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An Excerpt From: MICAH BLUE
Copyright © AMARINDA JONES, 2008
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave Publishing,
Inc.
Just as she hurried to the curb, Micah’s felt her ankle
give out from under her as her foot hit a rock in the grass.
“Oh crap,” she cursed as she landed hard on her ass, the
garbage bin toppling over with her. Micah looked up as she heard the truck
door open and close. It was always good to have someone be a part of your
embarrassing moments—not.
“Hello, sugar.”
Sugar? Micah squinted at the man mountain coming
at her.
“Zorro?” she gasped as he knelt down beside her.
The build, the hair, the smile, that smell. She had always wondered why a
mask baffled television characters. Now she knew. It was all an illusion of
what you wanted to believe. When the mask came off it was reality. “What
are you doing here? Are you following me?” Micah realized how silly that
sounded even as she said it.
“Yeah, I specifically asked to have the garbage run
where a sexy pink-haired woman lived.” Ned smiled at her confusion. “Are
you hurt?”
Yep, that was a smile that could have a woman strip
off her clothes in a heartbeat.
“Thankfully I have a fat ass.” She mentally slapped
herself. Okay, so he was charming and hot. Big deal. It was the best
sex of her life. Whatever. He was still a stranger and stranger sex
was not supposed to go beyond just that.
“Nah, you don’t have a fat ass, sugar you have a hot
ass.”
Micah looked at him. He was trouble with a capital Uh-oh.
Tall, hot and lickable. Luckily she was sitting
or she would have fallen down. Darkly handsome had its place but
boy-next-door auburn hair, shoulders that went on forever and a smile that
was pure sex was irresistible to Micah.
“That’s not polite conversation with a stranger.” Hot
ass? Hers? She wasn’t sure if she should be more offended or
flattered at his words.
“We’re hardly strangers. I was inside you last night as
you screamed and begged me to fuck you.”
“Gosh, how romantic you make it sound,” Micah replied
cynically as she tried to get up but her ankle refused to cooperate. She
looked into the deep brown eyes of the man on his knee before her. They
were the sort of eyes that could entice you into doing anything. She felt
the moisture pooling between her legs and her heart pounding with
possibilities. Get a grip woman.
“You twisted your ankle.”
“You think?” Micah arched her eyebrow at the obviousness
of his statement as a sharp pain shot thought her anklebone. “I’ll be
right. You go about your business, Zorro.”
“You’ve become my business now.” Ned put one arm under
her knees and another around her back.
“What are you doing?” Micah asked in alarm as she felt
herself hoisted her into the air. She clutched at his shoulders, reminding
herself once more of how she clutched him to her last night. Her fingers
trailed into the hair at the back of his neck.
“I am being all gallant and carrying you—and no, you
don’t weigh a ton.” He smiled at her surprised look. “Women always worry
about their weight. I have no idea why. Real men like curves and you have
them to burn, sugar,” Ned told her as he started walking up the driveway to
her house. “And I am ticklish so stop that.”
“What?” The pounding of my heart? My hormones jumping
for joy at the thought of an incoming penis?
“Playing with my hair.”
“I am not.” Okay she was but she wasn’t about to stop
just because he said so. That would look like was following orders which
she never did. Besides, she had to put her hands somewhere. Micah looked at
his tattoo on his biceps. It was a navy blue snake entwined around a skull.
It did not scare her so as much as excite her. There was something sexy
about a hard-bodied man with a tattoo. She had not seen his upper half
naked last night. The lower half had been breathtaking enough. Micah
wondered if he had more artwork.
“You have a tattoo.”
Ned laughed at the obviousness of her words.
“I love smart, sexy women. I have others I’d be happy to
show you.”
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