Showing posts with label Brenna Zinn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brenna Zinn. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

Sex-Position Gumby and Unmasked Secrets

TinkNCognito and I just returned from a funtastic time at the annual Wild Wicked Weekend in San Antonio.  I can't wait to tell you all about it.  One of our favorite programs is Sex-Position Gumby.  Authors read scenes from their novels and people act them out.  By people I mean an audience member and her chosen hottie host (male dancers and cover models).  And despite Dalton Diaz's reminder of the "1 inch" rule, it gets pretty crazy.

This year two of the hottest scenes came from Brenna Zinn's recently released novel Unmasked Secrets, a standalone read in the Strip Club for Women series, which follows the employees of Austin's male strip club Iron Rods as they find their HEA.  In this second book, the male stripper is a teacher trying to raise money for his school's drama program when his ball buster principal visits the club.  His Dom persona is just what Hannah needs to relax.  Can she explore her BDSM fantasies with this masked stranger?  Can he risk discovery? 

In the Gumby game, the role of masked Mack was portrayed by 6,4" real life stripper Blake.  Oh is he yummy!  Now Mack uses this really bad Scottish accent to hide his identity, which helps to lighten his serious Dom persona.  The first scene covered their meeting in the club, and the second followed them to a rendezvous.  This is a fun and seriously sexy hot read!!!  It just released 10 days ago, so get it while it's hot off the press. 

And while you're at it, grab the 1st book in the series Iron Rods.  You'll love the dance between bar owner and manager. During the golden age of Austin, Texas, women came from miles around to mix fantasy with flesh at Iron Rods strip club. But time moved on, leaving the club in disrepair and the dancers in sorry shape. Bennett Truitt, estranged son of the club’s aging and half-crazy owner, wants to replace the local landmark with shiny new condos against his father’s wishes. His Trojan horse is feisty Tatum Reynolds, his new hire as manager of the failing establishment. He’s sure she’s the train wreck he needs to run the business into its grave, but never underestimate the stubborn determination of a down-on-her-luck Texas woman.

After another rejection letter, Tatum stares fate in the eye and realizes she’ll never be a professional dancer on or off Broadway. Out of options, she accepts Bennett’s job offer to manage the strip club and is determined to return the run-down Iron Rods to its glory days, no matter what or who stands in her way – even if it means going toe-to-toe with the boss’ son.

Can't wait to see what sexy scenes will be read at next year's Sex-Position Gumby at Wild Wicked Weekend. Thanks to authors Brenna Zinn, Dalton Diaz, Desiree Holt, Samantha Cayto, and Elle James for a great weekend getaway!  Is 2018 registration open yet?

Friday, February 19, 2016

OMEGA Team: Precious Cargo

Precious Cargo
an OMEGA Team Kindle Worlds novella
– by Brenna Zinn

 When protecting innocents and fighting dangerous enemies are the easy parts of the mission…Precious Cargo.


Precious Cargo Blurb

Master Sergeant Duke Gunnison sucks at retirement. He has no intention of turning in his combat boots for golf shoes. His former life in Special Ops, where he protected innocents and fought dangerous enemies, provided the rush he continually craved. Without the constant missions to feed his adrenaline addiction, he’s lost his sense of purpose and he struggles to find meaning in his new life—until he gets a life changing phone call.

Grey Holden, a founder of the prestigious private security agency The Omega Team, offers Duke a chance at a second life doing what he was born to do—a special op to safeguard the daughter of an important Ukrainian diplomat. But Mila Bartosh is not only a special envoy’s daughter, sent to accompany her father as he negotiates the removal of troops in eastern Ukraine. She’s on a secret mission of her own—to exact revenge on a powerful Russian mob boss, guilty of unspeakable crimes.

Mila is determined to help protect her father and accomplish her treacherous undertaking at all costs. But as her tasks become more complex, she unexpectedly reunites with the man who stole her heart and then vanished into the night, never to be heard from again, until now. Her love’em and leave’em paramour is none other than her new American bodyguard Duke Gunnison. With innocent lives on the line, can she carry out her missions while avenging her broken heart?

Precious Cargo excerpt

 “Duke” Gunnison had seen his leg twisted at a gut-churning angle after his team’s convoy had run over a bomb in a Croatian field. His left arm had bled like red rain when two bullets from Serbian rebel forces made holes the size of dimes in his biceps. And after flying through a second-story window and landing on an old Volkswagen Beetle during a Special Ops mission in Sarajevo, his entire body had turned various shades of black and blue, plus a sickening green.

