, I don’t know who you think I am, or where we are, but you must have me confused with someone else.”

His brows furrowed. “You do not know who you are?” There was no hint of mockery in his slightly accented voice, just a startling concern.

She laughed, a high pitched giggle that sounded forced, even to her. “I know exactly who I am. My name is Amy Conrad. I’m here on vacation.” She lifted her head from where it rested on his shoulder and peered around her. This wasn’t the island where she’d rented her small coble. The long dock that had lined the edge of shore was missing, and the merchants and throngs of overexcited tourists were also conspicuously absent. “Wherever here is.”

“I do not know the true name of this island, but you are home.”

She took in the long stretch of golden sand, the palm trees gently swaying in the breeze, the endless span of turquoise ocean. “This is your home?” she asked, unable to disguise the wonder in her voice. “You live here?”

“For now.” She thought he’d say more, so she listened to the sound of his footsteps falling on the soft sand as silence stretched between them.

Then, when it became clear he had no intention of either explaining how she got here or putting her down, she tried again. “You don’t have to carry me.”

To demonstrate, she wriggled in his grasp, hoping his grip would slip and he’d place her on her feet. Instead, his fingers dug into her skin and he only held her closer to his firm, muscular chest.

His very bare chest.

That realization made a tiny whimper slip out between her lips. Ripples of sublime longing made her tremble. She clamped her mouth shut firmly, hoping he hadn’t heard.

“Same Christabel.” The strange statement gave no indication whether or not he was aware of her lapse in judgment. “Less clothes, but definitely the same Christabel. Still squirming and fighting to get free.”

“Yeah, well, I can walk on my own.”

“You always could.”

She blew out a deep breath, considering his words. She could detect no obvious sarcasm in his tone. “You still don’t seem to understand. I’m not who you think I am.”

His full lips quirked upward in a teasing smile. “Perhaps you’re not who you think you are.”

—

Want more? Pick up ONCE UPON A CONQUEST at Amber Heat!

And while you’re at it, don’t forget to check out the other wonderful snippets generously provided by the following authors:

You’ve heard all the rules: open with action, open in the middle of things, open with excitement, with things blowing up, with body parts flying. Me? I’m a fan of softer, but no less engaging, openings. Like these first couple of pages from A GENTLEMAN’S BARGAIN.

Before we get into it, though, I should tell you that this book is written under my pseudonym, Hunter Raines, and is male/male romance. You’ve been warned.

—

“So, what do I wear for this?”

“Socks. Anything else will only get in the way.”

David Leone fixed his friend with a hard glare as his fingers went to his belt. “I don’t know how I let you talk me into this. Remind me to have my head examined when we’re done here.”

Charlie Tyler’s snort filtered through the darkened room. “Which head would that be?”

David scowled. The bastard was enjoying this, damn him. “Keep that up and you won’t be getting a tip.”

At the sound of his friend’s low chuckle, David sucked in a deep breath and whipped off his belt. To distract himself, he allowed his gaze to skitter over the sparse furnishings in the private room. One of six identical service chambers in the Manly Man Salon and Spa, it had obviously been decorated with the intent of putting a client at ease. Soft blue walls and colorful art depicting nature scenes closed in on him from all sides. Pristine white towels draped a low bed. Above it, a giant spotlight and a mirror that magnified his eyes to the size of saucers hovered in waiting. The overhead lights were turned down low, casting a pale neon glow across sterile metal tweezers, scissors and other instruments of torture David couldn’t name.

Charlie tapped a tube filled with a gooey white cream against the palm of his hand. “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Can’t you put me out for this? Dentists gas their nervous patients, you know.”

“Oh, for the love of God, Dave. It’s just a bit of wax.”

David gaped, wondering for the millionth time whether he was insane for letting the man anywhere near his precious family jewels. Sure, they’d known each other for nine years, but friendship only went so far. “Right. Just a bit of molten wax poured over my balls.”

