Justice – Blazinbear's Book Blog

Title: Storm

Series: Bad Boys of X-Ops Book III

Author: Rie Warren

Genre: Erotic romance, humor, thriller, suspense, military, action/adventure

Release Date: May 23, 2016

STORM - EBOOK COVER

Danger.

Lust.

Desire . . . Trust?

STORM

I’m headed back to the Blood Legion MC in New Orleans, my old stomping grounds. Guns. Thugs. Broads. Cocaine nightmares. A Mexican cartel, cracker coke runners, and now there’s a new international threat in town.

Blaize Carmichael is my only partner in this op. Blaize. As a biker babe. Jeeesus. I’ve had a bone for her from day one when she walked into headquarters—haughty, superior, and always in charge.

There’s a goddamn good chance we’ll get made, played, and put in the grave as government-issue traitors. But I can’t help it—I love to get rough, raw, dirty, and dominant with her.

No more yes ma’am, no ma’am. Blaize is about to find out I don’t always takes orders as issued.

BLAIZE

I can’t stand the way Storm calls me woman or cher or sexy. As soon as we’re back in DC, I’m going to wipe that infuriating wicked smirk right off his dangerously handsome face.

I’m always prepared for every scenario. I’ve built my career on complete professionalism in and out of the field. But when Storm comes at me with wild animal lust—when he opens up to me—when he opens me up, I can’t say no.

I don’t want to.

We’re in danger every single day we stay in NOLA. There is no way we can make it out alive. Not together. Not this time.

“T-Zone took you in when the CIA wrote you off,” Blaize scathed.

“And y’all think you were the ones doing me the favor? Baby, you’d need an extra hand to count the number of successful missions I’ve carried out for T-Z, and you goddamn know it.” I pushed her back with my huge muscled body pressing against her.

I watched her swallow, but some seriously angry heat came off her.

It only made her sexier to me.

“You got no excuses for that off-op shit you pulled tonight, and you know it. And you do not want to play this game with me tonight.” I began undressing.

Shirt tossed. Boots thrown. Belt whipped out. Pants tugged down.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I stood in front of her—a foreboding, tall, dark shadow of fully fit and ready-to-fuck man. “Lose the clothes, Blaize, before I slice and dice them with my knife.”

She sucked in a breath.

“You and I both know it’s been building to this.” With my hand curled beneath her chin, I lifted her mouth until it brushed against mine. “If you don’t want to get fucked and fucked hard by me right now you better leave this room and run tail back to DC.”

“I don’t back down from a challenge.”

I laughed. “This ain’t a challenge. It’s sex. You and me. Clothes. Off. Now.”

She undressed while I stood right up against her. Her breath hit me, her soft panting gusts of air. My eyes dipped lower when she skimmed the shirt from her shoulders. Her bra—lacy and creamy white—almost overflowed with her tits. I didn’t help her unclasp it but watched with hungry intensity when she hit the hook and it popped free.

The straps dripped off her arms, and her puffy pink nipples rasped against the hair on my chest.

I chugged in a lungful of air, balling my hands at my sides. My cock, thick and hard, wet the bare skin of her belly with a skein of pre-come.

“The jeans now.” My voice was low, thunderous, chest-deep.

She wiggled free, her breasts connecting with my abdomen, which clamped like I’d been hit by a hammer blow. Those soft swinging tits colliding against me made my head ratchet back. But I kept focus. Kept my gaze on her when she stood up.

No Fucking Panties.

Nude. Blaize. She was all golden skin and incredible eyes and glowing hair.

And heat poured off her, firing through my veins.

I stepped away, rubbing a hand across the thick black stubble on my chin. Taking her in. Filling my sights. Memorizing her.

And that little pink pout of her pussy lips—shiny and slick already—below the narrow tangle of bronze-red curls.

“Fuck, Blaize.”

She held her shoulders back, placed her hands on her hips, and asked, “Do I pass muster, sir?”

“Get on the bed. All fours.” A muscle at the back of my jaw ticked.

Her nipples hardened with my harsh words, and I watched a trail of wetness weep between her legs.

Fuuuuck me.

I didn’t touch her. Not yet. But it was damn hard not to.

I watched as her ass swayed, her hips switched back and forth, and she got into position in the middles of the bed.

I was hugely hung, hugely hard, and really fucking angry. Blaize knew it, and she was ready for me.

This mating dance was nearly over.

But I didn’t let myself get close to her yet.

Couldn’t.

She needed to understand the new rules first.

I almost trembled in my skin, walking around the bed, viewing her lush bod from every angle.

My voice thickened from my throat and came out hoarse and husky as hell. “Fair warning. You’ll be screaming tonight. Not because I took a strap to your ass like everyone downstairs expects. But because I’m about to fuck you so good. And when you have a hard time walking and sitting down tomorrow? Won’t be because I punished you. But because I screwed you all night long, cher.” I prowled onto the bed behind her. “Understand?”

In answer, Blaize drew herself up and cupped her tits. I straddled right behind her. For a moment. Running my hands over her body. Touching between her legs and pulling her back to me when her pelvis kicked forward. Sliding my palms up over the indent of her waist and holding her hands down to her sides. Lifting her breasts, massaging them, palming both mounds and thumbing across her nipples.

