Handcuffs and Trouble – WICKED DESIGN – erotic contemporary #TinaDonahueBooks #EroticContemporary #Tattoos #Handcuffs #SouthFlorida
South Florida just got a helluva lot steamier… During the day, the staff at Wicked Brand makes ink dreams a reality for their appreciative clients. After hours, this naughty crew engages in sensual delights as wild as the designs they’re selling. Their motto? Nothing forbidden. Nothing held back.
Wicked Design Blurb:
Handcuffs and trouble…
Clover wants Van Gogh. Bad. He’s the hottest ink artist at Wicked Brand and makes her blood race. Trouble is, he hasn’t noticed her. She’s determined to change that. Starting with letting him get under her skin—literally. But then the tattoo consultation goes a little deeper than expected.
In a night of wicked hot fun, she brings out his sexy beast. Talk about a major transformation. Soon they’re sneaking into the shop after hours to play with his chair and breaking in his new handcuffs. But when their differences start to arise, she’s not sure where all this hot sex will lead…
“It’s quirky, fun, hot, and a great little story!!!” Debbie B., NetGalley
“Wicked Design is fast-paced and hot.” Up All Night with Books
“Tina Donahue writes wickedly hot love stories!” Erika C., NetGalley
“I highly recommend taking a chance on this one it was so worth the read!! Van Gogh is serious book boyfriend material!” Monica B., NetGalley
“Clover and Van Gogh (V) are two strong, enchanting characters that stole my heart, both vulnerable and courageous, both immensely sexual and playful. Visiting with the characters of Wicked Brand is always a treat.” Eva M., BookBub recommendation
She stopped at a door on the left. Several white bags with Castillo’s logo stood to the side. “Wow, they’re faster than Domino’s. Hungry?”
He wasn’t—for food. The muggy air and heat intensified her fragrance, the scent surrounding him. He inhaled deeply. “You?”
“I could eat. Come on.”
“Wait. I have it.” He gathered the bags and tried not to stare at her place. The dining area, kitchen, and bedroom flowed into one another, the bathroom walled off to the side. An old-fashioned spread sporting lace and ribbons covered her mattress. Large enough for two.
Even in his wildest fantasies, he hadn’t expected this.
He pulled his gaze away before she caught him staring and hesitated putting the bags on the long table. Pliers, scissors, hammers, and wire took up the space. Serial killer tools if not for the glue gun, beads, and other artsy stuff next to them.
“Put the food on the bed.” She opened another window and turned on the fans. “We can eat there.”
If he could get anything down his throat. His hands shook so badly, the bags rustled as he lowered them to the mattress.
“Would you like something to drink? Beer? Ice water? Apple juice?”
Water was probably the best bet to keep him from melting, but his hammering pulse demanded booze. “A beer. Thanks.”
She tossed her silver bracelet on the table.
He cleared his throat. “Do you want to use plates or eat from the, ah, the…”
Clover dropped her tank top on the chair. She hadn’t worn a bra. Her breasts were firm, nipples surprisingly large, pink, and puckered despite the outrageous heat.
Every word he’d ever known evaporated. His mouth went dry.
“Eat from what?” She kicked off her sandals and slipped out of her shorts.
She hadn’t worn panties, either. Dark curls hugged her mound.
She padded to him, naked as the day she was born.
His heart slammed into his chest.
“Go on and undress.” She cradled his sweaty cheek. “It’s okay. It’s hot in here.”