Sneak Peeks

Here you can get exclusive sneak peeks of E. Jamie's books to peruse at your lesiure before you buy them. You'll also find the answers to contest questions may sometimes be available in these excerpts to make it even easier for you to win great prizes!

(novella length)On the run from a murderous uncle, Katie Beaumont married outlaw Ben Cready the day before he was supposed to hang. They shared one night of explosive passion and for six months, she'd believed herself a widow. Now Ben is back to claim what's his, and that includes the sweet bride he'd never been able to forget.

"Open your eyes. I wanna watch your eyes change color like they did the first time I watched you come," Ben growled, moving up her body to kiss her again.

Katie opened her eyes in surprise. "Do they?" she panted.

"Oh yeah," Ben assured her, teasing her opening with the slightest pumping movement of just the first inch of his finger.

Katie whimpered wanting more.

"Like from cornflower blue to dark sapphire," He eased a second finger all the way into her and Katie sighed. "Fuck, I’ve missed this. Feeling the way you clutch me so tight, so hungry."

He pumped his fingers with increasing speed and Katie’s whimpers became more needy, more frequent until the delicious wave of release stormed through her and she was convulsing around his fingers. "Just like that, darlin’," he murmured slowing the movements of his fingers as the aftershocks popped under her skin. "Fuck, but you’re gonna kill me when I get inside of you again, Katie."

Katie blushed and stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the still hungry throb of her body at that mental image.

However instead of sliding into her like she thought he would now, Ben moved his way back down her body until his head was between her legs. She lifted her head curiously and watched, stunned as he nuzzled her mound and she felt the tiniest nudge of his tongue. A fresh wave of mortification swept through her as she realized what he was about to do. She brought her thighs together quickly. "No, you can’t!" she hissed.

He looked up at her. "What?"

"That…it’s…shameful. You…please don’t."

He cocked an eyebrow and rested his weight on one elbow as he watched her. "Honey, we’re married. Under God, remember?"

Katie swallowed. "Well, yes…but surely…married women, decent women don’t…Well, they’re husband’s certainly don’t…"

"Eat them?" Ben asked, his eyes flickering with amusement.

The flush in Katie’s cheeks deepened. "Is that what they call it?"

Ben nodded. "And you can bet your sweet petticoat that any married woman you see with a smile on her face gets eaten on a regular basis, sweetheart."

"Oh dear lord," Katie fell back against the mattress and threw her arm over her eyes, unable to believe they were discussing such matters.

She heard the sound of his soft laughter and felt his fingers on her thighs.

"You’ve been a decent wife to me thus far. Good meals. No headaches. Let me make you smile, Sweet Katie."

She grimaced uncertainly. "What if…I don’t like it?"

He laughed at loud at that.

She pushed at him with her thigh. "Don’t laugh at me. I’m quite serious!"

He pressed his lips together to stifle the giggles she could tell were still very much on the surface. "Tell you what. You don’t like what I’m gonna do. Come tomorrow, after dinner, I’ll wash the dishes."

She narrowed her eyes at the obvious confidence with which he insinuated that he would be doing no such thing.

He rolled his eyes. "Trust me, huh?"

Katie lay back uncertainly and braced herself for this new act. As soon as she felt his tongue probing the folds of her pussy again, the world as she knew it exploded.

It all started with a bet. Now Allie has to fulfill her partner Jimmy's every desire. Being Allie's partner on the force at the NYPD, Jimmy's greatest desire is for Allie to be his partner in life as well, and this by the book cop is not above getting down and dirty to convince her.

Allie thought Lucy had been dipping into Max's homemade wine when the young woman burst into the locker room and announced that there were a dozen half naked male cops going at it in an intense volleyball game match in the gym.

"Odds are on Jimmy's team taking it right now," she said, jumping up and down. "Come on."

Allie dropped her shoe. "Jimmy? As in Detective 'Tight Ass' Jimmy McCullough?" She hated the way his name came out a little more breathy than she'd intended.

"You can count every bunch of muscle." Lucy all but swooned. "It looks like a fucking all male strip show. Ain't you coming?" she asked when she noticed Allie was just standing there, biting her lip and holding one shoe.

This is a bad idea, Allie thought, following her friend out of the locker room. Jimmy in his uniform was too unnerving for her. Jimmy in his tank top and shorts was sinful. Half-naked Jimmy was a fucking visual orgasm. This was a very bad idea. Maybe she could picture Sergeant Collins's head on his body instead while she watched him. Ew. Okay, yeah. That would work.

Allie straightened her shoulders and entered the gym after Lucy. Fucking shit! There were a handful of the male half of the NYPD District 14 in shorts, sneakers and nothing else. Max's team consisted of the police officers beneath him and Jimmy's team were the detectives. Allie's gaze flitted back and forth as she watched them. They were flushed and sweaty, running to keep the white ball in the air.

