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About the author:
Sable Rose is Africa's No. 1 Romance Writer. She writes M/F erotic contemporary romances about dreamy, swoon-worthy heroes and sexy independent women, filled with plenty of thigh-clenching moments.
She's the author of the popular four-book Unhinged Romance Series. She also writes erotic paranormal action adventures in the Adoring Angels Chronicles about scorchingly-hot, super-desirable and well-endowed angels and the strong sassy heroines that fall for them. These books will make your heart beat with anticipation and will definitely take you on a wild and naughty ride.
She revels in being different. Her passion is writing and she writes only what her characters tell her to write. She writes morning, afternoon, night. Who needs sleep?
She adores traveling and has visited over 15 countries. She uses these experiences to craft her stories.
Sable Rose lives in Lagos, Nigeria. No dogs yet. Definitely, no cats.
Here is a short sample from the book:
Wear jeans… why? What kind of a date would require her to wear jeans?
She shook her head, re-reading his text. Okay. Whatever.
Tari’s eyes swept over her outfit. A halter-neck top over white skinny jeans, completed by hot pink pointed-toe pumps.
Her cousin trudged into the sitting-room, hoisting her eighteen month old son on her ample hips. She beamed at Tari. “You look nice. When is he coming?”
“He said seven.”
Chichi’s eyes jumped to the silver clock on the beige wall. “It’s six minutes to.”
Tari shrugged but her stomach spun and dived.
“How did you meet him?”
“Through a friend of a friend.”
“Where are you guys going?”
Tari glanced into Chichi’s round, high-cheekboned face. “I have no idea.”
“Oh! It’s meant to be a surprise, then.”
“All I know is that it’s not dinner or the movies.”
“No dinner? Won’t you be hungry?”
“I’ve had some of your potatoes and corned beef sauce. I’m okay.”
“Well, have fun, T. I have to feed this one.” She bustled out of the sitting-room into another room.
At that moment, the doorbell chimed.
Tari stepped forward and yanked the door open.
Steven loomed in the doorway, in a black long-sleeved shirt over black jeans. On his feet were black and white Air Jordans. His hands were behind his back. He flashed a white grin.
“You look… ravishing, Tari.” His voice was low and throaty.
“Thanks.” She said, flicking out her tongue over her pink lip-gloss. Observed those tawny-gold eyes follow the movement of her tongue. “Come in.”
He shook his head, eyes still on her lips. “Does the owner of the house want me to come in?”
She smiled. “What? Are you a vampire? Come in.”
He dragged his stare up to her eyes. “No time for that. Let’s go.” From behind his back, he produced two helmets. “One for you and one for me.”
Her eyes widened and then zoomed outside to the Ducati parked in front. She turned her head from side to side. “No. No.”
He laughed. “Yes, Tari.”
“Yes.” He pushed one helmet into her hand. “Go on, put it on.”
Steven drew his on, over his brown curls, the visor concealing the top of his face.
Yes, this was different. As promised. Oh God.
She pulled hers over her head and stepped out, shutting and locking the door behind her. He was already balanced on the red and white sports bike.
Planting her hand on his back, she mounted the bike.
“Put your arms around me.”
“Why? I’m fine.”
He shrugged. “You’ll want to hold onto something.”
Yeah right. She placed her hands on her thighs.
He ignited the engine and in seconds, they were soaring into the dark night, the lights slashing a path through the pool of blackness.
Tari gasped, her stomach plummeting. So fast, so quickly! God, have mercy.
Her arms leaped around his waist. Her body leaned into his.
Immediately her nose captured the scent of dark chocolate and musk emanating from him. Yum.
Her fingers pressed against the tiny buttons of his shirt, feeling the heat of his stomach through the material. Her body began an answering chorus.
She could tell he was laughing, laughing at her.
Tari shut her eyes, clutching him with all her might, as they shot out to Admiralty way.
The wind and the sound of the bike fused into one stream of white noise. Her blouse billowed behind her.
Her nipples firmed. Partly because of the slightly chilly air but mostly because of the man in front of her.
She shrieked as they leaned to the side, going around a corner. Oh my goodness.
And then her nose picked up something else. A damp smell. The lagoon. Wow.
Opening her eyes, she glanced around. They were whooshing over the Lekki-Ikoyi Link Bridge and onto Alexander Avenue.
The white lights from the cars and trucks splattered the night. Commercial motorcyclists fell back, unable to keep up with Steven’s bike.
They passed a truck spewing out choky exhaust fumes.
Tari jackknifed to the left, at the same time, burrowing her nose into Steven’s neck. Taking another hit of his scent.