Charlie rolled his eyes. “Wanna see my license? Maybe talk to some former clients and get firsthand testimonials? Relax. I know what I’m doing.” When David made no move to strip further, Charlie motioned toward the bed. “I don’t charge by the hour, pal. Hurry it up.”

With a scowl, David shucked the rest of his clothes and tossed them in a corner, not caring where they landed. “Funny, I never pegged you for a sadist.”

“That’s because you never let me fuck you. College would have been way more fun if you had.”

It was David’s turn to snort. He’d moved to Lexington from New York City to attend the University of Kentucky. He could have requested a private room–God knew he could afford it–but he’d wanted to make friends. He’d lucked out in a big way when Charlie had been assigned as his roommate. They hit it off immediately, not only as two gay men straddling the line between youth and adulthood and struggling to make sense of a world that didn’t really know what to make of them, but also on a deeper, more instinctive level. Within a couple of months, they were inseparable. Charlie had become the brother David never had.

Fucking Charlie would have been as taboo as crawling under the covers with his cousin Jim. To his credit, Charlie never tried anything, either. Unlike cousin Jim, who got himself a bloody nose for his efforts on a junior high camping trip.

—

If you enjoyed this tiny peek at David’s naughty bits and want to learn more about what’s in store for him,, pick up A GENTLEMAN’S BARGAIN at Amber Allure.

And don’t forget to visit the blogs of the other authors participating in Snippet Saturday this week:

Today’s Snippet Saturday theme is “The First Meeting Between a Character and a Villain.” I love this theme, because the possibilities are endless! So many options… I scanned through my books, and ultimately decided to share a scene from IN THE DARK, one of the stories that’s part of the NOTHING TO FEAR omnibus available at Loose Id.

This scene is unique, in that it comes very close to the end of the book. And yes, it is the first face-to-face encounter between the hero and the villain — the man who’s kept him from his wife for so long, he almost lost her. And at this point, he’s willing to do anything it takes to get his life back.
—

O’Grady slept in the last room at the end of the hall and, like his daughter, didn’t bother to lock the bedroom door. And why would he? Miguel’s job was to keep intruders away — and failing that, to sound the alarm before he died.

Evan didn’t hesitate this time. He cocked the gun, pressed it to O’Grady’s temple, and switched on the bedside lamp. A female shriek accompanied the flare of light. Evan cast the woman only a brief glance. One look at her glazed eyes and sallow skin, and he knew he didn’t have to worry.

O’Grady often brought drug addicts to his bed. Occupational hazard, he called it.

The woman darted a quick look at the gun, then sat up and pulled the bedsheet over her naked breasts, knowing better than to make another sound.

“Good girl.” Evan ground the barrel into O’Grady’s temple and had the satisfaction of seeing the older man’s ruddy complexion blanch. “Your daughter wasn’t nearly as smart.”

A flicker of terror shone in O’Grady’s blue eyes. He got it under control quickly, but not before Evan had a good glimpse of the man’s discomfort. “What do you want?”

“Two things. First, the name of your government contact. Second, you’re going to make a call. He’s going to come here. Now.”

O’Grady snorted, some of his bravado returning. “We have a meeting later tonight. You were invited, if I’m not mistaken. Your first one, too. Why not wait until then?”

Evan shrugged. “It doesn’t work that way. Not anymore.”

“I should have known better than to trust you.” O’Grady moved a fraction of an inch away from the gun, but Evan caught him by the back of the neck.

“You should have,” he agreed, his voice deadly calm. The finger pressed against the trigger remained still. It would only take a tiny muscle spasm to fire. “The name.”

“No.”

Evan grunted. “I’ll ask you one last time. The name. Please.” He drew out the last word in a sarcastic tone.

“Why should I?”

Evan released O’Grady’s pudgy neck and dug into the pocket of his jeans until he found what he was searching for. He pulled out a silver chain. An elaborate cross hung at the end of it.

