Tropes: Neighbors to Lovers, Alpha, Slow Burn Romance
Release Date: September 10, 2022
“Mr Gray Sweatpants was a romantic comedy that also was packed with emotion and heartfelt moments. This author never disappoints with the heat and the steam with the chemistry between Leo and Casey being like an inferno. These two made me laugh, cry and everything in between. A story that ticks every box and leaves you completely satisfied.”– Wiley Kate (Bookbub Review)
“Another touching, engaging story with many characters from the Single series if you’ve read and become a fan of them, and even if this is your first you’ll be captivated from beginning to end.” – Cheri ~Words Turn Me On (Goodreads Review)
“I opened this book and started with a smile, which turned into a giggle and developed into a laugh! It’s a slow burn romance with so much more in store.”– Sue Hancock (Goodreads Review)
“The storyline was so sweet, emotional and really steamy. I loved they way the author was able to make me care about the characters both the main characters but also the minor characters. I would love to see more stories within this world.”– Sarah Nielson (Bookbub Review)
Secrets, assuming, and an a$$hole cat that gives zero f*cks
A hot boy summer romantic-comedy. The boy next door, the girl with a million secrets and an a$$hole cat that cares about nobody. This book takes passing love notes in class to a whole new level. Guitar music on the beach, plenty of hardcore wooing and way too much assuming. And we all know what assuming does …
Casey Savage is a workaholic. During the summer she works two jobs and nearly seventy hours a week in order to save money for school. She has zero time for dating, boys, or being wooed. However, she’s also no fool and will willingly choose mind-blowing orgasms over sleep any day. Which is where Mr. Gray Sweatpants down the road comes in.
Leo Brandt is spending the summer fixing up his late grandmother’s house with the goal of it selling to turn a profit. The hottie up the block doesn’t seem to know he’s alive, but that doesn’t stop his fantasies from getting wild.
An a$$hole cat brings them together, and Leo’s determination to learn more about Casey than just what makes her reach climax the fastest, has Casey taking a hard step back.
Her past isn’t anybody’s business, least of all an itch-scratcher like Leo.
But try as she might, the sexy contractor is not just getting under her sheets, but he’s also getting under her skin and she finds herself falling for him. Dammit!
When Leo finally learns the truth about Casey and all the dirty secrets that she’s keeping will he still see her as more than just a hookup? Or will he sell the house as-is and not only get out of dodge but the neighborhood and Casey’s life completely?
“Casey,” he panted, breaking their kiss. “I’m trying to be good.”
“You are. Oh boy, you are. You’re sooooo good. You feel so good.” She rocked against him and moaned again.
His mouth fell to her neck, and he scraped his teeth along the side, seeing stars behind his closed eyelids as she slid the V of her legs along his hard shaft. He wasn’t going to last long. He was going to make a mess in his shorts if she kept moving the way she was, kept making those sexy little noises and pressing her tits toward his face.
“I’m willing to wait if it’s what you need, Leo,” she said, all breathless and sounding like she was hanging on by a thread. “But know that it’s not easy. I want nothing more than to feel all of you inside me. I can feel how big you are.” She slid her hand between them, and the heat from her palm felt like a brand against his cock, even through all the layers.
He growled. “Careful.”
“But don’t you just wonder how it would feel?” She ran her fingers up and down along his cock, driving him ever-loving mad with how badly he wanted to punch a hole through the khaki and fill her up properly.
“Every damn minute of the day,” he gritted out.
“How much of me do you need to know before we finally get to … give in to our basest desires?”
“So much more, baby. I want to know it all.” It took every ounce of willpower he had left not to push his hands down the front of her panties—since that was all that was between them, as she was wearing that sexy summer dress—and feel just how wet she was. He knew she was wet. He knew that when she climbed off him, there’d be a wet spot on the front of his shorts from where she was riding him. But he wanted to feel that wet heat on his fingertips, on his tongue, and wrapped around his cock.
“This feels so good.”
“So good,” he echoed.
“I’m close, Leo.”
Oh fuck. Yes.
He hadn’t heard the sweet melody of Casey coming in what felt like forever. Granted, it’d only been a little over a month since that night on his couch, but given the level of self-inflicted torture and sexual deprivation he felt, it could have been thirty years. Every moan, every mewl, every whimper made his dick throb against his khakis and his balls cinch up tight.
“Leo …” she said on a gasp.
“Casey, I want to get to—”
But his words were cut off at the knees when she grabbed him by the hair, lifted his head up and crushed her mouth to his. A second after her tongue surged forward into his mouth, she began to whimper and breathe heavily, the puffs from her nose hitting his upper lip.
She was coming.
Fuck him.
She was coming.
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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Don’t forget you get 10% off your order of any Tracy’s Dog product if you use my promo code: WhitleyCox.
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Dads of Seattle. Ten sexy single fathers who play poker every Saturday night, have each other’s backs, love their children without quarter, and hope to one day find love again.
This is Emmetts story …
Single dad of Seattle, Dr. Emmett Strong doesn’t believe in soulmates. Not since his ex-wife blindsided him with divorce papers, breaking not just his heart, but his daughter’s, as well. Eighteen months later, it’s just the two of them and he intends to keep it that way. He won’t hurt Josie again by bringing another woman into her life. However, fate has other plans and on New Year’s Eve, sparks instantly fly when he bumps into the intriguing and beautiful Zara.
