Teaser

Kink and Romance: Gentleman

/ Jen Bradlee / 4 Comments

Lady Mira stood in front of the large library window looking out into the rain dampened garden. She folded her arms across her chest and shivered. The unusually chilly May afternoon had ruined her plans for an outing to the park. Her brothers had decided to visit their club, leaving her to fend for herself for the afternoon.

“Your tea, my lady,” Anna said as she set the tray down on the side table. “There’s also a gentleman to see you.” The maid bowed and left the room.

“Who could possibly…?” Her mouth shut as the guest in question appeared in the doorway. “Lucian, what do you want?” Mira stiffened at his presence.

Lucian Musgrave, second son to the Earl of Hennessy, notorious rake, and close companion of her brothers, stood in the archway, his eyes bright as the summer sky. “Where have your brothers concealed themselves on this dreary afternoon?”

Mira poured herself, and her uninvited guest, a cup of hot tea. She picked the saucer and handed it to Lucian. “They are at the club.”

He took a sip of the brew and smiled at her over the cup shaking his head. “No, my dear, they are most certainly not at the club.”

“Are you positive?” Mira set her tea down untasted.

“I was just there.” Lucian took another sip, his gaze never wavering from her.

She bristled at the impertinent expression on his face. “Well, they’re not here.” Mira snatched the cup from the saucer and sipped the hot brew, letting it add to the heat already suffusing her body from Lucian’s presence. As much as she disliked the man, he always seemed to bring her emotions boiling to the surface dragging along desires that were better left buried deep in the recesses of her mind.

“Spending the afternoon alone, cooped up in the library, staring out the window.” He chuckled and set the china down.

As he crossed to the window, Mira kept her distance, uncertain of his intentions. She’d never been alone with him before, but in all the years of their acquaintance, he’d never once crossed the boundary of inappropriate behavior. Danced on the line, certainly, but never set foot over it. She sipped her tea, keeping a keen eye on the scoundrel.

He glanced out into the garden and then turned back to her. The lopsided grin on his lips provided the perfect insight as to how roguish the man truly was.

“You should leave. I’ll tell my brothers you were looking for them.”

Lucian stalked toward her with slow, purposeful steps. He stopped beside her, and she resisted the urge to turn both toward him and away from him. Keeping her gaze fixed on the wall before her, she shivered as he spoke, his breath brushing against her cheek.

“You don’t care much for me, do you, Mira?” The whispered question set her nerves aflutter. He brushed his finger along her jaw.

The cup and saucer slipped from her hand. Mira barely heard them shatter on the floor. She turned her attention to the man tormenting her. With a glare, she snatched his offending hand and pulled it away from her face.

“Whatever gave you that impression?”

He shrugged and then leaned close. “A gentleman can always tell.”

“You sir, are no gentleman,” Mira snapped.

“You are absolutely right.” With those words he closed the gap between them and kissed her in a way no gentleman would dare.

 

Decided to go with something Victorian today. Hope you enjoy it. Whenever I think of a gentleman, I always imagine the facade they maintain. Crossing that boundary of gentleman to rake always provides some fantastic conflict. What do you think?

❤

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Kink and Romance: Forbidden

/ Jen Bradlee / 1 Comment

“Miss Williams, please focus.” The sharp rap of knuckles against her desk brought Taylor to attention.

“Yes, sir.” She replied without glancing up. Straightening her book, she turned her attention back to the front of the classroom.

Mr. Vincent strode to the large desk at the head of the class. “Please be sure to read the last three chapters in your textbook over the weekend. There will be a quiz on this material on Monday morning, and…” The bell rang interrupting him. “Have a great weekend.”

Taylor picked up her book bag and shoved the textbook into it with a bit more force than necessary. She’d been daydreaming again; of course he would call her out on it. It was like he knew every time she allowed her mind to wander. A glance at her Literature teacher confirmed her suspicion. He was staring at her, a scowl on his face. Damn it. She slung the strap over her shoulder and headed for the exit.

“Miss Williams, can you spare a moment?” His voice echoed in the now empty classroom.