Yet for all he’d put his physique through during his Army career, he was pretty certain he’d never been rougher on it than he had in the last five months since retiring from the military.

He pushed aside a potato chip bag from his bare chest and leaned forward in his extended La-Z-Boy to examine the rest of his reclining form. By some miracle, the definition of his abs still managed to show under sun-darkened skin. His thighs remained toned, at least while he flexed them. Unfortunately, the best part of his view was the new red briefs covering his Johnson.

He’d promised himself to lounge around the house a while and figure out the next chapter of his life when he got out of the service. The steady climb of his weight and softening of his muscles attested to his success on the first half of his pledge. The second half was proving considerably more difficult though.

What did a crotchety ex-Delta Force soldier with skills in espionage, hostage rescue, explosives and the like do in the civilian world? His experience couldn’t be listed on a resume, no matter how good he’d been or the number of medals he’d received. Hell, the United States government barely acknowledged the existence of Delta Force. As far as any potential employer could know, he’d spent twenty years since the age of seventeen as a cryptologic linguist specializing in Slavic languages. Other than working as a translator—no thanks—what prospective jobs were realistic, not to mention personally satisfying?

He reached into the bag and pulled out another handful of chips, then, one by one, slipped the salty snacks into his mouth while pondering the question for the hundredth time. He was a smart guy. He could pick up and live anywhere, whenever he wanted. The world was his oyster. All he need do was make a decision and follow through to the best of his ability like he always did.

So why was making this particular decision so problematic?

Perhaps his sister’s idea of starting his own wilderness outfitter company in Colorado or Alaska wasn’t as crazy as he’d first thought. He had plenty of money. He had talent. He was still relatively young. Sure, he might not be the easiest guy to be around, but if he worked on being a little more pleasant and put his back to the physical demands of the business, he could be extremely successful being a guide out in the wild.

Maybe then he’d find inner peace.

Maybe then he’d feel fulfilled.

Maybe then he could even find a nice girl and settle down.

His hand froze, leaving a final broken chip stranded an inch from his lips.

Settle down?

Oh, hell to the no.

That was it. He needed to lay off the greasy foods. They were affecting his brain. After working almost half his lifetime in counterintelligence and dealing with people who spoke in half-truths or lied as easily as they breathed, he knew too damn well he’d never find a woman he completely trusted. Aside from his military buddies, who had pulled him from more scrapes than any man should have lived through, putting his complete faith in anyone else simply did not compute. Not one little bit.


His heart felt a pang, and a long sigh slipped from somewhere deep inside.

The woman from Crimea.

She’d saved his hide during that mission, plus a whole lot more. A whole lot more.

I’ve never felt this way about anyone.

I want to be with you.

I…I love you.

He shook his head and dropped the remaining chip back into the bag, refusing to think about his last Op, the woman or their time together. Right now, he needed to get up, put on some gym shorts and go for a run. Get some air and work his muscles. At the very least, he should throw on some clothes. A robe or something. A decent man wouldn’t lounge around the house all day in his underwear munching junk food and watching crap on television. He knew far too much about Showcase Showdowns, who was screwing who on the soaps and the latest celebrity gossip.

His cell phone rang, interrupting the disturbing realization. Duke brushed his fingertips on his briefs, cleaning off residual crumbs and salt before picking up.


“Duke Gunnison?”

“Who wants to know?”

“This is Grey Holden.”

Duke sat up and peered at the display on his phone, his lips turning up just a fraction. He recognized the name. How could he not? He might not have worked with Grey Holden, but he sure as hell had heard about the guy. The number, however, had a Florida prefix. Lots of retired military lived in Florida, but the only Grey Holden he knew about hailed from Montana.

“I don’t know any Grey Holden. You’ve got the wrong number, brotha.”

“I think you do. Does Operation Eastern Shield from two thousand six mean anything to you?”

A full-on smile took control of his mouth. “As a matter of fact, it does. Want to tell me why a man from Montana appears to be calling from a state crawling with lovebugs the size of hand grenades?”

Duke heard a long breath being pulled and then let out.

“I hate those fucking things,” Grey said.

“I don’t blame you. Nasty little critters.” Duke retracted the footrest of the recliner and stood. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call, Lieutenant Holden?”

