Sample Sunday – Cooking Class – New Release
Writing Cooking Class was such a kick. I had originally intended it as a sort of companion piece to Cherry’s Jubilee, my other erotic menage romance. Emphasis on the romance, BTW. I wanted a food tie-in, like with the chocolate in Cherry, and the words Cooking Class popped into my head. I love those chef cooking shows, especially the ones who are passionate about what they do, I wanted them getting passionate all over me!
So here’s the blurb:
Lily Cavanaugh did it the hard way. She’d apprenticed under Master Chef Evan Taylor until he threw one temper tantrum too many. She was madly in love with him but so was every other woman who worked for him. So she walked away and built her own restaurant. Then Evan and the director of his new TV show, Dylan Bryant, walk into her restaurant to offer her an intriguing proposition…
And here’s the excerpt:
“Back off, Evan,” Lily said, desperately, placing a hand on his chest to make him keep his distance. “I can’t think when you’re so close.”
She took a step back herself, needing to create some distance of her own, only to find Dylan had come up behind her as reinforcement for Evan.
“He’s right, Lily,” he said, his tone coaxing, compelling.
Turning, she looked up into his handsome face, at his firm mouth. She was all too aware of the feel of his long lean body against her. Desire flashed through her. Her own body was on fire. Her nipples ached.
“You too,” she said, remembering her earlier thought, “You’re just as bad. I can’t think with the two of you ganging up on me.”
Saying those words was a mistake, she knew it the minute she said them. The mental image sent another flash of heat racing through her, her thighs instantly damp from the flood of moisture between them. Color rose in her face.
Evan jumped on it. Suddenly he smiled and in that moment he looked wolfish, or devilish, and she knew she’d lost whatever advantage she’d had. She’d given herself away. He knew her too well.
“Can’t you?” he asked softly and the intensity in his voice brought her back around to face him.
His eyes flashed. Like a wolf to the kill, he closed on her, the look in his eyes both exhilarating and terrifying.
Something in those simple words, in that look, in the heat in his eyes, sent another rush of excitement through her. She nearly moaned, caught it back just in time.
She took a step back, only to find another wolf behind her. Dylan. His eyes were intent.
He’d caught her slip too, her inadvertent admission of attraction, desire for both of them.