Pleasure With Purpose Read online

  “I’m scared,” Brenda said, and Brad had no doubt who she was talking to "Doctor Dan" as Heather called him. Brenda and Dan had been as inseparable as he and Heather had been since Rebecca’s wedding. “What if something happened to her? Maybe we should call the police?”

  Heather’s eyes went wide and she pushed Brad away from her, waving for him to stay inside. She shoved open the door. “I’m here! Sorry. I was trying on a few things. Hi Dan. What are you two up to tonight?”

  Brad leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, trying not to laugh. He knew his sister. Brenda was going to figure out someone was in the dressing room.

  And all too quickly, he heard, “I should ask you the same thing,” Brenda commented. “Considering the lipstick smudged all over your chin." She laughed. “Oh do please bring out the hot man from the dressing room, and let us meet him.”

  “There’s no man in the dressing room.”

  “Liar,” Brenda said, and Brad had already straightened in anticipation, when Heather yelled, “Brenda, no!”

  The door pushed open, and Brenda appeared, bringing him into view. “Bradley!” A second of shock turned to more laughter. “I was right, Dan! It’s Bradley!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him out into the room where he found Dan–a tall blond male in his thirties leaning against the wall, looking amused—and Heather, looking like she wanted to disappear into the ground.

  Brenda swung a finger between them. “I knew the minute I saw the lipstick on his shirt at the wedding.” She called over her shoulder to Dan. “Didn’t I, baby?”

  “She did say that,” Dan agreed. “Many times. So thank you for finally ending the speculation.”

  “I wondered when you two would finally end your suffering and just get busy together.”

  “What?” Heather gasped, and Brad had to admit he was a little surprised by the statement. “You thought--”

  She waved a hand. “Oh please. You two have been simmering since we all hit puberty.” Then she frowned and put her hands on her hips. “Why haven’t I been told? It’s been two months since the wedding.”

  Brad arched a brow at Heather, silently asking her if she wanted to answer, or have him.

  “It was my fault,” Heather said. “If things didn’t work out, I didn’t want you to be mad or upset. I didn’t want to risk our friendship.”

  Brenda looked surprised and then understanding slid over her face, her eyes touching Brad’s. Heather had been afraid of losing the people she considered family.

  Brenda hugged Heather, and Brad heard her whisper, “You can't lose me, sweety. We’re like blood–forever sisters.” She leaned back and held out her hand, and what appeared to be a ring. “Look! I’m getting married.”

  A whirlwind followed of conversation and questions. Brad had known about the ring, because Dan had actually called to ask his approval. It was a surprise–a good one. He liked Dan.

  “Of course,” Brad said jokingly, shaking Dan's hand. “You hurt my sister, and I’ll hurt you.”

  “I’d expect nothing less,” Dan assured him.

  Brenda punched him in the shoulder and then wrapped an arm around Heather. “You hurt my sister, and I’ll hurt you.”

  Brenda and Dan joined them for dinner, throwing a little kink in Brad’s big plans, but he improvised. He and Heather stayed to enjoy dessert alone, and she was all smiles. “I’m so excited for Brenda and,” she laughed, “I can’t believe how obvious we were all those years.”

  A silver tray appeared before her and she frowned. “What’s this?”

  “A very special dessert.” His heart thundered in his chest. “Open it.”

  She looked intrigued, lifted the top and set it aside. She picked up the travel envelope and eyed him. “What is this, Brad?”

  “Tickets for two to Paris, with a stop in Italy for an authentic Italian meal, two weeks from now.” He drew a breath and went down on one knee beside her, a velvet box in his hand behind his back. “Tickets to Paris where I hope you’ll marry me.”

  “What? What did you say?”

  “I love you, Heather. Looking back I know I have loved you for most of my adult life. Marry me. Be my wife.”

  He never got a chance to show her the white diamond in the box. She flung her arms around his neck and hugged him close. “Yes. Yes. Yes. I love you too. I love you so much.” He kissed her, and there was clapping in the restaurant.

  Later, much later, she lay beautifully naked in his bed–their bed in the very near future—with nothing but a white diamond on her finger and a smile on her lips. He was one hell of a lucky man. He had his good girl, his naughty girl, his best friend, and soon, his wife, in one perfect package.

  An excerpt from HOT VAMPIRE KISS

  Book 1 of THE VAMPIRE WARDENS TRILOGY By

  LISA RENEE JONES

  A 23, 000 word erotic novella -- OUT NOW – for 99 cents!

  Kindle, Nook, Smashwords, and coming to ITUNES soon!

  The werewolf population is entrenched in a century long civil war, and now they are plagued by a virus that is turning wolves into killers. The Brooks brothers pursue one such rogue werewolf to Temple, Texas. It is in Temple that Evan encounters a beautiful nurse named Marissa who instantly melts the hundred years of ice running through his veins. When she is brutally attacked by the wolf, he breaks the rules of the Vampire Council and uses his blood to save her. Now, if he doesn’t kill the wolf by the next full moon, Marissa will become a killer wolf, and he will be sentenced to death.

