Today’s featured author on the Multicultural Romance Blog-A-Thon is Olivia Brynn! She has a giveaway and has free promo materials available for interested readers.
When the uniform comes off, there’s no holding back.
Jaycee Hanson has the best seat in the house in Psych 301. Right behind Tyler Johnson, ROTC captain and star of her erotic fantasies. But while lusting from afar, she’s come to one disappointing conclusion: He doesn’t seem to date outside his race.
When an accidental touch near the end of class turns into an impromptu foot rub, the rest of her wet-noodle bones are willing to go anywhere Tyler leads. She just never expected to be led into the nearest stairwell.
Tyler isn’t sure what to make of the smart, beautiful woman in his arms. If he’d had any idea Jaycee was interested in him, he would have made a move long ago. But each time he’s looked her way, she’s avoided his gaze.
A blissful afternoon at his place seems the start of something special—until objections to their relationship arise from an unexpected source. And Jaycee starts to wonder if the sizzling sexual chemistry is enough.
This book has been previously published.
Warning: Contains a semi-public quickie against a wall, impromptu picnics, and a hero who knows where to draw the line—and it’s not between him and his woman.
There he was.
Jaycee almost stumbled down the aisle to her seat. Three days a week during Psychology 301, she sat in the same chair in the auditorium. Partly because she was a creature of habit, but also because every day he sat directly in front of her, and with the sloped seating area, she had a great view. Today was Friday, the day of the weekly Air Force Reserve Officers’ Training Corps morning meeting. He still wore his dress uniform, which meant she wouldn’t retain one word of the psychology professor’s lecture in the next ninety minutes.
He looked good.
Okay, he looked great. She barely dropped into her chair before her knees gave out. Just about every man alive earned a few hottie points when he wore an Air Force uniform, but Tyler Johnson didn’t need extra points. He looked good whether he wore his Texas Tech sweats and a tee-shirt, blue jeans and an oxford, or hell, probably nothing at all.
Jaycee bit her lower lip to stifle the groan. She knew the man was built. Even though the starched uniform covered him from neck to toes today, the tee-shirt he wore two days ago had done nothing to conceal every muscle in his hard upper body. She closed her eyes for just a moment and savored that memory. His ebony skin stretched taut over corded muscles in his triceps, the one part of his body she could freely stare at from her vantage point. They flexed and bunched, his left hand curled around the paper in front of him as he scrawled.
The door near the whiteboard closed, and Jaycee had to open her eyes and rejoin the living. Professor Cordell checked his belt buckle and tugged on the sleeves of his tweed jacket, just as he always did before class.
“Who can tell me the role the hippocampus plays in an epileptic seizure?”
Cordell somehow knew where each class left off, and picked up two days later as if no time had passed. Those who had textbooks opened them and flipped through the chapters, the rest of the class pulled out their laptops, and a low hum of business filled the room.
There must be a bike race somewhere—the six bike team members who usually surrounded her and Tyler were absent, leaving a nice bubble of privacy in the upper corner of the auditorium. Now she could look her fill without fear of discovery.
Tyler thumbed through the pages of his thick book. His nails were neatly trimmed, his fingers long and slender. Their dark color intrigued her. What an erotic picture they would make against her white breasts. Or the way their naked legs would look twisted together. Against her white sheets. No…she’d need silky red sheets.
She squirmed in her seat, slipped off one flip-flop so it wouldn’t accidentally fall off, then crossed her legs. Her bare toes came so close to the crisp collar of his shirt she could feel the heat coming off him. Yes, the shades of their skin complemented each other.
If she wiggled her toes, she would brush the crisp shoulder seam on his uniform. She wouldn’t dare, but it was tempting. She licked her lips and stuffed down a groan.
“So, without a hippocampus, one might have a difficult time following a map. The spatial memory storage of that area is vital…”
Even though she wasn’t paying attention to class, she was glad Tyler’s focus was on the man in tweed, and not on her. She’d be mortified if he knew she drooled over him during class. Tyler didn’t date women like her. She’d seen him on campus, most recently in the gym, in the arms of a very tall, very athletic and very beautiful black woman. Two weeks before, she’d caught sight of him at a local restaurant with two friends and three women. Not one of them white. She knew she wasn’t his type, and he was probably out of her league, but that didn’t stop her from these Monday-Wednesday-Friday fantasies.
Professor Cordell stopped talking and turned his back on the class to write on the dry-erase board. Collectively, the class bent over their desks to take notes. Whenever Cordell wrote on the board, it was bound to be on the coming exam. Jaycee halfheartedly wrote a few sentences down, while keeping one eye on the man in front of her.