O’Grady’s eyes widened when he recognized it. “Felicia.” His face paled further. “What have you done?”

Evan dangled the chain in front of O’Grady’s eyes, making sure the man could see the bright blood coating the clasp. “You think I came alone, Shamus? My friends have Felicia. They’re waiting on word from me to decide what they’re going to do to her.”

Sweat coated O’Grady’s forehead. He lifted a hand to wipe it away, then remembered the gun and dropped it into his lap. “W-who do you work for?”

Evan dropped the silver chain. It landed on the bedsheet, leaving a red smear on the white linen. He slipped his free hand into the other pocket and offered O’Grady his phone.

“Make the call.”

—

If you enjoyed that glimpse into Evan’s dangerous life, check out NOTHING TO FEAR, available now at Loose Id.

And don’t forget to visit the blogs of the other authors participating in Snippet Saturday this week:

I joined Snippet Saturday, a fabulous multi-author concept put together by the very talented Lauren Dane. This week’s premise is heroine seduction FAIL. What I like the most about Snippet Saturday is the fact that authors are encouraged to interpret the theme as they see fit.

The way I interpreted the theme is likely different than the way my fellow authors interpreted it. I’m bringing you a scene from SUMMONING DARKNESS, in which my demon hero, Varin, gives in to his feelings for a human thrall (NOT the heroine, BTW — see? There I go being different again).

I loved writing this scene. Enjoy!

—

Though his back was turned, he knew the exact moment when Lillian arrived. He felt her, even before the sentient stone guarding his chamber slid aside to let her pass. Her scent, musky with a tinge of something floral, even after all this time in the Underworld, taunted him.

“You asked for me, M-master?”

Varin frowned. It had been years since he’d snatched her from the mortal realm and brought her down to the Underworld with a batch of Forgotten. He’d been instantly taken with her and had immediately summoned her to his bed. She’d resisted him at first, but now she came willingly. Yet even though he’d sheltered her and had made sure she endured none of the torment the rest of her human brethren experienced, calling him Master still felt foreign to her. The word halted on her tongue each time she spoke it.

He turned to her, his breath catching in his throat. Lillian was the epitome of innocence, the embodiment of everything the Prince of Darkness sought to eliminate from the mortal realm. A full mane of shiny gold-spun hair tumbled around her shoulders and fell down her back. Her brilliant blue eyes glistened as she watched him in expectation, lower lip clenched between her teeth.

Crossing the distance between them, he swept her into his arms and pressed her light, curvy body to his much stronger one. She didn’t protest when he claimed her mouth but kissed him back eagerly, her lips parting to allow his tongue to slide inside. He poured everything he had into that one kiss, as though it had been years since he’d last held her rather than merely hours.

He spun her around and tossed her on the bed. She bounced lightly, a giggle escaping her throat, the crystalline sound echoing off the walls of his chamber and imbuing the dark interior with an instant pulse of joy.

I can almost see it, Varin thought as he lowered his body over hers, the glow she emitted, the golden aura that the Underworld hadn’t been able to rip from her. Her presence seemed to lift the dark shadows lingering in every corner of his chamber. Even her blonde hair shone like a halo in the orange lava glow.

He should hate her. He knew that with every ounce of logic he possessed. If Baal learned that Varin’s feelings for Lillian were more than simple infatuation, his punishment would be as severe as hers.

Yet even that knowledge wasn’t enough to convince Varin to send her away. Everything from her light, spicy scent to the pliant softness of her full lips conspired to drive him out of his mind.

He couldn’t get enough of her.

He loved her. With every beat of his demonic heart.

Varin trailed kisses down the line of her chin. Her pulse fluttered in the delicate hollow at the base of her throat and he paused to lick there, eliciting another giggle from his beloved.

The foreign sound should have grated. His Guardian training and his demon heritage should have instantly driven him to eliminate all traces of the exultant harmony. Yet he licked her again, and again, thinking he’d never tire of making her laugh.

