Storm by Rie Warren ♥ Release Blitz

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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Justice By Rie Warren ♥ Release Blitz

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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Coletrane (Bad Boys of Retribution MC) By Rie Warren ♥ Release Blitz

Title: Coletrane

Series: Bad Boys of Retribution MC

Author: Rie Warren

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: August 25, 2015

Coletrane:

Her name is Sinclair Chatham. Sin. That’s exactly what she is—walking, talking, in the flesh sin. She’s haughty, privileged, so goddamn starlet sexy, with an ass I want to grab and spank raw.

I want her to give herself over to me. I want her to lose that polished princess veneer. I want to strip away the money, the manicures, the maids, the immaculate façade.

I need her to be mine. But I’m a grunt. A biker. A tattoo artist. I’m blue collar all the way, and her family will probably shit bricks if they ever meet me.

Not to mention, I’m running from a bad past that’s about to catch up with me.

Sinclair:

I would never go for Cole in a million years. He’s gruff, rough around the edges—and covered in ink. He’s unapologetic, demanding, and sometimes scary as hell. He tells me what he wants, how he wants it, and why he’s going to ruin me for all other men.

Coletrane destroys my vanity, gets inside my head while he gets into my bed, and I can’t say no to him. He’s not what I expected—tender at times, taking no prisoners at others. He breaks me down, builds me up.

He is not my type.

They say opposites attract, and they’re right. I just didn’t expect him to turn my cushy life upside down and inside out. But it’s too late, and someone’s going to get hurt.

GODDAMN. SIN LOOKED FIIINE. It was a Saturday. I guessed her idea of slumming it was wearing a sarong that bared the length of one of her amazing thighs, a pair of sandals that wrapped up her calves in soft leather, and a strapless top that hugged her fuckhot figure in all the right places.

And her idea of going ghetto must’ve been trawling down here by the train yards.

Shock carried across Sin’s face as she took in Trixxie, me, and the aforementioned cock ring.

“Oh, hon. You worried about a little cock ring? Cole has things up his sleeves you ain’t even—”

“Trixx,” I cut her off midstream.

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll zip it.” Swooping into one of the back rooms, she poked her head out for a final zinger. “Call me if you need a fluffer for her.”

Sinclair stood just inside the door, shafts of sunlight making a halo of her hair. “Are you with her?”

“No. We’re coworkers. I don’t fuck where I earn money.”

“Then how does she know about your cock rings?” Staring at the silver ring I closed my fingers around, she perfected the hands on hips stance once again.

“Why? You jealous?” One of my eyebrows hooked up.

“Hardly.” She flicked back her amazing pure blonde curls and peered at me. “Just seems like something personal.”

“We tattoo and pierce each other, see half-naked bodies all day long. Ain’t much that’s personal around here, precious.” I punched my knuckles down on the counter, the muscles in my shoulders and arms bunching. “Your driver waiting outside?”

“No. I drove myself. I have my own license and everything.” She used that same give it to me, big boy breathy voice she’d taunted me with last night.

Like she knew exactly what I thought about her—overprivileged, unused to hard times, freewheeling and fancy-free without a care in the world.

Her soft green eyes widened to complete the look of total ingénue. Too bad her body spoke another story. And I knew she was taking me for a ride with this Little Miss So Innocent façade.

I stalked to the windows and checked outside. Then my mouth dropped open. I rocked on my heels. I looked some more.

I groaned. “You’re fucking kidding me.” Pressing my index finger to the window, I think I probably drooled. Like a fool. “Tell me that’s not yours.”

“All. Mine.” Her sultry whisper hit my neck, and damn, that was hot, but not as hot as the car illegally parked outside the shop.

A kick-ass ’77 Trans Am.

“Four hundred horsepower in that thing?” I asked.

“Kicks like a mule with the engine of a bull on ’roids.” Sin slid next to me as I goddamn salivated over the muscle car.

With the pop-out top windows and the massive hood bird decal an authentic red and black Firebird, the car was sex-on-four-wheels.

“Fuckin’ A.” I almost jizzed in my jeans. I wanted to fuck her in it, on it, see her drive it, and get behind the wheel with her in my lap. Fuck. “I thought you’d drive a Merc.”

