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~ New, Sale ~

Kiss of Smoke

Amy Pennza

Chloe Drexel thinks her hot Scottish bosses are gay. But she’s wrong…and she’s about to discover they’re hiding more than their attraction to her. Like how they’re determined to claim their fated female, even if it means locking her in a tower in their castle and persuading her to stay in the darkest and most deliciously forbidden ways.

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Read an excerpt from Kiss of Smoke

I was both the luckiest and unluckiest woman in the world.

On the one hand, I was sitting in a private airport terminal, moments away from boarding a luxury jet with my sexy-as-sin boss. My Scottish boss—complete with a rippling physique and an accent that made my toes curl.

On the other hand, my other Scottish boss sat a few seats away from him. Just as drool-worthy. Same panty-melting accent.

And, like Boss Number One, totally uninterested in women.

In the three months I’d worked for Lachlan MacKay and Alec Murray, I’d never seen them so much as glance at a woman—or another man, for that matter. Not only did my bosses run one of the most successful hedge fund firms in the world, they had a romance passionate enough to make Romeo and Juliet jealous. Everyone in the office knew it was futile to lust after either man. They only had eyes for each other—a fact confirmed to me one evening when I stopped by Lachlan’s office to drop off some paperwork.

The door had been ajar, and I started to push it open when I heard a low, masculine groan. Worried something might be wrong, I nudged the door wider…and witnessed a scene that would forever be seared into my memory.

Lachlan had Alec up against a bookcase, and the two men were kissing like the world was about to end and they were trying to grab one last moment of rapture.

I froze on the spot, my heart racing and my brain telling me to turn around and get the hell out of the office. To stop intruding on what was obviously a private moment. But I couldn’t tear my gaze away. I stood there, riveted, my eyes on Lachlan’s crisp, white Oxford shirt stretched across his broad shoulders and his lean hips encased in a pair of gray trousers. I couldn’t see Alec that well, but I didn’t need to. I’d spent enough time staring at his body to know he was as tall and ripped as Lachlan. He was a Scot through and through, with red-gold hair and eyes the color of a lush, green valley. Lachlan was dark to his light, with brown hair and golden eyes that made my skin tingle whenever he looked at me.

But neither man looked at me that night.

As I watched, Lachlan slanted his mouth across Alec’s, giving me a glimpse of five o’clock shadow and high cheekbones as he deepened the kiss. Which was a very French kiss. It was obvious from the way Lachlan’s cheeks hollowed that he was thrusting his tongue hard into Alec’s mouth. Their strong jaws moved against each other, utterly different from the way a man kissed a woman. It was like they warred for dominance even as they took their pleasure.

My lips parted, and I grew damp between my thighs. I’d spent plenty of time fantasizing about my bosses separately, but seeing them together was like someone pushing all my buttons at once—and then punching buttons I didn’t even know I had. Goosebumps rushed over my skin, and I had to consciously remember to breathe so I didn’t pass out.

Lachlan broke off the kiss and braced his hands on a low shelf on either side of Alec’s hips, pinning the other man in place and giving me a clear view of Alec’s handsome face with its square jaw and cocky grin.

He flashed one now, his green eyes twinkling. “I thought you were too hungry for this,” he said in his soft burr, his sculpted lips reddened and slightly puffy. “We have dinner reservations, you know.”

Lachlan’s right hand moved between their bodies, and then Alec groaned, his grin slipping.

Because—oh God—Lachlan was gripping Alec’s cock.

My breathing grew uneven. Vaguely, I wondered if it was possible to die of lust.

“Nothing wrong with an appetizer,” Lachlan said on a growl, the muscles in his back flexing as he pumped his hand up and down. His sleeves were rolled up, giving me flashes of golden skin sprinkled with black hairs.

Alec’s breath hitched. “Point taken.” He tipped his head back, and his eyes slid shut. “Damn, Lach, you’re really good at that.”

“I’m good at a lot of things,” Lachlan rasped before leaning in and sucking at the other man’s neck, his hand still busy between them.

Blood rushed in my ears. This is wrong. I needed to leave. But my feet wouldn’t move. I leaned forward, straining to see more—

“Okay, there, Chloe?”

I jumped, Alec’s voice jerking me back to the present. Airport noises intruded, and morning sunlight streamed through the terminal’s long windows. Private jet passengers got their own space, but one side of the lounge was open to the main concourse, and business travelers in suits hurried past with cell phones pressed to their ears.

Alec lounged in the plush seats across from me like Sam Heughan on steroids, his friendly expression tinged with concern.

“Y-Yes.” I sat upright, squeezing my thighs together. “I’m sorry, Mr. Murray. I was just daydreaming.”

A teasing look entered his green eyes. “It must have been some daydream. Your cheeks are flushed.”