Megan Morgan is a multi-published award winning urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and erotica author from Cleveland, Ohio.
Bartender by day and purveyor of things that go bump in the night, she’s trying to turn writing into her day job so she can be on the other side of the bar for a change. Hailing from the often-wintry shores of Lake Erie, she lives with an attention-seeking cat and her adult son, both of which shed too much.
Amazon Page: www.amazon.com/Megan-Morgan/e/B00LBHTUSE/
One Night In Cleveland
Chef Matt Fattore lives a clean and lawful life—so he doesn’t expect to meet the woman of his wet dreams by being arrested by her. When Lieutenant Caylee Benton of the Cleveland PD mistakes him for a wanted burglar, Matt finds out fantasies sometimes land right in your lap—and frisk you.
Sparks fly despite the misunderstanding and Matt decides to take a chance and ask her out—and maybe, coax her into bed. But Caylee is more than just a beautiful woman with a badge and a gun. While Matt is falling in lust with her, she’ll become his hero, too.
Matt is about to spend the wildest twenty-four hours of his life in Cleveland, and if he’s lucky, he’ll be in handcuffs by the end of the night.
Excerpt © Megan Morgan
Despite all the coffee they’d consumed, they fell asleep. He figured she’d had an early morning and frankly, so had he. If he hadn’t been wrongfully arrested he would have pedaled home and snoozed for a few more hours before work.
After stretching the knots out of his back and neck, he rolled toward her again and carefully draped his arm over her side. She stirred and opened her eyes.
“Morning,” he said softly.
She jerked her head up and looked wide-eyed around the room, then back at him. The look of alarm on her face was comical, and cute.
“Oh, gosh.” She ruffled her hair. “We fell asleep. What time is it?”
He chuckled. “I’m messing with you. It’s only midnight. You gotta work tomorrow morning?”
She relaxed. “No. I arranged it so I don’t have to go in until the afternoon. You’re not the only one who made exceptions for our date.”
He rubbed the sumptuous curve of her hip. He needed to commit every inch of her to memory for his fantasies later.
“I’m sorry I fell asleep.” She yawned. “How tacky of me.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t mind.”
She rubbed her eyes, then yanked her hand back and grimaced at her fingers. “Oh crap, forgot I had makeup on.” Her mascara was smeared around her eyes now, but she still looked beautiful. Maybe even more so, a little imperfect and rumpled.
“You want to watch some more Netflix?” he asked. “I can make a snack, too.”
She pressed a hand to his chest, where his shirt was undone and open. “I feel like you’re trying to keep me prisoner here as long as possible.”
“Guilty. Guess you’ll have to arrest me for kidnapping.” He kissed her.
Long, slow, lazy kisses in bed were among his favorite things. The burn inside him was hard to ignore though, a hum of arousal deep in his core that had started earlier today and was yet to be fully quenched. Even after their encounter in the car, he’d been thinking about her all day, wondering what she tasted like, wondering how it would feel to be inside her.
She drew back a little, sliding her hand lower on his chest before slipping it inside his shirt. “I don’t feel like getting up just yet,” she whispered. “Is that okay?”
Her roaming hands did nothing to dampen the fire inside him. Her fingers, soft as silk, skimmed over his bare skin, making him tingle. He blessed those hours spent at the gym, working off his anxiety and frustration with life.
He rubbed his hand up and down her side, following her curves. She undid the rest of the buttons on his shirt.
Since she was feeling him up, he slid his hand onto her breast as well, over her dress. The soft swell filled his palm, a nice handful. She arched her back, pushing into his hand and clearly not protesting.
Their kisses grew deeper, wetter, more heated. Matt’s senses were deluged in the sweet tangling of tongues and the click of teeth, in her delicate touch and her firm body underneath his hands. She stole his breath and he drew hers into his lungs in return.
She caressed his stomach beneath his shirt, right above the waistband of his pants, making his ab muscles tighten and quiver. He squeezed her breast, not too hard, but enough to really feel her. He kept his lower body a respectful distance from hers, because things were definitely stirring down there.
She broke the kiss and tilted her head back. “This certainly isn’t behaving after all the protesting I did, is it?”
“You don’t have to behave if you don’t want to. You’re a grown woman. A beautiful, sexy, grown woman.”
She bit her lower lip. “Maybe I really don’t want to…”
“Maybe I don’t want to, either.”
Their mouths clashed again. Who made the rules? Who said you had to wait to get to know somebody first? Some small part of his brain, slowly being crushed by desire, squeaked out no, they must behave, propriety demanded it. This was the sort of thing hormonal teenagers did.
Well, he was young at heart.
