Decadentâ¦ Sensualâ¦ Forbiddenâ¦
12 Masters. 12 Desires. 12 Fantasies Come to Life.
Meet the Masters of Blasphemyâ¦
About THEIRS TO TAKE (Blasphemy #4, 9/26/17):
12 Masters. Infinite fantasies. Welcome to Blasphemyâ¦
Sheâs the fantasy theyâve always wanted to shareâ¦
Best friends Jonathan Allen and Cruz Ramos share almost everythingâa history in the Navy, their sailboat building and restoration business, and the desire to dominate a woman together, which they do at Baltimoreâs exclusive club, Blasphemy. Now if they could find someone who wants to play for keepsâ¦
All Hartley Farren has in the world is the charter sailing business she inherited from her beloved father. So when a storm damages her boat, she throws herself on the mercy of business acquaintances to do the repairsâstat. She never expected to find herself desiring the sexy, hard-bodied builders, but being around Jonathan and Cruz reminds Hartley of how much she longs for connection. If only she could decide which man she wants to pursue moreâ¦
As their attraction flashes hot, Jonathan and Cruz determine to have Hartley for their own. But the menâs erotic world is new and overwhelming, and Hartleyâs unsure if she could really submit to being both of theirs to takeâ¦forever.
A Special Cross-Over Release with Jennifer Probstâs Reveal Me from her Steele Brothers Series!
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo
Hey everyone! Iâm so excited to share this sneak peek from my upcoming Theirs to Take, a standalone in my erotic romance Blasphemy series! Itâs been a few years since Iâve written a mÃ©nage romance, and Iâm having so much fun writing charter sailboat captain Hartley Farrenâs relationship with Jonathan and Cruz, two business acquaintances who help her when her boat is damaged during a stormâand who are also Masters at Baltimoreâs most exclusive play club.
I hope youâll grab your copy! And try book 1 in the series â Bound to Submit Ââ which is free on all retailers! Now, read on:
âWhat am I going to do?â Hartley asked herself as the office door opened and closed. The office manager, Linda, no doubt.
âHey, are you okay?â
The voice was deep, male, and definitely not Lindaâs. Hartleyâs gaze whipped up. And up. To find a tall and incredibly sexy man standing in the doorway to her cubicle. Sun-kissed shoulder-length blond hair framed a ruggedly masculine face and intense gray eyes that were at once inquisitive and observing. Broad shoulders and defined muscles pulled taut a heathered-gray T-shirt with a single word written across the chest: NAVY. His lean forearms and legs beneath a pair of khaki cargo shorts were toned and tanned, as if he spent a lot of time in the sun.
The guy exuded raw sex appeal doing nothing besides standing absolutely still, and his very presence scrambled her brain.
âUh, hi. Yes. Sorry. Iâm kinda in my own world here. Did you need Linda?â Hartley managed as she pushed to her feet. At five-five, she wasnât exactly short, but his impressive height made her tilt her head back to meet his assessing gaze.
He shook his head. âI was coming by to see if she needed any help around the marina.â
âOh. Wow. Iâm sure sheâd appreciate that. She stepped out to a meeting but she should be back soon if youâd like to wait.â Despite his selfless reason for being there, the man made Hartley nervous. She wasnât sure why. Maybe it was the intensity behind those odd, gray eyes. Or the way he towered over her. Or how freaking good-looking he was.
(Or the way she wanted to climb him like mainmast. Gah.)
âIâll do that. Thanks.â
âSure,â she said. But he didnât leave. âUm, anything else I can do for you?â
His gaze stayed glued to hers, but she had the oddest feeling that he was checking her out nonetheless. He smiled and shook his head. And, man, was his smile a stunner, highlighting the strong angles of his jaw and charming her with the way the right side of his mouth lifted higher than the left. He thumbed over his shoulder. âIâll just grab a seat.â
And then he disappeared from her little doorway.
Hartley was half tempted to peer around the corner and watch him walk away. Just to see if the rear view was as impressive as the front.
On a sigh, she dropped back into her chair. And even though her thoughts shouldâve returned to the huge problem of fixing her boat, they lingered on the sexy Good Samaritan currently making small noises on the other side of the room. Who was he? Hartley had essentially grown up around this marina. Even though she couldnât say she knew everyone here, she still recognized most of the regulars. And sheâd never seen Mr. Tall, Blond, and Ruggedly Handsome before.
Her cell phone buzzed, pulling her from her thoughts.
âHello?â she answered.
âMrs. Farren, this is Ed Stark returning your call from Stark Restoration.â
Hope rushed through Hartley. âHi, Mr. Stark. Thanks for calling back so quickly. And, please, call me Hartley.â Being called missus was almost laughable when she couldnât remember the last time sheâd gone on a date. With rebuilding the charter business after her fatherâs death and taking care of her grandmother, Hartley didnât have time to date. Or, at least, she hadnât made the time. Not that sheâd had any prospects motivating her to do so. Shaking the thoughts away, she filled the man in on the damage her boat had sustained and the challenge of her three-week deadline.
âI might be able to get someone out to take a look at your boat by the end of the week, but youâre at least the tenth call Iâve had today. I wouldnât be able to guarantee a completion date without assessing the damage, and Iâve got a number of other repair jobs ahead of yours at this point.â
It was the same thing all the others had told her. And she got it. She did. It wasnât anyone elseâs problem that she depended on the Windsong for her livelihood. Or that sheâd put most of what her father left her into her grandmotherâs home and a bigger boat that could carry more passengers two years ago. Or that July had been so rainy that her normal charter business had been halved. Or that she needed the extra income that the sailboat show and Sailing University courses would bring in to make it through the leaner winter months.
