Kayden/Simon
“You might not be so dismissive when you discover the truth.”
“Maybe not,” she slowly agreed. “But…”
He frowned as she struggled to find the words to express the need aching deep inside her.
“But what?”
“I’ve spent twenty-two years being locked away and told it was for my own good,” she
confessed. “I don’t won’t to waste another second just because it might hurt me later.”
His lips parted. He was going to continue to argue. She could feel it.
Framing his face in her hands, she tugged his head down to press her lips to his in a kiss of
flagrant yearning.
Kayden went rigid and Bianca’s heart began to sink. So much for her stumbling attempt at
seduction.
Then, just as she was about to pull back in embarrassment, Kayden’s arms lashed around
her body and he hauled her off her feet so he could deepen the kiss with a stark urgency.
A combustion of heat blasted through her as his tongue skillfully parted her lips and dipped
inside. She groaned. This was what she used to lay in her bed and fantasize about.

Kayden/Simon
Tryst paced the kitchen floor. Sh!t, sh!t, sh!t. She was going full rogue here. The mission was to
bring the male in. Done. Period. And it would’ve been so easy. Drugged, in the car, snoring
away—next stop, Wildlands.
Instead, she’d stripped him, tied him to the bed and gone over every inch of him. Each scar,
the waves of muscle on his belly, the tattoos on his scalp… After an hour, she’d thought better
of it, caged her curiosity, not to mention her lust, and started to untie him. But then he’d said
something. In his drugged sleep. Something that had made her both delay her plans and stay
out of communication with Parish and Raphael. Neither one knew she had the male in her
custody. She’d meant to contact them after securing him, hadn’t wanted them to know she’d
f*cked up and allowed him to get away.
But those words had arrowed straight to her soul. Gutted her. Made her pine—not pity.
Because if it was true…everything inside her—everything that snarled and stalked and loved the
feel of the bayou sun on her belly—demanded that she help him… Fix him…

Unchained
“How did you find me?” he said. “What do you want with me?”
Circe blinked, his voice pulling her back to the moment. She’d not been sexually attracted to
anyone in so long, she’d forgotten what that rush of excitement felt like. Then again, she’d not
had the chance to be attracted to anyone. Zeus kept her locked up tight and had for way too
long.
Focus. Sexy as hell you can use to your advantage.
She lifted a foot-long length of heavy chain. “Look familiar?”
His face paled as he looked at the chain Zeus had used to bind him to that rock. The rock
where he’d been tortured daily by a giant eagle that had torn into his side and consumed his
liver day after day. “Where did you get that?”
“Find me and I’ll tell you.”
His confused gaze lifted to her face. “Find you?”
“You’re a Titan. You have powers others don’t. Find me and I can help you make Zeus pay
for everything he’s done.”

Twist of Fate
She rolled her eyes. “I like how you assume you’re the only one being tortured.”
“Hey, I’ve been nothing but a⁠—”
“I swear to God if you say delight…”
He shrugged.
She sighed, looking a little overheated and frustrated and ticked off, which made two of
them.
Except he was also turned on. He couldn’t help it. Daisy talked with her hands, her eyes
flashing. She looked sexy as hell.
“Look,” she said. “Rocco’s in love. He’s marrying the man of his dreams, so it’s not about
you or me. Or us. Or the utter lack of an us⁠—"
“Funny, because it feels a whole bunch like it’s about us,” he said.
He’d meant to shut her up, of course, but what he hadn’t intended was to forget himself,
the wedding, his brother, and everything but the soft little sound that escaped her throat just
before she fisted her hands in his shirt.
Going to shove me away or pull me in, babe?
She kissed him back. More than that, she pressed all those sweet, sexy curves up against
him. With a groan, he wrapped his arms around her, feeling every contour of her sweet bod
against his. Her mouth had started out icy cold from the chill in the air, but it was hot now. They
were both hot.

The Anti-Fan and the Idol
He stares down at me. “You were a bad idea from the start.”
“And you were bad from the very beginning.” I lift my chin.
He lowers his head.
I go in first.
I kiss him.
His tongue invades my mouth the minute our lips touch. I tell myself it’s the adrenaline from
working out too hard or maybe just the darkness, but I know it’s him. I cling to his shirt and pull it
over his head.
He doesn’t hesitate at all as he spins me around and presses me against the nearest wall.
Why do bad ideas always feel so good?
I moan when he starts trailing kisses down my neck. If we get caught, we’re completely
screwed. But I’m willing to risk everything—including my dreams—for just one more taste of
him, one more flick of his tongue. His chest heaves as he deepens the kiss.
The lights flicker back on.
We break apart so fast you’d think our parents just walked in and announced we had to get
married.
I wipe my mouth.
He licks his lips.
I want more.