Monday, August 28, 2006

Tanner's Scheme is done. Stamp finished on that bad boy, in 25 days. 105K the absolute longest Breed book ever written. (Elizabeth's Wolf was 70K) Not that I expect that length to stand up against the editors little red pencil. LOL. But, its finished, way longer than my current record of Elizabeth's Wolf in 21 days.
It poured itself out. I just hope it poured itself well. LOL
And now, for the promise I made you. An excerpt right? I hope the dirty words past muster here. LOL



After hanging up, she moved to the balcony doors. Sliding the curtains open Scheme opened the doors and stepped onto the shadowed expanse overlooking D.C. They were twenty floors up, and the view was breathtaking.
“I never tire of staying here,” she said as she felt him moved behind her, crowding her against the railing it. “From here, you can feel the pulse of the city below.”
It was almost sensual, intimate. That was why she enjoyed it. She wasn’t a part of the frantic pace from her position above the city. She was a voyeur, inhaling the life below and sustaining herself on it.”
“Why here and not at your home?” he asked her again, the warmth of his breath caressing the shell of her ear.
“You’re tenacious.” Her fingers tightened on the rail as she felt his hands move to her hips. “It’s peaceful here. Almost anonymous.” There were no hidden eyes watching, no malevolent ears dissecting each word, each move she made. Until his arrival, she had been safe here.
She turned, unable to bear the threat of his large body behind her without the benefit of seeing his face. Would he show a shift of expression? A subtle warning tense of his body if he made his move to kill her here.
When she stared up at him, his head tilted to the side, his eyes gleaming oddly in the dim light.
“You think I’m going to kill you?” Sensually full lips curved into an amused grin. “I wouldn’t kill you, Scheme. Fuck the hell out of you, yes. Turn you over to Breed Law, definitely. But I won’t kill you.”
“You can’t turn me over to Breed Law, Tanner,” she sighed as she regarded calmly. “I haven’t done anything.”
She was a double agent for the Bureau of Breed Affairs. Jonas might be a son of a bitch, but he wouldn’t see her pay for the very crimes she had committed to gain evidence against her father and the Council.
“Your signature is on kill orders, pretty girl,” he whispered, leaning forward to lay his lips against her ear. Wicked incisors scraped over the tender shell. “Pictures of your meetings with several suspected Council members. All we need is the confession of a close associate. Do you think that’s possible?”
Her lips quirked wryly. “I think Tanner, that you could acquire just about anything you wanted, if you wanted it bad enough.”
He frowned, his brow furrowing with a hint of frustration as his fingers tightened on her hips.
“You’re so confident of escaping Breed Law,” he said softly. “You should know better. Your father has headed the training branch of the Council for decades, and for the past ten years, we know you’ve been involved. Proving a definite isn’t all that hard to do.”
“So prove it.” She shrugged.
It would never happen. No one would dare betray her father in such a way, except her of course, and even if they did, she had the agreement she had signed with Jonas years before.
It was too bad Jonas trusted no one at Sanctuary. Having fall back position was always important. In this case, there was no safety net other than the place she had found to hide the agreement they signed.
“You could come clean.” He lowered his head further, his teeth rasping over her shoulder, following by his tongue.
Scheme forced herself to breathe normally, and nearly failed. That should not be erotic. She shouldn’t be creaming helplessly in response to something so simple.
“I just showered,” she whispered at his ear. “I promise you, I’m very clean.”
He nipped her shoulder. The sensual little pain brought a gasp from her lips and sent weakness shuddering through her body.
“I smell you,” he growled then. “You’re wet. So wet the scent of your arousal is like a drug.”
Scheme tried, she really did try, to force herself to focus. Her lashes fluttered against her cheeks though as his lips were suddenly on hers.
Sweet heaven. She hated kissing. She really did. But this kiss. Her hands tangled in his hair immediately, holding him to her as his lips slanted over hers and his tongue took immediate possession of her mouth. This kiss hot, blistering with sexual intent and lustful demand, literally swept through her senses.
His arms wrapped around her as he dragged her from the rail only to turn and press her into the wall of the balcony. He surrounded her. He was around her, inside her, heating her, warming her. Sending shards of brilliant heat to explode around her clitoris as her hips arched against him.
Damn, he needed to bottle this kiss. He could make a fortune.
One big hand moved to tangle in her head, pulling at it, causing her scalp to sting erotically as he pulled her head back, breaking the kiss before his lips singed her neck.
Scheme’s eyes drifted open, not that she could see much, her vision was hazy, dazed.
Lifting to the tips of her toes she sought to push the aching flesh between her thighs against the stiff length of his erection beneath his slacks.
Oh that was good. A whispering moan fell from her lips as she finally managed to rub the aching center of her body against him.
Then his hips thrust back to her, one hand gripping her ass to lift her.
“Put your legs around my waist,” he panted at her ear, doing that growly thing again. It made her want to lick his lips, to feel the vibration of it against her own.
Her legs moved around his waist, and then she saw stars.
Oh my. This was dangerous. She whimpered, and she never whimpered, when his cock pressed fully against her thighs and his hips did that rotating thing.
When a woman carried the name Scheme, she had to learn to live up to it. Right now, she was not living up to it. She was panting in heat and proud of it.
“I can feel the heat of your pussy through my pants.” His voice stroked her, the animalistic rumble stroking her from the inside out.
“Not a good idea.”
She was supposed to be cool. Calm. She was supposed to remember, Breeds hated her. Right?

Remember that one Schemer? Dangerous territory here.
“I’ve been dying to shove my dick inside you.” Explicit. He did not mince words in the slightest.
“Oh geeze, you’re such a romantic,” she gasp in no way turned off by the dangerously erotic statement.
“Did you want romance?” He nipped the line of her jaw. “Pretty lies to soften this.”
This being his teeth raking over her desperate nipple above the velvet before he drew the hard point, material and all, into his mouth.
The tight, muffled scream that left her lips shocked her. Oh shit. She was going to orgasm. Right here, pressed against the wall, from nothing but his teeth working the tight bud of her nipple.
And she wasn’t even embarrassed.
Could someone say paddle here? Because she was definitely up a less than safe creek and navigation was chancy at best.
Then he purred.

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