Single mom and flower shop owner, Zara Olsen, has no time–or patience–for wishy-washy men who can’t commit., so she’s definitely not going to fall for the unavailable doctor. But when Emmett keeps getting thrown into her path, and the two wind up at the same New Year’s Eve party, she wonders if fate is trying to tell her he’s not so unavailable after all. He’s funny and kind, the chemistry between them is sizzling and it’s almost midnight. It must be time for a kiss. But when she finally gives into their attraction, she begins to regret it when Emmett starts acting strange.
Can Emmett set aside the past and reach for the bright future he could have with Zara, or will this New Year’s with the Single Dad end up being one Zara will remember, but would rather forget?
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you like single dads who take charge, this book is for you.
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
A pain so powerful can only be eased by a love even stronger.
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Dads of Seattle. Ten sexy single fathers who play poker every Saturday night, have each other’s backs, love their children without quarter, and hope to one day find love again. This is Aaron’s story …
Single Dad of Seattle, Aaron Steele isn’t a single dad at all. He’s a retired Navy SEAL whose sister just died, leaving him to raise her newborn daughter all by himself. Only he has no clue how to be a dad–let alone a single dad. He’s lost in a sea of diapers and bottles, late nights and exhausting mornings, all the while dealing with a failure from his last mission he just can’t shake. He needs help. He needs a nanny.
Professional nanny Isobel Jones has a heart of gold. She’s always willing to help out, no matter the cause. She spends her days with children making memories and her nights on the laptop making magic as a graphic designer. After hearing Aaron’s heartbreaking story, she jumps at the chance to help. But she never expected her new boss to be a blue-eyed Adonis with dog tags, who quickly begins to fuel her fantasies.
While the beautiful nanny is off-limits, she’s also a welcomed distraction. Aaron’s grief is still raw and he just knows he’s going to mess up this whole dad thing. Isobel’s never shied away from a challenge, and that’s exactly what Aaron is–a big challenge. He’s angry and stubborn, moody and confusing, and yet she knows deep down he’s capable of so much love.
Will Isobel living with the single dad help pull him out of his misery, or will Aaron let the turmoil inside him chase away perhaps the only person that could help him finally find happiness?
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you like single dads who take charge, this book is for you.
She wiped her wrist beneath her nose. “I was scared, and you helped me. You showed me compassion and care. You gave me strength when I had none. I wanted to replace the memories of last night with something better, with something good. I didn’t think that what we did last night would make it difficult for you to look at me the next day. Would make it difficult for you to be around me, to talk to me. Had I known it would, I wouldn’t have—” She turned her head and wiped beneath her eyes.
Oh, fuck.
An ache filled his chest.
In a couple of long strides, he ate up the distance between them, grabbing her by the shoulders and bending his knees until they were eye to eye. What stared back at him fucking killed him.
But he didn’t know what to say. An apology would be hollow and lackluster. Or at least that’s what he thought. An apology wasn’t enough. What he had to give her, what he had in his heart just wasn’t enough.
She blinked damp, spiked lashes at him, looking through him, seeing all of him.
As she went to speak, he crushed his mouth to hers, smothering her words. He released her shoulders, wrapping his arms around her waist and tugged her into his body. She groaned and gripped his T-shirt tight, his dog tags too. It was like she was holding on for dear life. But it was actually him who was holding on to her. Grappling for the last remaining threads of his sanity, of his humanity … of his soul. Sweeping through her mouth, his tongue swirled around hers, massaging and sucking, tasting a delicacy he knew he didn’t deserve.
He knew it was wrong. The whole thing between them was wrong. It’d been wrong the first time he’d kissed her, then the second and every time after that. But he couldn’t stop.
He wanted her to demand they stop, to see the man that he really was and realize she was better off walking away. That he couldn’t give her what she needed, what she deserved.
He also wanted her to beg him for more, to take what she could from him, what he could offer her, even if it wasn’t much.
She pushed him away, her chest heaving with heavy pants, her eyes bright and lips puffy. “What are we doing, Aaron?” She stepped away from him and turned around. “What do you want from me?”
Fuck if he knew.
Could everything and nothing be the right answer?
He wanted everything she had to give him, but he also knew that it was better to ask her for nothing, because how could you ask someone to give you all they had when you had so little to give in return?
She spun to face him. “I like you. I’m attracted to you. I want you. I also love my job. I’m in love with your baby, and I don’t want to lose Sophie.” She swallowed. “Or you. But if this is going to be too much for you, I can step back. I can just be the nanny.”
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
I don’t talk about this series much, but I should.
Have you read The Dark and Damaged Hearts?
The first romance book I ever started writing was Sex, Heat and Hunger (James and Emma’s story). I started writing it after our six-month, twelve-country backpack trip. I’d really gotten into reading romance while we traveled, and I read some great books, and some really not great books. However, it was those really not great books that prompted me to think, “I could do this. I could do better than this.”
I know what you’re probably thinking, “how arrogant!”
And in a way it was. But it was also what led to me to go back to my one true passion which was writing, so however terrible some of those books may have been, I will be forever grateful to them for helping me get back to what I love. And no, it doesn’t matter what the names of those terrible books were, that’s not the point. It’s also just fuel for an argument, because I KNOW a lot of people LOVED those books, so I’m not going to go there. Some people don’t like my books, and that is 100% okay. That’s the beauty of romance books, there is something out there for everyone!