Turning to face him, she dropped the bag on the floor and approached his desk. “Yes, Mr. Vincent?”

He ran his hand through his ruffled, caramel colored hair. She wondered absently how soft it was and if it took him more than an hour to get that perfectly disheveled style. One stray lock lay across his forehead, and she fought the compulsion to reach out and smooth it back.

“You’re daydreaming again, Miss Taylor.”

She snapped to attention. “I’m sorry, sir.”

He sighed as he stood and came around to the other side of the desk, stopping within arm’s reach of her. “Is everything alright at home?”

“Of course, Mr. Vincent.”

“What about school? Is something bothering you? Are you being bullied?” He crossed his arms and watched her with those all too observant puppy dog eyes.

“No, sir. Nothing like that.” Taylor tucked her hair behind her ear and backed up a step. “I should go. I don’t want to miss my next class.”

His hand encircled her wrist. “I’ll write you a pass.”

Her gaze snapped up, locking onto his emotionless expression. Before she could speak, he pulled her back and stood completely still, his hand still holding her wrist tight. “Mr. Vincent…”

“Tell me what has you so distracted, Miss Williams.” His heavenly chocolate brown gaze pinned her in place.

“Nothing, sir.” She licked her lips and nearly groaned when he mimicked her. Does he realize what he’s doing? Does he realize what this looks like?

“You’re quite easy to read, my dear. The expressions on your face are like lines straight out of a book.” The room grew warm as he closed the remaining distance between them and leaned close. “Everyone knows how much I love a good book.” His fingers slid along the inside of her arm causing her to shiver.

She backed away slowly. “Mr. Vincent, I need to go.” What does he mean by that? Is he hitting on me? Her heart raced as she backed away; their gazes locked. He scribbled a note quickly and held it out. When she took the pass, their fingertips brushed. Taylor pulled her hand away as if burned by the contact. He’s your teacher. This is wrong. Forbidden. The word lingered in her mind.

“Have a pleasurable weekend, Miss Williams.” He smiled, and she fled the room, afraid he would read the inappropriate thoughts apparent by the heat staining her cheeks.

 

Ohhhh, this is getting juicy. I’m a sucker for forbidden romances, especially Hot for Teacher ones. If I expand it, I won’t keep it as taboo. She’s at least eighteen, so I can have some fun with it.

What forbidden romances do you like to read about?

❤

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Kink and Romance: Elevator

/ Jen Bradlee / Leave a comment

I glanced up at the clock. Ten minutes after eight. Slamming the folder closed, I turned my attention to the screen in front of me and pressed the power button.

“It’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” I mumbled as I picked up my purse and tucked it into my messenger bag. As I walked across the room, I spied the elevator doors sliding closed. “Hold the elevator.” I dashed across the room and caught the doors just before they closed. Once I wedged myself between them, they closed with a solid click.

I took a moment to catch my breath and realized I wasn’t alone in the car. A glimpse of high gloss polished shoes and well-tailored gray suit betrayed the wearer’s identity. My gaze snapped up and I locked eyes with Mr. Henderson, the owner of the publishing firm, Henderson and Asquith, and my boss.

“I hadn’t realized you were working late, sir.” I straightened, brushing the invisible lint from my lapel where his gaze lingered.

When he finally met my gaze, Mr. Henderson clasped his hands before him and angled his head slightly, the way a father would before unleashing holy hell on an errant child. As much as I wanted to avert my eyes, I couldn’t. I stood tall, forcing myself to square my shoulders and hold his gaze. Deep inside I wanted to hide. The man intimidated everyone he met, which is probably why he ran the company as well as he did. He arched his brow but said nothing and turned to face the elevator doors.

Clearing my throat, I thanked my lucky stars he chose to ignore me. I turned my attention back to the doors with a quick glance at the buttons to be sure we were going to the ground floor. My bag slipped from my shoulder as I shifted my weight, and the contents spilled across the carpet.

“Shit.” I grumbled as I knelt down to pick up my files and stuff them into my satchel. When I reached for my open notebook, my hand brushed across Mr. Henderson’s shoe. He stood on my notebook, staring down at it.