“This is my weekend car.” Her fingers traipsed down my arm. “What can I say? I have a thing for hot rods.”

And I just happen to have the one for her.

It fucking thumped in my jeans.

Dragging myself away from the imminent girl plus car-gasm, I walked back to the counter and ignored the ancient black bakelight phone ringing at the far end.

“So, what can I do you for, Sin?”

And how soon can I do you?

“Sadie told me where you work.”

Of course she did.

I made no comment.

Sin glided across the floor as I heard Trixxie get on the horn in the room next door, answering the call I’d tuned out.

“I think I want some ink.” Sin stood right in front of me.

“What did you have in mind?”

“I’m not sure yet. Can I see some examples?”

We-elll, there were photos all over the walls, but I just so happened to have some living art to show her.

“Sure.” I whipped off my shirt.

I wasn’t a small boy. I was a badass man. The muscles came from daily workouts. The height—a mere six foot two that put Sin half a foot under me—matched my framework. The tats? They detailed memories, moments, people . . . my life.

Sin sucked in a breath and her eyes grew wide. She rounded the counter. Her touch on my chest fizzled through my skin, but I stood stock-still.

I remained silent except for a low grunt when she tugged on one of the nipple barbells.

“You weren’t kidding about the piercings.” Her warm gust of breath hit my skin, causing havoc to my willpower.

“I might be an asshole sometimes, but I never lie.”

She licked me, right across one of the barbells, right there in the middle of the shop.

My hand flew into her hair, and I pulled her back. “Unless you wanna get your pussy reamed across the counter right now, you better stand down.”

She moved back so suddenly she almost knocked over one of the boxes on the counter.

I shuddered all over, lifting half-mast eyes to her. “I’m not about to mar your perfect skin. Tattoos are off the table.”

She was gorgeous. Untouched. Peaches and cream and obviously protected from the hot South Carolina sun.

And she looked sooo damn good as she was, glaring at me.

“I don’t take no for an answer.” Her leg slid from the slit of her sarong as she cocked her hip and curled her lips.

“Too bad, precious. Ain’t gonna happen.” I smirked as I approached her. “And I’m more than happy to say no to you.”

“Then I’ll just get your colleague to do it.” Her arrogant chin lifted.

“The fuck you will. You don’t need another damn thing on you.” I set my lips to her ear. “You’re sexy. A stand-out. A walking wet dream.” I licked those lush lips I’d kissed the night before—just a taste. “There is something I wanna do to you though.”

“What?” she whispered, searching for my lips as I pulled away.

“I’ll pierce your nipples.”

Her mermaid eyes flicked to mine then down to my nipples. “Like yours?”

“Oh, no. Although I’m sure you’d like that.” Lifting my hands to my chest, I tugged on the two barbells and twisted them.

Hot flames of arousal coursed through me.

Sin moaned through parted lips.

I’d been hard before, but now my cock suddenly broke new records stiffness.

My voice dropped, and I skimmed a hand down the clenching ridged muscles of my abdomen. “It can make your nipples ultra sensitive.”

Her gaze drifted lower, following the path of my hand. “I can see that.”

Leaning forward, I whispered against her ear. “For you I’d do hoops. Pretty little ones for what I bet are your pretty little nipples. Hoops I can attach things to, charms . . . ” And weights. And delicate chains . . .

Oh hell yeah.

Sin licked her bombshell lips.

I set my teeth lightly on her earlobe then bit down with firmer pressure until she moaned.

Drawing back, I observed her with a lazy smile. She practically trembled, and it was an insane turn-on seeing her lose her control.

“Unless you’re too much of a good girl?”

“I’ll let you do it.” Her hair whipped over her shoulder as she met my burning gaze.

I inhaled harshly, the image of her baring her tits for me, holding still while I pierced her nipples, overwhelmed me with a surge of animal-like lust.

Not yet though.

Dragging my shirt back on, I grinned. “You have to earn it first.”

“What?” Her voice rose several octaves.

“You heard me.” I checked the clock.

Twenty minutes until my next appointment. Definitely not enough time to do what I wanted to with her. Not here. Not now.

Sin wouldn’t go down without a fight, of course. That was what made baiting her so damn fun.

She shoved me on the shoulder when I turned back to my sketch.