James and Emma’s story took me over a year and a half to write. Mostly because I was just doing it in the evenings after work and wasn’t really serious about it. I just had a story in my head and needed to get the words down. There was no plan to publish or anything like that. Then, I finished their book and decided I wanted to give Justin and Kendra their own story. Only, since Justin and Kendra were already married in James and Emma’s book, I needed to go back five years and dig into their beginning which is why their book, Love, Passion and Power is book 1 and 2 in The Dark and Damaged Hearts Series.
I was almost finished Justin and Kendra’s story by the time I had my first daughter. And it was her birth and the complete and total upheaval of my life that prompted me to start writing Amy and Garrett’s story, True, Deep and Forever. Only, instead of going back even further in time to their beginning, I wanted to write about what happened after they said “I do.” Because life doesn’t end when you get married. The drama and dilemmas, the arguments and frustrations don’t immediately stop the moment you kiss at the altar and are declared “husband and wife.” If anything, all the trials and tribulations of being “bound” to someone else for the rest of your life, are just getting started when you slide on those rings.
It’s easy to see how much Garrett and Amy love each other. Their romance was intense from the very beginning. She was a bit of a wildling and he was clean-cut and trying to make a name for himself in the architectural world. Together, they grew up, got married and started a family.
But they don’t call it the “seven-year itch” for nothing.
Nobody really knows what goes on behind closed doors. Or what goes on behind a closed bedroom door.
So, I wanted to take a stab at writing a “beyond the happily ever after moment”
To show you the nitty gritty, the ups and downs of marriage and how kids, work and daily stressors can impact a couple.
Now, in no way is this a glimpse into my marriage. Not at all.
But I will say some of the conversations, the one-liners are similar to those I’ve had with my husband. And the way Amy thinks about herself, and some of the things she experienced as a new mother are reflective of how I was feeling at the time when I wrote it. The insecurities, the dark thoughts, the total disorganization and slow loss of self. This books was more than just a story for me. It was therapy.
Becoming a new mom is really fucking hard and if you know me and my writing, I don’t sugarcoat crap.
I actually had to tone things down, and cut a bunch of stuff, because in the end, I went too deep. But I still have those scenes, and they were still the therapy I needed.
You’d be surprised how much ends up on the “cutting room floor” or in the author world we call it “killing our darlings.” A lot of stuff gets cut because it ends up bogging down the story, not making sense, or not working well within the tone of the scene or book. But often those scenes or lines that get cut are some of our very best work. Our darlings. So have I them tucked away in a file, because in some ways they were like a journal for me. A way to express how I was feeling in an indirect way. It was almost like Amy was my safety veil, my nursing cover, or big baggy T-shirt to hide my mummy tummy. I’m not Amy, but I sure understand how she was feeling.
Like all the books in The Dark and Damaged Hearts series, True, Deep and Forever is a duet. In hindsight, I wish I hadn’t split them into duets, but live and learn. They originally hadn’t been separate books, but advice for various people and word-length had me tweaking the books and cutting them in half. Oh well. What’s done is done. I’m still really proud of them.
Anyway, here is a small excerpt of True, Deep and Forever: Part 1. I hope you enjoy it. 🙂
Excerpt
“What are you doing down here in the middle of the night … eating ice cream?” Garret asked, lazily sauntering into the kitchen and pulling out the chair next to me, knuckling sleep from his eyes. He wasn’t wearing anything besides his Fruit of the Loom boxers, and there was a healthy prickling of hair on his chin and scalp. Pillow creases ran across one side of his face, and the half-pitched tent in his pants told me he’d been having a racy dream.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I muttered, shoveling another spoonful of Turtles ice cream into my mouth, cringing immediately from the brain freeze.
Why’d I have to make my bites so bloody big?
“I’ve just got a lot on my mind.”
More like a ton on my mind. Most of that was Daxon van Camp, but a bit of it was also Christopher Weston and the thought of possibly running my own gallery. Could I do it? Since Christopher had offered me the job, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. What would I name it? How would I run it? How would I decorate it? What artists would I approach? The idea of running my own gallery, or running a gallery for someone, kept sleep on the run, so instead, like any person with an addiction, I turned to my vice.
Garret nodded methodically, a half-smile turning up at the corner of his mouth when he realized there was no way in hell I was going to offer him a spoon or give him mine. We might be teaching Henry to share, but I was a grown-up, and grown-ups don’t always have to share. “Is that good ice cream?” he asked. “I can’t decide if I like the Turtles or the Rollo better.”
“Turtles all the way!” I scoffed. “The pecans are what makes it. Plus, the chocolate is better quality.”
“I seem to remember other ways, besides gorging ourselves on chocolate, at”—he leaned over to check the clock on the microwave—“two-thirty in the morning that we spent our time. And we usually always fell asleep right after. That rush of dopamine, ain’t nothing better.”
I smirked and snorted a laugh through my nose. “I’m sorry, but as much fun as being thrown down on the table and ravished right now sounds, I just can’t.”
He dropped to his knees and brought his chair around, grabbing my leg and placing my foot on the seat. “No, you can’t. But I can. It doesn’t always have to be fifty-fifty. Sometimes you can just spread your legs and let me lick your clit until you scream.” He grinned like the devil. “Let me, Ames.” His eyes lifted as he hiked up my nightshirt to my waist. “Let me make my wife feel good.”
Eight years ago, Garret Banks swept me clear off my feet, catching me before I fell on my ass.
