Turning the Tide: A Siren's Revenge

Decadent Publishing Company

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 30,000
0 Ratings (0.0)

After a year of unemployment, Daphne Wells comes to Wiccan Haus to learn hydrotherapy for a new career as a healer. When her assigned patient turns out to be the sexy ex-boss who laid her off, resentment gets in the way of healing.

Giovanni Denaro arrives at Wiccan Haus, desperate to find a cure for the debilitating tension that threatens his high-level financial career. But after some intimate healing sessions, everything loses value except his need for Daphne’s forgiveness.

When a mermaid, filled with her own bitterness, offers Daphne a chance to get revenge on the man who ruined her life, will she dare to turn the tide?

Turning the Tide: A Siren's Revenge
0 Ratings (0.0)

Turning the Tide: A Siren's Revenge

Decadent Publishing Company

Heat Rating: Sizzling
Word Count: 30,000
0 Ratings (0.0)
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Excerpt

Daphne’s heart accelerated, throbbing against the darkness around her. Much like her life, she couldn’t control anything on this lousy island, including the elevators. Next time, she’d take the stairs—if there were any.
Her senses converged on warm fingers, feather soft, brushing her cheek. Gripping more firmly. Harder. Then the mouth. Oh God, the mouth.
Giovanni’s lips followed the pattern of his fingers. Brushing softly at first. Then pressing into her flesh until she opened to him. When she stepped backward, her spine contacted the elevator wall. The handrail dug into her waist while his torso covered the front of her. His hands felt so hot on her bare shoulders. So why did she shiver?
How could she have forgotten how good he smelled? Warm and slightly spicy. Not like a high-level executive but best friend-turned-lover. Craving more, she inhaled to the depths of her lungs.
She heard and felt his fast, deep breaths, too. Oxygen rushed through her lungs, matching his pace. The small space they stood in had no boundaries. Walls, arms, hearts. They were all one.
“We c-can’t—” she uttered when she managed to twist her head away.
“Yes, we can,” he whispered. “We are.”
She’d forgotten how persuasive he could be. Despite its softness, his voice commanded her the way it did executives in the boardroom. What must be his knuckles brushed down the front of her dress. Her nipples, already swollen and tight, hardened and shot a bolt of ecstasy to her toes.
After drawing her closer, he inserted his tongue between her lips. It felt as if every muscle in her face had let go. She couldn’t keep him out—not that she wanted to. He thrust his tongue into her so slowly and deliberately, it almost felt like a violation.
You can’t stop me. I dare you to try.

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