“Let’s get one thing absolutely clear, Cole. I’m the Executive Director of The Fairley-Chatham Family Foundation. I manage millions of dollars per annum. I might’ve been privileged”—she stomped her foot—“but I work for what I have, and I’m damn successful. So if you think you can keep treating me like some harebrained flake just because of where I come from—”

“Then act like it, precious.” I cut her off mid-riff.

Pressing up onto her tiptoes, she got in my face, hissing, “Stop calling me that.”

I glanced behind her, then quickly pushed her away from me. Three rough-looking hoodlums were outside with their hands all over her car.

“You need to leave now.” I prodded her to the door, going cold all over.

“But I’m not done—”

“You’re done. We are done.” My voice flinty hard, I urged her to hurry up as the gang bangers strutted inside.

I got out and loped around to Sin’s side. I liked the way she waited for me to open the door and help her out—she was a woman who knew she was quality.

With a flash of those long bare legs, she slid up against me. Her body felt incredible, curves in all the right places the perfect counterpoint to the hard muscles of mine.

Brushing the hair back from her temples, my fingers lingered at her neck where her pulse drummed against my skin. I leaned down and tasted her lips, quickly delving into her mouth before retreating with a smile.

“I hope you’re ready for this, precious, because I’m gonna eat you up.”

“Out here?” Her pale green eyes twinkled.

I pulled her away from the car and guided her up the steps that created an open breezeway in the apartment building. My place was at the top and overlooked a tennis court.

“You play?” she asked.

I unlocked my door and ushered her inside. “Hardly.”

Flicking the light switch, the tidy, tiny living room shifted into brightness, and just then a calico fur ball darted into the kitchen with screeching yeowl.

“What was that?” Sin pointed after the fleeing feline.

“I dunno. I think it’s a cat.” I rubbed a hand over my chin. “Could be a cross between a porcupine and an overgrown chipmunk? I call it Pincushion.”

As she giggled I waved vaguely around the four-room place. “So this is it. It’s not luxurious but—”

“It’s so clean.” She left my side to walk around the living room, her fingers occasionally coasting along the coffee table and the sound system set-up.

“Right? And I don’t even have a maid.” Lounging against the doorway opposite her, I winked.

“Shut up.” She rolled her eyes.

In just five long steps, I caged her against the wall. “Oh, I don’t think you want me to do that.”

I twisted her head up and crashed my lips to hers. My tongue lunged into her mouth, stroking hers. Brutal. Hard. Wet. I swallowed the whimper that escaped the back of her throat, and her hands flew to my ass to pull me all the way against her.

With a grunt, I tore my lips free, licking them to taste more of her.

A sneer of lust crossed my face, and my voice came out in a low deep rumble. “The things I’m gonna say to you tonight will make you so hot you’ll be begging me to fuck you harder, faster.” I nipped and licked the neck she arched for my tongue and teeth.

“Cole!” she gasped.

“Make your body ache for my cock.” I pressed my hips against her just once so she’d know what she was getting.

Then I stepped back, watching her as she panted. Her hair disheveled. Her tits jutting. Her eyes heavy.

“But we gotta talk about how this is gonna go down first,” I said.

“We do?” She slowly regained her composure. “This about the control thing again?”

“Mm hmm.” I dropped onto the couch and patted the cushion beside me.

She approached slowly and perched next to me.

“I want to push you to the limit. Find out what your limits are.”

“Is this about the power struggle,” she asked. “Does that get you off?”

“Not as much as you completely giving yourself over to me would.”

She hissed a sharp breath, her back arching unintentionally.

Damn. She might not like giving away control, but her body sure seemed interested in the idea.

Her voice a little shaky, she asked, “So is this a BDSM thing?”

I laughed, a long low sound. “Why, precious? Are you into the scene?”

“Of course not,” she snapped.

“Nothing wrong with that, you know?”

She narrowed her eyes on me. “I didn’t mean to imply that there was. Just—”

“You’re a good girl?”

Biting her lip, she gave a hesitant nod. She had no idea how hot she made me, just that little shot of insecurity in an otherwise totally impressive babe.

I scooted closer, dragging my fingers up her bare arm to the soft skin of her shoulder. “Wanna be my good girl?”