Our love was instantaneous, all-consuming and intense. We never thought the flame would die down, let alone extinguish.
We have everything we’ve ever wanted. Successful careers, a beautiful son and a rock-solid marriage. We’re living the dream. Right?
But how quickly dreams can turn into nightmares. Garret’s job is taking its toll on him, my whole world seems to be in shambles, and now I’ve got to deal with a blast from my past I thought I’d long buried. And that past wants answers—answers I’m not willing to give.
We grab quick and dirty sex when we can, but that just doesn’t seem to be enough and our marriage feels more tested and strained than ever before.
I was sure that I’d found my knight in shining armor, my happily ever after, my forever, but my marriage is being forced to bend more than it should—more than it can. So much so that I’m afraid it might just snap.
Dancing with the Single Dad audiobook is finally live.
I’m probably going to say this about each audiobook when it comes out, but I’m honestly so in love with the way Gregory Salinas and Erin Bateman brought Adam and Violet to life. Gregory nailed the slight southern twang, and gave Adam the perfect blend of shy but quiet alpha qualities I was going for. And Erin truly brought everything I envisioned Violet to be completely to life.
I’ll also admit that since this is only book two in The Single Dads of Seattle and I wrote it back in early 2019, it was like revisiting old friends when I listened to the whole story. There were scenes I forgot about, hilarious one-liners I forgot I’d wrote. In a lot of ways it was like reading a brand new book (well, not brand new, but darn close). I’ve written a lot of books since writing Dancing with the Single Dads, and since I’ve written SO MANY single dads it can be tough to keep track of them. I caught myself laughing a lot. I’d even say under my breath, “I’m fucking hilarious.” The dog would then turn around to look at me like I was crazy. I’d tell him to keep moving and finally crap somewhere.
I also forgot about how deeply emotional this book was. Violet deals with the loss of Jean-Phillipe and her father, and Adam is dealing with the end of his marriage. It’s some heavy shit. And those sex scenes!!! Again, I forgot about a lot of this book, including that college professor office scene. I’m sure my cheeks were bright red if anybody passed me while I was walking. Hopefully they just assumed I was flushed from exercise and the warm weather, and not the dirty words I’d written.
I loved Gregory as Adam so much that I’ve decided to cast him again. I’m confident that he will do an awesome job as Aaron Steele in Living with the Single Dad, Book 4 of The Single Dads of Seattle. I’ve also decided to cast Zachary Johnson (Mark from Hired by the Single Dad) as Zak for Christmas with the Single Dad, Book 5 of the The Single Dads of Seattle.
I can’t wait to hear what you guys think about the newest audiobook. I hope you love the narrators as much as I do.
The narrators for Saved by the Single Dad are hard at work bringing Paige and Mitch to life, so hopefully that audiobook can go live this fall.
Hanging up your dancing shoes isn’t so easy when you can’t let go of your former dance partner.
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to the Single Dads of Seattle. Ten sexy, single fathers who play poker every Saturday night, have each other’s backs, love their children without quarter, and hope to one day find love again.
This is Adam’s story….
Single dad of Seattle Adam Eastwood knows that dance school is just the thing for his precocious daughter, Mira. She already spends most days twirling around the house in a tutu and tiara, why not pay a professional to teach her how to do it properly? Only Adam didn’t account for that professional to be the Violet Benson from a very famous New York ballet company. Not only is Violet a natural beauty who floats more than she dances, but she’s the kind of woman Adam’s been searching for all his life.
Grieving the loss of her dance partner and boyfriend, Violet is done with performing on stage. How can she go on when the love of her life is no longer there to catch her? Deciding a change is best, she moves back home to Seattle, determined to fulfill their dream of opening up a dance school. It’s not until she’s asked to dance for Art in the Park that she realizes maybe she’s not quite ready to hang up her dance shoes. Would it be wrong to take the stage one last time? It must be wrong to feel what she feels when she’s dancing with Mira’s handsome father.
Adam’s wounds are still fresh from his divorce, and Violet’s dealing with a loss of her own, but somehow they keep winding up in each other’s arms with neither of them willing to let go. But it’s never easy to conquer the past. Will Violet let fear and grief keep her from her dreams? Or will Adam convince her that the show must go on and dancing with the single dad might just be the way for her to find her happily ever after?
Note: This book can be listened to as a stand-alone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, and, of course, as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliff-hanger or cheating. If you like single dads who take charge, this book is for you.
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He’s not her teacher anymore, but he can still teach her a few things.
Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Moms of Seattle. Three sexy single ladies who drink a ton of wine every Saturday night, bitch about life, have each other’s backs, are the ultimate mama bears, and hope to one day, just maybe find love again.
This is Celeste’s story …
Fifteen years ago, Celeste was eighteen, in love and on the honor roll.
Then she got pregnant.
Now, a widow and a single mom, she does her best to give her daughter, Sabrina, a good life.
But something is missing in her world.
Or someone.
Back when he taught her math, Celeste didn’t have a crush on Mr. Travis, but that doesn’t mean she’s not hot for teacher now or able to ignore her rampant fantasies.
All Max wanted to do was buy was a pair of jeans. However, when he bumped into his former student, Celeste, he ended up with so much more.
She’s not a kid anymore and it’s impossible for him to stay away from her. Even when he knows he should.
But an angry student is out to wreak havoc for them all. One who hates Sabrina, and wants to cause problems for Max and Celeste.
