Heart Throb (erotic romance)
Dr. Adam Roy has an agenda and it has nothing to do with sales of his latest book, The Sex Plan. For one very special patient, he’s determined to trigger a little fevered lust, a mild case of shivers, some weakness in the knees, and a mind-blowing, heart-pounding orgasm or two...or more. And he’ll do it all in the name of science...and love. More
Lara Woods, book reviewer for Detroit's largest newspaper, is known for her frank, if not brutal, reviews. That goes for books written by former lovers too, including Dr. Adam Roy, even though the glimmer of sin in his eyes makes her short of breath. As a professional she had no choice but to diss it.
Naturally, the hot doctor has his own agenda and it has nothing to do with book sales. He'll trigger a little fevered lust, a mild case of shivers, some weakness in the knees, and a mind-blowing, heart-pounding orgasm or two...or more. And he’ll do it all in the name of science...and love.
Previously published as SEXUAL HEALING
He pressed a fingertip to the underside of her chin. “You’re hiding.”
“Then why won’t you look at me.”
“I am.” She lifted her gaze to his chest. Now, that was something worth staring at! And it was a part of him. She wasn’t lying.
“My face. My eyes. Why won’t you look me in the eye?”
“Because you’re being so…intense.”
“Since when does intense intimidate you?”
That was it! Like it or not, she had to meet his gaze now. There was no letting him get away with that little jab. It wasn’t true. Intensity did not intimidate her. Not one little, tiny bit. No sirree. In fact, she was the personification of intensity. She lived her life embracing intensity. “It doesn’t.”
“Now that’s better.” He released her shoulders and straightened to his full—and quite droolworthy—six-foot-two-inch height and unzipped his pants.
Speaking of drool, she practically drowned in it, knowing exactly what was in store for her. It might have been fifteen years, but there was no forgetting a cock like his. Long, thick and rock-hard at a moment’s notice, it was the most glorious equipment she’d ever seen on a man.
He pushed his pants down to his hips.
Hot diggedy dog! Here we go.
He stopped. “Tell me your fantasy. Where would you be? What would you do?”
“I can’t. This is silly.”
Not looking pleased, he sighed and yanked his pants back up and a half-dozen expletives ran through her mind. “Close your eyes.”
“What fun is that?” she asked. “I won’t be able to see you with my eyes closed.”
“Maybe that’s a good thing.”
Her gaze canvassed what assets it could reach, shoulders, chest, arms. “Oh no, take my word for it, that’s not a good thing.”
Obviously pleased by her backhanded compliment, he smiled and pushed his pants back down. They hung low over his hips, giving her a nice view of the line of dark hair arrowing down the center of his abs. But his snug black briefs hid all the better parts from view.
Just a tiny swatch of black cotton lay between her eyes and his cock. Feeling herself smiling, she sighed.
That mild reaction was only the start. Other parts of her began rejoicing in their own delightful way, juices dripping, heart beating, palms sweating. It was a flurry of biological celebration. A sensation party.
“Tell me,” he repeated, leaning closer until she could feel his breath on her cheek, those delicious abs close enough to lick. She could imagine how they’d taste. He gripped a fistful of her hair at the back of her head and pulled, not too hard but not soft either. The tension tingled on her scalp and another blaze of heat shot straight to her pussy.
His free hand dropped to her breast and squeezed it and she heard the sharp intake of air as she gasped.
This was torture, plain and simple.