Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway: STIRRED by Nancy S. Thompson

I’m Eden MacLaird, and Fate screwed me good at the age of twenty-one, stole my first love, then my first child. Twenty years later, I still haven't found my happily-ever-after. Sure, from the outside, I have it all, including Declan, my gorgeous, rich-as-sin husband. But things aren't what they seem, and catching Declan in bed with my best friend destroys any dreams I harbor for love, much less sexual fulfillment. 

Then in walks Sean Bennett...

Just months away from earning his post-graduate law degree, Sean's smart, driven, and serious, but an unexpected encounter between us in a bar one night changes everything. His best friend, Trinitee, warns against getting too involved, but the heat between us is beyond intense, and neither of us are willing to walk away. 

With my marriage in shambles, I'm eager to make a go of it with Sean, despite our sixteen-year age difference. But while I relish my sexual reawakening, I fear giving up the posh life I've grown accustomed to. That life, however, and everything in it, comes crashing down as bodies start piling up around us, and all clues point to me and Sean. 

Secrets, betrayal, and revenge threaten to destroy not just my carefully-crafted reputation, but my very life. With our freedom at stake, Sean and I join forces to uncover those plotting against us. But as doubt and evidence mount, I must choose: give in to my suspicions and save myself, or trust our new-found love and save us both.

Sean spun back around and faced me, his head tilted just a hair and his dark eyes sharp and intent upon mine. 
“I know you wanna hit me, Eden. Smack me hard right across the face,” he whispered with the hint of regret, “and that’s perfectly understandable. Considering my behavior, you’ve every right. But I claim temporary insanity. I just can’t seem to control myself. You drive me crazy, make me hard just thinking about you, let alone looking at you.” He inched his gaze up and down my body. “I’m sure I’ve handled this whole situation quite miserably, but honestly, Eden, I’ve never felt this way before. Never met anyone like you. Nor done the things we’ve done. Not ever. Not like that. You drive all reason from my mind. With you, I don’t think. I simply react. And it feels right. It feels good, like I can be who I truly am, the most natural, carnal part of me; and you do the same. You don’t overthink it. You just let yourself feel it, be overwhelmed by it, by me, by this thing between us, whatever it is.” 
He took a small step closer, his chin over my shoulder and his sexy mouth mere inches from my ear. 
“I know you’re scared, Eden, that, after however many years in your stale, loveless marriage, you don’t understand what you’re feeling. It frightens you. But it also excites you, doesn’t it? There’s a war raging inside you right now. Your sense of propriety insists you do the right thing, refuse to give in, acknowledge your desire, surrender to your fantasies. But you want to. That tight little body of yours screams for it. And that knot down deep inside, it pulses with need, eager and hungry for my touch. I bet, if I were to reach up under that long schoolmarm skirt right now, slip my fingers under those lacy little panties of yours, slice through that sweet, bare flesh, I’d find you wet, wouldn’t I, Eden? So fucking wet. Throbbing and dripping, just for me. 
“Admit it. You want me to take you, to throw you down and fuck you from here to kingdom come then back again. You might say no, push me away, put up a fight, but that’s a lie, even if you refuse to acknowledge it. So I’ll make this easy. This…” he said, wagging his finger between us, “…whatever’s between us—it’s not over. This is what I want, Eden. I want you. You can’t stop that. You couldn’t the other night, and you can’t now.” 
He hummed a quiet moan, aroused by his own lecherous words, and retreated a step, putting a safe distance between us, not that it did any good. Like he said, there was an urgent need pulsing deep inside me. I was wet. So fucking wet. I was throbbing, so hard I had to squeeze my thighs together. And, God help me—though I would surely say no, struggle against him, and fight with every ounce of energy I had—I did want him to push me down and take me. To fuck me hard from here to eternity.

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Nancy S. Thompson Bio:
Nancy is a California transplant currently living in Seattle, Washington with her husband of 23 years, their son, a student at Seattle University, their giant snow dog, Jack, and his kitty, Skye. She works as a freelance editor for her publisher and writer friends and also has her own interior design business within the model home merchandising industry. When she's not writing or editing, Nancy keeps herself busy by cooking and baking.

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