  Book 2, Aiden’s story — Hot Vampire Seduction -- out September 12th!

  Book 3, Troy’s story — Hot Vampire Touch -- out in December of 2011

  Excerpt from HOT VAMPIRE KISS

  Book 1 of the Wardens trilogy of three vampire brothers!

  Three hours later, the bar was closed, but Evan had ensured that Marissa lingered in her seat, a drink in front of her. He wasn’t about to allow her to leave without him, and not just because of the wolf he was certain would have her in his sight. No – there was more to his desire to keep Marissa nearby. Plain and simple, he wanted her, and not just physically, though there was no question, she got him hot and hard. He was, after all, a male, a vampire male, with primal, sexual instincts that had him imagining all kinds of wicked ways to make her scream his name. But what really had him by the balls was not the desire she created in him, but the way she’d made him laugh when he’d have sworn it wasn’t possible. The way she’d made him smile when he was certain he had no reason. The way she’d made him realize how empty a century of hunting had made him and he wanted to know why, and how, a woman he barely knew could do such things. The time for discovery, both in and out of bed, was not now though.

  He wiped down the counter, working toward closing up the bar, focused on getting Marissa out of here safely. To ensure the wolf didn’t target her, as he normally did the friends and acquaintances of his victims.

  All but done with the façade of this night’s bartender duties, he cast a quick, seductive glance at Marissa, making no attempt to tame the primal heat in his stare. She wasn’t for him, he told himself silently. She was a forever kind of girl, and not the kind of forever he could give her. Nevertheless, when she smiled shyly at him, his groin tightened, cock thickening against his zipper, and he knew he wasn’t walking away without fucking her every which way she’d have him.

  He tossed the rag down, and rounded the bar, eliminating the counter that had separated them all night, to stand beside her, his hand on the back of her stool. She turned to face him, the scent of her teasing his nostrils, his arm creating an intimate enclosure, trapping her between the counter and his body. She was his in that moment and the idea appealed to him far more than it should. One tilt of his head and his teeth could touch that delicate, pale neck. His lips her lips. His body her body.

  She glanced up at him, her long, dark lashes fluttering with a combination of uncertainty and desire, her pupils dilated with the effects of the alcohol she’d consumed.

&n
bsp; “You really are…tall,” she whispered.

  “And you,” he said, brushing a finger over her chin, “really are beautiful.” And innocent. Too innocent and perfect for the likes of him.

  She shivered. “Tall and a smooth talker, I think I should be afraid.” Her palm slid down the bar. “Ouch!” She drew her hand forward, red pooling on her index finger, a splinter of wood sticking out from the red center.

  Instant lust fired through Evan as he took the opportunity presented and snatched the splinter away before he drew her finger to his lips. The sweet taste of her blood exploded on his taste buds, filling him with lust, desire -- fueling the sexual side of his vampire nature, when he already wanted this woman to the point of white-hot demand. His gums tingled, his recessed cuspids threatening to extend.

  His eyes met hers, the scent of her arousal, the taste of her blood, seeping through him with a demand that he claim her, claim satisfaction. Somewhere in the back of the bar a door slammed shut. The sound was a jolt of reality that shook Evan just enough to calm the beast inside him threatening to take control of him, of her.

  Slowly his tongue swirled around her finger, and then he released it, inspecting the area where the splinter had been.

  “All better,” he said.

  A stunned look etched her features. “I was right,” she whispered.

  His brows dipped, “Right?”

  “When I said I should be afraid of you,” she explained. “Because there is no way that what you just did should not bother me but it…”

  He leaned close, sliding his face against hers, his lips near her ear, his mouth far too close to the vein he hungered to puncture -- for his own good – most certainly for her own good. And yet, he found himself asking, “Aroused you?”

  Coming in November 2011

  In bookstores and in e-book!

  Sourcebooks Casablanca (November 2011)

  ISBN-10: 1402251599

  ISBN-13: 978-1402251597

  The Hero: Sterling

  He was created, molded, formed from life, love, and misery…

  Lethally daring. Ruthlessly passionate. He invites death to his door. Welcomes it with each breath he draws, each step he takes. And thus he is danger. A volatile storm that will sweep across the calm realms of humanity and shake it to the depths of its core. And that storm is…Sterling.

  Product Description

  Award-winning, bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is breaking out of series romance success into single title with her fast-paced, paranormal romantic suspense series full of dark danger and sizzling hot passion.

  Sterling Jeter, Renegade Super Soldier, is fearless, powerful, and wildly unpredictable. His life-threatening mission is to save the beautiful, brilliant astrobiologist Rebecca Burns from ruthless villain Adam Rain. But their immutable mutual attraction threatens to put them in the path of death... or worse...