“Well, well…do we have an aspiring author in our midst?” He leaned down and picked up the notebook, which to my utter horror I realized contained my daily writing prompt entries. Mr. Henderson flipped through it, his brow arching higher with every page he turned.

I stuffed the last of my papers into the bag and stood. “May I have that back, please?” I asked him with a smile. “Sir.”

He stopped flipping pages, and I cringed as a grin stole across his lips. “Interesting.” He reached past me and pressed the HOLD button. The elevator car came to a halt between floors six and seven. “‘I would choke that man with that purple tie he favors so much. If I ever get my hands on him, I may very well bind and gag him with his entire collection of ties before I fuck him senseless and leave him begging me for more.'” Mr. Henderson met my gaze. “Is that so?”

“Sir, I can explain.” FUCK. I’m so fucking fired right now. Oh, damn. My messenger bag slid forgotten to the floor as Mr. Henderson dropped the notebook and pinned my hands to the wall above my head with one hand. The other loosened the aforementioned purple tie.

“You’ve given me the excuse I needed to punish you properly, Miss Finnegin.”

 

*purrs* I really enjoyed writing that one. I’m thinking it may be a starting point for a longer story later. What do you think?

❤

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Kink and Romance: Dominate

/ Jen Bradlee / Leave a comment

Sarah downed the shot before she rolled the dice. As the cube tumbled across the board, she licked her lips. Anticipation hung in the air, heavy and tangible. She glanced at the three men seated on the floor around the coffee table. Two empty liquor bottles lay beside the game board.

Five, all I need is a five. Please…please, five. Make mama happy! Sarah struggled to keep her expression impassive as the die slowed and landed with a final thud on the board.

“Five.” Mark groaned as he reached for the third bottle…whiskey this time. “Fuck.”

It took strength of monumental proportions not to punch the air with her fist and do a victory dance around the room. Sarah shrugged as she pocketed the cash sitting in the center of the board.

Andy glanced at Jeremy, then the duo turned to Sarah. The expression on their faces made her almost regret the bet…almost.

“So, we lost.” Jeremy turned to Mark and snatched the bottle from his hand. Taking a huge swallow, he wiped his hand across his mouth and handed the whiskey to Andy. “What now?”

“Guess it’s too much to hope for double or nothing, huh?” Andy smirked as he took a shot.

“Well, we could play another game.” Sarah struggled to keep her voice from wavering. Even with the amount of alcohol the four of them had consumed, they were nowhere near drunk enough to even consider her insane suggestion. Were they? The three men stared at her.

“Fuck it, I’m in.” Jeremy threw his hand up and took another drink.

Mark and Andy exchanged glances before nodding in unison.

Sarah divided the money into three piles on the table, adding an extra twenty dollars to the top of each pile. Slowly, she stood and crossed the room to where her scarf lay draped over her jacket on the chair.

“Who goes first?” Sarah asked, wrapping the scarf around her hands and rejoining the small circle.

“First for what?” Andy’s gaze followed the motion of her hands and the silk as it slid between her fingertips.

“Stand up.” She motioned for them to stand and come closer. “Stand around me, all of you.” Sarah tied the scarf across her eyes and let her hands fall to her sides. The heat from their bodies soaked into her skin as they surrounded her. She licked her lips and couldn’t help but smile as she began to spin. Seven turns and she stopped, reaching out to grasp the man before her. When she pulled the silk off, Sarah’s gaze met Mark’s intense brown eyes.

“Let me guess, I’m first?” His cynical, lopsided grin made her fingers twitch in anticipation.

Draping her arm over his shoulder, Sarah leaned closer. “Sit down.”

When Mark made no move to sit, she wrapped her hand into his shoulder length black hair and pulled. The half-gasp, half-moan that emanated from his lips made her grin in satisfaction. He dropped into the over-sized armchair behind him, and she followed, straddling his lap.

When she glanced over her shoulder into the shocked faces of the other two men, Sarah chuckled. “The game is simple. If I can make you beg for me, I keep the money.”

