Lian/Roch (Bayou Heat) by Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright Page B
Authors: Alexandra Ivy, Laura Wright
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#1 and #2 in the Bayou Heat Series
January 7, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-0-4
Bayou Heat Bayon & Jean-Baptiste
Book #3 and #4 in the Bayou Heat Series
April 11, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-1-1
Bayou Heat Talon & Xavier
Book #5 and #6 in the Bayou Heat Series
ISBN 0988624575
July 8, 2013
Rapture Series
Sinful Rapture
April 11, 2014
First Rapture
September 28, 2013
Wicked Firsts
August 19, 2013
Roch
by Laura Wright
Chapter 1
After a quick shift from puma to Pantera, Roch stood on the dirt path outside Medical and slid the knot of his wrinkled tie into place.
“Isn’t that the same suit you had on last night, brother?” Damien asked, his black eyes heavy with amusement.
Roch regarded his friend and colleague. “Yes, it is.” He didn’t like it, but time demanded it be so. The position of Diplomat deserved the respect of a suit—even if that suit was rumpled and carried the faint scent of a night gone awry.
As a morning breeze off the bayou moved over them, the tall, black-haired male chuckled. “You’re such a manwhore, you know that?”
“Don’t insult me, Damien,” Roch said, running his fingers through his thick, disheveled blond hair. He was never sleeping on a couch again. No matter what the circumstance.
“What? By calling you a whore?”
“No. By calling me a man.” Roch turned his ice blue gaze on his fellow Suit. His brows lifted a fraction of an inch. “Besides, nothing happened with the female.”
The male snorted. “Yeah, I believe that. Remember, I know you. Have seen how the females respond to you. It’s unfair as hell.” He paused to wave to a couple of female Hunters passing by. When they barely gave him a second glance, he turned his attention back to Roch, his expression hopeful. “Teach me.”
Roch cracked a dry smile. Damien was a good male; funny, honest and loyal. Not to mention a brilliant Diplomat. But this understanding of his, this belief that Roch possessed some kind of sexual magic, or—pardon the phrase—catnip with the females he encountered was complete bullshit. All he had was an open and respectful desire. And maybe the belief that a female’s pleasure came before his own.
“I saw you leave The Cougar’s Den with her,” Damien pointed out. “And you show up this morning in the same clothes, looking like you hardly slept.” He grinned. “That’s what I call a successful night.”
Roch growled softly with impatience. The night before had been anything but successful. In fact, it had been pretty much hell. Owning to it wasn’t high on his priority list, but he knew Damien wouldn’t stop questioning him until he was tossed a little something to satisfy his curiosity.
“The female is getting married in a week,” Roch said, wishing he’d had time to stop home for a shower. No matter how he tried to play this, Raphael and the other Suits were going to give him some serious shit about the wrinkled jacket and pants—not to mention the lingering odors of alcohol and a pissed-off stomach.
Damien looked genuinely confused. “So she’s getting married. And?”
“I don’t play with claimed females, Damien.”
The confusion on the male’s face deepened. “Then what did you do last night?”
Her roommate .
Roch grinned at that. At his foolish, yet highly decadent thoughts. It had been the plan. He’d even agreed to let the engaged human female watch—which she’d been damn keen on doing. But then hell had pulled him under, shaking and churning his guts until he’d become violently ill. First all over the white sheepskin rug on their living room floor, then in the bathroom for a good two hours. He’d passed out on their couch shortly after, like a hammered teenager.
Granted, Pantera had their share of medical issues to deal with, but stomach sickness was a rarity. He’d woken up late and apologized profusely to the women. And on his way back to the bayou, he had called to arrange for a new rug to
January 7, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-0-4
Bayou Heat Bayon & Jean-Baptiste
Book #3 and #4 in the Bayou Heat Series
April 11, 2013
ISBN 978-0-9886245-1-1
Bayou Heat Talon & Xavier
Book #5 and #6 in the Bayou Heat Series
ISBN 0988624575
July 8, 2013
Rapture Series
Sinful Rapture
April 11, 2014
First Rapture
September 28, 2013
Wicked Firsts
August 19, 2013
Roch
by Laura Wright
Chapter 1
After a quick shift from puma to Pantera, Roch stood on the dirt path outside Medical and slid the knot of his wrinkled tie into place.
“Isn’t that the same suit you had on last night, brother?” Damien asked, his black eyes heavy with amusement.
Roch regarded his friend and colleague. “Yes, it is.” He didn’t like it, but time demanded it be so. The position of Diplomat deserved the respect of a suit—even if that suit was rumpled and carried the faint scent of a night gone awry.
As a morning breeze off the bayou moved over them, the tall, black-haired male chuckled. “You’re such a manwhore, you know that?”
“Don’t insult me, Damien,” Roch said, running his fingers through his thick, disheveled blond hair. He was never sleeping on a couch again. No matter what the circumstance.
“What? By calling you a whore?”
“No. By calling me a man.” Roch turned his ice blue gaze on his fellow Suit. His brows lifted a fraction of an inch. “Besides, nothing happened with the female.”
The male snorted. “Yeah, I believe that. Remember, I know you. Have seen how the females respond to you. It’s unfair as hell.” He paused to wave to a couple of female Hunters passing by. When they barely gave him a second glance, he turned his attention back to Roch, his expression hopeful. “Teach me.”
Roch cracked a dry smile. Damien was a good male; funny, honest and loyal. Not to mention a brilliant Diplomat. But this understanding of his, this belief that Roch possessed some kind of sexual magic, or—pardon the phrase—catnip with the females he encountered was complete bullshit. All he had was an open and respectful desire. And maybe the belief that a female’s pleasure came before his own.
“I saw you leave The Cougar’s Den with her,” Damien pointed out. “And you show up this morning in the same clothes, looking like you hardly slept.” He grinned. “That’s what I call a successful night.”
Roch growled softly with impatience. The night before had been anything but successful. In fact, it had been pretty much hell. Owning to it wasn’t high on his priority list, but he knew Damien wouldn’t stop questioning him until he was tossed a little something to satisfy his curiosity.
“The female is getting married in a week,” Roch said, wishing he’d had time to stop home for a shower. No matter how he tried to play this, Raphael and the other Suits were going to give him some serious shit about the wrinkled jacket and pants—not to mention the lingering odors of alcohol and a pissed-off stomach.
Damien looked genuinely confused. “So she’s getting married. And?”
“I don’t play with claimed females, Damien.”
The confusion on the male’s face deepened. “Then what did you do last night?”
Her roommate .
Roch grinned at that. At his foolish, yet highly decadent thoughts. It had been the plan. He’d even agreed to let the engaged human female watch—which she’d been damn keen on doing. But then hell had pulled him under, shaking and churning his guts until he’d become violently ill. First all over the white sheepskin rug on their living room floor, then in the bathroom for a good two hours. He’d passed out on their couch shortly after, like a hammered teenager.
Granted, Pantera had their share of medical issues to deal with, but stomach sickness was a rarity. He’d woken up late and apologized profusely to the women. And on his way back to the bayou, he had called to arrange for a new rug to
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