Between her thighs, liquid heat sizzled and dripped onto her panties.
They veered onto Gerard Avenue.
Adrenaline spiked and rocketed through her bloodstream. This wasn’t so bad. It was actually fun.
Awesome! Tari yelled, grinning in the darkness.
She could feel him chuckle.
Now, they were on Alfred Rewane Road, whizzing past the cars stuck in traffic.
Then, Steven swerved off the road, curving into a dark stretch bordered by high-gated residences. He slowed and then stopped, parking by the side of the street.
“You can come down.” He said.
Tari slipped off the bike, wondering if her legs would hold her. They did.
Steven dismounted too.
He gripped her arm, staring down into her face. “Are you okay?”
She nodded, beaming. The headlights from cars driving by on the main road beat his face, lighting it. Without their light, his face returned to shadow.
Without warning, he seized her waist, pulling her to his body so that her back was to his front.
She gasped. His warm breath tickled her ear.
“You want me, Tari.”
Sparks of electricity jumped from his hard body to her spine, skin and limbs. Her heart jack-hammered. “No.” she lied.
His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist. “I can feel your pulse galloping.”
“It’s because of the ride.”
“Liar…” His voice was a deep murmur. “I can’t see them clearly but I can bet your nipples are hard.”
“Steven…” She breathed.
He released her, pivoting her around to face him. His thumb touched the bottom of her lips. His eyes engulfed her.
This was it. The moment when he would kiss her. Tari couldn’t breathe.
“Kiss me, Tari… if you want. Do what you want to me.”
Her eyes expanded. She recognized the hunger in his eyes. But what was he saying? “What does that mean?”
“If you want to kiss me, kiss me.”
Tari stared at him. Was this another one of his games? Why was he waiting for her to kiss him first?
Steven stared down into her face, glorying in the confusion plastered there. He could kiss her; put an end to his craving to devour those lips. But no… some women were better marinated. She was an exquisite creature, accustomed to being adored by men. It was high time for her to be the giver, not just the receiver. He could wait.
“Come, Tari. I’ll take you back.”
He stepped away, to the bike.
Tari stared after him. What had just happened?
She stumbled toward him and then climbed on.
He gunned the engine and the bike jumped, leaving the street and rejoining the main road.
If you want to kiss me, kiss me. Do what you want to me.
The words wove a disquieting melody in her head. What kind of man says such things to a woman? The kind that women always fawn over…
She sneaked a look at him when his eyes flicked to his side-mirror. At his hands manipulating the wheel of his silver Aston Martin. At his solid thighs in black trousers.
She averted her eyes when he slanted a glance at her, noting his concentration on her laps unconcealed by her jacquard sheath dress.
What did a girl have to do to get a little mouth and tongue action? Just once… Just one kiss and maybe it would help tamp the fire burning in her nether regions.
They were on the way to a club. That was all she knew. He had sent her a text earlier instructing her to be ready by ten-thirty P.M. From the moment he came to the door, right on time, he had been a gentleman. Complimenting her on her outfit, opening the car-door for her.
Well, today she had decided. She was going to have to change her approach. No more Ms. Treat-Me-Like-A-Lady.
“We’re here.” He announced, pulling into the frontage of a dark, rectangular building and parking.
Tari surveyed the area. The only signs that this wasn’t a boring residential building were the queues of mostly men in front of the door, the two massive bouncers coordinating the flow of people in and out and the rows of flashy cars lined up along the quiet street.
Steven opened the door for her, grabbed her hand and ignoring the queue, led her to the door.
The two guards burst into wide smiles.
“Mr. Braithwaite, welcome.”
“Tony. Lanre. How are you two doing?”
“We’re good.” They chorused, stepping out of the way.
As Steven slipped into the building, with Tari in tow, she noticed his left hand dip into his jacket pocket and then drop some Naira notes into the palms of the two men.
Inside, still hand-in-hand with him, she glanced around.
Strategically-positioned colored lights strobed and glowed. On three stages in the center of the wide room, skimpily-dressed young women undulated their hips and breasts, simultaneously winding their bodies around metal poles. The men sitting below the stages gawked and drooled. Music thudded overhead. Crimson leather sofas and round centre tables were ranged along the walls, most of them occupied by couples engrossed with each other.
My goodness, he had brought her to a strip joint. Oh my.
He led her to one of these seating areas. This area was roped off and protected by another bulldog who on sighting Steven, yanked off the divider and then vanished away.
“Sit.” He said.
Tari slid onto the sofa. Steven parked next to her.