He continued his path of exploration down between her breasts, his tongue sliding deep in the valley between them. She tasted of sweat and feminine allure, the light, spicy flavor making his mouth water for more of her.

Grabbing an ankle in each hand, he tossed her feet over his shoulders and buried his head between her thighs. A soft moan of pleasure escaped her throat. The urge to sample her delicate nether lips was too much to bear, and he swiped his tongue along the length of her slit, parting her labia.

Lillian was so different from the succubae. She craved tenderness and gentle lovemaking while they delighted in the sweet burn of never ending pain. Even the feathery thatch of pubic hair was foreign to him. Succubae had no body hair, their smooth, sleek forms perfectly designed for driving a man to the brink of insanity.

But Lillian was real. She was human, and even though she was no longer mortal, as a Forgotten, she maintained all her human traits.

He plunged deeper inside her, tasting the sweetness of her cream.

“Yes!” She quivered beneath him, her hips lifting off the bed and her back arching in an effort to bring him even closer to her pussy. “Take me over the edge, Master. Take me… Bite me. Claim me.”

She repeated the words like a mantra. He kissed and suckled her sex, filling his lungs with the scent and taste of her. His cock felt like it would explode, and she hadn’t even touched him.

Take me. Bite me. Claim me.

“Do it. Make me yours.”

She’d been asking him the same thing every night for weeks. Somehow, she’d learned more about demons than any lost soul ever had. She knew what his bite would do to her, and she wanted it.

Wanted him. Forever.

Take me. Bite me. Claim me.

The heady chant swam in his head, heightening his libido like a potent aphrodisiac. If he bit her, she’d be his. She’d be like him, transformed from a mere Forgotten mortal into a demon-kin, a half-breed. Baal would have no choice but to accept her.

The idea had seemed beyond contemplation when she’d first suggested it. Yet now, with his head buried deep between her thighs, he couldn’t remember why he hadn’t given in sooner. Turning her would solve so many problems. It was the one thing he could give her after everything she’d given him.

Varin’s hands moved across her back. He clamped his palms on her ass to steady her, then shifted his mouth slightly to her inner thigh. All his control and common sense was gone now, lost in a sea of lust. He was drowning in it and he had no intention of ever again coming up for air.

He bit down hard. She screamed, her cry sending a pang of agony into his heart. He suckled the wound quickly, knowing his saliva would already be traveling through her bloodstream. A few drops were all he needed to pass on to her. Genetics and the nature of things would do the rest.

He waited for her cry to subside, but it never did. Instead, it took on a wild keening edge. She pushed him away, shoving at him with her knees, kicking him with her feet. He fell backward off the bed, too stunned to speak or resist her sudden tantrum.

The world spun around him. The importance of what he’d done slammed into him, shaking him to the core. Surely this was simply a side-effect of the turning. He’d never done it before. To the best of his knowledge, no one had. Fucking a human was sometimes frowned upon, but generally accepted as common practice. Turning one into a half-breed was blasphemy, a desecration of everything the Prince of Darkness held dear.

Lillian levitated off the bed and spun in the air, heading straight for him. Her eyes glowed a deep crimson, brighter than that of an excited souleater. A volatile, vivid anger burned within their depths. The sight of it stole his breath.

“You!” Her voice sounded raw, filled with enough grief, pain and misery for a thousand tortured souls. “I’ve been dreaming of this moment for years.”

—

SUMMONING DARKNESS is part of the SEDUCED BY DARKNESS collection, soon to be re-released by Changeling Press.

