Wednesday, December 4, 2013

Wicked Wanton Wednesday is on Santa's Naughty List




Welcome to my naughty holiday blog.  This month I will be featuring authors from the brand spanking new Blushing Books release; The Naughty List.



 

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To help celebrate the release and in the giving spirit of the holidays, I will be giving away a free copy each Wednesday in December.  To enter the giveaway, all you have to do is leave a comment about today's sexy excerpt.  
 
Today our featured author is Maren Smith with a sexy excerpt from Something Has to Give. 

Freshly divorced and newly-discharged from the military.  Quint Rydecker comes home for the first time since his wife left him, expecting to find his house empty and quiet.  Then he meets Elsie Redding.

Elsie Redding thinks she's found a place to call her own - an old abandoned farmhouse in the middle of the Utah desert - where she might finally evade the debts and hard times haunting her.  The she meets Quint Rydecker.

Now, like soldiers on opposing fields, Quint and Elsie wage war with that old farmhouse as the only prize.  Both are determined to get rid of the other before winter closes in and they find themselves unwillingly stranded together.  There are just two problems: no matter how much she tries, Elsie can't seem to harden herself against the guilt of taking the handsome solider's family home; and no matter how much he tries, the longer they're together, the harder it is for Quint to resist the lovely, kissable and all-too spankable Elsie Redding's charms.


Enjoy an excerpt from Something Has To Give:

Quint awoke with the light of the rising sun glaring through a crack in the window curtain and falling directly across his face. Right away he knew he had two major problems: the first, Elsie was making a full-frontal assault on his side of the bed. Sometime during the night, he had taken back the pillow, and she had retaliated in true female fashion by turning him into a pillow instead. Her cheek was plastered to his chest. Her arm lay heavy across his stomach and she had one leg thrown indifferently across both of his. Flyaway wisps of tangled brown curls were tickling his shoulder, neck and one side of his face. She was snoring. Soft little in-drags of breath that puffed out again, spreading sleepy warmth across his pecs and down his ribs, adding merciless fuel to the fire of his second problem—he had morning wood the likes of which no military man wanted to wake up with while living in a barracks-full of men. Like, ever.


Except that Quint wasn’t in a barracks-full of men right now. It was worse than that; he was waking up in bed with Elsie—his mortal enemy (well, maybe that was a bit overly dramatic) and the first woman he’d been to bed with since his last leave with Maydeen. What had that been…three years ago? Oh no, a full-on morning erection was the last thing he wanted to have to explain right now.



He had to get out of this bed before he did something completely insane—like roll Elsie over, rip those pesky jeans off her for the second time in less than twelve hours and, in a long, slow thrust (a motion he was certain would be the single most satisfying movement his body ever made), bury his cock all the way up inside her. He could already feel the mind-blowing heat emanating from her hot little core, like a brand searing its beckoning heat right into his hip.

Elsie softly snored again.

He had to get out from under her. Right now. Before he forgot how much he didn’t like the thieving little wench and made love to her instead.

He tried to move, but she stopped snoring and he froze, praying like hell she wouldn’t wake up. No such luck. She scrunched, hugging her arm in, drawing her leg up his body until her thigh was stroking right up the underside of his cock, pressing it hot against his belly with the bulbous crown peeking out at him from under the elastic waistband of his underwear. When she pulled in a sleepy sigh, her hand coming up to rub at her eyes, Quint completely panicked.

He erupted out of bed, throwing both her and the blankets back onto her side of the mattress and leaping over the protesting top of both in his mad-dash to the bathroom.

“Hey!” she mumbled, thrashing to find her way out from under the blankets.

Quint slammed the bathroom door and threw the lock.

“Jackass!” she barked after him.

Quint didn’t care. He leaned both hands on the edge of the sink and concentrated on breathing. Let her go ahead and think he’d awakened angry. She should be afraid he was angry. Hell, he ought to be angry, not sporting the love-log of all erections!

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Maddie's Intimate Authors Corner:


MT:  Each month I ask my guest authors a personal question, in hopes of drawing them out and giving you a tidbit of information and insight into who they really are, beyond their characters.


Decembers question is related to Santa's list. 

Maren, your name is on the naughty list this year, tell us what you did to disappoint Santa and what the consequences were...

Maren:  Some people already know because SOMEONE (Ana) let it slip that I've racked up 31 demerits at home. What for, I'm being asked now. It's a long story.

I don't talk about it, but I had minor surgery at the end of September. Nothing serious, just had to be done. On the way home, we got into a fender bender (no, I wasn't driving), but it put me back in the hospital and when I finally did make it home from the surgery I was told in no uncertain terms both by the Hubby and the doctor that I was to rest. That's it, just rest. No problem, I said. There wasn't a force on earth that could drag me out of bed, and if I did get dragged out of bed, I certainly wasn't leaving the house. Two days later, my sister in New York called. One of those family phone calls where you drop everything and you just go. So that's what I did.

I waited until Hubby came home, I didn't ask permission, I just told him I would be leaving the next morning. He didn't try to stop me. Never said a word, in fact. He listened until I was done and then he walked into the living room, retrieved the white board, and took it back into the bedroom and hung it on the wall. He wrote demerit across the top and then put two lines underneath.

"Your dad's doing all the driving," he told me.

"Once we get there, Dad's driving the U-haul back and I'm driving his car," I replied.

Another demerit went up on the board.

Hubby then kissed me and said, "Be careful and be safe. In sixty days when you're healed, there's going to be a reckoning and those three right there--" He circled the demerits on the white board. "--are going to be the worst for you to bear."

December 1st was the 60 day mark and we took 2 demerits off the board. I'm not going to say it was fun, but by my estimation, by the time Christmas rolls around I'm going to be back off the naughty list and once more safely ensconced on both Santa's and Dear Hubby's good girl one.


Next week will feature Renee Rose and "Saved" from The Naughty List.  So y'all come back.  Hey!  I can say that, I'm from the south. 

 

Next week