“Just call me Grey. Like you, I’m a civilian now.”

“A civilian with connections. How did you get my number?”

“Let’s just say I’m still in contact with people in high places.”

Little surprise there. Grey Holden has been one of the best, most respected Delta Force team leaders in recent memory. The man had skills, as well as balls the size of grapefruit.

“I’ve started a new business called the Omega Team, with a former Tampa Bay Police Detective. We’re a private firm doing special projects for people who need help and are prepared to pay for the best. Two days ago I received a call from a foreign dignitary who needs someone to watch his daughter. Based on the circumstances, I think you’re the best man for the job. You up for some work, or are you still in retirement mode?”

“A babysitting job?” Duke walked to his bedroom and grabbed a pair of cargo shorts from the floor. Holding his cell phone between his shoulder and his ear, he pulled the shorts up his legs. “I’m a soldier, not a nanny.”

“This is a precious cargo mission. The dignitary is involved in some high-level talks with Russia. His daughter was recently drugged at a nightclub and there was an attempt to remove her from the club while she was unconscious. Her bodyguard saw the situation unfolding after he’d parked and entered the building.”

“Her bodyguard left her alone?” Duke struggled getting the snaps of his shorts to connect. Jesus, he’d gained some weight.

No more chips and beer. Period.

“She had ordered him to stay in the car while she did her thing inside. Fortunately for her, he obeyed her father’s orders of sticking close. After parking, he’d given her a few minutes then he went in. He said he’d stayed in the background and tried to blend into the crowd. Not an easy thing to do, I’m thinking. The guy is fifty-five years old.”

“You’re kidding me?”

“No. He’s worked for the family for years. One of the only people they trust.”

“I know the feeling. So what happened?”

“He said she starting talking to a man at the bar. After a few hours of drinking and chatting, she started swaying and fell into his arms. Then another man came up and they tried taking her quietly out the back door. The guard stepped in, and it sounds like one hell of a fight broke out. In the end, he got the girl out safely, but ended up with two stab wounds, a broken jaw and cracked ribs. He’s currently in the hospital.”

“Do they know who the guys were?”

“Yes. She identified them both to the local police and the head of her father’s security team. One man, a big guy with a skull tattooed on his fist, is known locally as Crusher. He was the one who came in to help escort her out. The other guy, the one she was talking to, is Alik Ivanov.”

“The mobster?”

“You’ve heard of him?”

“Yah. From some of my many missions in the area. He was a piss-ant wannabe thug when I was just starting out in the Army. I’ve heard over the years he’s made a name for himself. There’s a lot of unrest and unstable governments in that part of the world. Perfect opportunities for corruption and organized crime for those with the right connections.”

“Ivanov now controls most of central and eastern Ukraine, as well as the Crimean Peninsula. He specializes in human trafficking, drug running and transporting illegal arms. He’s been busy fostering pro-Russia unrest and supplying pro-Russia separatists with guns and supplies. Apparently, he’s close to Kremlin officials looking to take back control of the area while making big money. The entire region is a hot mess. Although the local officials say they’re looking for both men, it’s a safe bet nothing will be done. Ivanov is one ruthless bastard with people in high places on his payroll.”

“I know all about it.” Duke rummaged through a pile of clothes at the end of the bed. He found a relatively clean T-shirt and sniffed it. “So was the girl a specific target because of her father, or was this a random pick for trafficking?”

“As of this time, no one seems to know for sure. But I can tell you, if Ivanov didn’t know who she was, he certainly does now. Most likely she’s pinging hard on his radar. She was a big fish who got away, which doesn’t look good if you’re supposed to be a smart, tough guy. I’m sure the Russians would love having her in their hip pocket.” 

“So the dignitary is Ukrainian.”

“Yes. He’s been tasked with going to Budapest to negotiate with Russia to keep the Reds out of Ukraine. As far as many Russians are concerned, Ukraine is still theirs. Just recently, they regained control of Crimea.”

“I heard about that too. The story was all over the news.” Duke jostled the phone between both hands while pulling the shirt over his head and poking his arms through the sleeves. The stretchy material molded to his biceps and chest a little tighter than when he’d bought it a year ago. Either he had to get back into shape or buy a damn new wardrobe.