And if you want more fabulous Snippet Saturday excerpts, check out the blogs of these wonderful authors:

Cynthia Eden

Sylvia Day

Leah Braemel

Shelli Stevens

Michelle Pillow

Jaci Burton

Anya Bast

Juliana Stone

Moira Rogers

Vivian Arend

Nothing to Fear by Lacey Savage

Nothing to Fear by Lacey Savage
Publisher: Loose ID, LLC.
Genre: Contemporary
Length: Short (127 pages)
Other: BDSM, M/F, M/F/M, Ménage, Spanking
Rating: 5 Cherries
Review by Cholla

Three women haunted by horrors from their pasts. Four men who want to show them there’s Nothing to Fear…

In the Air
If Kirk Healey hadn’t threatened to steal her biggest client, Meadow Gardiner would never have boarded another plane. In flight, only Kirk’s smoldering touch keeps Meadow from succumbing to soul-numbing fear. As kisses lead to a frantic encounter in the airplane lavatory, Meadow must trust her greatest rival to see her safely back on solid ground.

In the Dark
When a total blackout forces Shelly O’Rourke to face her paralyzing fear of the dark, she’s rescued from engulfing terror by the scorching caress (and occasional spanking!) of her estranged-and presumed dead-husband. Making love to a memory forces Shelly to confront her deepest fears…and some are just as menacing by the light of day.

In their Arms
Jennifer Meehan has no qualms about taking two lovers. A long history of cruel betrayal has taught her that unbridled sex is the only way to guard her heart. But the men she’s been seeing separately have joined forces, and now the time has come to reveal all: her body, her soul, and every secret fear she harbors in her heart.

Publisher’s Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Anal play/intercourse, male/male sexual interaction, ménage (m/f/m), mild spanking.

Lacey Savage outdoes herself in this erotic romp through a collection of common phobias: flying, darkness, and intimacy. In each short, the heroine is faced with her fear and finds a steamy, sexy way to overcome it. With a little help, of course.

In the Air is the first novella in this collection and one of the most exciting. Frightened of flying, Meadow Gardiner is prepared to conquer her fear head on. Little does she know that her arch enemy, Kirk Healy, will be coming along for the ride. Meadow is a strong, upfront kind of woman. She knows her limits and is bound and determined to push them in order to get what she wants. Kirk comes off as a bit of a jerk at first until his real plan of action surfaces.

In the Air is followed by my favorite story in the series, In the Dark. In this second story, Shelly O’Rourke is coping with having been abandoned by her husband only to discover that he just may be dead. Shelly is an emotional woman struggling to come to grips with the way her life is headed, while trying to reassure her son. While on a flight to Madrid, Shelly is staying in a hotel when the city experiences a blackout. I think this was my favorite not because it was the most explicit, or the most emotional, but I think it was probably the most intense of the three. Trapped in the darkness and surprised by what you least expect…

In Their Arms finishes off the trio of stories with a bang. Jennifer Meehan suffers from the saddest of all phobias – the fear of being close to someone. She doesn’t let it interfere with her pleasure seeking, however, and has found not one but two constant lovers to run to when she needs them. This is a sweet and steamy story of how her two lovers turn the tables on her and help her on her way to learning to love and trust for the first time in many years.

Nothing to Fear is a wonderful collection of stories centering on something we’re all familiar with – the fear of something. Lacey’s frightened heroines are strong and seductive, scared and sexy. And as an added bonus, all three stories connect in a way that you’re really reading one story told from many viewpoints. It was a fascinating and different touch that made Nothing to Fear an even more enjoyable read.

Purchase Nothing to Fear from Loose Id

Beth Kery is hosting a phenomenal month-long event to promote the upcoming release of her book, DARING TIME. As part of the festivities, I’ll be giving away a copy of NOTHING TO FEAR. You’ve got all day tomorrow to enter. The feature will go up around midnight tonight.
Just go to: http://www.bethkery.com/blog/

Once there, scroll past the DARING TIME contest/giveaway to reach my feature and giveaway.

Good luck!

Here’s an excerpt from my latest…Enjoy!