Like love, high school can be a battlefield, only neither of them knew just how dangerous it could be until the scandal explodes like a grenade. Celeste and Sabrina’s relationship hangs precariously in the balance, and Max isn’t sure if he should stay and fight for the woman he’s falling for, or get out of dodge before everything he’s worked so hard for goes up in smoke.
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, a sexy alpha male, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you liked my single dad series, then you’ll love this spin-off trilogy.
What’s better than a little dirty talk to get you in the mood?
Even if sex isn’t on the table at the moment (the kids are awake, in your face and cock blocking you like crazy), or you and your man are not even in the same room or building, let alone under the covers, or you’re just looking to spice things up a bit for fun, dirty talk can be a great way to open up the lines of communication between you and your partner. It can give you a chance to talk about what it is you want in bed, and also just get your engines revving for when you finally do get to carve out some alone time. And if you’re not comfortable saying those things out loud, because of little ears around, that’s what cell phones are for.
We don’t do it often, but when the hubby and I feel a lack of connection, we’ll send each other dirty, or sometimes sexy but also sweet messages throughout the day. I’ll even get creative and just send him a list of emojis and then he has to decipher what they mean. He’s pretty good at cracking that code, though, maybe I’m making it too easy on him. We all know what a peach and an eggplant mean …
One things for sure, the heroes in my books are expert dirty talkers. They know how to take their women from zero to sixty, shivering to sweaty in record time.
I thought it might be fun to pull a few dirty talk excerpts from some of my books to give you a real taste of just how raunchy and filthy these men can be.
**WARNING** May cause your computer/phone to catch fire and/or your panties as well. I suggest a tall glass of ice water, maybe a hand fan and your partner close by.
Shoot me a message, or comment below and let me know what your favorite one is, or if I forgot a dirty talking hero, or you just have a favorite filthy-minded man you want me to include. I’m totally open to a PART 2 of this post, so suggestions are welcome.
Tate McAllister – Quick & Dirty – The Quick Billionaire Series, Book 1
“Miss Ryan…” he purred with a grin. But then his face grew fierce and his brows narrowed. “Touch yourself.”
Biting my lip, I let one hand travel down to the V of my legs, two fingers snaked their way between the lips to my slippery heat. His eyes never left me, they just caught fire. Perhaps it was the glare from the sun overhead, or maybe it was just Tate, but when I looked into his eyes all I saw was a raging inferno. Lust, craving, desire, need. I began rubbing my clit, back and forth back and forth, enjoying the way the nub grew hard beneath my fingertips and my slit grew wet. I let two fingers slide into my channel and I started to fuck myself, enjoying the feeling of my own hand but also loving what it did to Tate, what I did to Tate.
“Smack it like you did before,” he ordered, the bulge in his pants betraying the composure his voice still held.
I let the grin slowly drift across my face and closed my eyes as I began delivering light, tingly little smacks to my clit and lips with the tips of my fingers. God, it felt good. A soft sting following by a spreading heat, pleasure born of the pain.
“Fucking hell,” he said with a snarl, sinking to his knees and shuffling over to my chair. He molded my body how he wanted it, lifting my legs onto the arms of the chair, spreading me wide. “My turn.”
Swallowing I leaned my head back and closed my eyes again. I’d never done anything like this before, never pleasured myself in front of anyone, never let a man take me in so many ways, in so many places. And yet Tate, Tate made me want to submit and let him have me as he pleased. I’d do anything for this man so long as he continued to make me feel the way I did now. Alive. Wanted. On fire.
“Continue with your breakfast,” he said as he blew cool air on to my wet, throbbing lips, denying me the touch I so desperately craved. “Eat, Parker, or else I won’t.” His eyes were all pupils now as he drew one sexy finger up between my folds. With his thumb and forefinger he gave my clit a mighty pinch. I yelped, so he did it again. “Eat!”
Warren McAllister – Quick & Reckless – The Quick Billionaires Series, Book 3
“Suck it, Silver,” he said with a low growl, urging her forward with his hand in her hair. She opened her mouth, welcoming him inside. But he didn’t ease his way inside. Instead he took control, gave no quarter and rammed his cock to the back of her throat. Silver’s eyes teared from the impact, but she managed to suppress her gag reflex and hollow out her cheeks. “That’s right, angel. Suck it hard. You love my cock, don’t you?”
She nodded, glancing up at him. “Mhmm.”
“You love it when I ram it inside your sweet little cunt, make you come all over my balls.”
Max Travis – Hot for Teacher – The Single Moms of Seattle, Book 1
She licked her lips, her eyes bright and challenging. “Are you going to take the matches away from me, Mr. Travis? Or are you going to teach me how to start a fire? Stoke it so it gets good and hot.”
She squawked as he flipped her around and pressed her back against his chest. One of his hands pressed against her neck, keeping her head on his shoulder, while the other one splayed across her flat abdomen. “Oh, I can teach,” he whispered next to her ear. “I think the greater question here is: Are you willing to learn?”
Her sharp inhale was encouraging.
“Do I need to muzzle you?” he asked, nipping at her earlobe and trailing his tongue down her neck.
“All depends.”
“Hmmm.” His fingers against her belly pushed beneath the waistband of her pants until he met with lacy panties.
“I can be quiet if I have to be,” she whispered, her chest lifting and dropping with each heavy breath.