 

Wowzers, was that hot!! *fans self* Hope you enjoyed today’s teaser. Do you think I should expand this one? I’m curious to see how far she takes this little game.

❤

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Kink and Romance: Confession

/ Jen Bradlee / 2 Comments

Shifting in my seat, I leaned to the right a bit to catch sight of him again. Black slacks accentuated those long legs, while his black shirt pulled tight against his broad shoulders. His black hair was perfectly combed and yet just wild enough to make me want to run my fingers through it. I wanted the man with a ferocity that terrified me, and I hadn’t even seen his face yet.

He glanced to the right allowing a glimpse of stubble shadowing a strong profile. Oh sweet merciful heavens. When he smiled at the barista, I could have melted into a puddle on the ground. The man was sin and decadence clothed in simple black cloth. I wanted to pin him against the wall and rip off every scrap of fabric with my teeth.

I glanced away as he shifted, afraid he would catch me staring at him or even worse, afraid he would know exactly what fantasies played in my mind. I’m an easy person to read, and I blush at the slightest compliment. Embarrassment and my fair skin have been able to come to an agreement. Taking a sip of my coffee, I turn my attention to the street outside in an effort to calm my racing heart.

“May I join you?”

The deep voice startled me, and I nearly dropped my coffee. When I glanced up, his smile caught my attention first, followed by the white tucked into his black collar at the hollow of his throat. Oh my fucking…I was lusting after a priest!

I gestured to the seat across from me, unable to form a coherent thought amidst my conscience berating me for fantasizing about a priest. I was going to hell. There was no escaping it. I cleared my throat as he sat down.

“Forgive me, Father.” I cringed as I said it. “Sorry, that sounded trite.”

“Don’t worry about it. It happens more often than you’d think.” His smile never faltered, bless his heart.

If he knew the sins I’d committed in my mind, he wouldn’t be smiling he’d be running like hell. I winced at the overly bad puns my mind insisted on conjuring.

“Are you well?” he asked before taking a sip of his tea.

My gaze snapped up, meeting his curious, green eyes. “Fine. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“I’m Andrew.” He set the cup down. “You look a bit overwhelmed. Would you rather I leave you to your thoughts?”

“No, I’m fine.” I grin at him while trying to beat my conscience into submission. “Just daydreaming.”

“Nothing wrong with that.” Father Andrew took another drink before focusing his intense gaze on me. He licked his lower lip, catching a droplet of liquid.

I clenched my eyes shut and glanced away. I’m going to hell. I can’t take this torture. God, this is totally unfair. When a warm hand covered my own, I gasped and moved to pull my hand back. He refused to let go and met my gaze with a confidence that shook me to the core.

“So tell me,” he whispered, his voice low and ripe with innuendo, “how long has it been since your last confession?”

 

What do you think? Confession has always been a fantasy/role play I’d like to try. I’m not Catholic, but I love the forbidden aspect of this kind of pairing. What do you think? Taboo too much, or an indulgence?

