Enter to win one of three print copies of WICKED EXPOSURE
Wicked Exposure # 1
Wicked Exposure # 1
By: Katana Collins
Releasing April 28th, 2015
Aphrodisia, an imprint from Kensington
A forensic photographer with the NYPD, Jessica is devastated to receive word of her sister’s death in a robbery gone awry. But when she arrives home in Portland and the local PD asks her to take pictures, she finds more than she bargained for. With each new photo she exposes more of her sister’s secret erotic life. And when she shares her discoveries with Sam, the super sexy local detective, she experiences passion she never knew possible. But Jessica soon learns she’s merely a pawn in a deadly game of betrayal and revenge and begins to wonder if her next picture could be her last…
One delicate brow raised over her amber eye. “Does that mean you’re staying the night, Dick?”
The tension knotted between Sam's brows softened for the first time all night and a smile hinted those full lips of his. “I don’t know. Does that mean I’m invited to stay?”
He still hadn’t given her what she wanted—no, what she needed. An explanation of why he abandoned her all those years ago. But, damn did Jess want him there with her all night. Just went to show how fucked up she was. Something crackled in the air like static and the tense moment snapped between them. Jess moved first, reaching for him, and he was a mere fraction of a second behind. They came together in a searing kiss and his hands tangled into her hair, tugging and touching as she ran her nails up the inside of his coat across his back.
As the kiss ended, Jess pushed him to arm’s length, rubbing her forehead with the free hand. “I can’t think clearly around you. You make everything foggy.”
He pulled back, searching her face through the sea of shadows in the low-lit room. Sliding a hand into his pocket, he pulled out a small box with a royal blue bow on it and placed it in Jess’s hands. Shock washed over her and heat warmed her chest.
“For me?” she asked.
One side of his lips tugged toward his eyes in lieu of an answer. “It’s an appropriate gift for the sort of party this is,” he said.
She gently lifted the box, held it to her ear, and gave it a little shake. Then, popping the lid, she gasped as Sam’s mouth lifted into a deliciously wicked smile. “You’re so bad,” she added, quietly lifting the lace panties from the box. “Oh!” Startled, she dropped them as they buzzed in her hands.
Sam grinned wide, holding up a remote from his pocket. “My challenge to you is to not come tonight,” he whispered. “Do you accept, Mademoiselle Pas Sûr?” he asked, using her alias for the anonymous masquerade.
Her breath hitched, causing her full breasts to heave with the sigh. She gave him an ultimatum. One that he still had not responded properly to. But God, she wanted him. She wanted this. She wanted to have fun. And if she was destined to die soon, she didn’t want to die alone. “This doesn’t mean I’m not still looking for answers about why you abandoned me. In fact, you should expect to have balls so blue, they’ll be mistaken for blueberries. But I accept, Private Dick.”
“Blueberries, huh?” His voice was just shy of a whisper and though he was stone-faced, there was the slightest trace of humor.
Jess flicked a glance to his impressive erection that strained against the material of his pants. One side of her mouth lifted. “Maybe plums,” she said. Stretching, she rolled her hips, gathering the slinky dress from her ankles and dragging it above her waist. The silence between them was thick and Sam wet his lips as he lowered himself to sit on the edge of the bed. A breeze from the open window slipped between her legs, cooling the bare flesh and she turned, her tight ass facing him. Bending slowly—painfully slowly—she slipped her heeled feet into the panties and scraped the lace up her smooth calves and thighs. Sam groaned as she turned, dropping the gown back to the floor. Then, lowering her hands so that she was bent, her cleavage hung just below his chin, she swept her lips across his.
Before she could pull back from the kiss, his hand cupped the back of her neck, crushing her lips against his. A moan slipped over her tongue, vibrating into his mouth as he tugged her into his lap. Hiking the dress around her waist, she wrapped her legs behind his back, Sam’s erection pressing against her damp sex. Trailing a line down her neck, Sam cupped a breast, squeezing it through the bodice. Her nipples strained against the stiff lace, begging to be touched.
Jess bucked against him, hitting the exact sweet spot above. Licking his thumb, Sam pulled back from her lips, holding her gaze steady before slowly slipping his wet finger into her panties. She hissed through her teeth, pumping her hips gently into his skilled hand. With little flicking movements, he brought her to the edge of climax. Jess bit down hard onto her bottom lip, curling her body away from his, and stood in front of Sam with her dress still around her waist. She smoothed the panties back in place and turned for him to get a view from behind. “Told you I had some superpower levels of self-control.” Jess shot him a wry grin from over her shoulder.
Sam stood as well, moving in behind her. “I was just getting warmed up.” Dragging his fingers gently down her bare arms, he clasped his fingers into hers and gently placed them palm down on her dresser. “Push that ass out for me, baby,” he whispered.
His stubble scraped against her jaw as he kissed a path up to her ear. His hand came down hard against her ass and she yelped, surprised at the sudden shift from gentle to rough.
“Do you even have to ask?” he growled in return.
Jess arched her back for Sam. The ache between her legs was growing with each passing moment. If she wasn’t allowed to come until after midnight, then it was gonna be a long evening. And yet, the thought of holding off until the witching hour sent frissions of excitement cascading down her spine.
Sam dropped to his knees behind her, nibbling the back of her knees, then the insides of her thighs. The dresser pressed against her white-knuckled grasp. She would not come, she would not come . . . and yet, with each lap of his tongue, she could feel the tightness knotting low in her belly.
Sam pulled away, gathering her dress in his hands, and as he dropped it all the way down to her feet, Jess suppressed a whimper.
With false bravery, she turned, pushed off the dresser, and grasped Sam’s lapel. Pulling him in flush against her body, she pulsed her hips over his erection. “See? You’re going down, Detective.”
He pressed the button and though the vibrator was silent, she buckled, falling into his chest with a cry. Sam smirked.
“We’ll see about that.”
Katana Collins splits her time evenly between photographing boudoir portraits and writing steam-your-glasses romances. In addition to navigating life as a small business owner, a first-time homeowner, and a newlywed, she is the author of the Soul Stripper trilogy and the graphic novel Cafe Racer, co-written with her husband Sean Murphy. She and her comic book artist husband commute back and forth as they please between Brooklyn and Portland, Maine, with their ever-growing family of rescue animals. She can usually be found hunched over her laptop in a cafe, guzzling gallons of coffee, and wearing fabulous (albeit sometimes impractical) shoes.