“There are so many Ukrainians who support rejoining Russia, the government is having a time of finding loyal Ukrainian military and local law enforcement. In the past five years, eight Ukrainian officials have been murdered. That’s why The Omega Team is involved. We’ve been contacted to provide a small but capable security detail for both the diplomat and his daughter during the talks, to bolster what protection they already have. Once the talks are finished, the job ends. I’ve hired former CIA agent Burton Laramie for twenty-four/seven eyes on the diplomat. He’s already on his way. I’d like to send you to shadow the daughter.”

“Why not just move the girl to another country? France or Great Britain? I know Ivanov has influence locally, but surely not all the way across Europe.”

“I asked that as well. She refuses to leave her father’s side. From what I’ve been told, she’s quite the ball of fire. Sounds like you’ll have your hands full if you agree to this mission.”

“Why did you choose me to babysit the daughter instead of protecting the diplomat? Safeguarding him is a much better fit for me. I’m not cut out to be a glorified nursemaid.”

“You have extensive precious cargo duty experience. There are few people out there with better records for extracting less-than-cooperative targets.”

“We both know that’s not a good reason. Watching the diplomat is precious cargo duty too, but you’ve given that job to someone else. Try again.”

“The diplomat’s name is Yure Bartosh.”

Duke’s feet rooted to the ground.

No. It couldn’t be.

Ukraine was a big country with plenty of Bartoshes running around. No way Yure Bartosh could be connected. No fucking way.


“His daughter is Mila Bartosh.”

He grimaced as though he’d taken a sucker punch to the gut.

“My sources tell me you may already know her. Is that true?” Grey asked.

Grey Holden had incredible sources if he knew about Mila Bartosh.

Letting out a long sigh, Duke considered how best to answer the loaded question.

“Yah,” he finally replied as he ran his hand through his hair. “You could say that’s true.”

Brenna Zinn Bio and Links

I remember reading about Texas in an Illinois grade school and thinking I probably would never see the great state where real cowboys ride their horses to work every day and everyone wears western hats and boots. Then again, I never dreamed I would elope in Gibraltar with a Navy man who hailed from the Lone Star state. But here I am, smack dab in the middle of Texas, still married to the same wonderful man and boasting not only the greatest daughter on the planet, but three dogs who are as big as long horns.

In between grade school and now, my journey through life has taken me all over the United States, as well as many places throughout the world. Using my travel experience as a guide and peppering in interesting characters I’ve met along the way, I love nothing better than weaving tales of romance and leaving readers yearning for adventures of their own.

Follow Brenna!

Check out my website

Like my Facebook page Brenna Zinn

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Welcome to a series that combines high danger
with intense passion and heady romance.

A series so BIG it takes 5 days to introduce to you to it!
Are you ready to play?
Former Delta Force team leader Grey Holden came from a long line of military who believed the important thing was getting the job done, not your ego. They called themselves Omega Men. Athena Madero, left the police department angry at all the restrictions she faced as she tried to fight crime. They collided, literally, when both were working a covert investigation, the resolution of which resulted in the birth of The Omega Team. Others will join them as the agency expands its scope of activities, everything from hostage negotiation to hostage rescue to industrial espionage to fighting drug cartels to threats to national security. They will be led by Grey and Athena, whose passion for their work is only rivaled by their passion for each other.

Return Feb 18-22

to learn about more Omega Team books
by 10 more authors!!!

Sunday, December 13, 2015

Blog Hop - A Perfect Man for Christmas - part 12

A Perfect Man for Christmas
An erotic serial in 12 parts
Blog HOP

 12th Day of Christmas
by Brenna Zinn

Morgan, curses, debts, a perfect man, sacrifice…

Morgan, curses, debts, a perfect man, sacrifice…

Try as she might to search for the perfect man, all Wynter’s thoughts focused on Morgan, curses, debts, a perfect man, and sacrifice. Again and again, the mantra replayed in a tireless loop through her mind as though the words themselves held the key to solving her predicament.

If only such a thing were possible.

Wynter rubbed her slim neck, fully appreciating her entire body being in one piece. Michael wouldn’t really cut off her head at the solstice festival if she failed her task, would he? With Morgan, that tricky witch, demanding her dues from him, did he have a choice?

She pondered the second question, not truly knowing the answer.

A cold wind blew down the street, lifting and tossing the red and gold stands of her long hair in the air. Above her, the sun peaked in the brilliant blue sky on this, the shortest day of the year. The winter solstice. Time was running out. In a few short hours, the alignment of the stars, moon, and planets with the solstice festival would take place.