  EXCERPT:

  His cheek brushed hers, whiskers erotically scraping against her skin, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered, “If I instinctively know something so simple as how to order your dinner, think what else I might know about you. What we might know about each other. How to tease each other… How to please each other.”

  There was an emptiness inside her that shuddered with hope, with a plea that he would drive it away, fill it with something that wasn’t icy and cold.

  He pulled back and looked at her, his eyes dark, passionate. Compelling. “No regrets, Becca,” he vowed, and she knew he’d found those words in her head. Words she’d sworn to live by when she’d left that German hospital without a cure. Words she’d spoken in her head in the lab earlier with him there.

  She rolled them around inside her and let them take root, rewarded herself with a deep inhalation of Sterling’s addictive, masculine scent. “No regrets,” she said softly.

  A slow smile formed on his lips. “I love it when you agree with me,” he teased.

  Becca laughed. “You’re crazy.”

  “About you,” he said huskily.

  She felt a little schoolgirl rush from that. In the past, she would have felt like the geeky bookworm with the quarterback, uncomfortable and out of her league, but not with Sterling. Never before had a man taken her from such dark emotions to laughter. A place she might just find real escape.

  She pressed her hands to his face, her lips to his. Absorbing him. Breathing him in like a little piece of life. They lingered that way, heat simmering between them. Expanding… drawing them in closer to one another without ever moving.

  His tongue flickered against her lips, pressed past her teeth as he slid it against hers for a long, sensual taste. “Your kisses taste like honey,” he murmured. “What does the rest of you taste like?”

  She shivered at the erotic comment—the promise he was going to find out. He kissed her again. Crazy-wild, hot-kissed her, and she loved every second of it. Loved his tongue, his lips, and his hands sliding through her hair, over her face.

  Becca ran her fingers through his thick, blond hair. She loved his hair—a little wild like him. Hot like him too. With each stroke of his tongue, each touch of his lips, she felt liberated.

  Her palms traveled over his chest—warm, hard muscle, her reward. She was extremely, intensely interested in those muscles, like the best science project in the world that had to be studied. She explored his arms, his biceps, how they felt beneath her palms. Inching forward in her chair, she arched into him, for research purposes, of course. To explore how he would feel pressed close to her. Her breasts ached for his touch, her nipples tight and swollen, in need of his mouth. God. Had she really just had that brazen thought? She was a good girl; she always had been.

  His hands slid over her breasts, fingers teased the stiff peaks of her nipples. Her hands covered his, silently telling him she wanted more, because she couldn’t ask or demand. Because she was still that “good girl” at heart and couldn’t seem to let it go.

  But she didn’t want to be a good girl. If anyone knew the meaning of “life is short,” she did. Becca ran her lips over his jaw, hid her face in his neck, and nibbled as she said, “You know what I want?”

  He slid his hands around her waist. “If you say Chinese food, I’m going to object.”

  “I’ll give you a choice then,” she said, feeling braver with his jest. “Feed me, or take off your clothes.”

  “I’m all for getting naked, if you are,” he quickly agreed.

  “You first,” she bargained.

  And while the idea of standing in front of him naked, him fully clothed, would make her feel vulnerable, exposed, it apparently had none of those effects on him.

  “Okay,” he said, unaffected by the idea as he pushed to his feet and started undressing. And only seconds later, he stood there in all his naked glory, and she sat there, fully clothed.

  Sterling uses humor and flippant remarks to mask those wounds so I thought I'd share a few fun “STERLINGISMS” as I call them.

  "We Renegades write our own rules. The good, bendable kind that let me kick your ass all over the curb and then do it again just for fun.”

  ****

  After being punched -- "Feels Good"

  ****

  “You don’t know the meaning of ‘wait,’

  do you?” Caleb asked.

  Sterling grinned. “You wouldn’t love me if I did.”

  ****

  “I’ll be taking that vial of ICE you got there in your pocket. Then you can mosey on along and take the rest of your lifetime on vacation. You know, do whatever retired drug dealers do. Play the casino tables. Watch SpongeBob for all I care. Just get the hell off my streets.”

  ****

  “You’re the suit-wearing, talk-down-to-you, and then bust-your-wallet-in-the-balls, kind of asshole. I’m the dirty-boxing, back-alley kind of asshole.”

  ***

  Sterling’s lips twisted with a wry taunt. “The next two bullets won’t hit the ground. Think of all those little bones in your feet blasted away by
the steel force of a bullet.” He shook his head. “Ouch. That hurts just thinking about it. Even on an ICE high, that’s gonna bite like a bitch. After that, we’ll move upwards.” He pointed the gun at Mohawk’s knee. Then his thigh. Then shoved the gun toward his crotch. “About midway up is where all the fun starts. If I blow it off, will ICE grow it back? Wanna find out?”

  ***

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