Again with the hesitant nod.

Jesus.

I withdrew my hand before I could be tempted to run it all over her smokin’ body. “It’s not a BDSM thing with me. I don’t call it that. Don’t call it anything. It’s just how I like to fuck.”

She made a small noise, and her thighs parted just a little bit. She was so ripe for this, right for me.

My voice lowered. “I don’t want to be your Dom or your Master or your Daddy. It’s not about pain. It’s about letting go. Finding out what gives you pleasure, and sometimes that’s not always orthodox.”

Her breath stuttered in an out as she shifted her gaze to me, her eyes sweeping over my face, my shoulders, my chest. “Do you ever just have sex?”

“Vanilla sex?”

Sin nodded, her cheeks turning a delicious shade of pink.

“I like all kinds of sex. Kinky. Straightforward fucking. Fast. Hard.” I turned toward her and kissed her lips between each subsequent word. “Long.” Kiss. “Slow.” A lingering touch of my tongue on hers. “ . . . anal.”

Her body snapped against mine, and her lips opened, her tongue rolling into my mouth.

After the soul scorching kiss that set my balls on edge, I eased my lips to her ear. “But if I’m really into a woman—and I’m really into you”—goddamn understatement—“I need to know it’s okay if I fuck you the way I want to.”

I leaned back. “So what do you say, Sin. Are you in?”

“I’m in.”

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Bo (Bad Boys of Retribution MC) by Rie Warren ♥ Release Blitz

Title: Bo

Series: Bad Boys of Retribution MC

Author: Rie Warren

Genre: MC Romance

Release Date: July 14, 2015

From the world of Carolina Bad Boys . . . Bo Maverick is ex-Force Recon and a force to be reckoned with.

Bo:

I’m a lover, not a fighter. Yeah, right. Talk about bullshit. I’ve been fighting all my life, and I know zip about love. Frankly, I don’t want to. More than bullets whizzing past my head or the very real possibility of ending up dead, love scares the shit out of me. I’m used to guns and killing, blood and dust.

Lust.

That’s what I feel for this woman, my goddamn shrink, Veronica. Doctor Hartley digs inside my head. She asks me questions, which I never answer. I’d much rather take the smart, sexy Doc to bed, but I can’t because of our clinical relationship.

My last Force Recon mission destroyed any semblance of humanity I had left. Those little triggers go off all the time now. When I’m asleep. When I’m awake. When the memories are raw. I bolt up, at knife point again, but there’s no enemy now.

Just Veronica and me.

Veronica:

Veronica. Doctor Hartley. I told Bo to call me Ronnie like everyone else, but he refuses. He shows up like he has a cattle prod shoved up his ass and sits through the allotted hour for his counseling session impervious to every approach. He’s powerful, forceful, explosive. He doesn’t scare me.

My marine doesn’t speak, but his sharp gaze pierces me all the same. He watches me with all the greed of a hunger never sated, a need never fulfilled. A desire never explored. He stows his secrets safely away, but I’m patient. I’ll get to him if he doesn’t get to me first.

And when I have him? I’ll want him forever. I know this. But I can’t. His past might be complicated, but mine is a minefield, one that will blow up in our faces before all is said and done.

Too bad. We could be so good together.

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

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Hunter by Rie Warren ♥ 4.5 Star Review & Release Blitz

Title: Hunter

Series: Bad Boys of Retribution MC #1

Author: Rie Warren

Genre: Contemp Erotic Romance

Release Date: June 2, 2015

From the world of Carolina Bad Boys! Hunter Sexton is too hot to handle..

Hunter:

My call-sign is GHOST. My roadname, too. I keep my head down, stay off the grid, fly under the radar. I’m the rough, gruff, good guy who does bad things for pay.

JB is my most recent mistake. The MC babe is innocence wrapped up in a rockin’ body. Don’t get me wrong, she has a wicked side, too. She’s kickass in bed, when we make it that far. But she’s the ultimate wholesome good girl, and I don’t want to dirty her up.

Hey, no one said life was all fun and games, right?

JB:

Good girl? I prefer to think of myself as a rebellious hellion. I live my life like I ride my bike: carefree, in your face, and full throttle. My soft side? Well, that’s reserved for my job.