She still needed to find the perfect man.

The sad fact of the matter was, she knew the perfect guy. And, if she were completely honest with herself, she loved him. Tall, handsome, magical and kinky as hell, Michael was the perfect man…for her. He would easily be too much for a normal human woman, but she was none of those things aside from the woman part. As a phoenix shifter, she was as far from being a normal human as Santa Claus. Well, actually more. And although she could be reborn from her ashes, she’d need to wait at least 500 years to be mature enough to fly, let alone have sex again with Michael. Where was the fun in that? Five hundred years was too freaking long to wait.

Why hadn’t she realized she loved him before? She’d picked a hell of a time, or lack thereof, to finally figure that out.

Morgan, curses, debts, a perfect man, sacrifice…

There has to be a way out of this mess.

When did this crazy situation start? How did it start? Where could she find the answers? Not from Michael or Morgan. They’d never tell her. Her family had gone deep into hiding almost a thousand years ago. No way of knowing where they were to ask them. Phoenix shifters tended to stay to themselves, even away from other shifter family members. Hard to catch and hard to hold. That was their way and always had been.

When she arrived home, she stomped the snow from her boots and tossed her coat aside, determined to find some miracle that would keep her head atop her shoulders. After pouring herself a glass of wine, she pulled the heavy Five Golden Rings tome from its place on the shelf and settled in for some serious researching. Page after page, she combed through each spell and the various handwritten notes on the margins, losing herself in the familiar magic. Then she came across a page she’d never noticed before. Not once since she’d been given the tome so many centuries ago had she seen its red and green print or the colorful illustration of an oak mistletoe branch.

Oak mistletoe, she recalled, was sacred. The plant bestowed life and fertility, and was considered a powerful aphrodisiac. The berries and stiff barbed leaves had been regarded as a sexual symbol throughout history.

It was also Michael’s sigil.

She flipped the page back and forth several times, trying to make sense of the extra sheet. The spell on the page before and the notes on the page after were ones she’d read dozens of times. How had she possibly overlooked this particular spell all these years?

She leaned in and read the first paragraph of the unfamiliar page. Then the second, and then the third. Each word caused her heart to beat a fraction harder. By the time she’d finished the page, it thudded deep in her chest as though being pounded by twelve drummers drumming

The hell?

Michael’s beast of a car roared in her driveway, pulling her attention from the book. She glanced at the clock. Exactly four o’clock. He was on time, as always.
Wynter met him at the door, her heart still hammering.

Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked before he stepped into her house. With a shaking finger, she pointed to Five Golden Rings tome on the table. “Why was this-all of this--kept from me?”

His eyebrows knitted, creating a deep valley between his emerald eyes.

I’m not sure what you’re talking about. Tell you what?”

I read the spell, Michael, and the notes. I know.”


Don’t play stupid with me.” She swallowed back the strong emotions rising within her. “Not now.”

For a brief moment, he looked as though he might attempt to carry on his charade of confusion, then he shook his head and smiled wanly. “If you’ve seen the page, the time has come for us to talk.” He took her hand and led her to the couch in the living room. “Here. 

Take a seat. You may need it.”

They both sat, still holding hands, she at the edge of the seat. Despite his palm warm against her skin, her insides pricked and shivered as though exposed to frigid gusts of wind.

Do you remember me before I stole the tome?”

His question caught her off guard.

No. What does that matter?”

Everything.” He sucked in a long breath and slowly released it. “Before I stole the Five Golden Rings tome, I was a mortal man. We lived in the same hamlet back in England. I would see you each day when you walked by the fields I worked in. I knew from the moment I first saw you,” he stopped for a moment and stared longingly into her eyes, “that I loved you.”

You love me?

His unexpected confession sent a jolt of electricity down her spine 
that sizzled through her arms and legs, making sitting upright difficult. She braced herself with her free hand, her body swaying slightly. She started to speak, but he placed a finger on her mouth.

Let me finish. There’s much to say.” He cleared his throat. “You never noticed me. So beautiful, wild and free, why would you? I was a simple farmer’s son. But 

I knew I had to have you. That I would die a thousand deaths to make you my own. So, I went to Morgan, the most powerful witch in the country, and asked for her help.”

Wynter felt her eyes widen.

She told me you were a magical being, and that you could never be with a human man. The only way I could have you was to become a magical being too. 

