Please give a warm welcome to Ranae Rose, who’s here to introduce the hottie from her story, Taken Hostage:
James P. Elliot
Build: Sexy construction worker’s body
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Temperament: Bold, confident and daring. Stays calm under stress. A leader, not a follower. Self-reliant and direct. But don’t let his tough veneer fool you…he’s got a sweet side too and can be caring.
Occupation: Bank robber (previously, a construction worker)
Hometown: Philadelphia, PA
Languages Spoken: English, Spanish
Favorite color: Dark blue
- The ‘P’ stands for Patrick.
- He quit smoking two years ago, and burned through that pack at the bank as an excuse for loitering on the steps.
‘James P. Elliot,’ she read. ‘Your name is James?’
‘Were you expecting something else?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I guess it just seems a little strange sincewe… Since we’ve been so intimate, without even knowing each other’s names. I feel like I should’ve known a long time ago.’
‘Well then, you’ll just have to break in my name – say it until it sounds natural.’ He grinned. ‘Tiffany.’
She gaped at him. ‘How do you know my name?’
Her purse had been left behind at the bank, and for all she knew it was still there, awaiting her return beneath the counter. She didn’t have any form of identification on her, even if he’d checked her pockets while she’d slept the night before – which might have explained her dream, now that she thought about it.
‘It was on the name plaque in your booth at the bank counter.’
Of course it was. She stared down at the plastic card in her hand and scanned the rest of the information, feeling somewhat silly. Fascination overwhelmed her embarrassment though, and she was soon absorbed in the
basic but fascinating information James’ license offered. He was twenty-nine, a year older than she was. And his blood – most of which had clearly migrated to below his belt – was type O positive. She didn’t need the license to tell her that he was tall, blue-eyed and gorgeous – she was well aware of that.
‘About breaking in my name,’ he said, leaning across the console and stroking her collarbone suggestively. She trembled excitedly beneath his touch as he traced a wrinkle down the front of her shirt until he reached
the bump that was her hardened nipple.
‘Here?’ she gasped, visions of a roadside tryst invading her imagination and spiking her arousal.
Are you an author? Have a character to introduce? Feel free to book a Tuesday slot: axvalenti (at) yahoo (dot) com.