Nothing to Fear

by Lacey Savage

cover art by Natalie Winters

Publisher: Loose Id

ISBN (13): 978-1-59632-905-8

Genre(s): Erotic, contemporary

Length: Omnibus

Buy Here

Excerpt:

The last time Meadow had boarded an airplane, she had been sixteen. Unlike this massive three-hundred-passenger jet, that aircraft had been a four-seater private plane with one pilot, no flight attendants, and only two additional passengers — Meadow and her mother, Diane. Her father, John, had piloted, a celebratory maiden voyage after gaining his license. His first and last.

The recycled air flooding the cabin slipped beneath Meadow’s jacket sleeves and raised gooseflesh on her arms. She’d strapped the seat belt tight around her midsection, for all the good it would do her. She’d also listened to the flight attendant go through all the appropriate safety precautions, listening with rapt attention for every bit of advice she could use should the unthinkable happen again.

Now there was nothing left to do but sit back, relax, and enjoy the flight.

Or in her case, sit ramrod straight, clutch the armrests as though her life depended on it — which it well could — and try to remember to breathe.

The plane’s engines growled beneath her feet. The sound traveled all the way up her legs and settled like lead in the pit of her stomach. She sat motionless, fingernails digging into the plastic armrest, teeth embedded in the soft flesh of her lower lip. Squeezing her eyes shut, she waited for the inevitable lurching motion of the plane pulling away from the gate. When it came, a whimper escaped her throat.

“I bet you’re not wearing anything under that suit.”

The unashamed bluntness of Kirk’s statement yanked her thoughts from their hysterical downward spiral. She froze, breath lodged in her throat. “What did you say to me?”

His full lips quirked up in a teasing grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Instead of mirth, she found nothing but concern and a hint of predatory heat in the green depths.

He leaned in, his mouth close enough to brush her earlobe. “I said, I’m willing to bet you’re not wearing a bra. In fact, I’d go as far as to say you’ve got no panties on, either. Which would mean your pussy’s clamped tight around the fabric of those pants, moistening the surface just a little each time you shift in your seat.”

A sudden flutter of desire breezed through her, bringing back a small measure of self-control. She couldn’t believe he’d spoken the words aloud, much less in public.

She and Kirk were the only two passengers in a three-seat row close to the back of the plane. While chances of someone having overheard him were low, the forbidden thrill of his statement had a profound, immediate impact on her libido.

Her nipples pebbled beneath the thin shift she wore under the suit jacket. His guess had been half-right. She hadn’t bothered with a bra, preferring instead the silky smoothness of the leopard-print shift she’d picked out from among Cuero y Cordón’s delectable offerings.

Not that he needed to know that. And if she’d been just a little less paralyzed with fear, she’d have told him exactly what she thought of his inappropriate comment.

Instead, she scowled and glanced out the window. She shouldn’t have.

Although night had fallen, red, blue, and white lights flooded the airport runway. A few feet away, a man waved two flares, no doubt signaling the pilot in preparation for takeoff. Rain pattered against the metal skeleton of the aircraft and dotted the small windowpane with shimmering beads of colored water. Fog rose from the dark pavement in patches, reaching diaphanous tendrils to brush against the plane’s wings.

The wheels rolled to an abrupt stop. A massive rumbling whirr boomed from the bowels of the jet, gathering force. The trembling whine caused Meadow’s seat to vibrate, and she gripped the armrests tighter in an effort to keep them from shaking.

Her stomach lurched. Unable to bear the menacing sights around her, she squeezed her eyes shut once more. If she could have dared to let go of the armrests, she’d have clamped both palms over her ears too.

A featherlight touch against her collarbone startled her. She tensed, every muscle in her body taut with frightened awareness. His fingertips slid down her skin, from the base of her throat to the valley between her breasts, where they paused for the length of a stuttering heartbeat.

“What are you doing?” she ground out between gritted teeth.

“Touching you.”

The plane moved. It gathered speed, zoomed down the runway. She pictured it sliding along the slick pavement, its sharp nose intent on splitting the air as it soared up into the darkness.

