“4 Nymphs!...The fourth release in the series...I liked the characters of both Max and Quint when they were introduced previously and enjoyed getting to know more about them in this newest release. The authors did a very nice job describing how their relationship had progressed over the last two years, as well as the painful emotional problems both were experiencing while trying to keep their love secret. I loved seeing the characters from the previous releases. They played important roles in this story but what was going on in their lives never overshadowed Max and Quint’s story. The sabotage aspect of the plotline is handled realistically, as is its aftermath. I, for one, am looking forward to the next release in this well-crafted and plotted series.”--Dragon Minx, Literary Nymphs Reviews
“4 Stars!...Although this book is labeled 'suspense/ mystery,' the actual mystery takes a backseat to Quint’s and Max’s relationship. Even so, there’s a considerable amount of action. The 'showdown,' in particular, is well-crafted and really exciting...A solid piece of skillfully cooked-up entertainment, funny, enticing, with a liberal sprinkling of suspenseful action and laced with sweet and passionate eroticism. I can recommend it.” --Feliz, Reviews By Jessewave
...God, it felt good when Quint forgot about work and decided to take the initiative. Max tilted his head back and let Quint ravage his throat. It had become so rare, these expressions of the power inside his lover. “God, babe, yes!”
“Shh, Max.” Rough velvet tones raked over his ear. “Just feel. I want to hear your heart pound and your breath back up and feel every move of your skin against mine.” Eager hands opened his fly, caresses teasing the waistband of his briefs. “I love it when you’re so wound up your voice becomes a whisper, a hoarse plea for what only I can give you.”
God knew it didn’t take much. No one made Max disintegrate the way Quint did. All those guys, all those clubs and parties…no one came close to the fire Quint ignited inside Max. Already his heart thundered, body hard and eager for whatever Quint wanted. Sometimes Max felt they’d never gotten completely past the arrangement that brought them together—Max was still Quint’s toy, there for whatever pleasure his sweet CEO wanted. The burn just got better each time those elegant hands brushed his skin.
He had absolutely no wish to protest as his jeans got stripped away, not when Quint murmured violent, heated love on his skin, insisting only he had what Max really needed. It wasn’t hard to concede the truth of that.
Just as easy were the times they did spend out of bed. Movies, quiet dinners, Quint sketching while Max worked on a sculpture…no one else but Sully had made Max so comfortable just being. And Lord, Max loved being right now; when Quint licked that one spot on his left hip, Max’s knees melted to jelly every damn time. “God, babe, that’s so good.”
Blunt teeth replaced the tongue. “Love doing this to you, darling.”
Oh, God, when Quint’s voice dropped like that, Max’s bones vibrated. The egotistical smile shouldn’t make Max want to scream in pure need.
Someone’s laughter from outside filtered in through the windows. A sharp gasp whistled over Max’s skin, and Quint pulled back abruptly. “Maybe we shouldn’t…”
“Oh, come on.” Max left his fingers drift through his lover’s hair, knowing it always made Quint tremble. “We can keep it down. Just think of the rush of sneaking around. They’re all outside anyway.” His bones ached with the need for this, any way he could get it right now. “Babe, please. You’re killing me here.”
Quint’s head remained turned to the window. “Perhaps we should wait until later. When the inn isn’t so…busy.”
“It’ll be a hell of a lot quieter later.” Max bit back a deeper curse and tried to force his body to relax past a knot of actual pain. Even if he could convince Quint to finish, now his lover’s mind would be all over the place, wondering who might be nearby, who might hear. Just useless. He sucked in a breath and gave up, swinging a leg over Quint’s head to move toward the bed. “Forget it. I need a cold douse before I get into swim trunks. I’ll be right back.” He strained the zipper on his duffel with a hard yank, pulling out a pair of cut-offs and his robe.
“Max, I…” Quint’s objection trailed off. “Yeah. A swim might be good. I’ll meet you downstairs.”
No further proof needed. If Quint really wanted it, Max would be slammed against the wall. Instead, it took all Max’s will not to slam the door on his way out...