NINE OF SWORDS by Belle Love-Wins: Release Blitz & Excerpt
They hired me to keep her safe. I never planned to give her a baby.My job was to do what I do best.
Watch my target. Protect them at all costs. Kill anyone who gets in my way.
My weapon of choice? Anything with a sharp edge.
But the second I see my newest client, I know I’m in trouble.
The pain in her eyes, her sinful body, those sky-high, take-me-hard, spiked heels I can’t ignore.
In one night, we share more than I thought possible.
Our secrets.
Our torments.
Her bed.
I never expected she’d give me so much more.
Until I find out she’s having my baby.
Then out of nowhere, the threat of danger becomes real.
But I’m ready.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if it means laying down my own life.
Watch my target. Protect them at all costs. Kill anyone who gets in my way.
My weapon of choice? Anything with a sharp edge.
But the second I see my newest client, I know I’m in trouble.
The pain in her eyes, her sinful body, those sky-high, take-me-hard, spiked heels I can’t ignore.
In one night, we share more than I thought possible.
Our secrets.
Our torments.
Her bed.
I never expected she’d give me so much more.
Until I find out she’s having my baby.
Then out of nowhere, the threat of danger becomes real.
But I’m ready.
I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, even if it means laying down my own life.
Warning. This dark and dirty romance is steamy, dangerous, and swoon-worthy. If you like slightly over the top romance stories with a dominant alpha male, this is for you! Standalone romance with no cliffhanger and a naughty happily ever after to give you all the feels.
BLADE
“I should go,” she whispers in a tone that’s as hesitant as the tentative expression on her face as she sits there on the side of the bed.
I want to see her shed all of that bravado for a minute.
Or for a night.
I’d like nothing more than to hold onto her and pull her body onto my lap, pressing her round, firm ass into my stiff member.
And to tell her to relax.
To let it all go.
To just be.
Or to be… with me.
As in on her bed, against the nearest wall, or any flat surface as she so desires.
“No. You shouldn’t,” I say firmly, and flash a hint of a one sided-smile. “This is your room. I’m the one who should get out of your hair so you can relax. Unless you want me to stay. We can keep talking… or I can stay and we can just…not do any talking at all. Up to you.”
She shrugs one shoulder and looks at nothing in particular, her head still facing forward as though looking my way would give too much away. “I don’t know… it’s been a while since I opened up to anyone about myself. Or maybe I never have. I supposed we can keep talking.” She throws me a glance, and I see a bit of playfulness flash across her face. “Wait, what did you mean by we can just not talk?”
“There’s a whole lot going on… between you and me. Tell me you don’t sense it.”
“Sense what exactly?” she pries shyly.
“This. Us. Chemistry. Attraction. Fire. Whatever you want to call it. Tell me you don’t feel that, Sydney,” I demand in a low, raspy whisper.
“All right. There’s… something,” she admits after a long pause.
I slowly lower our locked hands, letting the back of her hand rest on my knee. “Good.”
“So… now what?” she asks, and I hold my tongue, avoiding an answer, waiting for more from her.
That’s when I notice the very subtle way her body turns toward me. Only her leg nearest to me moves, parting slightly, showing more of her bare inner thighs. And I start to wonder if she’s wearing anything under this blouse. The hem of it rests at her upper thighs, not revealing much, except for the hint of a triangular line where her thighs touch and meet her mound. My mouth starts to water as I imagine what she must taste like. Honey, maybe. Or fruity. Definitely sweet and sinful.
“You’re staring,” she adds, shifting a little in her spot. “I’m really not great at… all of this.”
“Tell me what you want,” I say in a low, growling demand and lick my lips. Her little movement gave away something critical. I can smell her need. Her scent. And it wasn’t there before now. I know because every one of my senses is highly attuned, trained to detect the slightest of differences around me. Sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. What it tells me is that not only is she not wearing any panties, but that the simple connection of our hands, our proximity, our sitting in her bed, our earlier conversation, it all has made her wet with arousal.
It’s unmistakable.
And I’m the cause of it.
“I should go,” she whispers in a tone that’s as hesitant as the tentative expression on her face as she sits there on the side of the bed.
I want to see her shed all of that bravado for a minute.
Or for a night.
I’d like nothing more than to hold onto her and pull her body onto my lap, pressing her round, firm ass into my stiff member.
And to tell her to relax.
To let it all go.
To just be.
Or to be… with me.
As in on her bed, against the nearest wall, or any flat surface as she so desires.
“No. You shouldn’t,” I say firmly, and flash a hint of a one sided-smile. “This is your room. I’m the one who should get out of your hair so you can relax. Unless you want me to stay. We can keep talking… or I can stay and we can just…not do any talking at all. Up to you.”
She shrugs one shoulder and looks at nothing in particular, her head still facing forward as though looking my way would give too much away. “I don’t know… it’s been a while since I opened up to anyone about myself. Or maybe I never have. I supposed we can keep talking.” She throws me a glance, and I see a bit of playfulness flash across her face. “Wait, what did you mean by we can just not talk?”
“There’s a whole lot going on… between you and me. Tell me you don’t sense it.”
“Sense what exactly?” she pries shyly.
“This. Us. Chemistry. Attraction. Fire. Whatever you want to call it. Tell me you don’t feel that, Sydney,” I demand in a low, raspy whisper.
“All right. There’s… something,” she admits after a long pause.
I slowly lower our locked hands, letting the back of her hand rest on my knee. “Good.”
“So… now what?” she asks, and I hold my tongue, avoiding an answer, waiting for more from her.
That’s when I notice the very subtle way her body turns toward me. Only her leg nearest to me moves, parting slightly, showing more of her bare inner thighs. And I start to wonder if she’s wearing anything under this blouse. The hem of it rests at her upper thighs, not revealing much, except for the hint of a triangular line where her thighs touch and meet her mound. My mouth starts to water as I imagine what she must taste like. Honey, maybe. Or fruity. Definitely sweet and sinful.
“You’re staring,” she adds, shifting a little in her spot. “I’m really not great at… all of this.”
“Tell me what you want,” I say in a low, growling demand and lick my lips. Her little movement gave away something critical. I can smell her need. Her scent. And it wasn’t there before now. I know because every one of my senses is highly attuned, trained to detect the slightest of differences around me. Sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. What it tells me is that not only is she not wearing any panties, but that the simple connection of our hands, our proximity, our sitting in her bed, our earlier conversation, it all has made her wet with arousal.
It’s unmistakable.
And I’m the cause of it.
I’m a Wall Street Journal (Begging for Bad Boys, April, 2017) and USA Today (Begging for Bad Boys, Alpha for the Holidays, Shifters in the Snow: Bundle of Joy, Shifters in the Shadows) Bestselling Author.I love reading and writing steamy, high-action romance stories about firefighters, billionaires, and alpha males who know what they want and aren’t afraid of laying claim to the women who catch their interest. I love a happy ever after ending. I enjoy reading, hiking, the countryside, and traveling to destinations unspoiled by commercial tourism, like Las Vegas… 🙂
Like so many characters in my novels, I enjoy action, romance and unexpected love connections that take your breath away. For the next while, you’ll find me plotting and writing about my latest stories on my Macbook.