She said she would do this for me under three conditions. I would have to provide a perfect man to sate her appetite each solstice when stars, moon, and planets all aligned. And, the perfect man would have to be selected by you, my chosen love. If you failed your task, I would have to behead you.”
A gasp escaped from her mouth. “That is how this all started?”

He nodded. “There’s more. To complete my transformation, I would need to give her the tome. She needed a spell within it. Once she had the book and the deed was done, she used magic to hide the page. Morgan said that only when you fell in love with me would my debt be paid in full and the page would be revealed.”

Unbidden tears welled and slid down her face.

I’m so sorry, Wynter.” Michel brushed her wet cheek. “I loved you for so long and wanted you with all my heart. At the time, I would have done anything to make you mine. I never meant to cause you any harm, but there was no other way.”

Too choked with emotion to speak, she simply shook her head.

Now that you know the truth, can you ever forgive me?”

He spoke in a voice wracked with concern. Pain and worry filled his eyes. In all their years together, she’d never seen him so wretched. His clear suffering both touched her heart and tore at her soul. At that moment she couldn’t imagine anyone loving someone more than she loved him.

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but this time it was she that quieted him by placing her lips on his. She wrapped her arms around his neck and he drew her in close, deepening their kiss. When they finally parted, she smiled.

Morgan’s going to be pissed,” she said, still finding her breath. 

“She’s not going to be sated with my help tonight or ever again.”

You forgive me?”

Wynter grabbed his hand and stood. “You’ve got a lot of sucking up to do. A lot.” 

She pulled him up and headed to the bedroom. “And I think I know the perfect way to start your penance. This is the longest night of the year, and you won’t be sleeping one second of it. Just be careful of all the feathers when we get in there. 

If you ever buy me another bird for Christmas, I’ll personally make sure you get on your hands and knees cleaning up after it. Then again, having you on your hands and knees doesn’t sound too bad.”


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Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night...

The authors have hoped you enjoyed

 this erotic tale in 12 parts!  

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Blog Hop - A Perfect Man for Christmas - part 11

A Perfect Man for Christmas
An erotic serial in 12 parts
Blog HOP

 11th Day of Christmas
by Riley Bancroft

Covering her exposed breasts with one arm, Wynter clasped the other hand into Michael’s and they burst out the back door of the strip club. Relief washed over her as she followed him down the alleyway in a sprint. Boots slapping the pavement behind them reminded her that Morgan’s goons were hot on their heels and Wynter kept up with Michael’s long-legged strides.

Oh, those legs, his thick muscled thighs and the way they clenched when he slammed…

Ummph,” she exhaled on a breath as they rounded the corner of the building and she slammed into his back, coming to a halt.

A melodic tune filled the air among cheers and chants along the street. Wynter couldn’t believe her eyes. People lined each side of the sidewalk; some had beers in hand. Others sang along to the music. Irish step dancers, wearing custom dresses, pranced down the middle of the road. Behind them, a marching band played “The Twelve Days of Christmas,” rhythmically walking to the beat. No, not a traditional marching band, bag pipes…all piping away.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Michael growled and tugged her through the crowds. “Who has a parade this time of night?”

Apparently someone who appreciated eleven pipers piping,” she laughed in sarcasm at the irony. Someone was playing a cruel joke on them. Whether they incited it upon themselves or if Morgan truly orchestrated this all … they all would soon find out.

Wynter’s family had come into debt with Michael because they wanted the five rings tome--the grimoire he’d stolen from them decades ago--back in their possession. In return, he asked for a piece of property of his own. One who could fulfill his every wicked desire whenever he felt the need to be sexually sated. One who he would mark with his sigil to be his for eternity. One who would provide the “perfect man” for him as a sacrifice every time the stars, moon, and planets aligned in sync with the solstice festival. Luckily or unluckily for her, she happened to be the item he wanted.

Men ogled and hollered at her while she and Michael pushed their way down the sidewalk. Wearing only bikini bottoms in December wasn’t the best fashion choice, but hey, who’s judging when one was about to climb up a stripper pole?

A few blocks down the street, his black Porsche sat parked next to a curb. An older lady stood next to it with a scowl on her face and she tapped her foot. Trixie yelled some Norse curses. “Next time make it two bottles of champagne!”

I’ll do you better than that, Trix. I owe you. For once, you did something right.” 