I’m not looking for love, and I certainly don’t need any relationship complications. Too bad complicated is the only way Hunter comes.

He’s a quiet, deadly storm. He prowls. He hunts me. He wants me. He’s sexy, sinful . . . secretive. Hunter will turn my life inside out no thanks to his dangerous past about to come back and bite us both in the ass.

Who’s gonna save us now?

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

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I was on a kick with MC reads and was offered a shot to review Hunter, so glad to say that I took that chance and ran with it. I have not read a Rie Warren book till Hunter, all I can say is I was missing a lot. Not only is she a great writer but she is one that can keep the pages turning.

Hunter better known to most as Ghost is the bad boy all are momma’s warned us about. His is sexy as hell and one man you just can’t get enough of. He walks in a room and you just know nothing is going to get past him.

He is knocked on his butt when JB walks in the club. Ghost might be able to say he wants not part of her but his heart has other plans. JB is a little mystery in one hot package. She knows what she wants and takes it.

I can’t wait to see what come next for these two. One great hot read that any Romance fanatic will love. Rie amazing job!

Stalking to her, I kept my gaze locked on
hers. “Enough sightseeing.” I returned the photo to its place.

“Something else you want to see?” Wide
innocent eyes the color of a night sky delved into mine.

“Yeah. You. Naked.” On my bed.

I lead her upstairs without another word
spoken. In my bedroom, I switched on a small light because I was not about to
waste this opportunity. Our lips crashed together, and hers were warm and
pliable, her tongue motherfucking acrobatic as it danced and dived around mine.
For a moment, we tasted each other outside of our mouths, lips held open,
tongues touching, and it was so hot I broke away with a groan.

“I need . . .”

“What do you need, baby?” JB’s voice had
lowered to a dirty gritty lusty tone.

My cock lay at an awkward angle inside the
constricting jeans. I popped open the top buttons, worked my hand inside, and
straightened myself. The wet engorged tip kissed my stomach, stretching beyond
the waist of my jeans. “Needed some breathing room.”

“Show me.”

I arched an eyebrow.

“If your cock’s so hard because of me you
can’t fit in your jeans anymore, I deserve to see what I’m getting.”

Far be it for me to argue. I drew my shirt
off and tossed it aside.

My cock needed no coercion making an
appearance. Another couple inches pulsed out of the opening, splitting the
denim wide.

“Good lord,” JB gasped. “You’ve got girth.”

My shoulders shook with a laugh. “Girth?”

“Holy shit, yeah. You’re . . . um”—she pulled her top lip through her
teeth, leaving it shiny and still lipstick red—“thick as my wrist. See?”

She lined up her hand with my shaft butting
out of the jeans. My thighs tensed at the touch of her skin against mine. I
glanced down then slammed my eyes shut. She wasn’t wrong.

“Oh my God.” Her hands flew to my chest,
and I looked at her through half-slit eyes.

Her touch ignited the fire racing to my
nads. “What?”

“Chest hair, too. Sexy.” She tweaked my
flat brown nipples and I shuddered hard.

I was a man, yeah I had chest hair, a black
smattering across my pecs that formed a straight line down my abs and beyond.

She seemed to approve, rubbing her cheek
against the light pelt then attaching her hot moist mouth to my skin, on the
move to my stomach.

“Not so fast.” I pulled her up. “Fair’s
fair. Top off.”

Crossing both arms at the hem, she winked
before pulling the longsleeve up and off. Encased in a sheer black bra, her
tits bounced, and her nipples were dark, coin-sized, pebbled. As I’d imagined,
hoped, fantasized, she had tiny dots of freckles on her shoulders and across
the high, full, creamy mounds.

Pulling her to my chest, I looked down her
back. Those tempting butterfly tats increased in size the lower they were inked
on her spine until the largest—bright blue, violet, and black—decorated her
skin just above the dimples of her ass.

Finding what I was looking for, I snapped
open the clasp of her bra. I hooked one strap then the other off her shoulders.
When I pushed JB a step back, the bra fell to floor.

I ran my hands from the flair of her hips
to the indent of her waist, over her ribs and up to her breasts. Cupping the
twin mounds of so-soft flesh, I watched her plum-colored nipples peek between my fingers.

