Tuesday, December 17, 2013

Spotlight: Emotionally Compromised




Emotionally Compromised
By: A. Rosa

Blurb  
"A smile will get you far, but a smile and a gun will get you farther" -Al Capone.

Federal Agent Alex Turner deals better with guns than boyfriends, and prefers it that way. Her emotional range is bleak, but her aim is damn near perfect.

Thinking saving the world is a far easier task than dating, Agent Turner springs at the opportunity to prevent young scientist Marcus Gibbs from selling his biological weapon to the highest bidder. With her goal in sight, and Marcus eating out of the palm of her hand, an obstacle she doesn't see coming interferes. Meet Jeremy Hunt -- the distractingly handsome CEO of Sunscape Biotechnologies, and Marcus's boss and best friend.

A man who is accustomed to getting what he wants, Jeremy's never been one to take no for an answer, which has Agent Turner realizing for the first time that her wit might get her farther than her weapon. With no protocol or training to reference when it comes to matters of the heart, she worries that this might be her hardest assignment yet.
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Author Info
A. Rosa lives in San Diego, California. When she isn’t scouring city parks or cafe’s to write she is more than likely trying to convince her friends to join her on her next adventure. A sufferer of wanderlust, she is always looking for a new mountain to climb, a canyon to hike, or a plane to board. Her resume consists of coroner, to working at a zoo, and most recently as an executive assistant, but finds her home amongst words, whether it be in books, or in film. Her obsessions are on the brink of bizarre, but that’s just the way she likes it. 
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TEASER 
I try the distraction technique. I press my lips against his, and though he is shocked by the move, he accepts them willingly. His lips devour mine in need.
He slams my body hard into the wall, and pins me with his hips. His hands drag down my torso, gripping my behind roughly, and his fingers dig into my skin.
This is Jeremy Hunt. Commanding and demanding. Another favorite. With this version, I don't need to think.
He pulls away from me, out of breath. "I need to know we are OK." I realize this is our way of doing things. Sometimes I suck at talking, and this might be my only way of showing him that we are fine.
His mouth covers mine again, and I can't help but whimper. He pulls away once more. "That's better."
The bastard knows that talking like this isn't my thing, and he seems aware of his power over me. I return his heated crystal glare with a wry look. Obviously, he's aware I let him control me. "Fine. Let's not talk, then."
He scoops me up, bridal style. "Jeremy, what are you doing?" I yelp in surprise.
"You don't want to talk. Fine! But I will at least make this more comfortable for both of us." He beelines for my bedroom.
"I am no good at talking," I blurt out.
He raises an eyebrow at me, starting up the steps. "Oh really? I think you are good at it when you are scolding me."
Before I can respond with something sarcastic, he throws me onto the bed. "Jeremy!"
"Oh, are you angry at me now?"
His grin is infectious as I watch his Viking form, in only his boxer briefs, crawl over the bed toward me. My previous anger vanishes, and I smile. How does he do that?
Before I can finish my thought, his lips come down on mine hard, he presses his hips into me, and he grabs my hands, pinning them above my head. His tongue dips into my mouth for a brief moment, teasing me, eliciting an involuntary moan to slip from my lips.
He pulls away looking triumphant. "Now that I've got you calmed down, and right where I want you"—his eyes glitter mischievously—"you need to know that I am glad I am everything to you."
My eyes widen, and the previous panic seeps back into my core. My arms jolt, trying to get free of his grasp, but his grip is firm. I try to speak, but he cuts me off with an authoritative voice. "I am not finished yet." He places a chaste kiss on my lips to soften the conversation. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, and I have to admit that would frustrate the hell out of me, but for now I will let it go. I just want to say a few things. Maybe we don't know what everything means to us, but those feelings are mutual. You don't need to be scared, or embarrassed by your emotions. I can tell this is something you don't know how to handle, and in a way, it's kind of"—he tilts his head to the side as if pondering it for a moment—"cute."
I furrow my eyebrows at the word cute. Teddy bears are cute, not trained federal agents.
He laughs at my look and kisses the soft skin between my wrinkled brows. "You are so much cuter than you let on, but that is beside the point. You are a lot to handle, you know that?"
My lips twitch playfully, hiding my own secrets.. "Oh, you have no idea."
We both let out a belt of laughter, and things feel back to normal. Whatever normal means to us.




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