Sometimes a throwback is just what the doctor ordered. In this case, it's what the paranormal investigator ordered. Who is that paranormal investigator? Ryan Black. Yep. He's suggesting I use Careless Whisper as the Monday Moan. Why not? So here's the Monday Moan and a little bit about http://www.total-e-bound.com/product.asp?P_ID=1094:
m/f, anal sex, domination
He's her kinkiest desire, if she's willing to open her heart and believe in him.
The dead don't always rest in peace. Some stick around to make the lives of the living hell on Earth. Ryan Black knows the frustration of dealing with the dead. He's a Ghost Explorer. He's conquered houses filled with apparitions, abandoned school buildings that house angry vermin, and managed to woo the female population of Snake Falls, Ohio. But he's about to face his toughest challenge—convincing sceptical Samara Jacobs she not only shares his gift, but holds his heart.
Women fall at Ryan Black's feet and Samara's determined not to be one of the many—that is until she's forced to work with him. He's certain ghosts exist and willing to prove it. As she gets to know the man behind the television persona, she decides the handsome klutz who chases things that go bump in the night isn't so silly after all. But is he worthy of her love?
Reader Advisory: This book contains anal sex and a little harmless domination.
And now for the moan!
“I’m sorry—she’s being herself.”
“You don’t have to apologise. I’m used to the digs and insults.”
She stared at him with wide eyes. She’d been hurt before, he wasn’t sure how, but the pain resonated deep in the blue orbs. He’d like to kill the bastard who had ribboned her dignity. Had he been any better, acting like she should fall at his feet because he told her so? Or maybe he should mention her gift and really drive her away… No, he sensed something stronger with Samara, something destined.
He shored up his courage. With Felicity, he believed the lies. For Samara, he’d be completely honest. “I wanted you to come along tomorrow, but not because you were forced. I know you’re a damned good camera tech. Why Tony had you moved to the cubicles is beyond me.”
“From what I’ve heard, he gets off on torture.” Samara shrugged and toyed with the brick in the amber retaining wall, scraping her thumbnail over the rough surface. “Look, I’m game for the investigation. You don’t have to beg or inflate my ego.”
He crunched the paper in his grip. “The waiver is a formality in case we get hurt.” His heart ached in his chest. Maybe he did like women who were out of his league, but dammit, he wanted Samara too much to ignore the feeling that she was more than just another female. “I wanted you to come along because I like you and I’d like for you to like Ryan, not the Ryan Black. Does that make sense?”
The faintest hint of a smile fluttered on her kissable mouth. “You’ve stepped through too many cobwebs. They’ve fuzzed your brain.”
Ah, the sass returned. He hooked his fingers under her chin, thrilled by the tiny gasp as she parted her lips. “For one of the few times in my life, my mind is perfectly clear.” Without thinking any further, he feathered a kiss over her mouth and bit back a groan. Damn, she felt good. Like a woman should, sweet, sassy, and soft in his hands. He closed his eyes and pushed the kiss further, tasting her. Honey, pure feminine honey. When she wound her arms around his neck, he fought off the urge to jump for joy. The one woman he wanted to desire him seemed like she did!
With languid strokes, he caressed her back and cupped the base of her skull. Samara Jacobs embodied calm and restraint, but her kiss intoxicated him like the finest whisky. The denim of his jeans pulled tight over his erection. He could almost imagine the velvet of her body as he slid into her pussy. Fuck yes, he liked her, probably more than he should.
He pushed into her mind for a split second, just to see if he could.
Ryan Black is kissing me!
Holy fuck. If he could hear her thoughts as if they were his own, then she was the one. His true Spirit Mate. Life couldn’t get better.
When he broke the kiss, Samara’s warm breath skittered over his cheeks. He had her on edge as much as he was—nice. She smoothed her hands down his chest, splaying them across his pecs. “You make it hard to think.”
“So do you.”