And since I’m in such a cheerful, happy mood, I’m going to talk about angry sex today because, well, what’s more fun to write, read, watch or even maybe participate in than good old fashion rip-your-clothes-off, kiss-your-lips-bruised, ride-you-till-you-whimper angry sex? I confess, I don’t understand the psychology of it, but it certainly does seem that sex is never more sizzling than when it’s riding the tail-end of anger. (No pun intended.) I’ve often heard that hate and love are much more closely related than we can imagine. Certainly they elicit a lot of the same responses in our bodies.
There’s something primal about angry sex, something that takes us back a little closer to our animal nature. There’s nothing logical, nothing thought-out, nothing resembling a plan of action. It all just sort of slaps us in the face one second, and the next second, we’re all over each other. That in itself can’t help but be a turn-on. Angry sex is not the place of foreplay, nor is it the place of lingering to titillate. Angry sex is wave-crashing, bone crunching coming together that defies our civilized selves and goes straight in for the jugular. When sex comes so unexpectedly and in such an overpowering way, how can the response be anything but breath taking?
And from the standpoint of a story, what’s left in the wake of angry sex is what grabs the reader by the collar with a brisk wake-up slap on the cheeks and an adrenaline rush that’s absolutely rabid to know what happens next. Oh yes, I do love angry sex!
Kendra Davis and Garrett Thorne – the younger brother of business tycoon, Ellison Thorne – are experts in angry sex. They don’t like each other. As Garrett puts it, Kendra has a slap that would knock a bull moose down if she were angry enough. And Garrett is pretty good at making her angry enough. But then she’s always happy to return the favour.
When Garrett’s not pretending to be Ellis’s unemployed, ne’er-do-well brother, he’s secretly writing popular romance novels under the name of Tess Delaney. He’s perfectly happy leading his double life until Tess Delaney is nominated for the coveted Golden Kiss Award for romance writing, and her true identity is in danger of being exposed. As much as Garrett hates to admit it, the solution to his problem is PR person extraordinaire, Kendra Davis, who grudgingly agrees to play the role of Tess Delaney for the award ceremony. Add to the mix of angry sex and confused fans a dangerous stocker, and let the adventure begin.
Here is a little teaser.
He had just pulled out his cell phone to call again, when he looked up to find Kendra standing at the bar with a drink in her hand, and his knees nearly gave from relief. One of the designer fashion boys was chatting her up. And immediately the relief was replaced with something a lot more tetchy. He shoved past a knot of Goths who mumbled and gave him a few nasty looks, but he was way past being polite at the moment.
‘The Porsche outside, it’s mine,’ Fashion Boy was telling Kendra, preening with one hand while he held a beer in the other. ‘Bought it with my bonus from last year. It’s one helluva ride.’ He moved in closer. ‘If you’re interested.’
Both he and Kendra spoke at the same time.
The man raised his hands and backed away, and Garrett grabbed her by the arm, none-too gently and marched her toward the door. ‘Where the hell have you been?’ He said, half shoving her out into the warm summer air, past the curious gaze of the bouncers.
‘What do you mean where have I been?’ She yanked her arm away. ‘I was dancing. I looked around and you were nowhere to be found. So I went to the bar to wait. I figured that would be the first place you’d look for me, and why are you so angry?’
‘Why am I so angry? You scared the shit out of me, that’s why I’m so angry.’ He jerked her closer to him. ‘One minute you’re dancing with me and the next minute the incredible hulk steps in between us and then you’re gone.’
‘Where are we going?’ she said, pulling back.
He jerked her forward. ‘Home, damn it. We’re going home where it’s safe.’ He half marched, half dragged her through the parking lot across the road and to the edge of the park before she gave him a shove, pulled away from him altogether and turned on him.
‘Fuck you, Garrett! I haven’t done anything wrong and even if I had, you’re not my father. I’ll go home when I’m damn good and ready.’
‘So what? You want to go back and ride banker boy’s Porsche, do you? Is that it? He buys you a drink and you let him give you a ride.’
That she didn’t slap him was the first shock, the second was that she didn’t turn back to the Boiling Point, but that she headed on into the park at a pace that a race horse would have struggled to keep up with.
‘I bought my own drink, you asshole. And I came with you. You’re the only one who gets to give me a ride.’
‘Kendra. Kendra, I’m sorry. Kendra wait!’ He struggled to catch up with her. ‘I just panicked when I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry, okay. I panicked.’
‘And you just assumed that I was on the make. Fuck you, Garrett! Fuck you!’
It was then that he realized she was leading him off the main path into the darkened edge of the park. ‘Kendra, where are you going?’
She didn’t respond, so he kept following her up a winding path deeper into the center of the park.
