| Anna Ryan is a woman on a mission. She’s sassy, pretty, petite, and ready to reenter the dating world after a messy divorce. She will kiss a few frogs, but that’s okay because she needs the practice. As a romance author, one would think she knows about sex. Sure, she can bump and grind, but what she desires is passion – hot, steamy, mind-blowing chemistry.|
She capitalizes on the instantaneous lust with Chase Harris, deciding he is Frog #1. Sucking up her anxiety, she proposes a plan no man can refuse – sex with no strings, no commitment, and complete control. The catch is he must teach her "to make love" and do it for the next twelve days, a Christmas present to herself. The confirmed playboy is intrigued by the idea and takes it a step further by using the traditional carol The Twelve Days of Christmas to illustrate each lesson.
Anna needs to sow some wild oats so that means letting him go, even if Chase says he loves her. Bachelors talk a good game, so why does the intense look in his eyes have to be so real? Like he means it? Like she is…the one?
|Publisher's Note: This book contains explicit sexual situations, graphic language, and material that some readers may find objectionable: anal play.|
Now it's time for Casey to open up a view into her lush novel...Take it away Casey!!
I’m so excited to be here at Close Encounters of the Night Kind! Thank you, Nikki, for having me and helping me CAN’T FAKE THIS winning 2011 LRC Best Contemporary and a Gold Star from JERR! Now for the good stuff. I’m giving away an ebook copy of CAN’T FAKE THIS!
CAN’T FAKE THS is about a divorcee ready to reenter the dating world, Anna Ryan is determined to be the best “product on the market,” which requires a lot more experience so she propositions sexy police officer Chase Harris to teach her how to make hot, passionate love as opposed to just having sex. He takes it a step further, instructing each lesson based on The Twelve Days of Christmas.
So here’s an X-rated excerpt of what happens on the first day:
“Catching a disease somehow doesn’t concern me as much as being number God-knows-what.” How did one compete with that?
His hands wandered up my chest and neck to tilt my chin. It forced me to meet his intense gaze. “Something tells me you’re gonna be memorable.”
I doubted that, not with his track record.
He yanked me to his lips. We kissed with pent-up fervor. I sighed into his mouth, telling him of my need to feel every single detail of this moment. He tasted of confidence and adventure, his lips moving with exactly the right amount of assuredness. I refused to admit it was due to experience. I much preferred to believe he just excelled at what he did; Chase knew when to nip, when to suck…when to hold back. The kiss continued to tempt as he seemingly waited for me to press for more, to breach the barrier between a simple kiss and total loss of control. He surrendered the power to me, and I loved it. I caressed his tongue with my own. We allowed our hands to roam and search, seeking any way to pull each other closer. His body melded into mine. His erection rubbed my clit, and my pussy screamed in demand. Moist heat flooded my folds as our tongues collided with more passion than finesse. If Chase’s mouth were the forbidden fruit, then I was Eve, and I wanted every dad-blame apple on that tree. When he sucked my tongue, it tasted sinfully wonderful.
I could die right now knowing Frog #1 was a Grade-A kisser. My ability to think vanished. My body seemed to melt into molten lava right in his arms. I tugged at Chase’s shirt, and as I began to lift it, he eased me back on the couch.
“On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…” His voice took on a singsong quality as his hand slid under my damp panties. “Temptation in a hot package.”
I sighed. A vibrator had nothing on a man’s touch.
He traced my folds as if learning my body. It was more of a tease, exciting me for what would come. When his finger flicked my clit, the first trickle of orgasm bubbled up within me.
“Get naked.” After two freakin’ years, I couldn’t wait any longer.
He laughed at my order. “Oh, I want to and I will, but not tonight.” He tugged my panties off. “This is all about you.” A warm palm rubbed my ankle, calf, thigh…until his fingers found my clit again. My hips bucked of their own volition.
“Call me Chase.”
I was too lost to chide him. “Cha-ase.” My panting turned his name into two syllables.
His skilled thumb rotated in slow circles as a finger found haven inside me. It darted in and out, and as my muscles gripped it, he boldly inserted a second finger. He massaged my inner walls. I shuddered when he hit my G-spot. My weak legs spread farther apart, and I hiked one across the top of the couch. He smiled, then shifted his focus to my pussy, using one hand to open my slit and another to work magic.
It would have been too easy to give into only the physical pleasure since that’s what I’d always done. This time, I tried to pay attention to everything else. A fuzzy, fluttering feeling radiated from my stomach, fanning out. When it reached my chest, my heart skipped a beat. A smile spread over my face. This was unadulterated chemistry. The proof came in the heat rising from every pore of my body. My sweet perfume mixed with his fresh cologne and combined with the faint scent of feminine juices; the aroma intoxicated better than any wicked bomb.
I should have been self-conscious, lying open to his ministrations, selfishly taking all the pleasure for myself, yet I felt completely comfortable…and sexy. Maybe my lack of inhibition was because I knew after twelve days, I would never have to see him again, or maybe it was Chase’s amazing ability to show his appreciation for my body with a look, a touch, a smile. Still, the more he stroked, the more I became lost in the grip of passion. My orgasm gained momentum with each pump, every flick. My breathing hitched as my body coiled tight. God, how I wanted release, but I wanted to stay on the edge too. I wanted it all, the physical, and the emotional.
