It’s your last chance to pick up
Where Birds Fly: The Sculptor
eBook for 99 cents!
How about a tension-filled excerpt to meet world-famous sculptor, “Cray”…?
Excerpt for Adults 18+ only!
“Come here.” He holds out his hand for me to walk ahead of him, and points down the nearly deserted, narrow side street.
I’m wobbly as I walk ahead. I’m way too high to be stable thanks to my heeled boots and my diet pills. I walk past the first three stores still busy with late-night shoppers, and find a quiet spot behind the railing attached to a set of basement stairs.
I turn toward him as he steps forward, reaches behind me, and slam! He smacks me on the ass. Hard.
“Huh!” I step back, wedging myself closer to the building, grabbing the railing for support. Lust and desire course through me as I rub my ass where his hand had been only moments before. My jeans moisten as I stare up into his dark, dangerous eyes.
“It’s not a good idea to roll your eyes at me.”
“No?” I lick my lips.
“No.”
“What if I roll them again?” My low, breathy voice surprises me. I release the tiniest sigh as he steps closer.
“Are you testing me?” He backs me up against the building.
“Depends.”
“On?”
I roll my eyes again…slowly.
He moves so fast I barely have time to gasp as he grabs my right forearm and holds on so tightly, I can’t break away. As if I would try. He pulls me off the wall and closer to him until we’re nearly touching—chest to chest, hips to hips. He towers over me and stares into my eyes.
“Do it,” I whisper. “Again.”
He holds my arm tighter, and my body grows tense in response. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, leaning toward him. I can feel him raise his hand behind me.
“Look at me.” His voice is deep.
I open my eyes.
Slam! He spanks me harder this time. I moan as my body jolts forward against his, but I don’t move away. He leaves his hand on my ass, possessively cradling me, rubbing away the pain through my jeans. I nearly explode from desire.
I push closer and the bulge in his pants grows harder.
“Cray,” I whisper.
I move my chin upward, and he takes his hand from my ass, and brings it to rest on my cheek. I nuzzle against it—tears aching in my eyes—as he exhales, loudly.
“Your face was made to be sculpted.” He runs his fingers across my cheekbones and into the hollows beneath them. He moves his hand to my hair that’s fallen across my shoulder, and he weaves his fingers through it. He brushes my collarbone as he does.
“It’s like you were made to be ravaged but protected, all at once.” He holds my chin and draws it upward, cupping me. He rubs my cheek with his thumb.
“Maybe I was.” I place my hand on his forearm that bulges with sinews.
He leans down, and I lift up onto my tiptoes. He tilts his head and his breath rushes out parted lips, crashing into mine. He raises my chin higher…
…and stops.
“Cray,” I’m nearly panting. “Don’t stop. Kiss me.”
He drops his hand and shakes his head. He moves away from me.
“We should go back inside. Janet was talking about something—I really,” he exhales, loudly, “I really didn’t pay any attention.”
Thanks for stopping by!
Elle Middaugh lives in the Allegheny Mountains outside of Clearfield, Pennsylvania, with her wonderful husband and three beautiful children. She spends most of her time raising kids, writing stories, playing video games, reading, and attempting to keep a clean house.
About the Author
Coming In January and on pre-order now: Dance with a Devil, the fourth book in the Blue Cove Mystery Series.
thinks great books are ones you can lose yourself in, thinking about it all day long until falling back into it at night (and on lunch breaks). When her work-in-progress is going well, she drinks organic unsweetened almond milk, and when it isn’t, she mainlines chocolate. She likes to write stories based in reality but with high drama that are a bit funny and modern.
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