Q) How did you dream up the dynamics of your characters?
I’m obsessed with ice hockey, especially the Dallas Stars and Tyler Seguin. Thus, the idea for book one. As for book two, I was writing it in my head as I worked on book two.
Q) Is this book part of a series? If so, can you tell us about it?
This is Book 2 of The Gentry Duo. Both are standalone reads but each book has both of the brothers in each
Q) What do you think is your strongest asset as a writer? …what is your weakest factor as a writer?
My strongest asset is my determination to get something finished once I’ve started it. There’s no ‘wait until tomorrow’ for me. Once I start, everything else, including house work, etc., takes a back burner. My weakest factor is most definitely overthinking absolutely everything. I write and rewrite scenes until I’m sometimes ready to beat myself in the head.
Q) What are your upcoming projects?
I’m working on my darkest character yet, a dominant sadist. I hope to be done before Christmas.
“Be a good girl,” my mother always said. And I did.
Until Reese Gentry looked my way.
Eyes holding a beautiful guarantee of wicked unchaste, sin and sex.
Smile flashing shameless bliss and obscene desire.
Hands offering sweet pleasure and bitter punishment.
Sometimes even the good girl next door needs a dirty secret.
With no clingy strings, I’ll willingly give him what he wants, when he wants it, wherever he wants it.
But strings are sometimes broken.
Reese Gentry is used to two things. Getting what he wants … and repeating.
But then life has its own ideas.
Two years pass, and he’s back. But I’m no longer that spirited girl from the past.
Those days were only the beginning of my story.
Those days were before I was left a … slut.
My body is instantly on fire, my heart thundering. Temptation slides through my core as his hand creeps down my torso, reaching underneath my dress and brushing over the damp fabric of my panties. I feel his intensity, his dominance. This power he has. It’s who he is. Who he’s always been. I want him. His hands on me. Inside me. No more doubt. No worrying. No jealousy.
“I need you, Reese,” I whisper, watching the blue in his eyes, the expression on his face, both shameless hot seduction.
I love you so damn much.
“Open your legs, Graycee,” his voice lowers, “so I can give you what you need.”
I open my legs and a finger, then two, slides inside my panties, pushing into my sex so deep that I think I might shatter. “Oh, God, Reese. Feels so good.”
“Shh, baby.” There’s a command to his voice as his palm cups my mouth to quieten me while his fingers push and thrust, his thumb doing crazy insane circling motions over my clit. He kisses at the tender spot just below my ear, knowing just how much that tiny move affects me. “Now I’m going to lick all that modesty and lingering doubt out of you. And you, Graycee, are going to stay very quiet.”
Dropping to his knees, he urges my dress up and slides my panties to the side. Burying his face against my cleft, his tongue pushes into me. He’s rough and urgent, greedy and fierce, like wicked voodoo, licking, stroking, teasing, doing everything that I crave. I can barely breathe, so lost in Reese, this connection between us something way deeper than sex. My fingers automatically wind through his hair as my hips seethe around the firm movements of his mouth. We’re staring at each other like there’s no other person in existence. Like a hundred or more people aren’t footsteps away from us.
“Oh my God. Reese. No more. Not here.” The smooth sleekness of his tongue licks through me, inside me, slowly. Quickly. Then slow once again before flickering over my clit as he pulls me hard against him, his hands tightening against my hips.
“Don’t ever do that to yourself again,” he says in a voice that’s heavy with intensity. “Or to me, Graycee. Don’t let that man, or the past, control you. You’re stronger than that. You’re stronger than he ever was.” He licks through my sex again, stopping at my clit. I rake my nails through the sides of his hair, my pleasure building. Consuming me.
“Reese, this is crazy. You’re going to make me come.”
“Yes, I am. And you’re going to stay silent. And then, when we get home, I’m going to make you come again, until you scream my name.”
His lips cover my sex, and I’m instantly grinding against his mouth, squeezing my eyes shut, stirring with twenty sensations as he delves deep inside, his hands all over me. I’m shamelessly writhing, my sex clenching with every impatient thrust. Too late to care where we are or how many people are only feet away, he’s tonguing me into a shattering orgasm. My body spasms around him, my nails drilling into his shoulders as I bite down on my lip, choking back a scream. He pulls me closer to his face, his lips still sealed tight. My sex convulsing, my entire lower body trembling. When I open my eyes again, only feet away from me, his gaze dark and evil, is none other than Rodney.
“Reese!” I push at him, lowering my dress.
“Rodney! He was there! Right there!”
About the Author:
Lacee Hightower is an American writer and romance novelist, referring to her style as contemporary, sweet romance with a “twist.” Living in the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, she describes herself as a foodie that can’t cook, a large lover of fashion and SHOES, and an enormous hopeless romantic. Since she was old enough to know what the word meant, she loved the whole concept of romance and happy endings. Even though she has always enjoyed writing, life got in the way and she never really thought of pursuing it seriously until she decided to write her first book after both her children were grown in 2017. Now with a nice glass of wine in hand, or not, she is learning to love bringing the characters in her head to life on paper for those who enjoy peeking into another world.
Social Media Links:
Instagram – laceehightower8786