❤

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Kink and Romance: Bound

/ Jen Bradlee / 2 Comments

Erin stood with her hands on her hips. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you tie me up.”
Warren set the camera down and picked up the rope. “I swear I’m not going to tie it tight.”
“I don’t care, Warren. Don’t you even care that I have a fear of being tied up?” She screamed at him, her eyes wide.
“Merinthophobia, yes. For God sakes, it’s just for a few moments, just so I can get the shot from the angles I need. Then I’ll put the breakaway ropes on for the rest of the scene.” He took a few steps toward her, unraveling the rope in his hands.
“Why don’t you just use those in the first place?” Erin crossed her arms and backed away from him.
“Because it won’t look realistic if I do all the shots with the breakaway.” Warren pouted. “Please, pretty please, with sugar on top.”
“What do I get out of this?” Erin pushed her red hair away from her face in agitation.
“My respect?”
She scoffed. “You’ll never get that.”
Warren frowned and dropped his hands to his sides. “Ouch. I may need a week to recover from that blow.”
“We may have been friends for the last ten years, but that doesn’t mean I trust you.” She pointed at the coil in his hands. “Especially with that.”
“What will it take for you to let me do this?”
“Two million dollars and a week on the beach with Tom Hiddleston.” Erin grinned at him.
“I’m serious. I’ll grant you anything within my power—” he gave her a pointed look “—if you let me do this. Five minutes, cross my heart.”
“Anything?” Erin arched her brow.
“I swear.” Warren marked an x over his heart with his finger.
“Fine.” She crossed over to the tree and gestured toward the rope. “Go ahead.”
“Really?” He hurried over and began binding her wrists, then wrapped the rope around the tree. His hands brushed the bare skin of her arms as he tied her. When he finished, he glanced up. “Are you okay?”
Erin’s eyes were squeezed closed, her breathing rapid, and her lips pressed together. She nodded and took a deep breath. Warren turned to reach for his camera when her voice stopped him.
“Kiss me, Warren.”
He turned and faced her. Their eyes locked. He approached her, slow and hesitant. “What did you say?”
“My request in exchange for you binding me.” Her voice wavered for a moment. “I want you to kiss me.” She licked her lips. “Kiss me as though it’s your only salvation, claim me.”
Warren ran his fingers across her bare shoulder and trailed them up her neck. Grasping the back of her head, he leaned close and whispered against her lips. “I knew you were lying.”

 

Well, well, well…that surprised even me. 🙂 What do you think happened here?

❤

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Kink and Romance: Adoration

/ Jen Bradlee / 2 Comments

No warnings today. 🙂 This one is pretty tame. Enjoy.

 

As the credits began to scroll across the screen I glanced at Hunter who lay half draped over the edge of the couch fast asleep.

“Why do I even invite you over to watch movies with me? You always end up passed out by the end.” I sighed as I glanced down at his face.

The thick lashes I’d envied for years lay against his cheeks. His dark hair hung in waves across his forehead and along his collar. Even though his tall frame extended past the full length of my couch, he looked like a child curled against the soft blanket. A twinge of conscience nipped at me as I stared at my best friend as he slept.

Creeper. What’s wrong with you? I shook my head and laid my hand on his legs to push them off my lap.

“Meg,” he murmured as he curled deeper into the blanket.

I slowly disentangled myself from beneath the weight of his gangly legs. I didn’t have the heart to wake him. After turning off the television, I snatched the blanket off the back of the recliner, shook it out, and draped it over Hunter. I brushed his hair away from his face and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead. The spicy scent of his shampoo lured me closer, making me want to bury my face in his hair.

“Don’t leave me.” Hunter’s sleepy voice broke the serenity of the moment.

A flurry of nervous butterflies took flight in the pit of my stomach. I froze, hoping he was only talking in his sleep again. With careful steps, I backed away from the couch and disappeared into my bedroom. After brushing my teeth, I curled beneath the cool sheets in my empty bed and stared at the wall.

The gentle shift of the mattress brought me to full attention. A strong arm wrapped around me, pulling my body back against a solid, warm chest.

“Hunter, what are you doing?” I asked as he wrapped his leg around mine.

“Sleeping.” His voice reverberated through me as he held me tighter.

I’d never be able to sleep with him holding me like this. Every fiber of my being stood at attention craving something, anything from him. The steady rhythm of his breathing echoed the pounding of my heart.

I resented that the smallest scrap of adoration from him left me starving for more.

 

Hope you enjoyed my little teaser. What do you think should happen next? Let me know in the comments. 🙂

❤

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Winter Warm-Up Blog Hop

/ Jen Bradlee / 8 Comments

Young couple embracing

Welcome fellow romance lovers! Thank you to our host, www.hopswithheart.blogspot.com, for this amazing opportunity.

Click HERE for their Grand Prize Giveaway a $75 Gift Card!

CLICK HERE for a chance to win a custom pendant and an e-copy of my short story, A Cat Without A Grin.

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(Pendant is an example of the winner’s prize. Photo of your choice!)