Digging my heels into the cushions, I pushed my hips up, increasing the pressure. He pulled his fingers out, and I whimpered, but a nanosecond later, he used them on my clit. In such a short time, he’d already figured out what I liked most. “That’s it, baby. You’re so wet.”
“’Cause you turn me on,” I replied between pants, the heady smell of feminine arousal overpowering now.
The fast up-and-down motion of his fingertips sent vibrations all through me; my breasts trembled with it, adding to the rapturous torment. I clamped my fists shut. My mouth dried. My ears burned. I thrashed my head back and forth. God, I was so damn close. I couldn’t remember a time when any man held me on the brink this long. I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on coming hard.
“Look at me.” The command was ragged and hoarse.
I didn’t want to. Eye contact was too intimate, but I knew that was part of the deal. To make love, I needed to go all the way. I locked gazes with Chase, and the desire I saw gave me the confidence to let go. To be myself with no self-consciousness. I watched in fascination as he inhaled the shuddering breath I exhaled.
He ran one hand up my stomach to my breast, giving it a gentle squeeze before rubbing my nipple. I didn’t believe it possible to feel this much pleasure at once, but Chase proved me wrong as he picked up speed and leaned forward to whisper, “Come, baby,” just before his lips crushed mine.
The kiss ignited a string of dynamite, burning my blood and searing my abdomen as I burst into an explosive orgasm. My hips jerked as waves of hot bliss rolled through my body. I wrenched away from his mouth to cry out as spasms rocked me.
“Open your eyes.” The words were clipped, his voice raspy, as if he were fighting for control.
I hadn’t realized I’d shut them. When I looked back at Chase, his flushed cheeks gave me a thrill. He wanted me and gazed at me with such affection my heart would have given a squeeze if it weren’t so busy pumping blood to the sensitive nerve endings of my clit.
He stared at me a long time as his fingers slowed, pulling miniorgasmic surges from my core. I sighed as he took deep breaths until his jaw relaxed. Finally he licked his lips and cocked a proud grin. I smiled back. He damn well deserved to gloat.
“You like that?” he asked.
“What do you think?”
He chuckled and pecked little kisses down my chest and torso. He nipped my hip bone and brought his mouth to my pussy. I heard him breathe in and hum in appreciation.
The slick sheen of sweat covering my skin began to dry. Chill bumps surfaced almost immediately when Chase moved away to kneel on the floor. Only then did it occur to me to wonder what he thought about my lying there spread-eagle and buck naked.
“Beautiful.” He stroked the hair fanning around my shoulders.
Well, all right, then. I felt giddy—stupid, raging-teenage-hormones giddy. The man was a prince and knew how to treat a woman. Especially one who hadn’t experienced such a mind-blowing orgasm in…ever.
My limp body wanted to lie there and salivate in the afterglow, but I summoned up some energy and rolled to my side. He sat close enough to touch, so I reached for him, my index finger drifting across his covered chest. “I want to see you.”
“Sorry. I forgot about your bruise.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“Never. The bruise will fade, but…” He glanced away.
“Not many things scare me, but almost dying sure puts life in perspective.” He went back to stroking my hair, staring like it belonged to him.
Like I belonged to him.
It made me feel more protected than possessed, which confused the crap out of me. Did I want to be cared for? Yes, just not by a player. When he looked at me like that though, I felt special. Chase had indeed perfected the ability to make a woman feel like she was the only one in his life.
I pushed up on my elbow for leverage and gently grabbed a fistful of his shirt. “I want you inside me.” I slid my hand toward his cock. It pulsed when I squeezed. “You want me too.”
“Fuck yeah, but here’s lesson one: a real man gets satisfaction in satisfying.”A little bit about Casey :
Casey Crow is a Summa Cum Laude graduate from the University of Alabama with degrees in Business Management and Dance. She received her Master of Business Administration from the University of Mobile. A resident of the Deep South, Casey stays busy running her two children to way too many activities. She also works as a dance choreographer, pageant coach of twenty years, professional emcee and model, and certified Miss America preliminary judge. In fact, she is a former Miss University of Alabama and NASCAR spokesmodel. She is addicted to CASTLE & REVENGE and works out constantly to compensate for her addiction to sweets and Barq's root beer. She enjoys playing pool, tennis & golf but never has the time and is therefore, pitiful at all three. Casey is an award-winning author of “Sexy, Sassy & Southern” erotic and spicy contemporary romances. Her debut CAN’T FAKE THIS was named 2011 Best Contemporary at Love Romances Café and received a Gold Star from Just Erotic Romance Reviews. Visit her at www.caseycrow.com. Follow her on Twitter – caseyecrow and Facebook – Casey Crow.
So what do you think makes a real man? Don’t forget to leave a comment for a chance to win an ebook copy of CAN’T FAKE THIS. I love connecting with readers and making new friends! Please consider hopping over to my website and signing up for my newsletter so you can stay up to date on my next release DANCE WITH A MILLIONAIRE, a f/m erotic coming in March!
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