His fingers dipped beneath the lapel of her suit jacket. He found the top edge of her camisole and slipped beneath that too. The heat of his hand warmed her breast, sending a stream of erotic impulses to flood her tense body.

His other hand worked its way up to her throat. He cupped the back of her neck, slipped his fingers among her curls, and formed small circles with his thumb against her skin.

Intriguing though it was, she knew his touch couldn’t distract her from the inevitable lurch of the plane taking off. She braced herself for the moment her stomach would plummet to her ankles.

It never came. Instead, at the exact instant the airplane’s wheels left the runway, his lips fused over hers. His mouth claimed hers and settled there, soft and warm. He didn’t push or force the kiss to become more than what it was — a soothing, genuine anchor to the world dropping away into oblivion.

Meadow’s reality shifted, righting itself as the airplane tilted, rocketing skyward. Unable to trust herself, she curled her fingers into her palm to keep from running them down his chest.

At that moment, she understood what his plan had been all along. He’d meant to distract her, and against all reason, it had worked.

But now that they were in the air, she could handle the fear. She’d gotten over the worst of it. Besides, she couldn’t very well keep her lips flush against Kirk’s for the next eight hours. She had to move away, to break the connection between them, and reestablish some much-needed boundaries.

She told herself it was gratitude that kept her from doing just that. But when the tip of his tongue caressed the seam of her lips, the desire pulsing through her veins took on a life of its own. Rather than pull back, she parted her lips and met his tongue with hers.

A sharp stab of need arrowed deep between her thighs at the contact. Her sex pulsed, fluttering madly against the leopard-print silk of her thong.

She caught his answering groan. His grip on the back of her neck tightened, and he pulled her closer as his tongue invaded her mouth. The tension keeping her spine rigid melted just a fraction, allowing her to lean into his kiss.

He tasted just as she remembered, like cinnamon and male heat. The rough scrape of his beard against her chin sent another wave of longing to shimmer through her veins, stoking the twin flames of desire and curiosity.

What would it feel like to have those lips pressed against her flushed sex? To know the intimate brush of his beard along her inner thigh? To clamp her thighs tight around his head as his tongue delved deep within her folds and –

“Pillow, ma’am? Sir?”

She barely heard the flight attendant’s question. She’d have ignored it altogether, but Kirk swiped at her lower lip one last time before pulling back and glancing up at the woman.

“We’ll take two of those.” He reached out and grabbed the offered pillows. “And two more blankets, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Meadow’s lips hummed with the lingering sensation of the kiss. Flexing her stiff fingers, she risked letting go of the armrest long enough to bring them to her mouth. Just as she feared, her lips were swollen from the kiss.

A blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks. Her heart pummeled her breastbone, yet Kirk looked as calm and unperturbed as ever.

For a fleeting moment, she had the urge to slap him, just to see if he’d react with something other than a quirky grin. Squelching the impulse, she waited until the flight attendant returned with the blankets. The woman’s name tag read Shelly O’Rourke. When Shelly winked before turning away to tend to another passenger’s needs, it took all of Meadow’s self-control to ignore her.

Shifting so her back lodged against the armrest, she folded her arms across her chest and pinned Kirk with a long stare. “You had no right to do that.”

He studied her face for what felt to her like an eternity. The heat of his gaze lingered on her skin as sure as if he’d touched her.

“I wanted to,” he said at last, his voice low and husky. “More importantly, you wanted me to.”

Lingering traces of panic whispered through her mind. To her surprise, the terror had lost some of its severity. “I didn’t ask you to –”

“You didn’t have to.”

He unfolded one of the blankets, then spread it out over her legs. He did the same to the second and laid it across his lap.

She’d just opened her mouth to say she wasn’t cold when the lights in the cabin dimmed.

“I think they want us to go to sleep.” He reached out and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. His knuckles brushed against her cheek. “Do you want to go to sleep, Meadow?”