Captured Box Set, Day 6: Fast and Mine By Sharon Page

Quote+Card+-+Sharon+PageWelcome back Readers! This week has just flown by, hasn’t it? Speaking of flying by, we’ve got our biker story to cover today by the NYT & USAT bestselling author, Sharon Page, with her fast & flirtatious story, Fast & Mine.

Claire ends up learning more than she bargained for when she meets bad-boy Sawyer Tremaine. #CapturedSet #Bikers

Through illegal bike racing they find out more about themselves and each other that will test this new ‘relationship’ they are building.

Geeky college student Claire Thomas suffers a humiliating rejection from the man of her dreams, and vows to learn the tricks of seduction. Her friends have the perfect tutor—Yardley College’s gorgeous king of one-night-stands, Sawyer Tremaine. Claire makes a wild proposal to Sawyer: she’ll tutor him in exchange for lessons in pleasuring a man. But she doesn’t know he’s more interested in giving her the most sensual pleasure imaginable than in teaching her skills.

Sawyer is the hottest and fastest rider on the East Coast illegal street bike racing circuit, but he’s fighting to escape the dangerous world and its high-stakes gambling. His psychotic ‘sponsor’ will go to any lengths to force him to ride. Can Sawyer break free and protect Claire—or will he lose her once she learns the dark secrets of his past?

The Captured Box Set: 9 Alpha Bad Boys Who Will Capture Your Heart, is available now!


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❤ ❤ ❤

Excerpt from Fast & Mine by NYT & USAT Bestselling Author, Sharon Page

When we leave the restaurant, Sawyer slips his arm around my waist. Walking beside him, I feel tiny. My head reaches his shoulder. A cool autumn wind whirls leaves around our feet as we walk. We leave his car, as it’s only two blocks to the theatre.

Westingham’s movie theatre is in an old clapboard building and it plays up the small New

England town feel. Movie posters are tacked up outside.

Sawyer says it’s my choice—he’s happy to watch anything I want. There’s a romantic comedy, an action movie, and a serious drama. I go for the comedy. I figure there should be enough raunchiness built into it to make it guy-acceptable.

We take a seat near the back. I have the popcorn on my lap and I’m munching (it’s drenched in that gooey buttery stuff—oh yeah), when Sawyer puts his arm around me again. My heart leaps as his fingers stroke my shoulder.

Does he think this is the lead up to a one night stand? What if he does? I asked him for one.

Could I actually do it?

The truth is, I really, really want him. But to jump right into bed with him?

I ache to do something physical to him in the theatre. Run my foot along his? Touch his leg?

Kiss him?

I’m paralysed by a lack of daring when suddenly a woman on screen yanks off her shirt and two of the largest breasts in history bounce toward the camera. She’s supposed to be attempting to seduce the hero. I guess the hero’s struggle is that if he’s true to love, he doesn’t get to play with the huge boobs.

I squirm a little in my seat and shoot a glance at Sawyer. A lot of the guys in the audience are laughing, obviously attempting to deal with the sudden shot of arousal over being faced by boobs that could smother them.

Sawyer looks…bemused. That’s the only word to describe it. He has one brow raised. Then he bends over to me. “Sorry. I had no idea it was this kind of movie, Claire. You okay with it? We could go.”

“Uh, I’m okay.”

His mouth is so close to mine. Then he leans in that last inch and his mouth covers mine.

He tastes of butter-stuff from the popcorn. Of heat. His lips are so soft, but firm too. He captures my lower lip between his, tugs lightly, lets me go.

Desire rushes through me. I really squirm on the seat.

On screen, the large breasts are bouncing over the hero’s head. Sparkly red heart-shaped pasties cover her nipples—to get the appropriate rating, I guess. If the nipples aren’t bare, all that wobbly naked flesh is okay.

Sawyer isn’t paying any attention to the defy-gravity boobs. His lips brush my ear. It is barely a touch, but I feel like he just stroked me with a sparkler. Hot, tingly, sizzling.

I turn and kiss him on his gorgeous, sensual lips. In my excitement—and nervousness—I do it too hard. His kiss was slow and seductive. I know mine is clumsy.

His hand comes up and I expect he’s going to break the kiss. Instead, he tenderly cups my cheek and guides me, turning my awkward attempt into a hot, sensual open-mouthed ecstasy of a kiss.

I’m necking in a theatre. I’ve never done this.

I always thought it was weird that kissing is acceptable—that no one thinks much of it, and it’s okay to do it in public. It’s your mouth engaged with someone else’s mouth. It seems like the most intimate thing in the world, since your mouth is part of your head. When I think about it, joining private parts seems like a more distant form of contact than mouths.

Of course I would never voice these things. I would sound geeky, weird, socially strange.

Sawyer’s kiss makes me spin. I feel like I’m whirling in dizzying circles. And I want more.

Daringly, I touch his forearm. It’s like stroking iron, even through his jacket.

“I should put the popcorn on the floor,” I murmur against his mouth.

He moves it for me, then his strong arm slides around me and he draws me into a deep kiss that sets me on fire.

His seductive mouth melts me, turns me into a gasping, moaning puddle of desire. I’m floating in the heat he exudes, in the sexy, unique scent of his skin. He moves from my mouth and nuzzles my jaw, then my neck. My head falls back as I go weak with desire. I moan way too loud.

People turn. I clamp my hand over my mouth. Look at Sawyer with horror.

“I’ll stop,” he murmurs.

“No. Let’s get out of here.”

“My place?” he says.

Maybe this is it. Where our date moves into a hot sexual encounter and I get to try everything I’ve dreamed of with the most gorgeous guy on earth. Not to mention a guy who kisses like a god. A guy who saved a little boy’s life by being smart, observant, and having quick reflexes.

“Yeah. Your place sounds good,” I say. This could be it—my night to experience sex, if I want to. And, inside, I’m trembling with uncertainty.


About Opal Carew

Hi. I’m Opal Carew and I write erotic romance for St. Martin’s Press and Samhain Publishing, and I self-publish stories. I also write romance as Amber Carew. So why do I like writing erotic romance? I like being able to push beyond traditional boundaries. I like dealing with a female character who is growing and evolving – questioning her sexual boundaries and pushing past them. My stories usually include menage a trois. It is great fun to write a heroine choosing between two equally appealing heroes... or more. These aren’t women who just jump into bed with anyone. They find themselves in an unusual situation – something exciting and erotic – but a situation where they have to push themselves beyond their comfort level. As a result, they grow as a person. So often fear holds us back – of what others will think of us, of what we will think about ourselves – and we don’t follow our hearts. These women push past that fear. Get a free erotic romance read by joining my Reader Group. Just copy and paste into your browser ==>

Posted on September 22, 2014, in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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