At the top of the hill in a grove of hawthorn trees and rose bushes in fragrant full-bloom, there was a bench. The leaves of the trees admitted a tiny pool of light from the street lamps just above it. ‘Kendra, where the hell are you going?’ He grabbed her hand, and she turned on him so quickly that he thought for sure this was when she would slap him, certainly he couldn’t blame her, but instead she fisted both hands in the front of his hoodie and pulled him to her in an angry kiss, then one hand migrated into the front of his track bottoms, and inside his boxer.
‘God, Kendra, what the –’ she swallowed up his words, biting his lip, sucking his tongue, licking at the back of his teeth and his hard pallet until he couldn’t breathe. Her fist around his cock was a strangle hold and even in its discomfort it felt like he was in heaven. ‘Kendra, I can’t …’ He tried to push her hand away, but the other hand snaked in and jerked his bottoms and boxers down over his ass until he could feel the night air on bare flesh. He wriggled and squirmed his heart racing in his chest. ‘Jesus, Kendra, you can’t be serious. This is a public place. What if someone –’
She bit his lip hard enough that he wondered if she’d drawn blood, and his cock surged so strongly in her hand that he feared he’d come right there. ‘Shut up, Garrett,’ she growled against his mouth. ‘I need you to fuck me, so just shut up.’
He heard the crackle of foil and with a slight of hand that nearly took his breath away she sheathed him in the condom, then with hands that seemed as full of anger and need as the rest of her, she ripped open the fly of her shredded jeans and shoved them down. Christ! There were no panties! ‘I need you, Garrett.’ She struggled to breath. ‘I need you to fuck me right now. I can’t wait. Right now. Right now!’ She turned her back to him still shoving and pushing at the jeans until they were down around her thighs and the rounded heart shape of her bottom shown in the pale light. Then she bent over and rested a palm onto the seat of the park bench. With the other hand, she reached behind her, grabbed his hip and pulled him up close until his cock pressed into the valley between her buttocks. ‘Do it, Garrett. I can’t stand it any longer. Do it now!’ She wasn’t trying to be quiet. She wasn’t trying to be subtle. She didn’t care that there were other people still using the park, that they might get caught, and Garrett felt like he’d burst at the very thought of what they were doing – and where. She opened herself to him and shifted her hips, while he, with one hand low on her back and the other on his cock fumbled and maneuvered until he slid home. She grunted a curse and pushed back onto him hard, and they both cried out as they began to thrust.
Her beret tumbled off behind the park bench and he grabbed at her ponytail as it fell free reining her in with it. He yanked her back toward him like it might help him control her somehow. He yanked her back until he could bury his mouth against her neck, rake her pulse point with his teeth, suckle and nip until the sounds coming from both their throats were feral groans and grunts.
With a quick movement, she unhooked her bra, grabbed his free hand and guided it to the bounce and the fullness of her breasts, nipples tight and puckered against the rake of his thumb. Then she grabbed his hand from her hair and guided his fingers to her mouth, licking and nibbling before she shoved them down between her legs, down to the heavy strain of her clit.
They were both too far gone to hold back much longer, and it took little more than a stroke between her legs before she came, growling and straining and nearly collapsing onto the bench as he came juddering in hard waves inside her.
It was only as their breathing began to return to normal that he could hear her sniffles. As he pulled out, she stood and wiped her nose on the back of her hand, then jerked her jeans up as though they had made her angry somehow.
She stuffed her bra into the pocket of his hoodie with a hard shove, bent to retrieve her beret, and was already heading down the path before he could deal with the condom and get settled back into his track bottoms.
PR rep extraordinaire, Kendra Davis, is elated when she gets the chance to work for her hero, reclusive, romance novelist, Tess Delaney. Her elation is short-lived when she discovers that Tess is none other than Garrett Thorne, the bad-boy brother of business tycoon and eco-warrior, Ellison Thorne, who is engaged to her best friend, Dee Henning. Kendra blames Garrett for the comedy of errors that nearly destroyed their relationship. Garrett doesn’t like Kendra either, but he’s desperate. His alter-ego, Tess has been nominated for the prestigious Golden Kiss Award. No one knows who Tess really is, and he needs Kendra to play Tess for the awards.
When Tess is stalked by a rabid fan, the two unite to protect her identity. With Kendra, the body and Garrett the soul of Tess Delaney, is there room in this strange ménage for romance? Can a woman who doesn’t exist understand their hearts even better than they do?
And all other good book retailers.
Grace Marshall lives in South England with her husband and the growing gang of hooligan birds who frequent their feeders. When Grace isn’t busy writing something sexy and romantic, she’s busy digging in her ever-expanding veg garden or walking across the British countryside. She finds inspiration outdoors in nature, and most of her best story ideas come to her while she’s walking or gardening.
Grace is the author of the fast paced, quirky Executive Decisions Trilogy published by Xcite Romance. The first and second novels in the trilogy are out now.
Grace Marshall’s alter-ego, K D Grace, writes critically acclaimed, best-selling erotic romance. Whether it’s sexy romance or romantic sex, between The Graces, there’s a story for you.
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