“Are you normally?” He inched his fingers lower still over her panties until he found a damp patch. He tapped her clit with his middle finger, and she jerked in his arms.
“No. At least I didn’t used to be.”
Lifting his hand up, he pushed his fingers beneath the elastic of the lace where short, soft hair met his fingertips. He’d never been one who liked a bare pussy, and he could just imagine that the hair between her legs was the same as the hair on her head. The thought of pressing his nose there, inhaling her scent before he devoured her pussy, made his dick throb. He knew she could feel his erection against her ass. He wasn’t hiding it, and the way she wiggled her bottom across his lap said she felt it and she didn’t mind it at all.
His middle finger dipped down between her folds and gathered drops of her silky arousal before dragging it back up toward her clit, where he began to make small circles. Her hips gyrated, and she bucked up into his palm.
Chuckling, he released his grip on her neck. “Give me your mouth,” he demanded, relishing in the way she shivered in his arms from his words.
Jack Savage – Hot for the Handyman – The Single Moms of Seattle, Book 3
Her head thrashed back and forth on the counter, her ponytail hanging over the side, butt cheeks pressing into the other edge.
When the second wave of euphoria began to ebb, she lifted up onto her elbows with the little energy she had left. “Jack … you need to …”
He just kept going.
“Oh my God, stop. It’s too much.”
He shook his head, his blue eyes opening and tipping up to look at her, dark and searing. He drew her clit back into his mouth. “I’m not stopping until it looks like I’ve eaten a dozen glazed donuts, Bianca. You have more in you. I can taste it, and you taste fucking delicious.” He swept his tongue up her folds. “Haven’t tasted anything so fucking good in a long time, darlin’. Can’t stop now. Couldn’t if I tried.”
Her head shook quickly. “No, no, it’s not that. I have. It’s just … I mean, I washed myself, but I haven’t tidied things up down there in a while. I don’t go bare as a peach, but I like to keep the hedge, well, groomed, if you know what I mean.”
He rolled his eyes and flopped back down into his pillow before reaching for her hand from where it was still wrapped around his cock. “Don’t care about that. Like fruit, like topiaries, like the wild, untamed wilderness. Now climb up onto my face, woman. I’m hungry.”
Warmth and lust infused her.
“Lydia …” he urged, hauling her over him with all his rippling muscles. “Listen to your gut and climb up on my damn face. I’m like a hobbit. I’ll have my first breakfast in bed, then we’ll head to the kitchen and I can whip us up some waffles for second breakfast.” His nose wrinkled. “Unless you’d prefer pancakes.”
His nerdy reference to being a hobbit only made her like him even more.
Rex was the walking definition of not judging a book by its cover. Because when she’d ogled him when he went for his runs or walked out to his truck for the last couple of months, never in a million years would she have guessed that he was a closet nerd with a penchant for puzzles and Lord of The Rings.
“You could not be further from a hobbit,” she said, feeling her pussy pulse and tingle as he maintained eye contact with her and slowly wedged his free hand into the elastic of her panties.
His brows scrunched, and he made a mock dejected expression. “Are you saying I’m not courageous, brave and determined? Am I not a skilled listener? Do I not have good eyesight? I’d like to think that for my size, I’m still nimble and deft in my movements.”
She sniffed a laugh. “Okay, maybe you have the psychological characteristics, along with the good listening and eyesight, but I’m more saying that you don’t look like a hobbit. Aren’t they generally short, fat and slow?”
He gripped her by the hips with both hands, making her yelp. “Maybe some, but not this hobbit. Now give me my breakfast.”
James Shaw – Sex, Heat and Hunger: Part 1, 2 and Hot & Filthy – The Dark and Damaged Hearts Series, Books, 3, 4, 4.5
“You need to know that you are beautiful, drop-dead fucking gorgeous, and Tom and all those other jackasses that made fun of you are fools, and it’s their loss. You are exquisite, inside and out.” He came up behind me again, wrapping his big, strong hands around my body. “I find every inch of you sexy as hell, and I wouldn’t change a thing. Please, stop putting yourself under a microscope and looking for imperfections that aren’t there.”
AND
I could hear him trying to suppress a laugh. “All right. What are you wearing?” That dark and dangerous voice set jolts of warmth zinging through my body until they settled deep in my belly and spread into a growing and tantalizing heat between my legs.
“Oh, you know… I’m just sitting here doing some paperwork in my plaid mini skirt and white knee-highs. I was wearing my white blouse, but it got so hot in here that I had to take it off. Now I’m just in my lacy black bra.”
“School girl route, eh? Okay then. Well, why don’t you take your skirt off as well, cool off?”
I grinned. “Okay.”
“Are you stressed over all the homework you have to do? May I suggest a stress release?”
“So stressed,” I hummed. “Are you offering to help me out, Mr. Shaw?”
“Yes, I am.” He was all business.
“Oh, please, Mr. Shaw, I neeeeeed your help,” I cooed.
“All right, baby, first I want you to lie back and bend your legs. I need you to close your eyes and pretend your hand is me.”
“Okay.” I’d never had phone sex before, but I was rather excited to try. It was another thing that I had suggested to Tom only to be shut down and called a pervert.
“It’s been so long since I’ve tasted you, can you remind me of what I’m missing?”
I wasn’t surprised that I had started to get wet. His voice was enough to make me cream even without the dirty talk. I reached down and touched myself, sliding one finger inside and pumping it in and out while lightly brushing my clit. I brought it to my mouth and sucked my fingers.
