Welcome to What-To-Read Wednesday. Each week our Fiction Vixen reviewers will tell you about a book they think you need to read ASAP. This week the FV crew recommends:
Play by Kylie Scott
Every now and then a book comes along that we all fight to review. In June of last year we reviewed Lick by Kylie Scott and one of the secondary characters that really stood out was Stage Dive’s drummer Mal Ericson. Play is book two in the Stage Dive series and Mal’s book. I’m sure if you are around the romance community you have heard of Mal by now because he is taking us all by storm.
We decided to take the quote approach for our review. If these quotes don’t make you want to grab this book, then there is something wrong with you. We would be remiss if we didn’t mention how awesome Anne is too, she really is….its just that Mal steals the show here.
Sit back, read our quotes and then go buy this book. Seriously. You won’t regret it.
“You’re such a nice girl, Anne” Mal projected for the sake of our neighbors. “I really like you a lot.”
“Seriously? That’s your version of sex talk?”
“Let’s hear you talk dirty, then. C’mon.”
I shut my mouth. It stayed shut.
“Coward.” Mal turned his face to the wall we shared with Nate and Lauren. “You taste so fucking good.”
“Like what?” I asked breathlessly, thigh muscles tightening. The man was lucky I didn’t just attack him with my vagina. “What do I taste like?”
“Well like honey and cream and…I dunno, bread?”
I scrunched up my nose. “Bread?”
“Yes. Sexy bread that I could eat all the time because you are so delicious and full of wholegrain goodness.”
“Whatever you’re imagining, it’s bigger.”
“ I’m not imagining anything.”
“I’m serious, it’s basically a monster. I cannot control it.”
“You’re pretty much going to need a whip and a chair to tame it, Anne.”
I’d barely gotten used to him half naked and now he was throwing Armani at me. I never stood a chance. Prostrating myself at his feet was the obvious reaction to such a heavenly sight.[…]
[…]How I managed to remain upright I have no idea. Forget Bond and his ilk. I’d take a drummer in a suit any day of the week.
With a low wolf whistle, Lauren looked him over. “Malcolm. Who’s a pretty boy?”
“Only pumpkin is allowed to objectify me,” he said, straightening his cuffs. French cuffs with cufflinks.
“Fuck me,” I muttered, then smacked a hand over my mouth. It was an idiot determined to make an ass out of me.
“Anytime.” He winked. The liar.
“No. You had your chance to communicate with me and you chose not to. You let this relationship down. Feel bad, Anne.” His breath tickled my still sensitive pussy. It made feeling bad damn hard, frankly. Impossible when he flicked my clit with the top of his tongue. My hips shot off the mattress but his hands were there, holding me down. “Hello, Anne’s clitoris. It’s me, Malcolm, your lord and master.”
“Oh, god, no.” I covered my face with my hands. “Please don’t.”
“Shh. This is a private conversation.” He brushed hot feverish kisses up and down the lips of my sex. My stomach tensed so hard it hurt. “Look at you all pretty, pink and excited. Don’t worry, I’ll look after you.”
“Why’d you put my hand down your panties while I was asleep? What’s that about? he mumbled. “Christ woman. You’re out of control. I feel violated.”
“I didn’t do that, sweetheart. That was all you.”
He groaned again.
Damn, he was good. I’d been professionally sullied without a single item of clothing removed.
Someone knocked on the wall from Nate and Lauren’s side. “You two okay?”
“We’re fine,” I called back. “Thanks. Carry on.”
I could hear barely subdued laughter. My face felt hot. Flame worthy hot. You could probably cook a steak on that sucker. Crap, everybody would hear about this. And I do mean everybody.
“They’re mocking us,” I said. “Nonsense. We just fucked so hard we broke your bed. They wish they were us. The natural order of sexual status has been restored.”