Thank you all for stopping by my blog today! Voracious readers know the best way to warm up in the winter is to sit down and enjoy a good story accompanied by a cup of hot chocolate (or coffee if you’re so inclined.) So fill up your mug and join me for a little romantic teaser to keep you warm this holiday season. ❤

***Warning: May be TOO hot to HANDLE***

Sliding the key into the deadbolt lock, Diana felt the distinct absence of the bolt’s resistance. She opened the door to find the apartment ablaze in light. The hall light, the kitchen, living room, and…she frowned. Why the hell was her bedroom light on?

“Damn it, James!” She shouted as she slammed the door behind her. Diana dropped her keys and purse onto the entryway table and unwrapped her scarf as she walked down the hall. “Where are you hiding, you little shit?”

The television was on in the living room, a movie paused on the screen. She cocked her head at the odd scene on the TV and laid her jacket on the couch along with her scarf. The frozen image of a dark haired man speaking into a walkie-talkie nagged at her. Ah, Die Hard. Her brother swore it was the best Christmas movie ever. She rolled her eyes and moved toward the kitchen. Nothing is better than A Christmas Story, except maybe While You Were Sleeping.

Rounding the corner, she kicked the open refrigerator. “I told you to keep the power use to a minimum, James. Not like you care or anything. It’s not like you pay the bill.”

The fridge raider slowly rose from his crouched position. His green eyes piercing an arrow straight into her chest. Her mouth opened and closed several times as she backed toward the phone.

“You must be Diana.” He smiled.

Her heart thumped and sputtered like a flooded carburetor. “Where…where’s James?”

“In the shower.”

“In the middle of Die Hard?”

His eyes sparkled with what she could only interpret as appreciation. “He spilled beer on himself in all the excitement.”

“On my couch?” Diana screeched as she darted into the living room. “I told him he could stay with me if he didn’t wreck the place. Damn it.” She mumbled as she searched the area around the couch. But there was no stain. She sighed.

“I cleaned it up.” He stood leaning against the back of the couch.

“Where?”

“Can’t you see it?”

Searching the couch, she finally admitted defeat. “No.”

“Then I’m not telling you.” He took a swig of his Guinness.

Diana glared at him. “Who are you anyway?”

“Wayne.”

“Bruce Wayne or John Wayne?” The ridiculous words left her mouth before she could stop them.

“I alternate…Bruce on Mondays and Wednesdays and the Duke on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Friday’s are strictly me.”

Diana had to smile at his quick response. His long black hair hung down barely touching his shoulders. It looked thick and soft. The ridiculous green of his eyes caught her attention again. “What about the weekends?”

He stepped around the couch and set the beer down on the coffee table. Diana fought the urge to back away from him, but as he approached the scent of spearmint wrapped around her. Wayne crowded her space.

She tipped her head back to meet his gaze. Damn it, he had to be six foot at least. Diana licked her lips. “Today is Saturday. I’d like to know who I’m talking to.”

“Whoever you want me to be.”

Before she could form a coherent response, his lips crashed down on hers. Diana grabbed two fistfuls of his shirt to keep from falling backwards. His hand slid along her neck, cradling her neck as the other grasped her hip. Oh, holy night…what the hell am I doing kissing a perfect stranger in my apartment on Christmas Eve?

The taste of stout lingered on his tongue as he deepened the kiss. Diana’s heart raced as his fingertips played against her skin. Wayne nipped her lower lip and slid his hand beneath the lower edge of her sweater rubbing the bare skin above her waist. She gasped and slid her hands into his soft hair, pulling him closer, needing more.

Wayne pulled her toward him and they collapsed in a heap on the couch, a mess of tangled limbs and hot sensations. He grinned up at her. Oh God, she wanted to kiss him again. So she did. He rewarded her with a groan from deep in his throat as his hands covered her ass and squeezed. His eyes flew open when she moaned and arched against him.

“Wayne, what in the fucking hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice echoed from the doorway. “Get your hands off my sister!”

 

I hope you enjoyed being teased.   😉  What did you think of my snippet this week? Comments always welcome!

Happy Holidays everyone, have a safe and prosperous new year!

❤

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Wicked Entangled Blog Hop with GIVEAWAY and TEASER!

/ Jen Bradlee / 7 Comments

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Welcome to my playground, lovelies.