He rolled partially on top of her, and her hands were suddenly all over him, under his shirt, up and down his sides, over his back, his shoulders, his chest. He ached to touch her skin beneath the perilously thin fabric of her dress. He reached down and caressed her bare thigh, to get a small taste.
She sighed into his mouth when he pushed his hand under her dress—not between her legs, just onto her hip. He gripped the soft plump flesh and pulled her closer.
She giggled. “Oh God.” She squeezed his ass in return. “You’re right. We’re adults. We can do whatever we want.”
He kissed her neck. She tilted her chin back, making the tendons of her throat stand out taut. He nibbled at one, all the way down to the hollow of her throat, where her perfume was still strong and made his head spin.
She raked her fingers through his hair as he moved lower. He stayed above her clothes but nuzzled into her cleavage. She giggled again.
“The only way I’m going to be able to resist,” he said, muffled into her breasts, “is if we get out of this bed, right now.”
Neither of them moved to get up. He slid off her and slumped on his side, fighting the urge to climb fully on top of her.
“Maybe you should get your handcuffs,” he said. “Keep me from being all grabby-hands.”
“I don’t just carry them around in my purse, you know. Is that what you’re into?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never tried anything like that.” He grinned. “But I could.”
She touched his stomach again, his abs jumping and tightening. She then moved lower. “Maybe I’m the one who needs handcuffs.” She gripped him through his pants.
“Okay,” his voice caught. “This is getting harder.”
“It certainly is.”
He put his hand back on her thigh and slid it upward, under her dress again, this time directly between her legs. She opened them. He pressed his palm to the silk crotch of her panties. They were soaked.
She gasped and squeezed him through his pants. He throbbed in her hand, his underwear growing damp as well.
“Okay,” she said, breathy and close to his lips. “Nothing wrong with a little dry humping and heavy petting, right? Just like in high school?”
“I think you were a little more innocent in high school than I was.”
She laughed, but it dissolved into a soft moan as he rubbed the heel of his hand against her. Somehow, this was naughtier than getting naked and going at it—her squeezing and stroking him through the layers of his pants and underwear, him grinding his hand against her panties. She yanked his shirt off his shoulder with her free hand and raked her nails across his skin.
“Oh, yeah…” he whispered, closing his eyes.
May your days be merry and bright and your nights be smutty and hot.
MAKE THE SEASON MERRY
I’m a big fan of the holidays because I live in the northern Midwest of the United States where our winters are long, bleak, and blindingly cold. It’s exciting when we get the occasional snowstorm or even a blizzard, but 90% of our winter is just huge piles of compacted snow on the ground, blistering cold wind, and gray dreary skies. The holidays are a bright fun time before we march into the frozen wasteland of January, February, and March.
In the US, our ‘holiday’ season starts in November with Thanksgiving. So we have two months of celebration before the darkness sets in. When I was married and my son was young, we lived in a rural area in a big Victorian house, and I went absolutely wild with Christmas decorating. I think I got this from my mother, who decorated like a fiend for even the smallest of holidays—I mean, she went so far as to decorate our house for Valentine’s Day. My copious Christmas decorations were heck of a lot of work to put up, and a heck of a lot of work to take down, but the results were worth it.
Now that I’m divorced, my son is an adult, and we live the cosmopolitan life in a big city (read: a small apartment), I don’t decorate as much, though my son and I do put a little tree up each year. It’s cute and festive, and a lot less work.
That doesn’t mean my love of Christmas and all the decorating that comes with it is gone. My city is quite lavish about decorating public spaces for the holidays, so I still get to enjoy the sights. There’s something refreshing about seeing the decorations and knowing you’re not the one responsible for putting them up and taking them down—you can just enjoy them!
I also have a big party on Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve for my friends, with loads of food and cheer (that means booze).The holidays are about family, and sometimes you also make a family out of the people around you. I love having my friends over to eat, drink, and be merry.
The holidays also give me an opportunity to indulge in two things I love: baking and scented candles. Pretty much from the time the leaves start to fall my house is filled with scented candles, creating a warm glow and a yummy scent—I love candles that smell like baked goods. On special nights, I turn off the lights and illuminate the space with only candles. I think this goes along with the idea of ‘lighting up the season.’
You think I’m kidding about my candle obsession?
I love baking too, so everybody who knows me looks forward to all the goodies I provide them with during the holidays. My co-workers are drooling and rubbing their hands together in anticipation as I write this. How amazing it was for me to discover Pinterest, where I can get all kinds of new baking recipes! I’m a cookie and cupcake kind of gal, but I’ve been experimenting and branching out into other baked goods as well.
I love the holidays, even if I dislike the weather around this time of year. Maybe I should move to the southern hemisphere, so I can enjoy the holidays and not freeze to death…
Happy Holidays one and all!
May your days be merry and bright and your nights be smutty and hot.
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