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Steel Lust by Jayne Kingston
Lust for Life Book Two

Take one bombshell photographer, add a sexy body piercer slash rock singer and toss in a broken down car for good measure and what do you get?

Nights of passion hot enough to melt even the coldest Midwestern winter.

Joy has been let down by her share of musicians, but Leo quickly shows her he’s nothing like the rock star types she’s known before. Coming to her rescue—and then treating her to a night of toe-curling erotic pleasures—are just the first of many things that keep her running back for more. And once Leo’s had a taste of the spicy-sweet daughter of Chicago blues legends, he knows a handful of mind-blowing nights with her are not going to be enough.

Now he just needs to convince her their age difference, a closely guarded family secret and one act of chivalry too many aren’t more than their passion can survive.

Genre: Erotic Contemporary Romance
Content/Theme(s): Musicians, Photographer
Release Date: November 1, 2013
Publisher: Ellora’s Cave

Excerpt & More

Purchase links: Ellora's Cave Amazon ARe Kobo B&N

Excerpt:
Joy could see why Jamie had turned her down when she’d hit on him at Dover Mark’s tattoo shop last fall. He and his girl Leni had It—that unnamed thing everyone in the world was searching for, whether they knew they were searching for it or not.

They played off one another with the ease of a couple who’d been together a long time, even though she thought Jamie had told her they’d only been together a few months. They made the room hot simply because they were sitting next to each other. And once or twice she’d caught them exchanging a glance and felt as though she was peeking through the keyhole of their bedroom door.

Not that she’d stopped in their dingy city to do anything as sordid as scope out the competition. She didn’t need to go after another woman’s man, nor would she. She’d been on both ends of that scenario more times than she cared to admit. Stealing another woman’s man for sport, even if it was just for a night, was a thing of the distant past.

She and Jamie had hit it off back when he’d tattooed her in Chicago. The man was sexy as hell, so she’d propositioned him. He’d declined so gracefully she thought he should write a book on how to turn a woman down. He’d come across as genuinely sorry about turning her down without leaving her hoping he’d change his mind, and he hadn’t made her feel like an idiot for asking either.

They’d talked a lot about art while he’d been tattooing her, and he’d been interested in her photography as well, so they’d stayed in touch. Now she had a job opportunity she was excited about and what she hoped were going to be several new subjects for her next book.

And the new and improved Leonardo was a million times sexier, even if he didn’t remember meeting her or her assistant. And why would he? In the year and a half that had passed since then he’d probably been through dozens, if not hundreds, of women.

Although…he didn’t seem like the same man she’d met before. Back then his hair had been buzzed short and he’d had a long, scraggly goatee along with the hollow-eyed, pasty-skinned look of seriously heavy partier.

This Leonardo was so drastically changed she’d thought she was seeing a different man when she walked through the shop’s doors and saw him behind the counter. Her reaction to him—to sitting next to him, breathing his scent and catching him stealing glances at her with those eyes—was a hundred times more powerful as a result.

She wanted to climb into his lap and bury her fingers in his shoulder-length, pale gold waves. She wanted to watch his ocean-blue eyes darken to the color of a stormy sea as she wrapped herself around him and whispered his name in his ear.

Leonardo.

It practically begged to be spoken in her mother’s thick Spanish accent.

Lee-oh-NAR-doh.

God, it was delicious. He was delicious.

He smelled vaguely of clean wool and campfire and drank the coffee shop’s darkest brew black. There were wide silver rings on the middle finger of his left hand and one each on the first and third fingers of his right. Thick stainless steel hoops pierced the conchae of his ears and circled through half-inch-wide gauges in his earlobes.

And she was just about dying to find out if he was also tattooed under that heavy cable-knit, torso-hugging black sweater and dark jeans he was wearing. He’d pushed up his sleeves earlier, but she didn’t see anything but the gold dust of his arm hair and a sprinkling of caramel-colored freckles on his forearms. Freckles she was dying to taste.

She had to have at least ten years on him, but what did that mean these days? It wasn’t as though she was in the market for a husband. She’d resigned herself to never being married, or even finding someone who wanted to commit to her, years ago, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have a little fun.

When he did finally join the conversation, he was not at all what she remembered about the man she’d met in Chicago. Back then he’d been the larger-than-life rock and roll frontman on stage and all cock and swagger off. The man sitting next to her now was soft-spoken with a clear, deep voice and a quiet calm that was making her toes curl.
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Purchase links: Ellora's Cave Amazon ARe Kobo B&N

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