She noticed that her fellow female officers were whistling off to the side and making lewd comments while the men battled it out. Jimmy got ready to accept the ball on his side then she saw his eyes fall on her once he realized she'd entered the room. The ball smacked him in the back of the head.

"Man!" Karl protested the missed shot. Then he followed the focus of Jimmy's gaze and clapped his hands together. "Oh! The legendary Detective Allie Harris has decided to grace us with her presence."

"Thought I'd give you poor shmucks some incentive." Allie winked at Karl, all the while feeling the heat of Jimmy's gaze on her.

"Don't put up an offer like that, Harris, unless ya mean it," Mickey piped in, laughing.

"Awww, Mickey, are ya a-scared?" she taunted. "If you guys lose, I get to pick your punishment."

"And if we win? You're on the winning team's paperwork duty for a week," Max announced.

"No, whoever makes the match point gets to decide the reward," Jimmy countered, his eyes never leaving Allie's.

Sheeit, the guy had a way of looking at her that made her feel like he'd just taken her on the floor and fucked her hard and fast before his next blink.

She forced herself to bring her thoughts back on a safer track and tore her gaze away, focusing on Karl.

"All right, back to work gentlemen! We wanna see some panting and sweating!" Sheri shouted from the sidelines.

"Been a while, huh, Sheri?" Max asked, brown eyes light with teasing.

"Fuck you," Sheri tossed back.

"Six of one, half a dozen of the other," Max said, making a kissy face at her.

"Okay, foreplay over, you two. Back into positions, gentlemen. Max, I believe it was your point," Allie said, moving next to Lucy on the mat against the wall. Marie stood at the board marking off the score. Hmm, it looked like the detectives were in the lead, Allie noticed. Her stomach tightened with a strange sort of anticipation. She didn't want them to win of course. That would be silly. Though she was curious as to what reward Jimmy had in mind if the match point was his, which watching him was not far out of the realm of possibility. She stifled a snort. Probably would be something mundane exactly like making her do his paperwork for a week.

The game lasted another twenty minutes. Twenty of the hottest, sweatiest, most breathless minutes without actual touching she had ever been privy to. The room was bathed in the scent of male sweat and damn if it wasn't making Allie wet as all get out.

It'd been a while since she'd had a good fuck. That was all, she decided, watching Jimmy running back and forth, bending to receive the ball, his shorts caressing the curves of his buttocks. Too damn long, she thought, her mouth dry. She watched the beads of sweat sliding from his forehead down his neck onto his chest. His skin was red with exertion. They all were. Heck even the women were growing quiet, watching the glistening men, except for the slight panting of breathlessness coming from the few female spectators. Allie closed her thighs tightly to try and stop the throbbing that had started there when he ran the back of his hand across his damp forehead.

The next shot sailed over to his team. He balled his fist up in the air and Allie could swear his eyes moved to her for a split second before he connected with the ball and spiked it down over to Max's side. It landed a few inches from one of Max's outstretched hands. So close. But not close enough. Shouts of victory went up on Jimmy's team. And the women joined in with cheers and whistles when his fellow detectives pumped their fists in the air and slammed into each other in triumph. Karl and Jack lifted Jimmy up on one of each of their shoulders. He met Allie's gaze and while his smile held, his blue eyes seemed more intense than she'd ever seen them. She shivered beneath his gaze.

"All right, Detective. What ungodly drudgery are you gonna make me perform?" she asked, forcing herself to her feet and stiffening her weak knees. The flush of his skin made his eyes look almost inhumanely blue. Fuck. God knew what he was doing when he made Jimmy McCullough. She watched the beads of sweat make their way along the flushed column of his neck, down into the hairs of his chest. Allie was almost certain if she were to press her tongue to the glistening stretch of skin over his collarbone, she'd hear a hiss and smoke would rise. When Karl tossed him a towel, Allie wanted to kill Karl just a little bit. Jimmy smiled at her, and, no lie, she grew wet between her legs. Lord, Harris! Get a grip!

"See, now that's something that requires much consideration from an over-thinker like myself," he said with a wink at her. He leaned in meaningfully. "I'll let you know."

"Oooh, Detective, you taking suggestions?" Karl asked as they headed out of the room.

"Oh! Thank you, ladies for being such an ... uh ... enthusiastic audience," Jimmy said with a laugh. "Hope you enjoyed the game."

"There was a game?" Lucy asked with a giggle while the female occupants of the exercise room all tilted their heads to watch the various tight posteriors exiting the room. "So what do you think he's gonna make you do, Allie?" she asked leaning gently on the fabric of the volleyball net.

