The heat roared to life inside her
Laura caught a breath that made her chest rise and fall sharply. She could still see Daleâs smile.
âYou like that.â He made it a statement, not a question, as his hands caressed her bare skin.
âI do.â
There was an incredible unreality about the moment.
Sensory overload from the feel of his mouth, the sight of his dark head poised over her, the promise in those smoky eyes.
This was Dale Emerson, the man whoâd been haunting her subconscious for so long that watching him touch her was surreal in the extreme. It was a scene from one of her fantasies come to life while she stood barely dressed in front of a mirror, his tongue tasting her throat, a warm velvet stroke that left a gleam of dampness in its wake.
âIâve wanted to be bad with you for a long time.
And weâre going to be bad together, Laura. Very bad.â
Dear Reader,
Hot Sheets is the first book in my miniseries FALLING INN BEDâ¦. Since this series is all about how falling in bed leads to falling in love, I promise lots of red-hot fun in this and the stories ahead.
In this story we have Dale Emerson. You may remember him from About That Night, Blaze #53, where he laughed at the irony of his best buddy succumbing to love. That attitude meant his time had come. So what kind of woman would tempt this bad boy? Well, there just happens to be a beautiful bedding consultant who works at a sexy romance resort. Sounds like a perfect match, right?
Not exactly. Laura Granger likes romance with her sex. She wonât consider a fling no matter how hot her chemistry with Dale is. And itâs blazing! It doesnât take long before heâs not only obsessing about falling in bed, but falling in love.
I hope you enjoy Dale and Lauraâs love story. Let me know. Drop me a line at www.JeanieLondon.com. And watch for the next two books in the miniseriesâ#157, Run for Covers (Nov.), and #161, Pillow Chase (Dec.).
Very truly yours,
Jeanie London
âLET THE SEX GAMES BEGIN!â
Truer words had never been spoken. Laura Granger had crammed the schedule with more erotic events during the next three weeks than this old hotel had ever seen. That said a lot since the property had been built well over a hundred years ago.
Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast, or Falling Inn Bed as it was locally known, had started life during the 1880s boom that had earned Niagara Falls, New York, a place on the social calendar. Its evolution since that era had seen it alternately sparkle like a jewel and fade beneath the grime of the decades. But its most interesting development, as far as Laura was concerned, was its rebirth five years ago as a romance resort.
The term âromance resortâ roughly translated into an upscale old hotel that specialized in sex, and as the innâs special events coordinator, or bedding consultant as she was commonly known, Laura knew firsthand just how much sex permeated the mood around here. She could call the newly updated promotional blurb into memory by heart.
Fun, active and romantic, Falling Inn Bed, and Breakfast is a unique resort, the perfect escape for energeticâand slightly wicked!âcouples looking to ignite the spark.
Accommodations include suites exclusively designed for romance with lush settings such as the Roman Bagnio, Victorian Bordello, Sultanâs Seraglio, Warlordâs Tower, Wild West Brothel, Demimondaineâs Boudoir, Roaring Twentiesâ Speakeasy, Sixtiesâ Love Nest, Red-light District and the Space Odyssey.
A variety of exclusive shops offer erotic enhancements designed to drive couples wild, and with the grand opening of the new Wedding Wing, newlyweds will have a one-stop spot to accommodate all their naughty nuptial needs.
Unable to resist a smile, Laura gazed around the lobby of the innâs prized new addition. The Wedding Wingâ¦this was her baby, an idea realized from conception through construction and now inauguration. Sheâd spent the past two years bringing her vision for this fantasy wedding operation to life and she couldnât possibly be prouder of the result.
Light from a crystal chandelier illuminated the New England antiques arranged in welcoming clusters around the lobby. A small-scale reservation desk ran along the west wall, directly opposite her pride and joyâa Mireille Marceaux oil painting, showcased behind museum-quality glass.
The glass display had depleted a chunk of her budget, but the expense had been necessary to meet the terms of arranging the paintingâs loan for the grand opening. And acquiring this art, even for a visit, had been quite a coup. Not only was the nude a regional beauty, but she set the whole tone for the new wing. And to Lauraâs mind brought good luck for the all-important grand opening events.
She needed all the good luck she could get right now.