If you like your men dark and handsome, good looking with a touch of devilment and a to die for Irish brogue to whisper sweet Gaelic into your ear, then you'll adore Desmond O'Neill. If you've read my earlier Romance on The Go title from Evernight Publishing, An Emerald Heart, you met Des' brother, Dr. Ashton O'Neill, and go to know Des a little. In it, Des brings trouble to his college professor's door but he also does his best to clean up the mess he's made.
Des was just so intriguing he wouldn't go away so I wrote his story. In Movie Star Magic, Des takes center stage. And just as he does everything else, he takes California as if by right.....here's the amazing and sexy JIMMY THOMAS cover plus the blurb and then a hot excerpt:
Desmond
O’Neill arrives in Los Angeles from his native Ireland ready to make a new
life. Although he doesn’t have a job or
plan, Des is confident he’ll find his way.
After all, he’s gotten this far in life with good looks and charm. Fate smiles on him when he meets a major
movie star, Simone Sage. Better yet, she invites him home – and into her
bed. They share lust, not love but soon
their relationship reaches a new level. Neither uses the L-word - yet. Des knows he’s falling in love for the first
time but he likes the high life so he’s in no hurry. When he nets a movie role
of his own, life is sweet. A near
tragedy brings out their true feelings and leads them to a future neither one
expected when they met.
Movie
Star Magic (Evernight Publishing) $2.99
Excerpt:
Beneath
it, she wore nothing but skin. Her
gorgeous breasts hung ripe and full, nipples as pink as roses in bloom. Simone’s flat belly stretched downward to her
pussy, where the curls above her mound were as platinum as her hair. Impressed with a woman who would dye her
pubic hair to match her hair color, Desmond unbuttoned his shirt with haste
although his eyes riveted on Simone’s body.
Lean, long legs tapered down to small feet and her hair rippled over it
all. Every ounce of blood departed from
Des’ brain and headed down to his cock, which sprang to attention like a
soldier reporting for duty. He grew hard
so fast it hurt and his jeans against his erection created agony. Desmond stripped off the pants and removed
his underwear, feeling old-fashioned and prim to have worn any at all.
As
he approached her, Des thought it must be a dream. Maybe he remained on the plane, somewhere
over the United States but when he touched her, he knew it was happening in
real time. His hands circled her waist
and pulled her closer, her scent filling his senses. “Come here, woman,” he
growled. “Kiss me or I’ll die.”
“Talk
to me,” she begged. “I want to hear your voice, the Irish way you talk.”
“Aye,
then I’ll talk,” he told her. And he murmured every endearment he knew, some in
Irish Gaelic, others in English. Desmond
quoted poetry snippets he remembered, snatches of songs as his hands caressed
her body. Like silk, her skin felt soft
beneath his large fingers and he touched her with reverence, the way he’d
handle anything fair and fragile. He
whispered compliments as he touched her breasts and reached between her legs to
find her twat wet.
Then
he put his mouth on hers and forgot to think.
He couldn’t speak, not when his lips met hers in an explosion of
heat. God, but the woman could kiss. The way she mouthed him back made his hard
cock want to explode but he savored the sensations coursing through his
body. He burned hot, his body a flame
ready to consume Simone. She thrust her
tongue into his mouth and he thought he’d come from it alone. Her hands stroked him and then found his
dick. She used her long fingernails to
tease it and Des could bear no more.
He
forgot her movie star status. His posh
surroundings faded to black, as age-old lust became the force driving his
actions. Like any man with any woman,
Des yielded to need. He picked her up in
his arms, amazed at how light her body was, and carried her to the bed. His shoulders shoved the velvet draperies
aside and he tossed her onto the comforter, his hand parting her legs to
prepare for his imminent entry.
Simone
moaned with want as he reared back and came into her, his cock sliding deep
into her shaft as if it’d been custom made to fit. Exquisite physical delights echoed as her
pussy walls stroked him, tightened on purpose to caress. Des hammered her with force, working in and
out with skill and propelled by urgent need.
He banged her without remorse, screwed her with the same reckless spirit
he would any woman, cocktail waitress, teacher, whore or movie star. If he’d been coherent enough to think, he
might not have been so cavalier, so heedless in lust. Had he recalled he’d seen her movies play
across the theater screens, her picture in magazines, and remembered millions
all but worshipped her, he might have taken care, used more finesse.
But
he didn’t. He fucked her every way he
could, used her without remorse, and took his pleasure even as he gave her
delight. As they connected, his cock
lacked conscience and had little caring in his consuming urgency. Still, Des loved the way her pussy sucked at
his dick, enveloping it with warmth and moisture. He adored how she pushed her body toward him,
greedy for more and he delivered all he could until she milked him dry. He felt the rising tension, the growing power
and release coming. Des gave into it and
they rode the wild, crazy spasms of sheer delight together. Their sweat soaked bodies impacted one
another and when he came down, breathing hard and spent as if he’d run two
miles or more without stopping, her hair tangled around them both like a
web. Her cum and his mingled
together. Even this soon after Des
caught the unmistakable reek of their sex, their joining. His throat felt raw as if he’d hollered until
he became hoarse.
Simone
cuddled against him, her arms clinging to him as she made small noises. At first he thought she wept and as sense
slipped back into his mind, Des realized how hard he’d used her. ‘Twas
fucking for sure and love be damned.
“Mo chroi,” he whispered and
stroked her matted hair. “How was it for you?”
Certain
she’d lift her tear-stained face and scream at him, he steeled himself for
rejection. He made a mental search to
remember where his discarded garments lay so he could retrieve them and tried
to recall how to get outside. Maybe she
wouldn’t recall his name, he thought, and he wondered if he should try another
city, San Francisco, maybe until she could forget.
“Fucking
awesome,” Simone Sage said, her voice the delicious version fans would
recognize anywhere. “You’re an amazing lover, Desmond O’Neill.”
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