His eyes were shining with amusement when he glanced at her. His voice held a tinge of laughter. “What do you think?”
Before she could answer, a busty woman in transparent black bra and panties bustled up to him.
“Steven…” She purred, pouring herself over him.
He flashed a grin. “Didi.”
“Is today the day I’m going to give you a private dance?”
Tari stared at her. She could see the girl’s nipples and pubic hair through the flimsy material.
Steven patted her face. “Not today, Didi.”
“Your loss.” She muttered, flinging a glare at Tari and then swaying away.
Tari raised an eyebrow. “Is she one of your conquests?”
Steven’s gold-drenched gaze swept over Tari’s face and figure before he murmured, “I don’t sleep with club girls.”
A black-jacketed male waiter approached to take their order. Steven went for brandy and Tari for gin and tonic. Seconds later, he was back with their drinks and then faded into the darkness again.
She took a gulp of her drink, swallowed. The heat warmed her throat.
Tari glanced at Steven, mouth curving into a smile. “This is the first time a man has brought me to a strip club.”
Steven grinned. “This is not just a strip club.” He jerked his head upward. “There’s a private room upstairs where people fuck.”
“You don’t have to say fuck every time. You could say… they’re making love.”
“I doubt that any one of them up there is thinking of love.”
“Okay, having sex, then.”
He shrugged, swigging his brandy.
Gaze fixated on those pale pink lips drinking from the tumbler, Tari asked, “Have you had sex up there?”
He didn’t look at her as he replied, “Years ago.”
Okay then. She took another mouthful of her gin and tonic. This was turning out to be a date to remember.
Swooping on her like a jungle tiger, he pressed his mouth close to her left ear.
Tari shivered. His voice whispered, “Would you like to go up and watch?”
“Are you sure, Ms. Johnson?”
She strove to get her nerves under control. Didn’t answer. Couldn’t answer. The effect he was having on her must be illegal.
Had to be.
They spent the next few minutes in silence, listening to the music and watching the action in the club, while Steven quaffed three and a half glasses of brandy and she polished off her second drink.
Then, he cut his eyes to her. With a grin dancing on his lips, he asked, “Do you want to sit on my lap?”
Tari eyed him. He was expecting her to refuse. She would show him.
“Yes.” She answered and before he could say anything else, she had shot up from her seat and onto his thighs.
Soft flesh met hard muscle. Instinctively, she burrowed deeper, moving forward and backward.
She heard a low moan behind her. And felt it, rising. Waking.
His arms slithered around her waist. His thumb caressed her belly-button through her dress.
Tari’s pulse sky-rocketed. Her entire body smoldered.
Underneath her bum, he was growing bigger and bigger.
Tari licked her bottom lip.
“Do you find me attractive?” He groaned.
She twisted round to glance at him. His eyes blazed with an insane yearning.
She whispered, “Yes. Do you find me attractive?”
The answer was torn from his throat. “Yes.”
Steven couldn’t believe what was happening. He was always in control, especially in public. He didn’t have erections at the flick of a wrist. She wasn’t the first woman to plant her buttocks on him. So what the hell was happening? She was taking charge. He was losing the battle.
“You’re big.” She whispered.
Steven’s chest enlarged. He could only manage a muttered “Yes.”
What was she doing? “Over eight… inches long… and close to six wide.”
“You’ve measured it.” She giggled. “Are there some women who think you’re too big?”
“I don’t think you are. I’m the perfect fit for you.”
Tari watched as his eyelashes fluttered like the wings of a bird caught in a trap.
He swallowed. Oh damn, she smelt of flowers and honey.
“Can I see it?”
“What?” Steven wrenched himself back from the edge of oblivion. Take back control, man. You’re Steven Braithwaite.
Uprooting her off his laps, he plunked her down on the sofa.
In a harsh voice, he replied, “No.”
Tari’s eyes flew to his face.
He was glaring at the table, breathing in air through his mouth. Then, his gaze zipped to her.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend?”
Tari’s mouth slackened. Unbelievable. Anger borne on the wings of frustrated lust zinged through her blood.
“Now you remember I have a boyfriend… you’ve been flirting with me, playing games…” She snapped.
Steven bit his lip. He was pissed. Pissed at himself and pissed at her for destabilizing him. Throwing him off his game. He wasn’t a thirteen year old boy anymore. Damn. He needed to call it a night. Maybe after dropping her off, he would pay one of his women a visit. Slake this hunger.
“Take me home.” Tari’s lips trembled with rage.
“With pleasure.” Steven muttered, getting to his feet.