Picture Perfect

A Woman Determined to Rise Above Heartache and Ruin.
Alexis Morgan returned to New Orleans just after Hurricane Katrina devastated the city.  Determined to focus on rebuilding her interior decorating business and saving her home, Alex has no time for relationships.  She refuses to fall into the same trap that her mother fell into and become involved with a married man.  Then, the soon-to-be married Elliot Walker storms into her life, tempting her to forget the hard lessons she learned as a child.
A Man Determined to Prove Himself.
Businessman, Elliot Walker, is the youngest, and only adopted, son of a wealthy and prominent New Orleans family.  The Walkers’ natural children are models of Society and Elliot will do no less.  Once his older brother marries, Elliot knows their mother will push him to marry the woman she believes is perfect for him, a high-powered attorney with a thirst for money, power, and sex.  With six months to go before his wedding, Elliot hires Alex to redecorate his home.  Suddenly, keeping his mother happy by marrying Rachel, a woman he’s beginning to realize he barely knows isn’t as important as having Alex in his arms.  But Rachel intends to have it all and she’s willing to murder to get it.

Spicy Excerpt:

“Elliot,” she moaned, a plea and an encouragement.
He took her mouth again. To cover her words and stop himself from losing his sanity and plunging into her without heed. His mouth sipped from hers, caressing her depths, swallowing her moans. He trailed his fingers down her belly, dipped into the indentation of her navel, and glided through the soft curls at the juncture of her thighs. Her legs bent at the knees, spread open, widened when his fingers touched her hot, wet core. He closed his eyes, the feel of her juices slipping down his fingers maddening. He found her clitoris, teased and circled a finger around the swollen nub. Caressed her soft wet folds. Her lips skimmed his jawline, the column of his neck, the pulse point there.
“I love your cologne,” she said on a deep intake of breath, licking the spot where he always dabbed some. “Since the moment I met you, this scent has driven me wild.”
Her tongue caressed that spot again, and his body jerked, sensitized to her, her touch.
“Made me want to bury my face in the crook of your neck.” Which she did and pressed another kiss to the spot. “Made me want to taste you and lick you and suck you.”
“Goddamn!” he muttered, hoarse, guttural, her velvet softness hotter, wetter against his fingers.
Her hands roamed over his chest, circled his nipples, brushed against his abdomen. Closed around his straining length.
“You’re so big,” she murmured against his neck, her fingers stroking his cock. “Will it fit into my mouth?”
Her mouth? “Sonofabitch.”
He pumped against her hand, felt the beads of moisture seep from the tip of him. “You can’t—” He began on a strangled moan.
“You tasted me. I want to taste you. Don’t tell me no. Please?” she whispered.
Tell her no? The thought just processed before her lips trailed down his body, her silky tresses trailing along with her, tickling and tormenting him.
Her tongue dragged across the swollen head of his length, tasted the pre-cum. Sensation streaked along his nerve endings, tore through his brain, his heart. He forced his gaze to her, forced the words to form that would tell her to stop. Her gray gaze, burning molten silver, met his. Her lips stretched around the length of him. His cock jerked, surged halfway into her mouth, against her throat. His breath came in short gasps, and her mouth began to move against him, the flat of her tongue stroking the underside of his flesh. His hips moved to the rhythm of her bobbing head. Her wild mass of hair fanned against her cheeks, trailed along his thighs. She raised her head, stared at him, and allowed the tip of her tongue to dip into his slit, drawing beads of seed from him.
“You taste delicious,” she whispered, closing her mouth around him and sucking hard.

