Over the Threshold (4 page)

“Bec, you know I can’t promise I’ll always be
home. My career tends to take me away a lot.”

Becca placed her fingers against Parker’s
lips, dismissing his anxiety. “I’m fairly independent. I don’t need
you with me every minute of the day. Though if you go on location
somewhere beachy and sunny and filled with cabana boys, I’m tagging
along.”

Parker placed a quick kiss on her nose. “Not
a problem. But be warned, I plan on dragging you to the snowy, cold
places too to help me keep my feet warm.”

“Any other concerns?” She’d meant her
question as a joke, but Parker didn’t laugh.

“I want kids.”

Did he really think that would be a deal
breaker? “So do I.”

His face lit up. “Awesome. We’ll have a slew
of them.”

“We’ll have two,” she clarified.

He chuckled. “Fine. But if the first two are
boys, I reserve the right to talk you into three. I want a little
girl with your dark hair and spunky personality.”

“Alright. You have permission to try to
convince me to have more.”

Their friends laughed as they quickly sorted
through the list of major life decisions couples needed to make
prior to tying the knot. Then the justice of the peace asked if
they were ready to begin.

Becca nodded. “So ready.”

Emma and Shea hugged her, wishing her a
lifetime of joy and love. Jack and Travis shook Parker’s hand,
slapped him on the back, and then Parker and Becca took their
places.

Becca gave Parker the three letters he’d
asked for.

And he gave them right back to her.

They left together after a
brief, but romantic ceremony. This time the driver
did
take them to Parker’s
house.

Parker had actually asked her opinion before
buying the spacious bungalow in Los Feliz, bringing her to tour the
house with him and the real estate agent. Suddenly, a light went
on. “You brought me here last year to look at this bungalow with
you.”

He tightened his grip on her
hand. “Yeah. I wanted to make sure you liked it. I knew that
eventually I’d want this to be your house too. I actually intended
to ask you out for dinner that night, hoping to convince you to
date me, but I got called up for the role in
Just Another Kiss
after Jeremy Scott
backed out at the last minute, remember?”

She nodded. “You left the next morning and
spent four months filming in Paris.”

“And I hated every single second I was away
from you.”

She studied the quaint, bright red door and
the palm trees that flanked the small porch. She’d fallen in love
with the house the moment she had seen it. Now…it was going to be
her home too.

They held hands as they sauntered along the
flagstone path. It was late, but neither of them was in a hurry.
Time was on their side.

Parker dug keys out of his pocket, unlocking
the front door. Becca was about to step inside when he grasped her
arm and held her back.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

“Nope. For the first time in a very long
time, everything is right.” And with that, he lifted her in his
arms and carried her over the threshold.

The End

Want to find out how the
other Scoundrels couples, Emma and Jack and Shea and Travis found
their happily ever afters? Check out
Black
Jack
and
White
Knight,
available now.

Black Jack

By Mari Carr

When pirate Black Jack captures a ship at
sea, he considers the territorial governor’s haughty daughter part
of the spoils of war. Tying the fiery beauty to his bed, Jack
claims Emma as his…over and over again.

Jack has a secret. One he’s kept hidden from
his best friend Emma…

When she calls in a favor, asking Jack to
perform in a pirate fetish fantasy at the nightclub she manages,
Emma inadvertently opens Pandora’s box—for both of them. As
portraying a dominant pirate forces more of Jack’s secret desires
to light, Emma finds herself enmeshed in sensual explorations of
BDSM, wax play, bondage and sex in public that leave her
questioning her vanilla existence.

When a second heated interlude on the stage
finds her submitting to Jack, Emma suspects she’ll never find her
way back to her simple missionary lifestyle. But with Jack in
control…she’s not sure she wants to.

An Excerpt From: BLACK JACK

Copyright © MARI CARR, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave
Publishing, Inc.

Chapter One

“Let go of me!”

“Take it easy, lass. Come peacefully and no
one will be hurt.”

“No one will be hurt because I’m not going
anywhere with you.”