I’ve decided to post something wicked. A sexy snippet from a story I’ve been working on. I’ve also included some yummy eye candy I used as inspiration for one of the heroes of my tale.

A seductive tale of three brothers who carry a secret that binds them to the wicked queen.

A secret that makes them both predator and prey.

Allow me to tease you with a snippet from their story…

The trek back to the cottage proved slow and tedious in the dark. The moon was hidden by thick clouds. Scarlett readjusted the three rabbits slung over her shoulder. Snaring them had proven simple enough, but it kept her out later than she had intended.

Her thought strayed back to him. Nicholas, he said his name was. The thought of him, shirtless, chopping wood in the brisk fall air made her breathless. Scarlett never imagined herself to be prone to the typical female reactions when it came to men. She had been hunting with them since she was a girl. Handsome, ugly, old, young, it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered to her was killing wolves. The bastards had taken her grandmother from her, shredded her to bits while she gathered vegetables in the garden. She closed her eyes, willing the image of her mutilated grandmother from her mind.

Scarlett hunted them every day since. She mercilessly slew each one, lopping off their heads and turning their pelts into her bedding and clothing. They knew she hunted them and made her work for her revenge. The ones that remained were here, in these woods. She would find them.

A breeze kicked up the leaves, blowing them across her path. Scarlett glanced into the darkened forest. She was positive this was the right direction. The path was barely visible under her feet, but she pressed on, letting her internal compass guide her home. Rose and Bianca should be home and safe. Their lives disturbed by the death of their father. Now, they had new concerns to deal with. The brothers grim. The new trio had taken up at the market, selling their leather and steel goods. Bianca and Rose said they arrived not even a month before. Emmett was a quiet hulk of a man, grizzled with a shaggy beard, but his eyes held the softest light. She hadn’t met the merchant brother, Caleb. Bianca mentioned his golden good looks and quick charm. A hustler of sorts, trouble that one. Yet, the one that drew her was the brooding Nicholas.

The scent of wood smoke caught her attention. Home. Scarlett quickened her pace, the soft glow of light from a lantern appeared in the distance. She sighed. It was good to be home.

“You shouldn’t be out this late, alone,” a deep voice called from behind the trees to her right.

Scarlett slipped her hand to the hilt of her short sword. Her momentary distraction put her at a disadvantage.

“Who are you?” she asked, tightening her grip on the hilt.

The figure stepped from behind a tree.   Her eyes narrowed on him in the darkness. She couldn’t make out his features.

“You never know what lurks in the dark forest, Red. Have a care.”

That voice. It drifted over her like a soothing swig of ale. Dulling her senses, lulling her into a false sense of security. She shook her head.

“What do you want, Nicholas?” She kept her hand on the hilt, taking no chances. He came closer, stopping so close the heat from his body warmed her. She glanced up into his face. This close she could see his eyes. Even in the dark, they held a golden glow that was unnatural. A trick of the moonlight perhaps, but the moon was hidden.

“I was on my way home, when you crossed my path.” He bared his teeth in a wolfish grin. “You’d satisfy a very hungry wolf tonight, Red.” His hand covered hers, peeling it from her weapon. He brought her hand up and placed it on his chest.

Scarlett couldn’t speak, her heartbeat thundered in her ears. She stared into his eyes, bewitching in the darkness. “You have such bright eyes.”

“So I can see you better in the dark,” he replied, leaning closer. His breath mingled with hers, and the whole world ceased to exist when he slipped his hand across the curve of her hip and pulled her against him. The rabbits fell, forgotten, to the forest floor.

She wanted to push him away, stop him. His other hand found the small of her back and there ceased to be any space between them.

“Let me go,” Scarlett whispered. It was all the fight she had left. She wanted him, although she knew he was dangerous, knew he was a predator, preying on her deepest darkest desires. She wanted what he offered.

“Red,” his husky murmur shot lust straight to her core. When his lips claimed hers, it turned her steel resolve to molten metal. His kiss was punishing and demanding. She flung her arms around his neck. He lifted her off her feet and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He nipped at her lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. Scarlett whimpered, arching her hips against him. His hands gripped her backside as he plundered her mouth.

