KCPink’s friend, Chicki Brown writes sexy, romantic novels that are real page turners. We wanted to share an excerpt from her novel, Ain’t Too Proud To Beg. Thank you Chicki, for sharing!
“What are you going to do about your car?” I asked, knowing how much he loved the vehicle Craig referred to as his land jet. “I thought the second you were reimbursed you’d be out shopping for a new ride.”
He rested his head back on the seat. “I’m not going to replace her.”
I looked up at him. “Why not?”
“Because I’ve been thinking about getting something a little more civilized.”
“Like what?” I couldn’t imagine him driving something other than a sports car with an engine that sounded like a Boeing 767.
“Something that holds more than two people. Maybe a Bentley. What do you think?”
“I think you should get what makes you happy.”
“That’s just it. I’ve realized cars are not what makes me happy. You do.” He lowered his head and brought his lips to mine in a soft, sweet kiss.
When I gave a small whimper, he closed his other arm around me and deepened the kiss. He plunged his tongue into my mouth, and I closed my eyes, my entire body going slack in his embrace. All I wanted was to melt into him so there wasn’t even space for air to get between us.
The combination of the wine at dinner, the sensual music coming through the sound system, and the wonderful sensation of his hard chest against my breasts had everything around me seeming to spin in circles. I drew in a gasp when his hands ran beneath my dress and up my thigh. His hot hand cupped my bottom, and then he stopped and rolled up the privacy window between the driver and us. The next thing I knew, he slid his arm under my knees, lifted me onto his lap and slipped a hand back under my dress. My fear of being hurt or deserted again disintegrated into the air like the tiny floating embers from a fire when he leaned back and pulled me on top of him. The rock hard bulge beneath my stomach beckoned, and I wiggled upward until we fit together perfectly.
“I was hoping this might happen,” he said in a breathless whisper. “So I booked a room at Shutters. Will you spend the night with me?”
“What are you, psychic?”
“No, just hopeful.”
Every nerve ending in my body screamed, and every last bit of my common sense yelled even louder that having sex with Vaughn Breland would end up destroying me. And I didn’t listen. Doing it in the back of a limo was sexy, but it wasn’t romantic, so when he buzzed the driver and told him to return to the hotel, my heart went into a wild, frenzied rhythm.
He leaned back until he was stretched out on the seat then pulled me on top of him. Lost in the wonderful feeling of a man’s body, I bent down and dipped my tongue between his open lips and rocked my hips back and forth until he uttered a moan. By the time our driver pulled up in front of the hotel, we both had a tough time getting out of the car on our passion-weakened legs.
Vaughn held my hand as we crossed the lobby. I tried not to giggle at how ridiculous we must have looked with my mussed hair and his ever-tightening pants. “Don’t you need to stop at the front desk?” I asked breathlessly as he nearly dragged me through the lobby and down a hallway.
“Uh uh. Not necessary.”