"Probably gonna make me rearrange his sock drawer according to function. 'These are my uniform socks, these are my athletic socks, these are my dress socks and never shall they mix!'" she teased, mimicking Jimmy's clipped tone.

"Or make you his lust slave for a week ... God, why couldn't I have thought of the bet first!" Lucy said with an exaggerated shiver that Allie was hard pressed not to emulate. Then she shook her head in amusement.

"Trust me, Jimmy is about as likely to make anyone a lust slave as Sergeant Collins and I are to sit and paint each other's toenails," Allie said, making the women dissolve into laughter while they split up and headed to the showers.

Laura and Caleb were teenage sweethearts. Then Laura disappeared, leaving nothing behind but a simple note.

Now she’s back, a street smart cop on the trail of an underground child sex slave operation right in the heart of New York City and she’s been sent to Caleb’s division to help bring down one of the most reprehensible men in the country. When the old lovers are partnered up, can they put their old hurts aside to do their jobs and save the children?

Could the actions of a few brave souls have saved us all? Emily, Laura, Brian and Nick are brought together in 1999 by a series of supernatural phenomena. Then they learn that, in 1917, three children in the Portuguese town of Fatima prophesied that, at the end of the millennium, four people would have to face Satan in an apocalyptic battle. At a time when many people are questioning religion and its place in the world, Four Winds of Heaven offers a new slant on what we believe we know about good and evil and our abilities to face both within ourselves.

“Jesus, Brian, do you still need more proof?” she asked, her eyes pleading. “The four of us are connected. You've got to see that.”

He hesitated. Clearing his throat, he spoke reluctantly “Okay, so we‘ve all got some kind of mental connection thing going on. That doesn‘t mean we’re at the heart of some little kiddies’ fantasies from over half a century ago,” Brian said, pointedly looking over her head at Father Kelly. “Ya gotta give me more than that.”

“What if I can get one of the visionaries to identify you personally?” Michael countered.

“How much time do we have?” Laura asked.

“Well, the battle is said to take place at the end of this millennium. Dec 31. Midnight,” Michael replied.

“Of course,” Emily grimaced. End of the century, end of the world, she thought glumly.

“That only leaves us with a little over a month,” Nick pointed out.

“If Lucy can’t identify the four of you as the four she saw back in 1917, then at least you’ll get a free trip to Portugal, Brian. What do ya say?” Michael asked.

“Portugal? We have to go to Portugal?” he asked with a scowl.

Nick immediately picked up on the cause of his irritation. The trial. If they had to leave for Portugal, then Brian would have to ask the judge to postpone the trial. He had to admit the idea was a relief to him.

“Of course. The Vatican officials meeting with us in Coimbra, where Lucy’s convent is, have to meet with you before they can sanction any action on behalf of the church,” Michael explained.

“Jesus Fucking Christ!” Brian swore.

“Well put, Brian,” Laura agreed.

“I believe that the four of you are the chosen ones, but my opinion doesn't mean squat. The Vatican has final say on the authenticity of the four of you. I have to take you to them,” Michael explained.

“What if they don't believe we're the ones?” Brian asked.

Nick snorted. The guy sounded so blatantly hopeful he was surprised that a bolt of lightning didn’t shoot through the hospital ceiling.

“We've still got Lucy, although ultimately it's still the Vatican that has final say,” Michael explained.

“She's still alive?” he asked, surprised.

“She's very old, but she's still in charge of all her faculties,” Michael assured them.

“How's her eyesight?” Brian asked, dryly.

“Will we get to meet her?” Emily asked after shooting him a glare.

Forget lightning, Nick thought wryly.

“If the Vatican allows it.”

“What does that mean?” Laura asked.

“She's sort of a national treasure they keep highly guarded.”

“Wonderful,” Emily said sarcastically.

“She's happy with her life, but she can't make a move without Vatican approval. Even if she wanted to go public with the third secret now, she couldn't if the Pope refused.”

“How typical,” Laura sneered.

“We leave for Portugal at the end of the week,” Michael informed them.

“Who's paying for our little final exam?” Brian asked.

“The Vatican.”

“Can I get an ‘Amen’!” Brian joked with a resigned shrug.

Claire Lauder was the girl next door who fell in love with the boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Now these ex-lovers find themselves on opposite sides of the law, but Claire soon learns that all is not as it seems. Ryan Wyatt is a man with a dark past who is given a second chance. The price? Betray the man and the organization that took him in when he had nothing. but will forgiveness be harder to earn from the woman he has never stopped loving?

He touched her, just on the arm, but it was enough to send a shiver through her entire body, and she was unable to resist the urge to turn in toward him.

“I need…” He choked. “I need you…to understand.” He cleared his throat.

