6:15 PM | Labels: ashlynn monroe, Cobblestone Press, contemporary erotic romance, Erotic Romance, erotica, military romance, science fiction romance, sexy
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Leah is a military scientist working on a top-secret project. Jericho, civilian consultant makes her think some very non-scientific thoughts! They have to develop lust in a bottle, but when Leah looks at Jericho; her lust is definitely not staying in the bottle. An accident shows them just how well their lust in the bottle works and Leah discovers that Jericho looks just as good with his clothes off! However, when the lust wears off Leah wonders if the chemistry was real or synthetic? Could a guy like Jericho still want her without chemical lust?
Jericho bent over to pick up the vials; Leah could not resist a glance at his perfect derrière. His body was so perfect it put Michelangelo’s David to shame! She tried to swallow and noticed her throat had suddenly gotten very dry.
Jericho opened the parcel to inspect the precious and potent cargo.
“Leah, oh God, cover your nose!” Jericho’s alarm brought her to full attention. She noticed that both of the vials had cracked, and as the two chemicals came together, she could see them mixing and forming the most potent version of Potion Number Nine. If they did not plug the cracks and stop the reaction, they were about to become the human test subjects!
Jericho must have come to the same conclusion as she did, because he was trying to plug the cracks with his large fingers. In his fear and panic, however, he put too much pressure on the vials. They shattered completely. The blushing fumes began to rise. Jericho dropped all of it now and quickly removed his shirt. He tied it around his face to protect himself from inhaling the fumes.
Leah took control, throwing her jacket over the mess in hopes that it would not penetrate the thick fabric. Unfortunately, her efforts didn’t seem to be helping. She frantically jabbed at the emergency button and began to call for help. The chemical lust was making her choke and cough as her lungs filled with the oddly floral-smelling gas. She grabbed her BlackBerry and tried to dial. She cussed loudly, which was very out of character for her. There was no signal—the building was constructed of very durable materials, and in the elevator no one had ever gotten a signal. Leah wanted to scream when she realized just how screwed she was. Because of the previous emergency, no one was responding to their call; security probably assumed they were just getting impatient for their elevator to move again.
Leah tried to cover her mouth and nose, but it was too late. She was already feeling lightheaded, the first sign that the drug was taking hold of her. Jericho seemed to be fairing no better than she was, even with his makeshift mask. His pupils dilated; she assumed hers were as well. No matter what, she was still the scientist, so she began to mentally compile her data on their reaction. If they lived, she would have much to say about the effectiveness of the drug, as she was now experiencing it firsthand with her knowledge of its structure and of how the human body would metabolize it.
Jericho stumbled and dropped to the floor. His large frame made the elevator shake, but it still had not moved. Leah also lost her strength and sank down next to him. The gas was starting to dissipate, and they were still alive. For one moment of relief, she was sure that the gas was having no effect on her—and then it happened. Raging fire shot through her body, and she gasped for air. Her head fell back as her back arched. She felt as if she was on the brink of an orgasm right there, fully dressed and untouched on the elevator floor. Her keen awareness of Jericho’s eyes on her and the fact he was watching with interest, not saying or doing anything, made it all the more embarrassing and yet kind of kinky. Leah actually shook her head to try and clear that thought away. I am a scientist, and this is a perfectly uncontrollable reaction to a laboratory mishap, she reassured herself. I am in no way responsible for my actions, she thought as if pleading with her own subconscious.
Before she completely gave in to her loss of control, she managed to grab her jacket off the floor and flip it up to where the security camera was pointing directly at her. She did not want even more of an audience for her panting and writhing; it was bad enough that Jericho seemed to be completely aware of her predicament and enjoying it thoroughly. It made her hot just knowing he was the one seeing her need. She wanted him between her legs. She wanted him to fuck her right there on the elevator floor—an elevator that could start working any second, she reminded herself. Jericho’s perfect lips made her want to kiss him more than she’d thought it possible to want to kiss anyone. She was never the sexual aggressor in a relationship, but she suddenly wanted to pin him to the floor and remove his clothing until nothing but skin was rubbing together in delicious friction.
Whoa! Where had that come from? She wondered, trying to get herself under control. She was career military and damn proud of it; Leah was one tough lady who had always prided herself on her control and her commitment to the job. She tried to breathe and quell her raging lust, but the panting and gulping for air only made her think of how nice it would be to make Jericho pant with need for her. Even if she was plain, there were things she could do with her tongue that would make him scream hallelujah. She wondered how his sexy voice would sound calling her name, begging her to wring the pleasure out of him.
Leah moaned and smacked her head against the elevator wall as she battled against the need. She wanted to yell at him. He looked so comfortable! How was that crap not affecting him? He seemed totally in control, and it was making her crazy. She turned on her side, rolling on her arms and pinning them down to keep herself from touching him or herself, so intense was her arousal.
She glared at him. He was still lying on the floor, but he had his head propped up on his arm and was watching her with a bored interest that made her want to slap him just to wipe that smirk off his perfect face. Control was officially gone; she had turned feral in her lust.