Title: Marking Him (Marked #2)
Author: Elena M. Reyes
Genre: Erotica/ Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 27th 2014
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Synopsis:
The day Maya Owens walked into his tattoo shop, everything Talan knew changed.
After officially starting a relationship, he has trouble managing Maya—a woman who consumes every part of his being and now owns his heart. His need to control her and everything around her drives Maya insane, but he has good reason. After all, Janice is still lurking around and she has a vendetta against his Bitty.
In no time, Talan wants more, and it’s faster than Maya can handle, and things begin to get complicated.
Author Bio:
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved flip-flops, she would. As a small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned. Her passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of pleasure. It wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.
{AUTHOR CONTACT LINKS}
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Excerpt 1
The phone rang again as I parked my truck outside her building. I could see her now: pacing a hole into the floor and cursing my name into the fiery pits of hell.
Bitty was a lot like me when it came to punctuality.
The elevator ride was quiet, except for a ping alerting me to another voicemail. Looking at my watch caused me to let out a low chuckle. Exactly one hour had passed from the time we’d agreed to meet up.
Just like the day she arrived with Esther, an hour past her friend’s appointment time, and flipped my world upside.
My hand rose to knock on her door. I’d barely made a tap over the wood when it open. Her face was glorious in her anger, and her bottom lip swollen and red. She’d bitten it more than once, I knew, awaiting my arrival.
“How dare you?” Maya sneered appraising my lazy smile and calm stance. “Is this some kind of joke to you? What the fuc—”
“You look gorgeous, Maya.” My dark eyes drank her in; nothing in my world could surpass her beauty. It seemed my little Bitty had changed her outfit, more than likely believing I’d stood her up.
No more make-up or tight, revealing clothing. Simply her, in nothing more than an old tank and shorts.
Beautiful.
“ ‘You look gorgeous.’ Really? Is that all you have to say?” Bitty huffed at me, her eyes full of sadness.
“No.” I chuckled at her attitude. “I also need you to put on shoes, and here, these are for you.”
I held out my gift to her. Her head cocked to the side and her lips twitched. She couldn't stay mad at me. I knew that.
“You got me a branch?”
I shook my head and bit my bottom lip to hold in my amusement. Maya had the most adorable confused expression.
“It’s a flower or three.”
“You sure?” Maya coughed. She did a piss poor job of holding in her amusement. “Because it sure looks like a twig with flowers.”
“Technically, it is and isn’t. At least, that’s what the old lady at the flower shop told me.”
At this she guffawed. “You paid for that?” Poor thing obviously thought I was an idiot.
“I did, and for your information, the meaning behind them was worth every penny.” Her laughter stopped at that. Bitty watched me now. I took a step forward and she took a step back.
“What does it mean?” Maya hedged with a curious tone.
I had her now. “This simple little stem of peach blossoms means longevity.” Her eyes misted and a sweet smile broke across her face. “I am your captive, Bitty.”
“How am I supposed to stay mad?” Maya sniffed. Her hand reached out for me and pulled me closer. No space between our bodies. None was needed.
“You aren’t,” I answered then leaned down to peck those sweet lips. She tasted of peaches, the gloss I loved on her lips, and her natural decadence. “Right now, you’re supposed to fall into my arms and kiss me with everything you have, that’s mine.”
Bitty smirked. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” My teeth bit into her bottom lip with a bit more force than I intended. She loved it and moaned. “Those noises aren’t helping me at the moment.” I groaned into her mouth before stealing another quick kiss and pulling away.
She pouted and glared. “Why are you always putting the brakes on us?”
“Because I have more planned for tonight than claiming what’s already mine.”
“You’re something else, Talan Cox,” Maya mumbled before grabbing her branch and turningtoward her kitchen.
She shouldn’t have done that.
My feet followed her body, my eyes glued to her ass encased in small cotton shorts, barely covering the bits of flesh I needed to bite.
I don’t know if it was the skin on display, or the word “pink” spelled across her ass that enflamed my hunger for her.
I was done for.
“I am.” My hands encircled her waist and pulled her back flush against my body. Her smaller frame molded to my larger one like a missing puzzle piece.
Every muscle coiled, and demanded that I take. My need consumed me.
Crazy. Addictive. Mine.
My lips skimmed her throat, nipped the flesh behind her ear, and inhaled that scent that was uniquely hers.
“Fuck, Talan.” Maya arched her back, pushing her ass against my needy cock.
“Sorry I was late, baby, but perfection is worth waiting for.”
Excerpt 2
I sat in that empty lot for five minutes before there was a tap at my window. It was Simon. Why the fuck was he here?
Rolling down the window, I gave him my best bitch brow. “What’re you doing here?”
“Save it, small fry.” He laughed and opened my door. “Boss man just left, and my boss demanded I retrieve you. It’s a preventive decoy.”
My expression must’ve matched my thoughts: I’m not following.
“If Talan sees you and Esther walking toward the shop, he’ll know something’s up,” Simon explained while shoving a bag at me.
I looked inside the bag and arched the brow at him again. “What’s up with the wig?”
“Simple. You and Esther have a very distinct hair color and that solves one problem. If we happen to see him, I’ll pull you in closer and he’ll think its Esther getting her fix.”
I smiled: Now this made sense. “Good job, young grasshopper. I’m impressed.”
Simon flipped me off with an amused grin on his face. “You’re perfect for him, you know?”
“He’s perfect for me,” I amended and grabbed his offered hand. The long coat I was wearing prevented him from seeing anything. Fucker still waggled his brow the moment my high-heeled shoes came into view, though.
“Talan’s in for one hell of a night.” Simon bit his lip. “I’m happy for him, but dammit, I wish you girls would’ve let us in on this. ‘Moody fucker’ is the nicest way to describe what he’s been like since he found out he was booked tonight.”
“I know.” Simon mock-glared at my giggle. “I’m sorry, but all this was necessary. He’s going to—pardon my crudeness—blow his load the moment he realizes what’s about to happen.”
“That he is.” He laughed and walked me back toward the parlor. We made it there without incident. Simon stopped in front of the back door, “This is where I leave you, ma’am. Esther has everything else set up. It’ll be you and him once you walk through that door.”
“Thanks, Simon.” I pulled him in for a tight hug then watched him stroll off. The nerves were starting to take a hold of me again.
Would Talan like this?
Who was I kidding? Of course he would. That man has wanted nothing more than to lay his stamp, his creation, on my skin for months.
Opening the door, I heard soft music playing in the distance. It made me smile. Our playlist, the one I’d created for just this purpose, played through the store’s speakers.
My feet carried me forward. His office door was closed, all the lights off except for his private room—it was lit. Candles and low-lighting illuminated every inch of space. Perfect.
Talan’s station was set up: only black ink on his table, gun, needles, cups, cleaning solution and towels …
Lying in his chair was my folder, open with the stencil of his design atop the rest. It was a reminder of how he saw me. His equal. His other half.
With shaking fingers, I opened my coat and let it fall to the floor. Beneath the fabric I had worn nothing. This was my gift to him. The flesh he admired and made come alive with just the tone of his voice.
Bending at the waist, I picked up my coat and carried it to just outside of his door—and dropped it there.
Let him find it. Find me.
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