Claire squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to keep her hands tight at her sides so she wouldn’t reach up and touch him, wrap her arms around him, and plead with him to make her understand, make it okay to have these feelings flaring up inside of her for him again. She tried for a light, mocking laugh, but it came out strained to her own ears. “What difference does it make if I understand? Kyle is still dead because of you.”

“I know,” he admitted, his voice thick with self-hatred, and she warned herself not to be moved by his words. “But I need you to know that if I had any idea Kyle was going to be there… It matters to me that you understand I would never have let anything happen to Kyle if—”

“Why?” Claire asked, her eyes filling with tears. “Why the hell does it matter?”

“Because,” he whispered, gripping her arms, pressing his forehead to hers, his ragged breath hot against her face. “I can’t bear it that you hate me. I can’t bear it anymore, Claire.”

With a groan he closed his mouth over hers, and Claire felt every nerve ending in her body explode under the sensual assault.

* * * *

Ryan felt as if he was drowning and Claire was his only source of air. He breathed deeply, sliding his hands in her soft hair, encouraged when he felt the response of her tongue meeting his. She whimpered in the back of her throat, and Ryan cupped her skull, fearing she would get skittish and pull back. He moved her backwards against a wall, cupping her back so the rounded stones didn’t hurt her. Her arms moved to his shoulders and pulled him closer. This was crazy, insane, but dear God he never wanted to stop. He’d been without her for too long, and she felt just as desperate in his arms for him as he was for her. Ryan hoped he was right because he didn’t feel as if he could stop kissing her, touching her. He didn’t want to think of the risk, the danger of giving in to this woman. He pushed all the warning voices away and simply gave in to the lust burning a path through his body to settle, hard and throbbing, in his cock.

Ryan felt Claire groan and press her hips against his erection in unmistakable invitation. The scent of the ocean mingled with her own female scent, and Ryan thought he would die if he didn’t sate himself in her right now.

He lifted the soft fabric of her dress up past her thighs and prayed she didn’t stop him.

She whimpered. A protest? A plea to continue? Ryan felt her hands slide down his shirt to the leather belt around his waist and tug impatiently. He broke the kiss briefly only to meet her gaze before his eyes drifted down and he held his breath with what felt like inhuman patience as she stopped.

“What would you have done?” Claire whispered, her voice desperate for something, some answer that made what they were about to do okay and not a betrayal of her brother’s memory.

He shook, his hands in her hair before he moved them down to the sides of her face. “It was an unspoken thing, but he knew what I was. I didn’t go after him. He didn’t go after me. If I knew…I could have given a false tip, sent him somewhere else. I never wanted… Claire, I swear…” His voice broke, and her eyes softened and filled with tears.

She kissed him again, and Ryan was swept up in the sweetness that tinged their lust now. She pulled the leather free of its loop and then worked on the button. He swelled harder knowing she wanted this as much as he did. Nothing else mattered more in that second.

Madeline Delaney has suffered a terrible loss. She's returned to her home town with her daughter to spend Christmas with Madeline's grandmother. Next door is Jack DeLuna, an adolescent crush that seems to be rekindling into a very adult passion. Still reeling from the death of her husband, will Madeline have the courage to let Jack into her heart, or will guilt and the fear of loving someone again keep her from the future Jack has waited years to give her?

“Maddie?” Dark eyebrows came together and then cleared in shock as recognition dawned.

He was tall and his jeans clung to his thighs comfortably. She wondered if his frame was as broad and muscled as she remembered from the last time she’d seen him. Jack DeLuna. Good lord.

“Hi,” she replied, feeling a ridiculous girlish shiver that reminded her of the teenager she had been with her first serious crush on the handsome Mexican boy. She shook her head, telling herself she was shivering because of the cold.

He put the shovel down and walked over to her, a wide smile on his face. “I heard you were coming back to town. It’s good to see you.”

“Thanks. We’re here for the holidays. Afterwards…well,” she shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

His eyes softened with sympathy, his dark hair stuck in unruly curls on his damp forehead. “I heard about your husband. I am so sorry.”

Madeline bit her lip, a little ashamed of the reminder of her loss when for just a second, it’d felt so good to forget. “Thanks.”

“You said ‘we’? Your little girl is inside?”

“Katie yes. Gran is probably allowing her to gorge herself on chocolate chip cookies so I’d better get back inside before she puts my child into a diabetic coma.”

That made him laugh.

In school, she would have given anything to have made him laugh. God, would she ever be that carefree again?

“Why good morning, Jack!” Meggie exclaimed coming out onto the porch.

“Morning, Meggie. I was just catching up with Maddie. It’s so nice to have her back. I was about to offer to help her bring her luggage inside and maybe steal a cookie?”

“Of course. Come on in. What a gentleman. Isn’t that right, Madeline, dear?” Meggie asked.