Just then, the front door opened again. âHartley, Iâm back. Sorry I was gone so long.â This time, it was definitely Linda. âOh, Jonathan. How are you? How did you guys make out in the storm?â
âOur shopâs fine, maâam,â the man said. âThanks for asking.â Jonathan. Jonathan who apparently had a shop somewhere in the marina? âDo you need any help with anything? Cruz and I are available if you do.â
âOh, arenât you a sweetheart?â Linda said. âFor the moment, I think we have everything under control, but I will absolutely keep your offer in mind.â
Even more curious about the mystery sex god in her midst, Hartley stepped out of her cubicle and tried not to stare. Or drool. But between those mountainous shoulders, built biceps, and his sun-streaked hair, it was hard not to. (Thatâs what she said!) Oh, God. Hartley was clearly losing her mind. She forced her gaze to her friend. âHey, Linda. Everything go okay?â
âOh, yes. Just little fires everywhere that need put out,â Linda said, dropping a legal pad full of notes onto her desk. âWere you able to find anyone to do the work?â
Hartleyâs shoulders fell. âNo. No one can even look before Friday.â
Linda frowned, and then her gaze swung to Jonathan. âHave you two met yet?â
That intense gray-eyed gaze landed on Hartley, unleashing a whirl of butterflies in her belly. âHavenât had the pleasure,â Jonathan said.
It was a simple statement. But something about the word pleasure from that manâs mouth made a tingle run down her spine. Itâd clearly been too long since sheâd been on a date. Or been kissed. And waaaay too long since sheâd last had sex. Embarrassingly long. Like, she didnât even want to admit to herself how long.
With that fantastic thought in mind, all Hartley managed to say was, âUh, hi. Again.â She chuckled to cover how much she wanted to duck back into the cubicle and bang her head against the desk.
He grinned, and it was a grin that couldâve easily been playful or mischievous. Either way, it was sexy as hell. âHi. Again. Iâm Jonathan Allen.â
âHartley Farren.â Feeling Lindaâs amused gaze on her, she cleared her throat. âYou have a shop in the marina?â
He nodded. âA&R Builds and Restoration.â
âJonathan and his partner Cruz own the business that moved into the old Stanton space at the beginning of the summer,â Linda added helpfully.
Hartleyâs eyes went wide as her heart kicked into a sprint. âYou do builds and restoration?â
He chuckled. âAs the name suggests.â
She didnât even mind the teasing, not when he might be able to help her. âThen you might be my new favorite person.â
âIs that right?â
The office phone rang, and Linda excused herself to answer it.
Hartley stepped closer to Jonathan. Why did that make her feel like she was approaching a usually friendly but sometimes lethal animal? Her stomach did a little flip. âYes, because I need a huge, huge, gigantic favor.â
He arched a sexy brow. âAnd if I do this favor, will I officially be your favorite person?â
She grinned, enjoying his playfulnessâand the fact that he was entertaining doing her a favor when they barely knew each other. âWithout question. Iâll even make you an official certificate. Jonathan Allen. Hartley Farrenâs Favorite Person.â
That crooked smile emerged again, and hope flooded through her. âHmm. I donât know. I mean, a certificate is nice and all, butâ¦â
Was he playing with her? She thought he was, but she didnât know him well enough to know for sure. Hartley braced her hands on her hips. âAre you teasing me? Because that would be evil, Jonathan, and you donât strike me as an evil man.â Now she arched a brow.
His chuckle this time was different. Deeper. Grittier. Sexier. With an undercurrent ofâ¦something she didnât understand. âYou never know, Hartley.â
âOh, come on. Can I at least tell you what my favor is?â she asked.
Those gray eyes sparkled with amusement. âWell, I couldnât help but overhear your phone conversation, so I might have an inkling.â
Wait. He knew what she needed and still hadnât said no? Hope and anticipation rushed through her, making her feel restless and brave. âThen if my awesome certificate idea isnât enough, what can I offer to convince you to walk out to my slip and take a look at my catamaran?â
That eyebrow arched again, and Hartley suddenly felt like theyâd been playing chessâand her words had just allowed him to put her in checkmate. But still, he didnât make any claims of her.
She stepped closer. âJonathan. Mr. Allen. Mr. Allen, My Already Officially Favorite Person, are you going to make me beg? Because that wouldnât be very nice,â she added playfully.
Those gray eyes flared. She wouldâve sworn they did. He bit back a chuckle as he shook his head. And when his words came, they were filled with a deep intensity that made her shiver. âWhy donât you show me your boat, Hartley, and then Iâll answer your questions.â
Books in the Blasphemy Series:
On His Knees #5 â Coming Winter 2018
About Laura Kaye:
Laura is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of over thirty books in contemporary and erotic romance and romantic suspense, including the Blasphemy, Hard Ink, and Raven Riders series. Growing up, Lauraâs large extended family believed in the supernatural, and family lore involving angels, ghosts, and evil-eye curses cemented in Laura a life-long fascination with storytelling and all things paranormal. Laura also writes historical fiction as the NYT bestselling author, Laura Kamoie. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two daughters, and appreciates her view of the Chesapeake Bay every day.