Landon didn’t know he could feel such joy. But that was what Iris brought him.
It didn’t hurt she was fucking hot and a wildcat in bed. He was the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet to be able to spend forever with her.
The heat from her core had his dick begging to be inside her. But every time he tried to shift positions, she’d move away with a throaty chuckle. “Tsk, tsk. Patience my friend.”
Iris teased and taunted him until they were both whipped into a frenzy that even she couldn’t resist. He flipped her onto her back and slid into her heat. It didn’t take long for either of them to hit that peak and fall over the edge.
Landon curled up behind Iris, inhaling the unique combination of sex and the flowery scent of her hair. “You’re off today, right?” she asked.
“I am. Why?” His eyes slid closed, the lull of her husky voice washing over him.
“I was wondering if you’d be interested in doing some house hunting.”
He opened one eye. “House hunting?”
“Yeah.” She paused, rolled over onto her back, and bit her lip. “In about seven months, this place is going to be too small.”
“Seven months? Why…” Both eyes popped open and he lifted his head to look down at her. “You mean?”
She nodded, and her indigo eyes were full of happiness. “I’m pregnant.”
Stunned, he couldn’t speak, but he moved his hand to span across her still-flat belly. “You’re carrying our baby.”
“I am.”
Time may have stopped—he couldn’t be sure. Everything he could ever want was in that bed with him.
“I love you, Iris. Let’s go find our home.”
About the Author
Eliza Peake is an international bestselling author of sexy, heartfelt, small town contemporary romance. She writes stories with smart, saucy heroines, charming, swoonworthy heroes who love their women in all the right ways, and happily ever afters with all the feels. She also co-hosts The Misfits Guide to Writing Indie Romance podcast.
In her downtime, she reads all the panty-melting romances she can get her hands on, drinks gallons of coffee, and tries to wrangle her addiction to Mexican food.
She currently resides in North Georgia with her family and dreams of retiring to the beach someday where she will continue writing steamy romance stories to her heart’s content.
Sign up for her newsletter, The Sneak Peake, at http://elizapeake.com/subscribe/
Devil’s Bride
Sarah Bale
Sometimes your knight in shining armor ends up being a biker in leather.
1
“Kinsley listen to me. If…if anything happens tonight, just know how much I love you.”
The Senator’s words slur together as he hugs me tightly. Since Mom died, this is how he copes. My fiancé didn’t want him here, but I assured him that my father could pull it together for one night.
“Dad, everything’s going to be fine.”
He shakes his head, taking another drink. My fiancé comes to my side, pulling me away. I don’t miss the look of disgust on his face.
“Come, darling. Our guests want to congratulate us.”
Planting a smile on my face, I greet more people than I can remember. Each person says a variation of the same thing. How lucky I am. Never how lucky he is. He’s eating it up, but to me it feels so…fake. The people. The warm wishes. All of it.
I’m finally left alone, and I slip into a dark alcove to watch the guests and sip my pomegranate wine. Will they even notice I’m gone? I doubt it. All they see when they look at me is my fiancé and the dollar-signs behind his name. I’m nothing more than a bird in a gilded cage that he bought and paid for.
Something stirs behind me and I jump. A man steps from the shadows, and every hair on my body stands on end. This man is dangerous. I should run, but I find myself drawn to him. He’s tall—so tall that I have to tilt my head to look up at him. He’s dressed like every other guest in his designer tuxedo, but it doesn’t suit him. No, right now he looks and moves like a predator stalking its prey.
“I didn’t realize anyone was in here,” I stutter.
“I apologize. I was smoking, and you looked like you needed a break.”
His deep voice sends shivers of awareness down my spine. As he gets closer, I catch a hint of smoke on his skin. It’s familiar, but I’m not sure from where.
He stands next to me, so close that our arms touch. “Quite the gathering. I’m sure the couple must be thrilled.”
I peer at him. Does he not know who I am?
“I’m sure they are.”
“It’s all bullshit. No one that’s truly happy has a shindig like this.”
“Oh?”
“In my world, they’d have a small gathering, with close friends and family celebrating around a bonfire.”
“That sounds nice.”
Something I’ll never have.
We stand in comfortable silence until he sighs.
“I hate to do this, Princess, but I’m about to ruin your party.”
“Wha-”
He grabs my arm, pulling me with him.
“Stop! You can’t do this.”
“I can and I will.”
“Why?”
“Because your father made a deal that I’m collecting on.”
My breath hitches. “What kind of deal?”
“You’ll see when we meet the officiant.”
“Officiant?”
He smiles, but it’s anything but friendly. “That’s right, Princess. You’re about to marry the President of the Devil’s Regents.”
“But…I don’t even know your name.”
“It’s Hades.”
His name doesn’t mean anything to me, but the Devil’s Regents does. It’s a notorious motorcycle club that is feared, and with good reason. He pulls me through a set of doors to an empty hallway.
“I think you’ve got the wrong person!”
He snorts. “I promise you, I don’t. You’re Kinsley Grace Hamilton. Age twenty-four. Born February 15. Only child to Senator Patrick Hamilton.”
I get the feeling that this man would know my shoe size if I asked.
“Are you kidnapping me?”
“No, this is me cashing in on my deal.”
He’s not making any sense, but I know as soon as we get through the doors—I’m in trouble. Leaning back, I dig my heels into the carpet, trying in vain to slow his pace. Hades looks peeved, but shakes his head. Before I can even think of reacting, he scoops me into his arms, tossing me over his shoulder.
“Be good, or I’ll spank your ass.”
“You wouldn’t!”
His hand makes contact with my bottom, and I yelp at the jolt of pleasure that shoots right to my core.
“That’s your warning, Princess.”
“Stop calling me that. My name’s Kinsley, which you already know.”
He doesn’t reply as we exit through the double doors. The Mississippi air is hot and humid, making my silk gown stick to my body. We’re in the alley, and we’re not alone. Three men stand next to motorcycles dressed in all black. When they see us, they climb onto their bikes.