It’s #SatSpanks again, and I’ve got more from my upcoming release ‘Early Sins’ the prequel for ‘Lethal Sin‘. I premiered the cover already, so make sure to check it out! I’m so excited about this snippet that I’m going to let you get to it fast, just remember that Smith and Camille were at the benefit gala putting up with all the rich elite of the city, and Camille was blending in well. Then, well, Smith had other ideas…

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Smith’s grip on her hand was bordering painful as they hurried towards the darker end of the hall, and she could see that the large wooden doors at the end were shut, and they did not seem like the kind of doors that would be unlocked. Suddenly he pulled them to a stop and dragged her into a rounded alcove where a small bench was tucked.

“C…” With a tug on her hand he pulled her forward and pressed her back against the wall, his body close to hers. His hands brushed her cheeks, his expression reverent, holding her in place as his eyes danced over her face – and then he kissed her.

It wasn’t soft and gentle, but hungry, powerful. Raw with need.

He nipped her bottom lip and let out a growl against her mouth as he delved his tongue inside and they clashed, her hands gripping the front of his tux to pull him more firmly against her. He tasted like whiskey, sweet and warm, and she dove into the kiss with everything she had. One of his hands slid into her hair, tightening to tilt her head back so he could control it and she moaned against his lips as lightning took up residence in her spine. Everything tingled, and she couldn’t tell if it was the haze of alcohol building in her bloodstream from those last two hasty drinks, or if Smith was seriously just that good of a kisser. When he suddenly leaned down and scooped her off the floor, his strong hands behind her thighs, she decided on the latter.

Camille wrapped her legs around his waist, and although it meant that she was digging her gun into his ribs, he didn’t seem to mind. Fuck, he could kiss. He devoured her as he pressed her back against the wall, freeing one hand to glide up the bare skin of her thigh, and she rocked her hips, encouraging him, moaning softly against his lips. The hard press of his cock through his pants was impossible to ignore, and more than anything she wanted him.

Please don’t be a fucking dream.

As if he could hear her thoughts, the kiss broke and he pulled back a fraction of an inch, their harried breaths mingling between them, his jade eyes intense on hers, and she heard the low growl in his chest just before he kissed her again, harder than before. Urgently, like he was afraid she might disappear before he could memorize her – as if he were worried it was a dream too. His fist tightened in her hair, and it sent sparks down her back to join the storm growing inside her, forming a warm, tight ball of electricity low in her belly.

When he broke the kiss again they were both gasping, and he groaned, dropping his forehead against her shoulder. She could feel his heart pounding almost in time with hers, his shirt and jacket brushing against her chest. With a delicate touch she ran her hands tentatively up his arms until she could brush them into his hair, fine strands tickled her hands before she tugged him away from her so she could see his face.

He looked like he was in pain, his jade eyes vibrant and the most out of control she’d ever seen him. His was voice rough when he finally spoke, “You are so perfect, C. You are so unbelievably beautiful, and strong, and smart, and – God dammit.” With a sharp movement he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her away from him so that she had no option but to release him and plant her treacherous heels onto the tile again. When he tried to move away she grabbed onto his jacket and yanked him towards her.

No. Not again.

“Smith –” she said his name fast before pushing her hands into his hair to pull him down to her lips, and they stumbled backward until she was against the wall again. The kiss was all urgency on her part, and he met her with the same desperate intensity. There was an unmistakable hunger in it, a heat that was the delicate precision of fireworks and an out of control forest fire at the same time – and she was sure she was about to get burned, but she couldn’t stop it. Didn’t want to stop it. This was Smith.

Her savior. Her teacher. Her gun-toting angel of death.

It was a moment more before his hands landed on her again, but it seemed he couldn’t resist the pull either. One hand pressing in at her waist to pin her to the wall, the other sliding up her side until he held the base of her neck and suddenly she was pressed completely against him once more, the hardness against her lower belly unmistakable.

Just fuck me. Don’t think and fuck me.

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Anyone else need a fan? Just me? Holy shit. These next few blog hops are going to be HOT so don’t miss #WIPWednesday! Hopefully I finish this damn book soon, because Smith and Camille are too distracting, and I want to get it into all of your hands ASAP!