Doll by Juniper Bell

Doll by Juniper BellLook­ing for a great read while you relax after spend­ing a day at the mall? Or maybe you browsed book­store after book­store look­ing for a per­fect gift…

Good thing you stopped by. This is Doll by Juniper Bell. You’ll be able to pick this up from Samhain Pub­lish­ing on Tues­day 12/15/09.

What is Doll all about? Glad you asked…

Even a play­thing can be pushed too far…

Chloe Barnes thought her mar­riage to a wealthy politi­cian would be the stuff of fairy tales. Instead, he took advan­tage of her naiveté and used her as a play­thing to ful­fill his twist­ed sex­u­al needs. Ten years is enough. She returns to Bell­haven Island to sell the sum­mer cot­tage she inher­it­ed, hop­ing the mon­ey will buy her freedom–and cus­tody of her daughters.

Fish­er­man Dustin McDou­gal nev­er for­got the child­hood crush he once had on the fairy-like Chloe. The woman she’s become has a haunt­ed look that brings his feel­ings back, stronger than ever…with a mature edge. Along with all his pro­tec­tive instincts.

Their pas­sion blows stronger than a Maine nor’easter, awak­en­ing Chloe to the joy of true love. Yet it may not be strong enough to free her from the past…

Warn­ing: This title con­tains politi­cians doing all sorts of nasty things and flash­backs of male dom­i­na­tion. It also fea­tures hot sex on a boat, hot sex in an attic, hot sex on a work bench…you get the idea. Want to read a very sexy excerpt?

Have you been on your boat?” Chloe asked dream­i­ly, as Dustin ran his hands over her back.

Had to fix a bear­ing. That engine’s always mak­ing some noise or oth­er. Some­times I think it just wants my attention.”

I don’t blame it.” He found the low­er edge of her sweater and snaked his hand under it. At the feel of his work-rough­ened palm on her skin, a shud­der went through her. Imme­di­ate­ly he stopped.

Are you okay?”

Yes! You’re not fol­low­ing the rules. If I want you to stop, I’ll tell you. I don’t want you to stop. As a mat­ter of fact–” She drew away from him. “Let’s take off our clothes. Togeth­er. At the same time.”

He looked amused. “On the count of three?”

One…” Chloe stepped out of her skirt. Under­neath, she wore wool­ly leg­gings for warmth. “Two…” She start­ed to pull off the leggings.

Hang on! You’re get­ting ahead of me.” He unbut­toned his jeans, reveal­ing box­ers and a huge erec­tion. She felt the breath leave her body.

It was a good feeling.

She put her hands to the hem of her sweater and slid it over her head. It was quick­ly fol­lowed by her turtle­neck. She stood in front of him, wear­ing only her pink lace under­wear, while he unbut­toned his flan­nel shirt. Under it, he wore a “Save the Whales” T‑shirt, which she found so endear­ing, she laughed.

Am I that fun­ny-look­ing?” he asked with a wound­ed look.

I didn’t know you were a tree-hugger.”

Some of my best friends are trees.” There was a twin­kle in his deep blue eyes that put her com­plete­ly at ease. “The rest are whales.”

I think that might be a whale in your pants.”

He wag­gled his eye­brows las­civ­i­ous­ly, then laughed, an infec­tious chuck­le that made her answer with one of her own. Nev­er before had she laughed dur­ing sex, or the buildup to sex. Nev­er before had she even smiled. Or joked. Or teased. If they stopped right now, this would still be a ground­break­ing expe­ri­ence for her. But she had no inten­tion of stop­ping. “You’re still wear­ing box­ers and a T‑shirt.”

And you’ve got the bra and panties. Not that I mind the view.”

For a moment, she stiff­ened. Fear­ful­ly, she raised her eyes to his. Would she see that same cal­cu­lat­ing hunger she was used to? That greedy look that reduced her to a thing, a pos­ses­sion, a trin­ket? But no. His expres­sion was the oppo­site of that. Hap­py appre­ci­a­tion shone from his eyes. His smile had a touch of the dev­il in it, and a promise of deli­cious fun.

What’s wrong?” he asked.

Noth­ing. A ghost. We haven’t said three yet.”

If we don’t do it soon, I’m going to for­get how to count.”

Gig­gling, she put her hands behind her back, on the fas­ten­ing of her bra. He grabbed the bot­tom of his T‑shirt, poised for take-off.

Three!”

Clothes flew into the air, a flur­ry of under­wear. Sur­round­ed by dis­card­ed cloth­ing, they stared at each oth­er. Chloe felt her rib cage rise and fall with quick breaths. With­out look­ing down, she knew her nip­ples were already at atten­tion. As was his erec­tion. It rose from a thick nest of black curls and point­ed straight toward her, as if it had eyes only for her.

Sud­den­ly, des­per­ate­ly, she want­ed to know what he saw when he looked at her. “Do you think…do I seem like…a…” she whis­pered, “doll?”

Oh, no. You’re no doll.”

What did he mean? Did he think she was ugly? Maybe he was used to a dif­fer­ent type. She crossed her hands over her breasts.

No! Don’t hide.” With one quick stride, he was in front of her, hold­ing her face in his hands. “You’re beau­ti­ful. Won­der­ful. But you’re no doll. You’re too alive. Too sen­si­tive. Look, I can feel the pulse beat­ing in your throat. I can feel your skin warm­ing under my hands. You’re a liv­ing, pas­sion­ate being. How could any­one think you were a doll?” He ran his thumbs over her cheeks with a touch that seemed to trea­sure the very shape of her face. When he bent his mouth to hers, the depth of his kiss brought tears to her eyes. His tongue searched her mouth, as if he want­ed to track down what­ev­er sad­ness remained in her and soothe it away.

She let her­self sink into the com­fort of that kiss for a long moment. But then she moved rest­less­ly against him. Enough gen­tle­ness. She need­ed heat. Fire. Step­ping back, she put her hands on his and drew them to her chest. As those warm palms encir­cled her breasts, she let out a long moan. Already stiff, her nip­ples hard­ened even more as he filled his hands with her flesh. “That feels nice,” she heard her­self say. In the past, she’d nev­er said any­thing dur­ing sex. She’d become that mute doll Andrew had demand­ed. Nev­er once had she asked for any­thing. “Can you lick my nip­ples, please?”

No need to be polite, sweet­ie. I’ll do any­thing you ask.”

Whadd'ya think?