Welcome to MFRW’s weekly Book Hooks blog hop! To check out the other blogs in this hop, simply click the banner below or in the side bar. This week, I thought I’d share another excerpt from The Infiltrator, or the scene where Derrick and Keira are FINALLY about to get it on. Warning: This excerpt contains adult content, although it’s nothing too explicit.
After stringing up a sheet in Derrick’s corner of the garage, Keira stepped back, admiring her handiwork. It wasn’t much, but it would afford them some privacy should the night rover find his way down here at this hour. Also, it muffled the light from the incinerator, leaving just enough of a glow by which to see. Satisfied, she began to undress. Her body hummed with anticipation, every nerve ending sensitized, her physical sensations heightened as she neatly folded her pajamas and placed them next to his cot. The hunting knife Derrick gave her went on top, her boots went lined up neatly next to the stack. As she climbed on top of the tattered but neatly smoothed quilt, clad only in a pair of ridiculously impractical panties—she didn’t bother asking Roz where she found them—she was so giddy with excitement she almost felt drugged.
Her heart hammered as she waited, warmth pooling between her legs and dampening the scant lace, all from mere anticipation of his touch. She was going to have him. She was finally going to have him. They had things to discuss—things that wouldn’t wait much longer—but they would consummate this thing between them first.
She laid back against his single lumpy pillow, hand roaming over her breasts. She pinched her nipples and bit her lip, trailing her hand lazily down her belly and between her legs. When she was younger, she had criticized her body harshly. But her body, while not as young as it once was, was strong. It was a tool that had enabled her survival, and she respected it. And she didn’t have any qualms about enjoying it—or about giving it over to Derrick for their mutual enjoyment. She didn’t dip her fingers into her panties just yet, but idly traced the dampness through the lace, lightly teasing herself. She was tempted to start without him as she thought about earlier that evening, before the alarm interrupted them. She recalled his words, raw and feral: “Wanna taste you.”
Did he think about that a lot? Tasting her? Did he fantasize about it? And she had no doubt in her mind that he touched himself while thinking about her. Because she thought about him…and she knew that he wanted her just as badly as she wanted him. She propped herself on her elbows, losing her patience and tempted to hunt him down, when she realized that he was watching her from the edge of the sheet she’d just strung up. In the dim lighting, his eyes looked almost dangerous, his expression rapt. He’d slunk in without her noticing, evidently frozen at the sight of her, halfway inside the barrier she’d erected, with the sheet draping over his back. He was bare-chested, droplets of water from his shower still gleaming on his chest and beard. He was beautiful. Keira sat up and wordlessly beckoned him, and he obliged eagerly, his expression turning predatory as he stalked toward her. When he stopped at the foot of the cot, she could clearly see, even in the semi-darkness, his sizable erection tenting his dark sweatpants. Her mouth practically watered as she crawled toward him on hands and knees, feeling every bit the predator herself, before raising fully onto her knees. Her arms slid up his bare chest before snaking around his neck, and their mouths met greedily.
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A virus has rendered humanity mostly extinct. Keira Starr is alone, staying alive by staying on the run, sleeping in empty gas stations and the trunks of cars long abandoned on the highway. The world is overrun by “Ghosts,” the mindless, bloodthirsty dead, but they are the least of her problems. She is being hunted by ragtag groups of ruthless men, independent contractors working for a mysterious human trafficking ring. When she is finally captured, she discovers that Derrick Caine, despite his gruff demeanor and appearance, may just have a different agenda altogether.
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