Madeline looked at her grandmother curiously. Surely the old woman wasn’t matchmaking, was she? She glared at her and followed Jack back to the car.

“Thanks for your help, but you really didn’t have to do this.” She pulled one suitcase from the back of the silver BMW.

“Yeah I did. I really want that cookie,” he replied with a smile and this time she laughed while he grabbed one bag and pulled its strap over a shoulder and carried two more in his hands.

She felt a moment of surprise, realizing it was the first time she had genuinely laughed since Max’s death. Guilt clenched like a tight fist in her belly and she looked away and locked the doors.

She followed him into the house where Katie greeted them, her mouth circled with chocolate and cookie crumbs.

“Hi. Where you come from?” the little girl asked, surprised to see the man coming in ahead of Madeline.

“This is a very good friend and my next door neighbour, Jack DeLuna. He’s a teacher,” Meggie said as she came towards Jack with a plate of still warm cookies. He snatched one eagerly and she beamed when he made the appropriate noises of appreciation.

“Really?” Katie asked, her blue eyes lighting up. “I go kindygarten next year. You gonna be my teacher?”

“Afraid not, sweetheart. My students are a bit older than you,” Jack tapped her nose playfully.

“Jack teaches sixth grade,” Meggie explained.

Madeline tried not to show her surprise, not wanting to seem rude. Jack DeLuna had never seemed all that interested in school as a youngster. “That’s great,” she admitted. Beyond her own career as a script writer, she couldn’t imagine a more fun, fulfilling career than teaching.

Her grandmother had floor to ceiling shelves filled with books and Madeline had grown up with a love of reading that had followed her throughout her whole life.

“He won teacher of the year this past May.” Meggie beamed, wrapping an arm around Jack’s shoulders and Madeline watched the grown man blush at the pride in her grandmother’s voice.

“Oh my,” Madeline remarked, unable to hide her own admiration.

He smiled shyly at her. “Well, I’ve only been there two years so they could still find out I use to pronounce it ‘supposably’ and fire my a—” he looked quickly at Katie and caught himself. “—behind,”

Katie laughed. “I bet you were gonna say ass.”

He cringed and gave Madeline an apologetic smile. “That’s my cue to leave, I guess. Gotta go finish shovelling that drive just so it can get dumped on again tonight. Ah the joys of Massachusetts,” he added, getting up from where he sat on a stool at the kitchen island.

“I’m making roast chicken for dinner tonight to celebrate Madeline’s return. If you think you can manage my drive as well, you can come join us.”

Madeline stared at her grandmother and gritted her teeth. What was the woman thinking?

“Sounds like an even trade to me, but I don’t want to impose,” he said and Madeline could feel his eyes on her as she looked down into her mug of hot chocolate. A marshmallow bumped her nose.

She forced herself to take a sip to gather herself for a moment and looked up. “Of course not. I really appreciate you helping my grandmother out since she’s been injured.”

“Oh, that,” he gave a short chuckle. “She’s one of my most enthusiastic students. I try and get her to slow down, but you know your grandmother.”

“One of your students?” Madeline asked curiously.

“I teach salsa on Saturday nights. Oh, you should come by. It’s a lot of fun.”

Visions of the movie Dirty Dancing filled her head and Madeline focused back on her drink. “I’m not much of a dancer,” she admitted.

“Honey, believe me. Jack is an excellent teacher. The man moves like a dream,” Meggie insisted with a wink.

Jack rolled his eyes and shook his head. “Okay, now that is my cue to leave.” He grabbed one more cookie. He touched Katie’s shoulder. “Very nice meeting you, Katie.”

“You too, Jack!” the little girl replied beaming at the attention.

“Madeline, if it’s all right with you, I’ll be here for dinner?”

“Oh, of course,” she replied, though inside she was an uneasy mess.

He smiled and left them. She waited until she heard the door close before getting up from her stool and whirling on her grandmother. “Okay, what on earth was that?”

It's 1943; Cassie Atherton's fiancé Phillip Davis is fighting in the war, and she is doing her part as an American nurse in England. When nursing a seriously injured English captain named Edward James Harrison, Cassie suddenly finds herself truly in love for the very first time. Instantly drawn to each other, Cassie tries to resist James's shameless flirting but the two of them grow close during his convalescence. They know their futures lie elsewhere but neither expect their parting to come when the unexpected death of her father calls Cassie back home. James returns to active duty and ends up on a mission with Phillip in Japan, where both men are captured. Their joint suffering in the POW camp under Lieutenant Dai bonds them as the best of friends. They manage to escape, and Phillip brings James with him when he returns to Boston and Cassie, not being aware that the two already know each other. Torn between friendship and love, honor and passion, against a backdrop of violence and historical upheaval, Cassie and James try to fight a love that refuses to be denied.

