A Naughty New Year with Robin Bielman and Giveaway

A Naughty New Year - Robin Bielman

Robin Bielman lives in Southern California, a bike ride away from the ocean if she’s feeling really adventurous. She loves books and baking and running on the treadmill while watching her favorite TV shows. When she’s not reading or writing her next story, she’s spending time with her high school sweetheart husband and two sons, most likely watching, playing, or discussing baseball. She drives too fast, drinks too much caffeine, and if every day were Cupcake Day, she’d be a happy camper! She loves to connect with readers.

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Hey everyone! Happy New Year! Dani, thanks so much for inviting me to be a part of your Naughty New Year’s Eve! While my characters aren’t quite as naughty as some of the smoking hot action going on here (it’s been so fun reading everyone’s post!) I hope this little peek at Quinn and Lyric from my New Year’s Eve novella, YOURS AT MIDNIGHT, at least gets me in the naughty fan girl door! =)

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Lyric went back to making trifles for the party tomorrow night. She layered sliced strawberries in the bottom of a glass serving bowl—and thought of feeding them to Quinn one at a time with her mouth. The next layer of angel food cake made her fingers sticky, and she thought about Quinn licking them. The third and fourth layers—whipped cream and vanilla pudding—had her thinking about smearing it all over their bodies and feasting on each other.

Dammit. She’d combust the second he walked back through the door if she kept this up.

She moved to the couch and lifted the lid off the pizza box. A carbohydrate feast ought to cure her—or at the very least, stop the lust long enough for her to get a grip.

Then Quinn walked in the door, mid-bite. Wicked twinkle in his eyes, kissable mouth, strong arms, and she dropped the pizza. Right on her lap.

She couldn’t ever remember her body thrumming with so much sexual tension. So much need.

He took care of the distance between them and picked up the pizza between her legs. His thigh brushed hers. She couldn’t breathe.

“Hank Jr., Joey, Lola, Troy and Emma all say goodnight,” he said, as if the electricity between them didn’t exist. Jerk.

“You remembered all their names?” Potent pulses of contentment drugged her.

I’m drunk on Quinn.

“Yep. And Max gave me a really wet kiss. I think he likes me.” He took a bite of the pizza. His words reached the deepest part of her.

She knew Max liked him. She’d seen it written all over his face when he was with Quinn. That’s why before this went any further, she had to tell him her secret. Maybe Quinn wouldn’t hate her for keeping it. Maybe he’d forgive her, since he’d come back asking for his own forgiveness.

Maybe he already suspected and was waiting for her to tell him.

Part of her had wanted him to figure it out on his own. Shouldn’t he know Max was his son? Feel it?

“You’re thinking way too hard,” he said. “Eat.” He plucked off the last piece of pepperoni and held it to her mouth. His fingers touched her lips and set off fireworks in her belly. “Let’s not talk about kids, let’s talk about why you have what looks like vanilla pudding on your cheek.”

He very slowly bent his head and licked the pudding off with the tip of his tongue. “Mmmm. I was right.”

She choked on the pepperoni.

With a smirk, he grabbed another piece of pizza and relaxed into the couch. His interest in the pizza really annoyed her.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “This is just sustenance to give me some extra energy.” His dark, heated eyes pegged her. “I’ve got plans for you tonight.”

“How do you know I don’t have plans for you?”

She’d do whatever he wanted. But he didn’t know that. Nor did she plan to tell him.

Okay, maybe she would.

“I’m sure you do. But we’re going with mine.”

She didn’t dignify his order with an answer. Instead, she nabbed her own slice of pizza—she needed energy too—and proceeded to pull the cheese into a long string with her fingers. She fed it into her mouth inch by slow inch, her tongue darting out until the gooey mozzarella disappeared. She licked her lips and gave him a look. Your turn.

He went to the kitchen and flipped one of the pudding cups on the counter into his hand. Sitting back down, he peeled the cover back.

“What are you doing?” She flung her pizza into the box and sat up taller, arms braced, hands curled around the couch cushion.

Please put it on your chest and let me lick it off you.

“Did you know vanilla is my second favorite flavor of pudding? Shit. I forgot a spoon.” He frowned and looked around. Like she kept them lying around? “In case you’re taking notes in that organized head of yours, butterscotch is my favorite.” His gaze settled back on her. “Mind?”

Before she could protest, he clasped her wrist and dipped her pointer finger into the pudding.

Right before he closed his lips around her finger, though, she jerked her hand and spread the pudding across the bridge of his nose.

“You did not just—”

Her finger took another dip, wiped pudding across his chin. She laughed.

He flipped her onto her back, pinning her beneath him on the couch. She squirmed against him. When he lifted her arms above her head with one hand, licked his lips, and squeezed the pudding container so the creamy vanilla dessert spilled onto the V of skin left bared by her shirt, she stopped wiggling. Every cell in her body was turned on, and she wanted to slow down. She wanted to feel every little thing.

“Oops,” he said. “I better help you with that.”

Playful, teasing, sexy Quinn kissed her jaw first, then slid delicate touches down her neck. She rolled her head to the side to give him better access. Each graze of his lips sent shockwaves through her. His thigh moved between her legs, and she shamelessly rocked against him.

His tongue burned a path to her chest. “This tastes much better off you than out of a plastic container.” He raised his head. “Or from a spoon.” Then he went back to licking up every bit of the pudding. When he finished, he moved up to her mouth.

The sweet flavor of vanilla filled her senses as he slid his tongue between her lips and showed her again how his kisses rendered her completely his. He swept in and ravaged her mouth with strokes of his tongue that demanded and caressed at the same time.

She arched up, tugged her arms down, and ran her hands up underneath his shirt. Muscle flexed under her fingertips. His skin, hot and smooth and hers for the taking, felt amazing. Better than the last time.

The last time.

“Quinn,” she said, hating to pull her mouth from his.

“No talking.” He plunged right back in and she kissed him back, mindless the second one of his arms snaked around her back, his hand lifting the back hem of her shirt. His other hand skimmed down her side, found her ass, and brought her more firmly against him.

Her body throbbed for him.

But she couldn’t go any further until she told him about Max.

If she didn’t come clean first, she’d feel like what they were about to do was a lie and didn’t mean anything—when it meant everything to her.

She pushed herself up. “I need to tell you something.”

“Tell me after,” he said, his tone husky, impatient. He pulled her onto his lap and cupped her breasts.

“Now would be better,” she somehow managed to say, even as she arched against him and looked up at the ceiling. Her head lolled back; she couldn’t stop her sigh of pleasure. He had amazing hands.

“Stop thinking so hard, Lyric.”

When was the last time she’d done that? She couldn’t remember. At the moment, she couldn’t properly think at all. Quinn’s very skillful palms kneaded and massaged and—

Oh god. His hands were magical too, because the front clasp of her bra opened before he lifted her shirt over her head and flicked his tongue across one nipple, then the other. Her bra slipped to the floor.

Okay, maybe she could tell him after.

Lyric Whetsone only had eyes for Quinn Sobel's brother Oliver, until a car crash took Oliver's life on New Year's Eve. Then, a moment of shared grief between Quinn and Lyric became something more impassioned, something that frightened Quinn so much he ran from Lyric's bed and her life, disappearing for four long years.

Now Quinn's back for another New Year's Eve, struggling for closure, desperate to leave his grief in the past and make amends with the girl of his dreams.

But Lyric has a secret--one that could drive Quinn from her life forever. Will Quinn run away from the love and acceptance he's always wanted...or will he claim his New Year's kiss and make her his at midnight?

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