Black Jack Carlysle tightened his grip on the
young woman’s arm. He wasn’t accustomed to backtalk from any of his
subordinates and he sure as hell wasn’t going to listen to it from
a mere female.

“I don’t think you fully understand your
position here. My men and I have taken over your ship. Now we’re
seizing our reward.”

“Stealing is more like it. You haven’t earned
anything on our ship. You’re a thief and a heathen and—ouch! You’re
hurting my arm!”

“I may be all you say and more, my dear, but
the fact remains, I am the captain of this ship and you are part of
the spoils of war.”

The haughty woman slapped him. Hard. “We’ll
see about that.”

Jack was shocked momentarily. He heard a
sharp gasp behind him and knew his men had witnessed her assault.
He’d intended to take her below deck and lock her in the room next
to his. He knew who she was. As daughter of the territorial
governor, she’d fetch a fair price in ransom.

Her blow and fiery rage ignited his temper
and his final destination changed as he pushed her toward the
ladder that would take them to his cabin.

“You will pay for that, my lady. In my
bedroom.”

His threat pulled her up short and her
struggling ceasing. “You can’t be serious. Do you know who I
am?”

He chuckled mirthlessly. “I think the
question that should be asked is, do you know who I am?”

Her gaze narrowed, drawing his attention to
light blue eyes surrounded by thick, long black lashes. Her cheeks
were flushed a lovely pink due to anger and exertion. Her breathing
had accelerated, each hastily inhaled breath thrusting her full
breasts forward. She’d fill his hands nicely.

No, Jack thought. It wouldn’t be a hardship
bringing this hellion to heel.

“I know exactly who you are, Black Jack. And
if you think I’ll quiver at the mere mention of your dreaded name
like the rest of the fools on my father’s ship, then I fear you’re
destined for disappointment.”

He grinned, pushing her harder than necessary
toward the ladder. She stumbled slightly before catching herself.
She was provoking him, daring the devil inside to come out to play.
She’d struck him in front of his men. At that point, she’d lost the
right to be treated with courtesy. Now he needed to make an example
of her. Regardless of how much that idea rubbed against the
grain.

He liked to consider himself a
gentleman—usually beyond kind with the terrified women they’d
kidnapped in the past. More than a few times, he’d had to gently
convince the captive ladies to return home once their ransoms had
been paid.

Clearly that wouldn’t be a problem this
time.

She turned to face him once more, but before
she could speak, he raised his finger. “Silence, woman!”

He didn’t intend to wage this battle in front
of his men. It was high time she realized who she was dealing
with.

“How dare you speak to me—”

Jack growled. Bending forward, he put his
shoulder to the lady’s middle and lifted until her upper body hung
upside down along his back.

“What the—”

“I’ve warned you more than once, my lady. Now
you’re going to pay the piper.”

“Awesome,” Emma Potter said, wiggling loose
from Jack’s hold. “That was perfect.”

Jack pulled the bandana off his head and
stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans. “I feel like an ass.”

Emma laughed. “I owe you a big one for this,
Smacker.”

Jack ignored her use of the annoying
nickname. After years of friendship, she still persisted in calling
him by the silly name. She’d given it to him after they’d gotten
more than a bit tipsy at a bar the night Emma turned twenty-one.
She’d tripped and spilled her strawberry daiquiri down the front of
his shirt. He’d spent the evening smelling like a little girl’s
tube of Bonne Bell lip gloss. Emma had teased him the entire night,
calling him Lip Smacker. Sadly, fourteen years later, the shortened
version of the name still stuck.

“I don’t think there’s a favor big enough in
the world to repay me for this.” Jack leaned against the railing of
the fake ship, looking out at the empty tables and chairs of the
nightclub as he considered the fact they’d soon be filled with
clubgoers, all watching his weak attempt at piracy.

“True that,” Emma conceded. “You’re a
lifesaver, Jack. Really. I was at my wit’s end this morning. I bet
I made at least fifty phone calls.”