As soon as the professor moved aside, she took a picture of the whiteboard with her cell phone.
Better than notes anyway, and she could focus on the real reason she showed up to class. She chewed on her pen cap and stared at Tyler.
The skin on the back of his neck begged for her touch. What she wouldn’t give to press her lips there. Then move up to his earlobe. Would he be the ticklish type, or would he shudder with pleasure at each breath? She’d honor each of his facial features with her lips. She shifted again, managing to edge an inch closer to him in the process.
Cordell droned on. Tyler set his pen down, then clasped his hands together and extended both arms out in front of him. He cocked his head from one side to the other, then arched his back over the seat of the chair and stretched his arms out to the side. His routine had come a little early today. Normally this display occurred five minutes before class ended.
When his shoulder brushed her bare toes, Jaycee sucked in a breath and held it. She didn’t move. She didn’t dare. These fleeting touches were like tiny surprise parties. She savored his warmth, even though only two toes were lucky enough to touch Tyler Johnson.
Slowly but deliberately, Tyler turned his head, just enough to glance over his navy-clad shoulder. Jaycee froze, not wanting him to catch her accidental caress but afraid to move now to draw attention to it.
He didn’t raise his eyes to hers, but his lips did curl in amusement before he again faced the professor.
Jaycee’s heart raced. He almost looked at her. He almost smiled at her.
Good freaking God. You’re acting like some wallflower virgin. He laughed at your toes for Christ’s sake. Jaycee took a deep breath and tried to find her center. Outgoing, physically fit and a pretty good B student, she really had no reason to lust after this one particular guy for half a semester. Two of her sorority sisters had friends that they each insisted would be a “perfect match”, and that sexy geek in chemistry lab was practically begging for her phone number. She wasn’t holding out for Tyler, but it was really hard to get excited about any other man when this Adonis was sitting in front of her.
She’d never before lost her self-control over a simple grin aimed at her foot, but damn. That was about the hottest thing she’d ever seen. If she weren’t in a room full of people, she’d fan herself. A quick glance proved that she was the only student in la-la land. Everyone else, including Tyler, was focused on Professor Cordell and his speech on brain function. For some reason the fact that she could indulge in her fantasies with fifty others in the room only excited her more. Maybe she had some unexplored exhibitionist tendencies.
Her toes were still pressed against his shoulder blade. He hadn’t moved away, and there was no way he couldn’t feel the pressure. Especially when she curled her toes, brushing the fabric of his jacket. In fact, she could have sworn that he leaned back just a bit. She pinched her eyes closed, soaking in the sensation. Tyler leans into her touch. Her breath turned shallow and her heart thumped heavily. She opened her eyes to find the room as it was, completely mundane and normal. It seemed odd that she was the only one in the room who felt like crawling out of her skin and into Tyler’s.
Feeling suddenly bold, she slipped her big toe into the crease beneath his thick arm. She meant to pull away just as quickly as she dipped in and pretend it was accidental, but he clamped his arm over her foot, securing it to his side.
Jaycee swallowed, waiting for him to lean away from her impromptu game of footsie, or even to get up, give her a dirty look and move the empty seat beside him. Instead, he laid down his pen and reached beneath his arm to grasp her foot.
She jumped, an involuntary movement that she instantly regretted, but he didn’t release his hold. Four strong warm fingers cupped the ball of her foot and pulled it farther beneath his arm, until her entire foot was swallowed by his massive biceps. While his thumb traced each knuckle on top, Jaycee sank into her seat, pleasure washing over her at the mere touch. She glanced around. Her fellow students paid her no mind. The few that were close enough to see her foot tucked beneath Tyler’s arm probably wouldn’t be able to tell anyway, as close as these seats were. He slid one long finger up the sensitive curve of her arch and Jaycee barely restrained her moan.
Oh my God, Tyler Johnson is touching me. Jaycee melted into her chair. She etched each sensation deep into her mind, vowing never to forget these few moments, knowing that she would pull the memory out in the future to keep her warm on a lonely night.
At Ease, available 8/18/15, Preorder Today:
Olivia Brynn is the very saucy alter ego of romance author Alanna Coca. Olivia was the one who lured Alanna into trouble as a child. She also would have been the one to get her mouth washed out with soap.
Since controlling Olivia wasn’t as easy as she thought, Alanna decided to set her alter ego free with Olivia’s first book,For a Price, a story about one woman’s journey to sell her virginity. Other books followed, earning five-star reviews and bestselling status. Alanna realized what fun, Olivia was writing sexy romances without censor.
Olivia writes contemporary erotic romance near a window where the view of the Rocky Mountains beckons her.