This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Enter to win a $25 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Surrender to desire with 12 books by the hottest names in dark romance, including bestselling authors Pepper Winters, Anna Zaires, and Lynda Chance.
CD Reiss - Spin
Jenika Snow – A Beautiful Prison
Pepper Winters – Destroyed
Skye Warren – Trust in Me
Kendall Ryan – Unravel Me
Anna Zaires & Dima Zales – Twist Me
Shay Savage – Otherwise Alone & Otherwise Occupied
Amber Lin & Shari Slade – Three Nights with a Rock Star
Pam Godwin – Deliver
Lynda Chance – Marco’s Redemption
Gemma James – Torrent
These e-books would cost over $40 if purchased separately. This set will only be available for a limited time.
Enjoy an excerpt from Trust in Me by Skye Warren:
Tyler sighed, resigned. “Okay. Come on.”
And really, isn’t that just what every girl wants to hear from a guy agreeing to fuck her? But I wasn’t like every girl. This was a job, that was all.
He led me to the bed and pulled me down with him. But I didn’t want him, not like this. I didn’t want him to have sex with me, not if he didn’t want me. I only remained here to protect those girls from forced sex, from rape. I couldn’t do the same thing to Tyler, not even to spare myself pain.
“Wait,” I said. “You don’t have to do this. Please don’t.”
“I have to,” he said, his teeth gritted.
This was all wrong. “You don’t want this,” I whispered.
He pulled my hand to his jeans where I felt his hardness pushing against the zipper. “Does this feel like I don’t want it?”
I already knew the body had nothing to do with the mind. “No,” I said. “I can tell you don’t. It doesn’t matter about me.”
He pushed me onto my back and loomed over me. “This is happening. Are you going to fight me?”
I shook my head. No, I wouldn’t—couldn’t—fight Tyler, not ever. No matter how I pledged my allegiance to Carlos, I couldn’t help but fight and resist every time he hurt me. With Tyler, it hurt just to be near him, but I’d endure it, if only to pretend a few minutes more.
He kissed me again, and it was almost real. Like a real kiss between two people having sex, as if I knew what that felt like. Both of us were doing this for business or to avoid pain or whatever reason, but none having to do with passion or pleasure. Still, I felt a long-buried stirring of passion. And, too, I felt pleasure as his lips molded over mine and his body lowered.
The weight of him, the heat of him, was delicious. Somehow I felt safe with him, which was a stupid error to make after working so hard and so long to be careful. He was working with Carlos—I couldn’t forget that. If Carlos ever found out I was double-crossing him, he wouldn’t kill me. He would keep me alive and make me wish I were dead.
Tyler’s hands found my breasts and easily slipped under the small halter top. He looked down at my breast in his hand. I knew I had beautiful breasts. Not because they looked beautiful to me—I hated the sight of them—but because I’d been told so. From very young, I’d been told how pretty they were—large, despite my lanky body, and pale with dark, hardened tips.
He groaned, just staring. “So beautiful.”
I hated that he said that, that he noticed what all the other men had noticed, that he was like them after all. At the same time, I almost preened. At least I had pleased him in some way. One of these days my contradictions would tear me apart.
His fingertip, blunt and rough, traced from the top of the slope to the tip.
“Why are you doing this?” he muttered, and it didn’t sound like he was talking to me but to himself.
Why was he doing this? Why did he need to get mixed up with Carlos? It would only end badly for Tyler. I had seen enough of Carlos’s business partners disappear to know that. God, but I didn’t want to think that Tyler would even want to be involved. Carlos had lots of different businesses, but they were all bad—drugs, guns. And my personal crusade, my curse, human trafficking. Which was Tyler involved in?
“You shouldn’t be here,” slipped out on a moan.
“I know,” he said, still mesmerized by my hated breasts.
“It isn’t right.” Why couldn’t he see? I wanted him to be good, but if he couldn’t do that, then at least I wanted him to be safe.
"I can’t stop,” he said.
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