“Glad to know I’m so high on your list,” he
said sardonically, chuckling.

“Believe me, that call list isn’t one you
want to be on top of.”

He looked around and shook his head. “Still
find it hard to believe that you plan fetish fantasy shows for a
nightclub. I’ve got to admit, when you were making your valedictory
speech in high school, this wasn’t exactly where I pictured you
ending up.”

“Maybe not, but I bet you knew I’d be
organizing awesome parties attended by all the biggest names,
right?”

Emma had been the queen of the social scene
in high school. Jack thought it had probably surprised more than a
few of their peers to discover she had such good grades, given her
love of partying. Begrudgingly, he had to admit she was one of the
most naturally intelligent people he’d ever met. She had a
razor-sharp mind with a quick wit to match. Her photographic memory
didn’t hurt either. Quite frankly, it had taken very little work
for Emma to maintain her position at the top of their class. Not
that it had been a very large class.

They’d both enrolled in USC and moved to Los
Angeles from Bumfuck, North Dakota, determined to escape their
small town. The third in their small gang of friends, Travis, had
come along for the ride as well, mainly because he thought living
in L.A. would be a lark. Little did Jack and Emma know their
unmotivated, antisocial best friend would find his niche in the
City of Angels.

“Yeah, I knew you’d plan awesome parties.”
Jack reached up to rub his cheek. “Hey, did you have to slap me so
hard?”

She rolled her eyes. “You big baby. It wasn’t
that hard. Besides, the sound has to carry through the room to make
it authentic.”

Jack crossed his arms. “I hope your actress
doesn’t have your right hook or I’m likely to suffer a
concussion.”

“Not my fault. If you’ll recall, it was you
and Travis who taught me how to fight.”

“You were supposed to use those moves on the
frat-boy assholes at college. Not me.”

Emma shrugged. “Looks like I got a bonus from
my lessons.”

“Yeah, well, you try to lay another one of
those bonuses on my face and I’m gonna return the smack. Only I
won’t be aiming at the cheek on your face.”

“Promises, promises.”

White Knight

By Mari Carr

A sequel to Black Jack.

Shea Landon knows this is a bad idea. But
when you’re broke, tired and homeless, you do crazy things. She
decides to crash in her new place of employment, a fetish club,
borrowing the big, comfy bed that’s used as a stage prop. She
doesn’t realize she’s not alone…

Travis Knight knows this is a bad idea. As he
views his new waitress sneaking around the club after hours, he
realizes he should fire her, call the police. Instead, captivated,
he watches her on the same security monitors that separate him from
the world. Until watching isn’t nearly enough…

Two people—one desperate, one broken, both
hopelessly alone. Two people assuaging their needs through spanking
and sex games, bondage and taboo fantasy. It’s enough. It has to
be—when the biggest secret between them might be a tragedy neither
can overcome.

An Excerpt From: WHITE KNIGHT

Copyright © MARI CARR, 2011

All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave
Publishing, Inc.

Pulling out her tips for the night, Shea
counted the money. She had a little over two hundred dollars. She
sighed with relief, so happy to have money in her hands. It was
enough for a room at the fleabag motel—as she liked to call the
crummy place she’d been staying—and some food. Unfortunately it was
two a.m. and she didn’t like the idea of venturing into East
Hollywood so late. While she was desperate for a roof over her
head, especially after spending last night dozing in a Laundromat
chair, she wasn’t stupid enough to put herself in danger.

She rubbed her eyes wearily, too tired to
think. She couldn’t keep trying to exist from day to day. When
she’d come to L.A., she’d had a plan, a goal. She looked one last
time at the comfortable bed, wishing she could lay her head on the
pristine white pillow. Then she stood up and headed back to the
bar.

“How you doin’, kid?” Bill asked.

Shea had instantly liked the bartender. He
was a gruff-looking man—ex-Marine, according to Emma—in his
mid-forties. He was quick to laugh and just as quick to eviscerate
rude drunks. As long as patrons behaved at his bar, all was
well.