Pleasure exploded in him, and, instead of pulling her head away, he buried his hands in her hair and held her against him. She sucked again, and his hands twisted in her hair, a hoarse groan escaping his lips. Her tongue slid along his hot length, soothing his raging turmoil, allowing him a measure of control. A moment of sanity. He drew in a breath and loosened his grip on her. “I’m close to coming.” He managed to push the words out, but damned his honor. “Stop this now.”
“I came in your mouth.” She dipped her head again and drew so hard on him he wrenched her hair as his balls tightened. His seed gushed from him and into her mouth. He shouted, called her name as she sucked him without mercy, drinking every drop of him.
He released his grip on her hair, his heart hammering, his body weightless. Her lips were at his neck again. Tasting the cologne she said drove her wild. The cologne he’d keep stocked by the gallons.
He adjusted his hold on her, flipping her onto her back. He stared down at her in wonder.
She rubbed her hand along the contours of his face, adoration on her own. “I wanted to make you feel good. Give you the pleasure you gave me.”
Her soft words, her sweet touch, humbled him. Touched something deep within him. He closed his eyes and leaned into her touch, breathing in the scent of her desire, his own desire.
Elliot slid his knuckles along her cheek, trailing his touch down her body until he reached her hot sheath. He groaned at Alexis’ mewl of satisfaction. She arched into his hand, her pubic hair tickling his palm. His thumb pressed against the glistening pearl hidden between her folds, and she rocked her hips to his probing touch, bringing his mouth to hers and swallowing her gasp. His thumb continued to manipulate her clitoris, his mouth mating with hers, showing her what he intended to do with her body.
Her sighs and the rocking of her hips almost unmanned him. Blood swelled his length once again, thickening him near to bursting. Her breath came in short gasps, her juices dripping from her. He pulled his mouth from hers, glided his lips down the column of her throat, which she bared to him as she threw her head back. His path continued between the valley of her breasts, down her flat belly. He brushed kisses along her mound, until his seeking mouth found her liquid center.
Still pressing his thumb against her nub of pulsating nerves, he tongued her. Quivers arced through her loins and against his mouth.
“Elliot!” she groaned.
“You like it when I tongue your clit?” he demanded and lapped her, her scent and taste driving him mad.
She whimpered, her body shaking, her slick heat coating his lips, a little more of her cream seeping from her at his words. She rolled her hips against his mouth.

“I could lick you for hours,” he admitted, spearing his tongue into her and out again. “Do you like my mouth on you?” Her moans filled his head, the taste of her spicy musk tormenting him. “I want to know. Tell me.”
“Y-yes,” she gasped, straining to push against his mouth again. “I like it.”
“You like what?” he asked, punctuated by a long, slow lick. “Tell me what you like.”

She whimpered again, clutched the sheets, and arched her hips toward him in a helpless gesture.
“Don’t be afraid to tell me what you want. I like your mouth on my cock.” He slipped a finger into her narrow channel, stroking, meeting the barrier of her innocence. She moaned, grew wetter. “Is my hand enough for you until I join with you?” he asked, knowing it wasn’t, wondering how he’d not spend himself then and there.
“N-no,” she whimpered, her peak near, at the edge. He had only to manipulate his finger inside her a little more. Stroke her core. Lick her clitoris. “I want … I want your mouth,” she cried, parting her legs farther, exposed and open to him, rocking against his fingers. “Lick me.” Her fingers pulled her taut nipples. “T-tongue my clit.”                                                      

Elliot and Alex's Initial Meeting:

At first glance of the man, her breath whooshed from her lungs. Light brown eyes enhanced the lines of his face. She blinked, finding him the most magnificent male specimen she’d ever seen in her life. His dark hair was cut short and neat, his generous mouth a wicked temptation. Firm, confident strides brought him inches from her. As sleek as a jaguar, muscles strained against his designer, charcoal-gray suit. Alex breathed in his cologne, an exhilarating scent that filled her with euphoria. Tingles coursed down to her toes.

“I was wondrin’ if ya gots a sampla wid lighta wallpapa prints?” the first man asked.

She lifted her brows in surprise at her first customer, his expression now more mocking than threatening. Caught off guard, she faltered. “Wh-what?”

“Good afternoon.”

Alex glanced toward the sound of the deep baritone.

“Good afternoon, sir.” She stretched her hand out in greeting. The newcomer’s interruption allowed her to regain a measure of equilibrium. “How may I help you?” Her breathlessness reeked uncertainty. Awareness of this beautiful man curled around her.

The handsome stranger grasped her hand. His big hand with long fingers and trimmed nails closed over her smaller one. A few moments passed as their gazes locked. The same awareness overwhelming her was mirrored in his expression. Clearing his throat, he nodded at their entwined hands, indicating the handshaking should end … which had evolved into handholding.

Alex snatched her hand away.

“I seem to have interrupted your interest in your other customer.” Excitement lurched within her at the husky command of his tone. “I haven’t much time, Miss…?”

“Um, Morgan.” Her heart raced at the spark of eroticism in his smile. “Alexis Morgan, Mr…?”

“Walker,” he completed. “Elliot Walker, CEO and founder of Walker Way.”

“Walker Way, the company that’s becoming a formidable force in the technology industry?”

He grimaced. “As I started to say, Ms. Morgan, I haven’t much time, but I can wait for a few minutes while you complete your transaction with your other customer.”

“No need.” The other man had followed the exchange with interest. “I seed all I need ta … hava nice day.” The doorbells jangled as he exited the shop.

“Good riddance,” she mumbled to the glass door, her anxiety easing. “I’m sorry about that.” A quiver surged through her veins at Elliot Walker’s nearness. “He was a browser. I’m all yours.”

“All mine? Is that so?”

His suggestive tone made her feel attractive and feminine. She brushed off his words, determined to ignore their pull. “How can I help you?”

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