“I’m so wet, James, wet for you. I taste… I taste salty and a little sweet and sour. My body is craving your touch. I need you inside me.”
“Slide your hand back down and pretend you’re me. You’re going to need to talk to me and tell me what you’re doing, so I can be right there with you. I want to dip my head between your thighs and nip at your inner lips. Would you like that?”
“Oh, God yes. Don’t stop. I need your tongue on me. And your fingers inside me.” I slid my fingers back down beneath my pajamas and started massaging lazy circles around my clit. “I’m touching myself, making circles around my clit, and it feels so… so good.”
“Good, baby, good. I’m stroking myself too. I miss your mouth. You give the best head. You’re able to take me in so deep. I love being able to feel the back of your throat with the head of my cock. It’s such a huge turn on. Suck my cock now.”
“I love having your cock in my mouth,” I sighed. “You’re so big, and it turns me on too. I need you to put your fingers inside me, suck my clit, and use your beautiful tongue to tease me. I need to come.”
“Oh, baby, I need you to come too.” My eyes were closed, and I was picturing everything he was saying. In my mind we were in the sixty-nine position, fucking each other with our mouths. I slipped another finger inside myself and started working the two in and out, scissoring them back and forth as I used the fingers of my other hand to circle my clit. “I want you to suck my balls baby. I loved it when you did that before, your tongue is so soft and your mouth so warm. Suck my balls.”
“Oh, God yes. I’m going to take one in my mouth slowly while I continue to work your cock with my hand. I love the sounds you make when I’m sucking you off, the moans and the grunts, it lets me know I’m doing it right. You taste so good. I take your other ball in my mouth and gently pull and massage it. They’re so big.”
“Your pussy is dripping wet. I’m having a hard time licking up all your sweetness. It tastes so good. I love your soft, bare pink pussy.”
“I need to deep throat you. Feel your big, thick cock hitting the back of my throat… it makes me wet.”
“Oh, baby, yeah, talk dirty to me.”
“I’m close, James.” It hadn’t taken long for my orgasm to start pounding on the door, screaming to be let free. His voice, his words, knowing that he was touching himself while I touched myself, it was hot and dirty and so damn sexy that it took every ounce of self-control for me to not just go off like a rocket.
“Me too, baby. Just finish yourself off, but be sure to make lots of noise. I need to hear you come.”
“Okay.” I was breathless; I’d put the phone on speaker and laid it next to my head on the floor seeing as both my hands were occupied.
“How many fingers do you have inside, baby?”
“Two.”
“Add a third.”
“Okay.” I continued to make circles around my clit with two of my fingers on my right hand as I slid a third finger inside from my left. I pumped furiously. My release was only seconds away. I needed another hand to pinch my nipples; I needed James. I gently pulled on my clit with my thumb and forefinger, and my climax erupted. “Oh, oh, ah, oh God, oh God, oh fuck James, yes, oh, oh.”
“That’s it, baby, yes… take it all, all the way in… fuck. Swallow everything. I give you. Yes, Emma, yeah, oh God, ahh, err, ah, ah, FUCK!”
S: You’re so fucking sexy, Harper. You know that? Carly’s upstairs with your sister, and you’ve left a key under the mat. I enter and lock the door. I hear the shower running. I remove my shoes and my jacket, then walk toward the bathroom. I open the door. It’s steamy inside.
What the heck was going on? Is that what he wanted to happen tonight? Did he want me to leave Carly with Quinn? I was so confused, but at the same time so freaking turned on. I flipped another waffle and poured on more batter, thinking about what I could text back that would even remotely add or match what he’d so eloquently and sexily described. But he didn’t give me a chance.
S: All I see when I walk into the bathroom is the outline of a body. Curves that won’t quit, beautiful creamy skin. Sexy dark hair hugging a long neck.
Was this sexting? Was Sam sexting me?
S: The door opens and suddenly I’m met with a vision. You. Your body glistening from the water while your beautiful brown eyes shine bright and eager. You hold your hand out to me and invite me in.
We were sexting! I’d never sexted before, but apparently Sam had, because the man knew how to seduce and arouse. I flipped another waffle and poured on more batter. Closing the iron, I picked up my phone.
H: But you’re dressed, so I order you to undress. While you remove your jeans and shirt, I begin to soap up my body. I pour body wash onto a bath pouf and lather myself up. My body is quickly covered in bubbles, all over my breasts, my belly, my pussy. I run my fingers over my nipples and they’re so hard.
S: I’m naked in seconds. I step inside the shower and you make room for me. You’re so wet.
H: So wet for you.
S: You’re good at this.
H: You’re better.
A giggle escaped me as I continued to make waffles and sip coffee. I could hear the dinosaur documentary in the living room and Carly randomly repeating the different species as the documentary discussed them. “Hadrosaur.” “Therapod.” I thought I heard her say, “Archaeopteryx.” The girl can’t pronounce her own name correctly, but she can enunciate Archaeopteryx like a pro.
My phone buzzed again.
S: Your body is even more luscious in person than behind the glass. I can’t keep my hands off you. I cup your breasts and let my thumbs graze your nipples. You gasp. I pull on them. You gasp louder. Dipping low, I pull one into my mouth and tug, biting and pulling on the tight little nub.
H: I drop the pouf and let my hands drift down. I find you hard.
S: I’m so fucking hard.