With my hand at the back of her neck, I slowly laid her down. Laid her out.

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Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html

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Title: Justice

Series: Bad Boys of X-Ops Book II

Author: Rie Warren

Genre: Erotic romance, humor, thriller, suspense, military, action/adventure

Release Date: April 25, 2016

Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000446_00066]

From the world of bad boys of Retribution MC comes a deliciously dangerous, scandalously sexy, four part series!

Good girl versus Bad boy. Southern charm comes head-to-head with military grit. They say opposites attract. That’s an understatement where Justice and Lawless are concerned.

JUSTICE

Let’s face it. I’ve got a bad rep with the ladies. I’m a rough-talking, smooth-loving, international playboy—yeah right, whatever—and an X-Ops specialist. Sure, I’m hiding a secret or two. Who isn’t? That’s the least of my concerns when I’m called in to lead an infiltrate-and-retrieve mission.

I’ve got my head in the game—the one firmly attached to my shoulders. An American embassy overseas is under siege, and I’m expecting to rescue the ambassador and his daughter, a stereotypical geeky damsel in distress, Matilda Lawless.

Caught in the crossfire between explosive danger and wild desire, I’m in for the shock of my life.

TILLY

I’m not looking for any man to save me. I’m pretty damn capable of taking care of myself, thank you very much. I have a successful career and was practically born and bred on a gun range, even if I can’t bake a perfect biscuit to save my life like a good southern woman should.

But there’s just something about that hardcore operative called Justice. He’s haunted and lonely, and I know that pain inside and out. It doesn’t hurt one little bit he’s been blessed with more than his fair share of good looks, plus a body that would make any red-blooded woman drool.

Barricaded inside the embassy, under my father’s shrewd eyes, I intend to have Justice no matter how many times he says he’s not good enough. I see the way he watches me. With dirty, sexy, hungry lust.

Fighting is what Justice does. Now I need him to fight for me.

Warning: Graphic sex, graphic action, graphic language. Triple X caution.

“I think you’d best get some rest, Matilda.” My voice came out low but razor sharp, my words blunt and unmuffled.

If I had to be an asshole to her to maintain the necessary distance I would, because the suddenness of wanting her so damn much was painful.

And futile.

And stupid beyond belief.

“Tsk.” She waltzed into the room all bare, tan legs and warm, soft scent.

Her fingers flicked at my forehead, and I reared back in surprise.

“Tilly, Ah told you. Only my grandmother has ever called me Matilda, and she’s so stiff I think she was molded into the apron she put on after she got married in 1948. I am not a Matilda.”

First of all, I couldn’t believe she’d flicked me. Me! A goddamn ex-marine and special operative.

And second, a grin crept up one side of my mouth, but I swallowed down the laugh that wanted to follow.

“What’s that?” Tilly pointed at the notebook resting in my lap.

“Uh.” Fuck. I’d completely forgotten about the damn thing. “Nothing.” I quickly rolled it up and stashed it in my pocket. “Bullshit on pages. Gonna make a bonfire out of it later.”

I pulled out a throwing star I always flipped back and forth between my fingers. It flashed like lightning, throwing sparks of light across the room.

A much more manly pursuit.

Jesus. I am losing it.

Maybe I need some sleep after all.

I groaned.

Tilly plopped right down beside me with upraised legs, leaning the back of her head against the wall. “God, but it’s hot in here.”

Plucking at her shirt that ballooned before settling back against the firm round hills of her tits, she rolled her head toward me. “Justin, right?”

I met her eyes for a moment to see the twinkle in her irises.

“Justice.” I growled.

“Justice? Hmm. Justice what?”

“I’m not giving out that information.” I made my frown as formidable as ever, but I could tell she didn’t give a shit.

She leaned close enough her warm breath caressed my ear. “Who would I tell?”

“Chase . . . Justice Chase.” The words tumbled from my mouth.

She clapped a hand over her mouth to withhold a giggle. “Well, that’s not so bad, is it? Imagine if it was Chase Justice.”

“It’s not that.” Maybe a little. “No one’s supposed to know . . . who I really am.”

“Lawless and Justice, huh?” Her hand found my forearm, and her fingers squeezed the steel cable muscles. “Sounds like an outlaw movie. The next big blockbuster. I promise to keep your secret, Justice Chase.”

Spunky Tilly somehow lifted all the fatigue from my body, and I aimed a feral grin at her.

Her eyelashes fluttered. Her smile became a softer curve of her lips.

Her fingers traced all the way down to my wrist where a pulse pounded a heavy beat before she skimmed her hand to my thigh and down to the floor between us.

She made my body thump and my blood race. She made sensations fire like a network of heat to the center of my groin.

Maybe it was just the day, the night, the adrenaline rush that hadn’t worn off and probably wouldn’t. The same thing happened with every op—unleashed energy I usually slaked afterward by fucking. Fucking hard. Randomly. Anonymously.

Here there was no one to screw. Except Tilly.

There was no escaping her presence either, and, man, did I want to fuck the living daylights out of her.

I lifted one knee and casually—oh so casually—crossed a forearm over it so my hand nearly dangled in my lap, obscuring my growing hard-on from view.

“You should stay in your quarters, Matilda.” My voice sounded like gravel, and I shifted again.

“Is that a direct order, sir?”

Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series.

A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.

You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html

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