“Gorgeous.” I bent, kissing one nub with a
lingering suck then the other. I crouched even farther, trailing the tip of my
tongue from her belly button and up through her deep cleavage. “Freckles,” I
moaned. “I love your freckles.”

I tongued all the little dots I could find,
palming her generous tits, scraping my thumbs across her nipples.

She raked her fingers through my hair
before tugging on it. “My turn to see more.”

I stared at her breasts, frowning. “For a
small woman, you sure are bossy.”

JB cupped her tits, pinching her nipples.
“Small?”

“You’ve got a beautiful cock, Hunter.”

Oh dear God!

“Gonna suck it so good now.”

She slid her lips up one side of my shaft then the other. I watched, out
of my head horny.

When her saliva mixed with my precome, she smacked her lips against the
engorged purple head. She sucked on me, just to the rim and back.

“Is this what you wanted?” JB looked up with big innocent eyes. “Want to
feel dirty with me?”

I held her face between my hands and drove up into her mouth.

After that first touch, I let her blow me how she wanted. My toes curled.
My back bowed. I pulled the bottom sheet clear off the bed and struggled to
hold back.

She came up for a breather with a smile, holding my cock in her hand. She
stroked me, looking at the bulge of veins that stood in relief when she
squeezed tighter.

“Can’t get you all the way inside, but maybe you’ll like this.” She
flipped her hair forward and wrapped the silky strands around the base of my
cock.

She went back to sucking and kissing my tip, stroking my length with her
hair. The thought of the smell of my cock on her hair pulled a loud shout from
me.

My balls drew up, turned hard, and almost traveled inside my body, my
release was so imminent. But Jessica released me, blowing a hot soft stream of
breath along my shaft.

“Fuck,” I growled. “Please. Need to come.”

She skimmed her teeth along the helmet of my head, and gently bit down.

My head knocked back.

“My big tough man likes that?” She bit me again. “You like it a little
rough?”

The pain was just enough to heighten my senses, the soft lips afterward
mind-blowingly intense. “God, Jessica . . . what you do to me should be
illegal.”

An hour later, I slid onto my motorcycle.
Helmet in hand, I ramped the Deus Grievous Angel to life.

JB materialized next to me, huddling inside
her padded leather jacket. “Sorry about before. Rayce has issues.”

“And where’s your bodyguard now?”

“I don’t need one.” She unfolded her arms,
and her jacket gaped open at her chest. She took my helmet from my hands and
slung it onto the handlebar.

“Beg to differ.” She definitely needed
protection from me.

JB made the first move, I’d testify to that
shit in court. She leaned over me and licked her lips. Then my hands were in
her hair, burrowing deeper, and I dragged her to my mouth. She straddled me
when I lifted her onto my lap. The moist touch of her tongue parted my lips.

I groaned, opening up to her talented
lunges, following the sleek kisses into her mouth where our tongues collided. I
wanted to thrust down her throat with my cock. Rip her pants apart and fuck her
until she screamed. Take her on my motorcycle and spray my come all over her
body. The intensity of my reaction steered all coherent thought from my head.

The soul-searing kiss lit me up inside. I
wanted more.

Bad move. One of my worst. I’d regret it
later. Right now I’d savor the way JB moaned, riding my thigh, getting off on
me.

I wanted to have this for one more minute.

I
wanted her.

I couldn’t have her. I shouldn’t stain her.
My soul wasn’t even intact.

With a growl, I pushed her off me. I
steadied her with a hand on her hip as she found her footing.

“What’s your
problem?” JB frowned, her lips swollen from my kisses.

“I can’t. Not with you. Not like this.” I
wouldn’t meet her eyes.

“Damn right you can’t. I’m too good for
you.” She zipped her jacket all the way to the chin.

Nothing hotter than a woman with an
attitude who knew what she wanted, but I couldn’t take advantage.

“Exactly.” I throttled my raging black bike,
shouting over the roar of pipes, “We agree. Never gonna happen.”

Peeling out of the parking lot, I glanced
back one last time. Big mistake. JB stood under the halo of a streetlight with
one stiff middle finger raised in my direction. And I wanted her even more.

Not
gonna happen.

Only one good thing had come out of my life, and I had
nothing left to give.