Friday, May 5, 2017
Book Spotlight - Pink Pucks & Power Plays
Kindle Unlimited - Pink Pucks & Power Plays
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Viviana Land just can`t seem to say no to her younger sister. Somehow, the curvaceous society page reporter gets lassoed into serving as her niece`s Busy Bee scout leader. One overheated engine later, Viviana and her girls find themselves in the Green Hills Ice Rink. Enter Alain Lessard, the charmingly handsome defenseman for the Philadelphia Wildcats, who is donating his summer to coaching the youth league.
When our intrepid reporter is given the opportunity to write the break-out story of her career, Viviana leaps at the chance. Thinking it would be easy to flirt and tease some juicy tidbits out of Alain, Viviana soon finds herself falling for the sensual, younger, kind-hearted man. Will she put aside her virtual pen for a chance to stay at her new paramour`s side? Or will Viviana finally get away from those mundane bakery opening articles by using the man she may possibly be in love with?
One just never knows when one offers a man a whistle wetter what form that wetting will take. Whereas I had envisioned a long, tall flute of some lovely, mid-priced champagne from my fridge to refresh Alain’s tongue—he had something a bit less alcoholic in mind.
“It looks like I have one bottle of bubbly left from a New Year’s Eve party, or two bottles of raspberry spring water,” I announced from the chilly confines of my refrigerator. “Personally, I’d go with the champagne. The flavored water tastes off to me for some reason.” I reached for the bottle on the top shelf, and then pulled out two chilled flutes from the half dozen I leave in the fridge. “So, what do you want to wet your whistle with?” I asked, waving the bottle, cold air blowing over my calves.
Alain never uttered a syllable. His eyes grabbed mine. My heart leaped around like a frog on meth in my chest, and then he was all over me. My back hit the kitchen wall soundly. I held a bottle of champagne in my left hand and two crystal goblets in my right. Alain had me by the waist. My arms were looped around his neck. My leg was hiked up the side of his hip. He was more than mildly thirsty from his week on first base. He was nearly dehydrated. His tongue wrestled with mine aggressively. I pushed the cold bottle of Bollinger against the back of his head, egging him into kissing me harder and deeper. The light from the refrigerator was the only illumination aside from a small plum nightlight I keep lit beside the sink. I hoped like hell the salami didn’t get too warm.
I nearly dropped the bubbly when he lifted me from the floor to the counter. His mouth never left mine. He was so damned thirsty. His hands roamed up and down my thighs. My head bounced off a cupboard. I clumsily dropped the bottle and glasses. A goblet rolled into the sink as I dug my fingers into his dark curls, sealing his mouth over mine. When he skimmed the edges of my panties with fingertips rough as pine bark I whimpered. The kiss broke.
Alain licked a path of fire from my mouth to my neck, his right hand now massaging my hip as my coffeemaker moved inch by inch closer to the sink. I raised my leg higher on his side. He didn’t hesitate. The backs of his fingers brushed against my neat wax job. Some sort of interstellar light show happened behind my eyelids at that moment. I cried out, one hand wrapped around the base of his neck, the other sliding up his ribs under his shirt.
“Get this off,” I snarled, yanking madly. He continued kissing me while trying to shed his shirt. Eventually we got the damned thing out of the way. I think his swanky Stetson was in the car, or the living room, or the foyer. My mind was muddy, and really, who gives a shit about a hat? I finally had my hands on Alain Lessard’s chest. God was it divine! Firm as hardened steel, rippled and covered with a lovely dusting of hair that sprang back as my fingers greedily raked through it.
“Tit for tat?” he panted. I tugged my sweater over my head and pitched it. “Ah, you are so lovely. I adore big breasts.” He sighed as if he had stumbled into Nirvana via my cleavage.