Feathers. Lies.
Glitter. Secrets. Lust.
Meet Genie Divine,
the wise-cracking London show-girl on a hell-bent mission to save her beloved
family theatre.
Now meet Abel
Kingdom, the australian gym mogul determined to buy it out from underneath her.
On paper they have
nothing in common, and when they meet, they have even less.
The only thing they
DO have is chemistry.
Undeniable,
rip-my-clothes-off-and-do-me-now-against-the-wall chemistry.
He wants her theatre.
She wants him dead.
The stage is set for
an explosive summer…
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Amazon UK http://amzn.to/1EsUSJE
Itunes http://apple.co/1ES4M5o
‘I’ve left
my keys downstairs,’ she said. ‘There’s a spare in your
set.’
He frowned,
fishing his keys out of his jeans. ‘I havea key to
your door?’
‘You did,
until now,’ she corrected. ‘I’ll have it back, please.’
‘Do you
have one for my door?’
Genie
sighed. ‘Yes.’
‘Then you
can have yours back when I have mine.’
He really
was a world class wind-up, and her temper
flared.
‘Stop being a dick and give me my key, Abel.’
He flicked
through the keys and identified the one for Genie’s
door, then
stepped forward and slid it into the lock.
‘Don’t call
me names when I’m helping you out,’ he admonished her silkily.
She half
laughed at the absurdity of his statement. ‘You’re not helping me. You’re
trying to take everything I have. Believe me, I’ve called you far, far worse in
my head. Be glad you only heard dick and liar.
’‘I haven’t
lied to you, Beauty,’ he said, after a heartbeat, his hand still on the keys in
the door. ‘Not once.’
‘You’re
lying to yourself too if you believe that, Abel,’ she said,
her words
softened by his term of endearment. ‘I sawyou the first
time you
came here. You were turned on watching me onstage.
And again,
watching me tonight.’
‘You’re
dead wrong,’ he muttered, his eyes nailed to her door.He was close to her, and
she could almost feel the anger contained in his taut body.
She wasn’t
wrong and she knew it, and she sensed that
this went
to the core of him. Reaching out, she placed a hand on his chest and saw him
close his eyes in silent resistance.
‘Is it so
bad to be turned on by me like this, Abel?’ she said,
feeling his
heart beating hard against her palm.
‘Don’t fuck
with me, Genie,’ he ground out, pushing her door
open. ‘I
mean it.’
It was one
of those moments when sense goes out the window
and
instinct takes over. Genie tugged at the belt of her robe and
shrugged it
off, letting it fall to the floor in one fluid motion,
revealing
her body in nothing but the nipple tassels and tiny crystal
g-string
she’d left the stage wearing.
‘Is it so
bad to want me when I look like this, Abel?’
He turned
towards her and dropped his eyes, his palms scrubbing over his jaw as if he
didn’t trust his hands if they weren’t occupied.
‘I told you
not to fuck with me, Beauty,’ he breathed, almost
agonised,
and she saw the exact, dangerous moment that his resolve snapped.
He shoved
the keys into his pocket and then his hands were on her waist, lifting her up
onto the hallway table, sending the lamp flying as he parted her thighs with
his hip to let him in between them. Genie gasped when he tipped her chin back
with his hand and dipped his head to her throat, the erotic drag of his hot and
open mouth down her skin. The clean, aromatic scent of his hair surrounded her,
dark silk falling over his brow as a
low,
animalistic growl rattled through his chest.
Genie put
her hands on either side of his stubbled jaw and lifted
his head to
hers, desperate for his kiss yet still shocked by the
intensity
of it when he finally gave it to her. Hard enough to bruise,
designed to
punish, profoundly sexy. She gulped down air and
dragged his
head down again when he lifted it, his crotch hard in
hers as he
clamped her against him with his hand splayed on her
back, his
other hand cupping the back of her neck. He held her as a
man holds a
woman he adores, and he kissed her as a man kisses a
woman he
needs to fuck more than he needs to breathe.
Her hands
moved under the bottom of his tee shirt, and he
broke off
for the briefest of seconds to drag it over his head before
pulling her
into him again, skin to skin. The sensation blindsided
her; the
heat and the beauty of him. Tanned deep bronze in the
way that
only a man who spends his life out in the sunshine can be,
with a fine
trail of dark hair traced on his midriff that she wanted to
follow all
the way down into his jeans. His hands move to cover and
cup her
breasts, making her moan into his mouth.
‘I warned
you not to fuck with me...’ he muttered again, still
angry even
as his mouth gentled over her jaw, grazing the skin
beneath her
ear, drifted over her collarbones to the swell
of her
breasts in his hands, somehow lewder for the scant cover provided by the
crystal tassels than if she’d been naked.