He released his grip from Wynter’s hand. “Hop in,” he commanded.

 The immediate loss of his touch on her skin sent a lonely ache through her gut, but she jumped into the car still covering her breasts. “Trixie’s not just your secretary, is she?” The tension in the air between the two had been undeniable and definitely had a hint of angry desire mixed in. “How’d she know where we would be?”

He popped the car in drive. Wheels fishtailed as he spun away from the curb. 

“She’s a Valkyrie. They have protective powers over the mercenary they have sworn to protect. Trixie safeguards her chosen in battle.”

Peering over her shoulder at the older woman growing smaller in the distance, she asked, “Aren’t they supposed to be immortal? She looks…well for her age.”

They age extremely slowly. Trix was actually quite the looker in her heyday—quite the female warrior and strategist.” The tone of his words and raised brows hinted at something possibly more.

She spun around to face him in her seat. Heat filled her chest, blooming outward, and set her face on fire. “I’m sure she was quite something to you; that’s for sure.”

A sinful smirk lifted the corner of his mouth. He didn’t take his eyes off the road. “Jealous, my pet?”

Me? Jealous? Of course not. I mean, just the other night I had my lips wrapped around another man’s cock while he got me off.” By no means would she be put in her place. Michael’s the one who locked her into this arrangement with him to begin with.

His knuckles blanched white around the wheel. The haughty expression he sported now replaced with a sneer. “I think it’s time we washed that dirty mouth out.” He veered the car off to the side of road, slammed it into park, and unzipped his pants.

Long, thick, and hard, his cock popped out of his jeans as if breaking out of jail. 

“Your mouth. Now.”

When she met his gaze, those brilliant emerald eyes bore into her. Not only into the depths of her soul, but further. Her pussy throbbed with his command. This man undid her every single time. The closer she got to him, the more time they spent, the more she craved him. She couldn’t get enough.

Her chest rose with each deep inhalation as she licked her lips. By damn, she wanted him to hunger for her like she was starting to with him. “No.” Wynter dropped her arm, revealing her breasts, and moved to place her back against the door. Pressing her shoulders back, the cool air in the car teased her already sensitive nipples. She propped her feet up on the middle console to spread her thighs. 

“Your mouth. Now.”

Sinful desire filled his eyes and a growl vibrated from his chest. He placed his thumb over her clitoris, drawing small circles. “Do not forget who you belong to. 

Nor the debt you must pay for your family. Shall I make you orgasm like this? Bereft of my cock filling you?”

She tried not to move her hips in rhythm of his touch, but found it difficult as her sex clenched in response to the tender strokes. 

Damn, he had a way of driving her body to the need of passion.

He increased the pressure and thumbed her harder. His eyes focused in on her. “Answer,” he bit out.

You will not moan. You will not…she couldn’t stop the sound from leaving her throat. Oh the tortuous ways he pleased her. Body thrumming to life, the exquisite tickle spread throughout her aching pussy, and she couldn’t deny her response to him. “No.” She needed to have him inside and hitting the soft spot that always sent her over the edge.

Come and mount me, Wynter.” He moved her bikini bottoms to the side uncovering her pussy. “I can see you’re ready for me.”

How his brusque words made her lust for him more, she had no 
idea. All she knew or cared about was the fever escalating in her body to have him. She moved in her seat and climbed on top of his, straddling his waist.

I’m always ready for you.” The tip of his shaft barely breached her nether lips. She rocked her hips back and forth to, coating him with her juices.

Michael gripped her hips and slammed her down on his thick cock. “That’s right. You will always crave me.” He nipped her bottom lip before sliding his tongue into her mouth.

Using his shoulders as leverage, she pulled up and then came down hard on him—riding him. Tingles spread throughout her womb with each penetration.

Fuck, Wynter. I want you to want me without the debt.” He clamped a hand on the nape of her neck and branded her with a punishing kiss. The husky way he said her name, the way he claimed her.

Her thigh muscles quivered as the energy pulsated, building up, and overflowing. 

Her inner walls clenched and released. Pleasure overflowed as warm bursts jetted inside and she milked Michael’s cock into sweet oblivion with her.

Foreheads together, their breaths mingled in quick bursts.

Goddess. That was amazing,” she whispered against his lips.

 Michael tensed beneath her.

She could have sworn he froze up like a block of ice.

Don’t ever say that Morgan’s name again.” 

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