That night, he stayed awake for hours, long after he knew everyone else was asleep. He just stared up at the ceiling; hating himself for not doing a good enough job of slicing Cassandra out of his heart. Now, everyone would know he was a traitorous son of a bitch.

He couldn't sleep. James finally got up out of bed and put his clothes back on. Maybe he'd go for a walk outside. No. A drive. That would do a better job of relaxing him enough to sleep. At least, he hoped so.

He didn't plan to go to the hospital, but that was where he found himself. The staff nodded at him and told him Cassandra was asleep, but he could go in and sit with her if he wanted. Oh, how he wanted.

The room was dark, with just the moonlight from the window to illuminate her pale face and golden hair. She looked like an injured angel with the gauze-wrapped bandage on her forehead. He tried to be as quiet as he could, moving the chair closer to her bed as she slept.

Their places were reversed now, he thought wryly. How many times had she sat just like this at his bedside, taking care of him, willing him to live with such strength and determination that she had pulled him from the very brink of death by pouring her own blood into him.

Was that what did it, he wondered. Was that what caused the devastating love he had for her? What did he have to do to make it stop? There had to be some way to cut out the feeling he had for her if he was to have any kind of peace for the rest of his life with Nicole. Nicole. Not Cassandra. Never Cassandra. James lowered his head, and the tears came despite his furious attempt to stop them by digging his fists against his eyes.

"James?" The softest, sleepy whisper.

James lifted his head and sniffled, blinking back his tears.

"What . . . doing here?" she asked, groggy.

"I couldn't sleep," he explained weakly.

She closed her eyes and sighed. "Go away."

The words were like a punch to his stomach.

"Cassandra," he pleaded hoarsely.

"No. You said . . . you said . . . ."

He watched a tear roll down her cheek, and he shook his head.

"Don't you understand?" he asked, reaching up and brushing it away. "It's killing me, loving you. It is ripping me apart inside."

Cassandra sniffled and gave a bitter laugh. "So then what are you even doing here? If you're so sorry you ever met me, why don't you just stay away?"

"Because I can't. I almost lost you today, darling. Please don't push me away. Not tonight. I can't bear it tonight." He moved from his chair and sat on the edge of her bed, drawing her into his arms. He felt encouraged when she didn't push him away. He kissed the crown of her head and moved down to her forehead.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she asked, clutching his shirt. "Why do you keep doing this to me?"

His mouth moved over her skin, inhaling her scent as if he were drowning and couldn't breathe without her. "Because I can't stop," he whispered. "Because I can't stop loving you," he admitted before finally closing his mouth over hers.

* * * * *

Cassie wanted to punch him, to strike out and wound him for not letting her go, yet being able to turn away from her so easily. On and off, back and forth, and yet she yielded. Her lips went soft beneath his and opened, feeling the slide of his tongue meet hers in hot, wet invitation. There was no thought now but don'tstopdon'tstopdon'tstop. Her hands moved up his arms to his shoulder.

He hissed and pulled back, and she looked at him in question. Cassie undid the first few buttons of his shirt to get a better look at the white sling around his shoulder. He'd been injured. Saving her. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, and she lowered her head to kiss the area. Cassie heard him take a deep breath and felt his fingers slide into her hair.

"I'm so sorry," James whispered.

"Hmm?" Cassie asked, closing her eyes and leaning her head against his chest, being careful to not hurt his shoulder.

"You could have died today," he said.

She felt a shudder go through him. His arms tightened around her. She looked up at him. "But I've never felt more alive." Cassie guided his mouth back to hers and just let herself enjoy kissing him, wanting to burrow closer to him. Her hands went carefully to his back. She pulled him closer, so his chest pressed against her breasts. They tightened in response to the delicious feeling of the warmth of his body.

His hands slipped under the blankets, and Cassie moaned when he touched the bare skin of her thigh, sliding his fingers higher . . . higher.

Her heart rate doubled, and her body grew heavy, languid as his mouth moved to her neck, her collarbone, sliding over to ease down the fabric of her hospital gown. He kissed her shoulder.

When James' hand reached her inner thigh, Cassie sighed and opened to him, wanting his touch there in her most intimate place more than she wanted her next breath. The easy gesture seemed to jar him out of whatever haze had gripped them both, and he pulled away. "Jesus Christ."

She shivered and closed her eyes against the recriminations she knew were coming. He surprised her by simply straightening her clothes and blanket and kissing her forehead. Her eyes opened, confused.

"It's all right, darling. I'd better go now, before . . . well . . . before," he said, his voice thick.

"James," Cassie pleaded, trembling.

He stopped on his way to the door, giving her a sad smile. "I wish I didn't have to leave. But we both know I do."

She nodded slowly.

He stood looking at her, and then quickly walked back to her and grabbed her for one last kiss before pulling away again. "I love you so much," he groaned.