I bet he was. Damn how I wished I wasn’t standing in the kitchen making Saturday morning waffles as my toddler watched television in the living room.
H: I grip you and start to pump. You’re big.
S: Damn straight.
Well, I’d walked into that one. I burst out laughing in the kitchen, nearly burning the waffle. I wiped the tears from my eyes before texting him back.
H: Water beads on your beard, I lean forward to kiss it off, loving how the bristles scratch my lips and cheeks.
S: You’ll love it even more when they scratch you elsewhere.
Yes!
I squeezed my legs together and let my eyes close for a half a second from the delightful friction and the way the seam of my tight yoga pants brushed my clit. It wasn’t enough to get off, but it still felt pretty good.
H: I’m sure I will.
S: I drop to my knee and push your legs apart.
H: No. Kiss me first.
S: I will, but I get to pick the lips I kiss.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. This was absolute torture. He was texting back faster than I was and had an answer for everything. I flipped the last waffle onto the plate and shut off the iron, unplugging it while mindlessly gnawing on one of the cooler ones. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could continue with the dirty texting before I had to abandon my child and go take care of business in the bedroom. What on earth was Sam’s end game here?
S: Slowly, I part your lips and run a finger up through the center. You’re so wet and not just from the shower. Spreading you wide, I let my tongue dart out. I need to taste you, Harper. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since you walked through those playgroup doors six months ago.
Don’t forget to leave a comment and tell me which hero you think is the best at dirty talk. Also, don’t forget to let me know if you think another one of my heroes (who I haven’t included) has something really raunchy to say and I will make sure to do a PART 2 and include him next time!
Max might not be celeste’s teacher anymore, but he can still teach her a few things.
This is book one in my Trilogy spin-off, the single moms of seattle.
I love Max and Celeste’s story so much, and if you haven’t read it yet, what’s the hold up? It’s hilarious, it’s hot and Max is so swoon-worthy, make sure you have an ice-cold drink nearby when you read that closet scene–wowza!
If you HAVE read Hot for Teacher, drop me a comment or shoot me an email and let me know what you thought of it. I always love to hear from readers.
A bit of inside scoop on this one … Tracy’s Dog is a real thing and IT WORKS! Wow oh wow does it work!! Celeste and I have something in common *drops voice to a whisper* mine is also named Henry Cavill, shhhh.
He’s not her teacher anymore, but he can still teach her a few things.Welcome to Seattle, the Emerald City and home to The Single Moms of Seattle. Three sexy single ladies who drink a ton of wine every Saturday night, bitch about life, have each other’s backs, are the ultimate mama bears, and hope to one day, just maybe find love again. This is Celeste’s story …
Fifteen years ago, Celeste was eighteen, in love and on the honor roll.
Then she got pregnant.
Now, a widow and a single mom, she does her best to give her daughter, Sabrina, a good life.
But something is missing in her world.
Or someone.
Back when he taught her math, Celeste didn’t have a crush on Mr. Travis, but that doesn’t mean she’s not hot for teacher now or able to ignore her rampant fantasies.
All Max wanted to do was buy was a pair of jeans.
However, when he bumped into his former student, Celeste, he ended up with so much more.
She’s not a kid anymore and it’s impossible for him to stay away from her. Even when he knows he should.
But an angry student is out to wreak havoc for them all.
One who hates Sabrina, and wants to cause problems for Max and Celeste.
Like love, high school can be a battlefield, only neither of them knew just how dangerous it could be until the scandal explodes like a grenade.
Celeste and Sabrina’s relationship hangs precariously in the balance, and Max isn’t sure if he should stay and fight for the woman he’s falling for, or get out of dodge before everything he’s worked so hard for goes up in smoke.
**Note: This book can be read as a standalone. It includes lots of steamy scenes, cursing, a sexy alpha male, and of course as with all my books, this has an HEA and no cliffhanger or cheating. If you liked my single dad series, then you’ll love this spin-off trilogy.
His nostrils flared and he reached behind and fisted her ponytail causing her eyes to flare. “You’re playing with matches here, Celeste,” he said, struggling to keep his libido in check.
Her throat undulated heavily before her mouth split into a wide grin. “Am I?”
Tilting her head back he dipped his mouth to her neck and raked his teeth over the soft, thin creamy skin of her throat. He wasn’t quite sure what had come over him, but he could tell she liked his assertion. Her pulse picked up tempo along her neck and her breathing had begun to escape her mouth in quick pants.
She licked her lips, her eyes bright and challenging. “Are you going to take the matches away from, Mr. Travis? Or are you going to teach me how to start a fire?”
She squawked as he flipped her around and pressed her back against his chest. One of his hands pressed against her neck, keeping her head on his shoulder, while the other one splayed across her flat abdomen. “Oh, I can teach,” he whispered against her ear. “I think the greater question here: are you willing to learn?”
Her sharp inhale was encouraging.
“Do I need to muzzle you?” he asked, nipping at her earlobe and trailing his tongue down her neck.
“All depends …”
“Hmmm …” His fingers against her belly pushed beneath the waistband of her pants until he met with lacy panties.
“I can be quiet if I have to be,” she whispered, her chest lifting and dropping with each heavy breath.
“Are you normally?” He inched his fingers lower still over her panties until he found a damp patch. He tapped her clit with his middle finger and she jerked in his arms.
“No. At least I didn’t used to be.”
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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Secrets, assuming, and an a$$hole cat that gives zero f*cks
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