Thursday, November 20, 2008

The Coldest Kiss by Joanna Wylde

ISBN: 978-1-59632-825-9


Nobody dies tonight.The words trauma nurse Summer Kelly found written in the steam on her bathroom mirror make no sense, and they disappear as quickly as the phantom lover of her dreams. How could she know that Death himself has fallen in love with her? And how could she resist him? He's perfect in every way, from his incredible physique to the slightly-tilted slant of his exotic eyes.He'll make her body sing, leave her begging her for his touch, and all she has to give up to be with him forever is...her life. It's time for Summer to decide -- will she accept the Coldest Kiss?

Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual content, graphic language, and situations that some readers may find objectionable: Graphic trauma center situations.


October 30, 3:00 p.m.

Summer's lover leaned back against the pillow, reaching out with one hand to touch her cheek. She nuzzled him, allowing her gazes to run over his form. Light hair, just long enough to look a little shaggy. Chiseled features, with high cheekbones and eyes holding a touch of Asia.
And then there was his body.

Dear lord, his body… She'd never met anyone built like that before, just like someone out of the movies. Smooth muscles worked under nearly hairless skin. Buff without being bulky, he had the look of a man who could run for miles, swim forever, capable of chasing down anyone without even trying. How she wound up with him she had no idea, but she'd be damned if she'd ever let him go.

He ran his finger along her chin and then reached up, tripping it across her lips. She gave a low, throaty chuckle, catching it in her mouth. She sucked it in, tasting the slightly salty essence of him overlaid with her own musky juices. He'd had that finger in her earlier, and just the thought of it was enough to make her wet.

Damn, the things he knew how to do with that finger.

Summer suckled him deeper, willing him to sense through her mouth how much she wanted him, how he made her complete, how his very scent made her want to crawl deep into his body and stay there forever. She reached down with one hand under the sheets, following the hard line of his abs to the hard length of his cock already rising under the soft fabric. Mmmm, that's the stuff. Hot, hardening quickly. She felt along his smooth length, musing for the thousandth time at the contrast between the hardening bulk under his still slightly loose skin. She played the loose skin a bit, rubbing it against the stiffness underneath until there was no give left in his flesh.

He sighed, leaning back and allowing his eyes to close. They both knew her next move.
She pulled her head away from his hand, allowing the finger to slowly slide free. He smiled softly, anticipating. Then she leaned over him, kissing his lips, his chin, the soft skin at the base of his neck. Just the slightest bit of stubble, not enough to be rough against her flesh, but enough to remind her that before her lay a true male. He might allow himself to remain passive, but she knew just how much coiled strength his form held. He lifted his hands up to her shoulders, kneading them, offering her the slightest bit of pressure downward. She gave a low laugh, filled with the power of a woman who knows how much she's wanted.

"You know the rules. Don't get greedy," she said, shrugging him off. At the same time she gave his penis a bit of a squeeze, emphasizing her point. He nodded, that satisfied smile growing broader. They both knew how to play this little game; they'd been together forever, each day building on the next.

She kissed down his chest, his skin scraping slightly against her moistened lips. Shoulder blade, the edge of his pectoral, and then dusting around one nipple. She saw the small, brown flesh there tighten, little nubs ringing it as he stiffened up. His penis hardened under her fingers, and he gave a little groan. Summer's tongue flicked out, playing with the nipple. The muscles of his chest went hard with tension and she knew she'd pushed him almost too far.


She allowed her tongue to trail away from the nipple, following the hollow between his pecs down to his stomach, licking over the ridges of his taut abdominal muscles. She paused at his navel, tongue darting in, and then gave another throaty laugh as his already tense body tightened further. Without further teasing, she dropped her head and pulled his cock into her mouth, sucking it in deeply. She tasted him, traces of the salty sweet seed she knew he longed to spill into her body. Yum. Twice now he'd come, but the man was unstoppable, always ready to share himself with her.

She bobbed her head up and down on him, sucking in and letting go, working with her tongue to give him as much pleasure as he'd given her this evening. Love filled her heart, spilling over throughout her entire being. She wondered if a woman could burst from love, from the profound sense of joy and excitement that came from being with the person who formed the other half of your soul.

He groaned and his hips bucked up under her mouth. She pulled him in once more and then --
-- the scream of her alarm clock broke the moment. She looked up at him, panicky, and found nothing. Instead her eyes snapped open on an empty bedroom in a cheap apartment.

Reality set in.

Another fucking dream, and they always ended just as things were going to get really good. Well, not always, but still… How bloody unfair was that? And why did they all have to be about that creepy guy at the hospital? Although to be fair, he wasn't actually creepy, he was hotter than hell. She saw him in the ER all the time, but never could figure out what he did. Not a medical professional, he always wore a suit. Nobody else seemed to notice him, or at least they never mentioned him. Probably a lawyer; they liked trauma centers. Vultures, all of them. Every accident was just a lawsuit waiting to happen.

The hot water of the shower did nothing to improve her mood. She certainly felt as sore as she might after a night of intense sex, and she stretched her limbs, feeling them creak and pop. This must be part of aging. She'd be thirty this year, and while it hadn't ever seemed that old, maybe this was the first sign.

Summer stepped out of the shower, and stood looking at the mirror blearily. Everything would be fuzzy until she got her contacts in for the day, but there was something weird about the misty surface. She leaned in, peering like an owl, feeling positively elderly. Was it her imagination, or was there something written on it?

Dear God, there was. Clearly, as if someone had dragged a finger through the condensation.
Nobody dies tonight.

She blinked, fumbling for her glasses to double check. Nothing but steam covered the mirror. No words, just one crazy woman peering around like a deranged owl. Lovely. Horny and losing her mind -- just the right way to start the day. Hopefully things would be better once she got to the hospital. Her patients needed the best she had to offer.

Copyright 2008, Joanna Wylde

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