And then he was gone.

Elsa Mostek is a young Jewish woman who is forced to move with her family from the Warsaw Ghetto in Poland to the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1943. She immediately draws the attention of Nazi Officer Friedrich Weiss who inexplicably shows favor towards her and helps her escape harm many times thanks to the power he wields in the camp. Aware that many of her fellow female prisoners are bartering their bodies for survival and in desperation to save her starving family, Elsa makes an offer to Friedrich. What Elsa does not know is that Friedrich is a spy with the German Resistance that has infiltrated the Nazi regime. He must keep up the pretense of loyalty to Hitler's cause as he sends secrets to those on the outside. Friedrich doesn't want to take advantage of Elsa but can't help wanting her. As the misery of his position increases, she offers him the only light left in a world of darkness and despite his best intentions, Friedrich gives in to her offer. Passion explodes between them, giving them a reprieve from the monstrous world they inhabit, though both know it can never last.

He had been good to her.

In that was her certainty. She had made a promise to him and then broke it after everything he had done for her, at great risk to himself probably. She told herself he was different. It was that certainty that helped her get back on her feet and open the bedroom to go find Friedrich.

She found him on the back porch, smoking. Elsa braced herself to be bold and she put a hand on his shoulder, feeling him go stiff beneath her fingers. “Please come back inside. I…I want to try again.”

“Yeah? Well I don’t. What I do want is a woman who doesn’t endure my touch but craves it. I already have one Anna. I don’t need a carbon copy.”

Elsa blinked in surprise at that information. Anna was free to be intimate with him and she…didn’t want to? She couldn’t imagine such a thing. She had no frame of reference but when Friedrich touched her, it felt good. Mind-numbingly good. “I do,” she admitted.

He snorted. “Right. Because you fear if you don’t I’ll toss you in the gas chamber. Sorry, sweetheart. Sacrifice is not a turn on.”

She forced herself to move closer to him and place her hands on his back. She placed her mouth on the white fabric of his linen shirt, open in the front. “Please understand. Please. I’m so afraid not just of what could happen to me if you don’t want me anymore but of what it means that I do want your touch. I do crave it and that goes against everything I am supposed to feel and believe.” She could feel him tremble against her mouth and felt encouraged. “Look at who you are. Who I am. What does it mean that once you told me to do that thing with my mouth that after I thought about it, I wanted to do it? Do you hear me? Before you stopped me, I wanted to do that, to take you in my mouth and taste you.”

“No, you’re only saying that…” Friedrich insisted, his voice thick and choked.

She braced herself and boldly brought her hand in front of him and down, slipping inside his trousers to find him hard and straining against her palm.

“Elsa…” he groaned.

“I’m sorry I ruined my promise. I won’t do it again. I swear. I want you to show me more. I want it just be you and me here. You’ve been good to me. Kind.”

“Tell me you believe me. That I would never ever treat you as Hoess said.”

She swallowed hard, uncertain, wanting with all her heart to believe that. “You don’t want me to lie. Can I say that I will try? I face such horrors here, Friedrich, perpetrated by your people. Can you blame me for being afraid when I’m faced with the enemy being kind to me?”

He sighed then. “No. I suppose not. I will prove it to you, Elsa. I will prove to you that you never have to fear anything from me.”

Elsa walked in front of him then. “Can I try again? I want to try what you wanted me to do.”

“I was furious at you. I shouldn’t have made you…”

She pressed her fingers to his lips. “I want to.”

His eyes flared hungrily then and he grabbed her and pulled her with him back into the house, slamming the back door shut and locking it before picking her up and kissing her hard, carrying her into the living room.

Elsa shivered now. Not with fear, but anticipation.

He carried her toward the stairs, careful as he brought her up with him. His hands cupped her back, pulling her close so that her breasts were crushed against the hard warm wall of his chest.

Friedrich eased her down on the bed and Elsa moved up and reached for his pants again. He stilled her hands. “Really, you don’t have to do…”

“I want to,” Elsa repeated and shivered at the knowledge that it was true. She looked up at him and grew wet at the heat of his gaze. “You did it to me. I want to try…but, you’ll tell me if I do something wrong?”

Friedrich nodded silently.

She took him in her hand again. He was thick and hard now and she circled him with her fingers, marvelling still at how perfectly he had fit in her body. He instructed her on how to squeeze him, not too hard, and how to stroke him, up and down and Elsa watched his cock grow thicker. She listened to the sounds he was making and understood how her sounds affected him so because every groan was like a touch, a thrust, primal and demanding deep inside of her. She licked her lips and pressed them to the head. Not like kissing his lips, but then she hadn’t expected it to be. The head was slick, cut and Elsa licked it then gauged Friedrich’s reaction. She felt relief mixed in with pleasure to know that she was pleasing him. “Should I suck the head…like a candy?”