He tasted forbidden, of cloves and cinnamon, spices that go straight to one’s head. She snaked her fingers through his thick hair, holding on to him as if he was her only salvation. She snapped his head back, breaking the kiss and forcing him to look in her eyes. The golden glow was darker now. An amber storm churned in their depths. He lowered his gaze to her neck.

“Nicholas,” she sighed when his blazed a trail down the column of her throat with his tongue, tasting her. He reclaimed her lips, driving her desire into the clouds. His hands massaged her ass through the thin material of her trews. She wanted more. Wanted to feel him naked beneath her. What was she saying? Reason clawed at the back of her lust hazed mind.

“Red,” he growled against her mouth, pulling away. She looked at him. He searched her face and slowly lowered her feet to the ground. Scarlett wobbled a moment, wondering if he had read her mind. She only thought about stopping. It didn’t mean she wanted it to end. His hands held her steady, resting on her hips. She brushed her fingertips over the stubble shadowing his jaw.

“Go home, surely your cousins are worried by now.” He pulled his hands away, running them through his hair. He turned away with a frustrated grunt.

“Nick,” Scarlett called out. He paused but didn’t turn around. “I’m not scared of you.”

He turned, his amber eyes glowing like the harvest moon. “You should be.”

(This snippet/scene is the property of Jen Bradlee.)

Here is the man who inspired Nicholas.

Joe Manganiello.

Joe 3 Joe 2

 

What did you think of my wicked little teaser? Does it make you crave more?

 

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Tease Me Thursday

/ Jen Bradlee / Leave a comment

This week I’m sharing  a journal entry I wrote from a prompt. I’m not positive where it’s going yet, but I like the premise. Hope you enjoy!

***Warning: Swearing and unauthorized well, Wibbly-Wobbly stuff.***

A glimmer of recognition nagged at him. He pulled the hat from her head, and her red hair lit the wall, fanning around her face like a wildfire of curls. It was the most vivid shade of red he had ever seen, even in this dim lighting. Her eyes were wide with fury, but not a hint of fear. He patted her down, quickly checking for other weapons. Her curves were like heaven. Milo found himself in a completely unexpected but not wholly unwelcome situation. But they had other things to worry about at the moment.

He glanced at his watch. Shit, five minutes left. He was running out of time.

Releasing her arms, he stepped back. He scooped up her fallen gun.

“Can I have my gun back?” she asked as she reaffixed her hat.

“Not until we’re out of here,” he said as he calmly glanced in each case, making his way down the rows. He stuck the earpiece back in. “Sorry about that.” He glanced at the red-haired vixen.

“What the hell, kid?” the old man barked in his ear.

“I’ll tell you later,” Milo snapped. “Let’s just get this damned thing and get the hell out of here.”

The old man decided not to waste any time arguing.

“It’s a standard pocket watch with a lion engraved on the back, along with Well’s initials.”

Milo scanned the cases, fully aware of the presence behind him watching his every move. Locating the piece they were searching for, he carefully picked the lock and slipped his hand into the case.

“Be careful,” the woman warned him, her voice hushed but stern.

“It’s just a damned watch, relax. I got this,” he said, picking up the watch. The glint of gold in his black gloved hand made his heart skip a beat.

“Please, just put it in your pocket and let’s go,” she said softly, her breath on his ear. He didn’t hear her come up behind him.

He turned to look into her seductive green eyes. Lost for a moment, he shook his head.

“It’s only a damned watch,” he laughed, lifting it to look at the inscription to make sure it had the details on it. “This is it.” He pushed the latch to open the watch.

“Noooo,” Red yelled, grasping his arm.

A sudden burst of light emerged from the watch face, sucking them into the watch like a vacuum. Physics be damned, Milo and Red were devoured by the watch. He looked at the stunned, yet irate woman beside him. She glared at him as they tumbled down a vortex of spinning lights. Something had gone horribly wrong, and he had a feeling that damned woman knew exactly what just happened.

 

I hope you enjoyed this week’s teaser, sorry it’s late.

❤ Jen