Iron and Willa's Story

“Did you suffer for me?” he asked, reaching out to trace his hand over her lace stocking and higher still over the garters that held them up. “I like the feel of this,” he whispered, brushing his fore and middle finger over the deep impressions the tight straps made. “You knew I’d check. Did you tighten them tonight before I arrived?”

This one's fun. Okay, it's a suggestively playful cerebral slow burn with some laugh out loud moments. Sexy with a few <- BDSM elements because, well...

Iron was like, "But that's how I roll."

And there's me as the writer going, "Yeah, but Willa is a force who isn't going to like hearing it put like that."

He starts pacing on the page, "What about if I soft pedal it, you know, I make her say please, but I'm really pleasant about it?"

I'm shaking my head. "Nope. She'd shoot you down."

He stops pacing. "What about I just don't consult you and I do what I want?"

I was thinking about it. Not gonna lie. The man is very persuasive, I must say, but then? "Yeah, I don't think that will work either."

He stares at me. "Why not?"

"Because I'm taking Willa's side on this."

And wouldn't you know. She's sitting on the next page, waiting for her POV (Point of view) to start, when I hear her yell. "Let him do it. I'm only playing hard to get!"

There's Me, **blink, blink** Apparently I don't know EVERYTHING there is to know about them...bummer.

Here's the blurb:

Willa's an artist who needs someone to deliver her and her paintings safely to Utah and Iron is a security risk specialist who needs to return to Utah under the radar of watchful eyes.

So this RV trip babysitting job is perfect for both of them until Iron sees her talent. One painting in particular has caught his eye. Is Willa Fae Wallace being set up to become the next artist drawn into the scam of the century?

Willa can’t believe her massive good luck. The Agency finally bent so that she wouldn’t have to ship her babies.  Her luck started to slide though, when the driver shows up. He’s short on words, long on stares, and has a beast of an attitude that falls right into her ‘wanna be good girl’ territory.

While Iron’s trying to professionally assess her risk of being drawn in as an asset on the wrong side of right, Willa basks in the brutal charm of his heated interrogations. She’d never had a man verbally spar with her so brilliantly, while he blatantly cheated. What? She had to let him do this, because the risk for her had nothing to do with an art scam. If Iron ever found out what she was really up to he’d have a fit.    

As always, thanks for stopping by,

Riley