“Mmmm,” Friedrich nodded and the corners of Elsa's mouth lifted at his eagerness.

She took about an inch into her mouth and sucked gently.

He whimpered and his hand went to her hair. “God…Good God…”

She tried to remember how he had moved his tongue over her, and though the anatomy difference demanded a change in basic technique, she could lick around the head, over the crown with the same pressing, sweeping motions. When she felt confident enough, Elsa took more of him into her mouth and moved her fingers to the sac at the base of his cock. The skin was tight now, full of his impending release and Elsa squeezed the sac gently.

“Oh fuck…enough…I can’t…” he urged, pulling her back away from his cock.

Elsa blinked and swallowed nervously. “Did I do something wrong?” She looked back at his cock. It was ram rod straight and thick.

He gave a choked laugh. “No. No. I was just too close. God, hurry. Get on the bed.”

Elsa quickly followed his lead, her blood racing through her veins, knowing what was coming now. She undressed as he got the condom out of his drawer. “Can I put it on?”

Friedrich closed his eyes. “God, no. Then I’ll really embarrass myself.” After he’d sufficiently protected himself, he took a moment to stare at her. “What you do to me,” he remarked, shaking his head.

Naked, Elsa lay down and lifted her hands to him, wanting the warmth of his body covering hers.

His eyes softened for a moment, looking down at her then they were hungry again. He enveloped her in his arms and Elsa wiggled against the heat of his body, giving a little gasp as her nipples moved against the dark hairs on his chest. His body was long and muscled and she felt dwarfed by him. Elsa could feel the thick erection against her abdomen and she urged her body upwards, seeking it out with that part of her that wanted him most. Friedrich’s mouth was on her cheek, on her nose, and his hands moved to cup her breasts. He rocked his hips slowly so that the length of his cock found her center and just rubbed against it, stroking her folds.

“Oh please…please…” she urged. With trembling fingers she made her way down his back, digging her nails in.

He kissed her mouth, sucking on her lips before driving between them with his tongue, sending Elsa’s mind spinning. He took her legs in his hands and wrapped them around his waist. Elsa gasped into his mouth, eager and writhing as she rubbed against him.

Finally, he eased into her and she gave a long drawn out moan at the blissful perfection of him deep inside of her once again. There was no pain anymore. Just a wonderful stretched fullness. Then he began to move, deep and hard and Elsa stopped breathing as the friction drove her higher and higher. “Oh…Oh! Oh Friedrich!” she cried, burying her face in his neck as the sensations raced through her with growing intensity. She wrapped her arms around him once she finally found the rhythm he'd set and moved with him, wishing there was something more she could do. She slid her mouth to his ear and took the earlobe into her mouth and bit every so gently. Friedrich groaned and thrust harder so Elsa did it again before moving her mouth to his neck which was flushed. He tried to stroke her where they were joined but his position must have made it difficult because Elsa then felt him cup her behind and pull her up as he thrust down again and again.

Elsa arched her neck and cried out as he seemed even thicker inside of her now, the friction now hot and that much deeper. She could feel herself begin to come soon.

Friedrich pulled back and looked down at her, a smug smile on his flushed face. His dark eyes glittering with passion. “Are you going to come, my dear?”

Elsa whimpered and bucked her hips as he slowed his thrusts. “Please…more…”

He leaned down and took a nipple into his mouth, sucking gently as he maintained his slow pace.

“Friedrich….Please…” she begged. She was hovering there. So close that she was trembling with the need for it.

“Does my Elsa want me to let her come?”

My Elsa. His. His to use anyway he pleased, as often as he please.

“Yes!” Elsa cried in acceptance of the possession.

He thrust deep once, with a rough, hard grunt and then stilled again.

“Does my Elsa want me to let her come?”

She understood now what the game was and felt bold as she lifted herself on her elbows and kissed him. “Oh yes. Your Elsa wants you to let her come.”

His eyes flared with hunger and Elsa fell back against the mattress and kept her eyes locked on him and it was that look in his eyes that had her coming harder than she had the other times before he even started moving again. His fingers were hard against her thighs and she briefly imagined seeing the imprint there later then could think nothing more as he resumed thrusting hard and fast, driving into her again and again.

She reached down and grabbed his hips, digging her fingers into the quick moving bones, feeling the tension in them as he pumped into her, riding her through her release so that she was already on the precipice of a second when he gave a last cry and reached his orgasm shortly after.

She was damp and trembling beneath him, feeling his slick, panting body above hers. She closed her eyes, determined to stay in the game, her body tight with desire for another release. She bit his ear lightly again and hoped she sounded sensual when she purred in his ear. “I want more.”

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