‘You’re
covered in fucking glitter,’ he spoke against her skin as
he dragged
her hips forward to the edge of the table and trailed his
tongue over
the top curves of her breasts. ‘You too,’ she whispered,
smoothing
her fingers over the gold dust that had transferred itself
onto his
shoulders, his cheekbones, his abs.
She drew in
a shuddering breath when Abel lowered his head
and licked
around the edges of the sequinned tassels.
No man had
ever
touched her in costume like this before. Having his mouth slide
around the
tassels was just about the sexiest thing she’d ever seen
or felt,
and her body screamed for his tongue over her nipples.
‘Take these
off,’ he said, tugging lightly on the tasselled ends,
his
restless mouth roaming the curves her breasts. ‘Ineed to taste
all of
you.’
Genie
groaned with frustration, wanting him to see her too.
‘They don’t
come off easily.’
Abel grumbled
low in his chest, like an animal denied
his
dinner. Genie understood; she wanted him
to feast on her just
as much.
‘And this?’
he said, bending to kiss his way down her
stomach and
lick along the top edge of the crystal g-string. ‘Is this welded on too?’
She shook
her head, although he hadn’t waited for her
reply in
any case. He’d already dropped to his haunches, his
fingers
splayed on her inner thighs, holding her open. His hands wer
e firm and
tanned against the smooth ivory of her skin. He move
d the
barely- there barrier of her g-string aside with one finger and studied her,
intent and intense, his lips parted just enough for Genie to be able
to feel the
warmth of his breath between her legs.
Genie’s
heart stopped beating for a few seconds. She’d thought
that she’d
wanted him to touch her in the lift, but nowhere near as
much as she
wanted him to put his mouth on her now.
And then he
did, slow,
warm and sure, the sweep of his eyelashes dark on his
cheek, his
earlier restlessness replaced by unhurried sensuousness;
pure gold.
Watching him, she smoothed her fingers over his hair, saw each stroke of his
tongue a second before the sensation hit her
flesh.
The first
orgasm Abel had given her had been urgent and extreme, driven by the need for
speed. Tonight he took his sweet time, paying attention to her reactions,
licking her slowly, circling his tongue harder when it made her fingers grab
into his hair to rock herself onto his mouth for more. She lost focus when he
laughed, low and sexy, then eased his fingers inside
her,
drawing her clitoris into his mouth. He had her and he knew it, holding her in
his mouth as her muscles jerked and she dug her fingernails into the smooth
bulk of his warm, sports-star shoulders.
His
breathing was almost as shallow as hers for a few seconds,
and he
turned his face to drift barely there kisses a long her inner
thigh
before rising to his feet. His cock strained hard against his
jeans, but
he caught hold of her hand when she reached down to
release
him.
‘Go to bed,
Beauty.’
‘Come with
me?’ she asked, quiet, wanting him, wanti
ng to give
to him as he’d given to her.
Abel shook
his head, and Genie could feel him retreating
even though
he was as standing as close as he could possibly be.
‘That’s not
how this is gonna go.’
Confusion
clouded her mind. She couldn’t get the measu
re of him.
He wanted sex with her really, really badly. He might not have
said it
with words, but his cock couldn’t lie.
‘How is it
going to go then, Abel? You get to help yourself to my
body but I
don’t get yours?’
‘Don’t
pretend you didn’t like it,’ he said. ‘You were the one who
took your
clothes off, lady. I took it that you needed servicing.’
‘Needed
servicing?’ she said, repeating his dumb insult because
it took her
by surprise so much.
‘You heard
me right.’ He scooped her forwards off the
table with
his warm hands on her ass and set her down on her feet. ‘And now you’ve been
serviced, so we can both go and get some sleep.’
Genie hated
that the sound that left her lungs sounded like a
strangled
cat, but it was all she could manage, to articulate the rage
and
frustration and loathing that formed in her chest as Abel
touched his
fingers to his brow in mock salute and disappeared into
his
apartment without glancing back.
Inside his
front door, Abel kicked the nearest chair so hard it flew across the room and
made for the shower. Again.
Inside her
front door, Genie heard the smash. Half of her wanted to
go and
force him to take what he so obviously needed.
The other
half of her
wanted to smash something herself, preferably
something
heavy over Abel Kingdom’s stupid, beautiful head.
USA Today
Bestselling author Kitty French is a total romance
junkie; she
loves to read it, watch it, and most of all to write it.
Her
sizzling Lucien Knight trilogy topped the amazon erotic charts
on both
sides of the Atlantic ~ everyone went crazy for Lucien
Knight, the
wise cracking Viking sex god who can melt underwear from ten paces away.
Kitty lives
in England with her husband and two young sons, and
she is
mildly addicted to fairy lights, wine and stationery.
She also
writes romantic comedy for HarperCollins under the
pseudonym
Kat French.
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