Janelle Denison: The Ultimate Seduction

The third book in the Seduction series, 2002

You've met Noah Sommers in my two previous "Seduction" books, and I'm thrilled to finally be able to give him his own story in The Ultimate Seduction. The title of this book pretty much sums up Noah's downfall as he finds himself protecting Natalie Hastings, the woman he's desired for months. Their relationship is not only sudden and unexpected, but also wildly erotic. It's a good thing there's a supersexy line like Blaze, because this story delivers forbidden pleasures and red-hot sexual tension! It will leave you breathless.

I hope you enjoy Noah and Natalie's sexy, seductive story. Be sure to check my Web site at www.janelledenison.com for updated information on many more Blaze and Temptation novels to come. I always love to hear from my readers. You can write me at P.O. Box 1102, Rialto, CA 92377-1102 (send a SASE for goodies!) or at janelle@janelledenison.com.

Enjoy the heat!

JanelleDenison

"If I had to choose one guy in this place to get naked with, I'd pick Noah Sommers. He's so damn sexy." Gina fanned herself with a cocktail napkin and slanted Natalie Hastings an envious glance. "Unfortunately, there's only one woman in this bar he's interested in, and it certainly isn't me."

With a patient smile, Natalie set down her serving tray at the end of the mahogany-and-brass bar as Murphy poured drinks for the waitresses to deliver to the Saturday evening customers. Her friend's insinuation was as clear as the crystal hanging from the glass racks overhead. Noah Sommers wanted her, and for the past nine months he'd made his interest in her blatantly obvious, despite how many times she'd turned down his advances.

Unerringly, her gaze sought and found the man in question, a gorgeous male specimen with dark, tousled hair, striking blue eyes and a lean, honed body made for sin of the carnal variety. He'd certainly inspired a few private fantasies of her own.

He stood across the room in the gaming area of Murphy's Bar and Grill playing a round of pool with one of his good friends, Bobby Malone. As Noah lifted a bottle of beer to his lips, she admired the strong line of his jaw and the broad chest that filled out his plain blue T-shirt. Snug, faded jeans encased lean hips, muscular thighs and long, strong legs.

Oh, yeah, the man was sin incarnate.

Noah turned his head as Bobby made his shot and caught her looking his way. A slow, sexy grin eased up the corner of his mouth and he winked at her, causing a tingling warmth and awareness to pervade her entire body. Suppressing her sexual reaction as she'd taught herself to since her last relationship, she smiled back and returned her attention to her drink order.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?" Gina teased. "Or are you just playing hard to get with Noah?"

Natalie rolled her eyes at her friend. "You know I don't fraternize with the customers." A personal rule she'd established for herself, and one Noah sorely tempted her to break with his devastating smile and male charm.

"Or anyone else for that matter," Gina added as she loaded drinks onto her tray. "And Lord knows with that killer body of yours you could have just about any man you wanted."

Natalie inwardly cringed at Gina's assumption. If anything, she tried to downplay the centerfold curves that turned heads, but the bar uniform she was required to wear-jeans and a kelly-green T-shirt with "Murphy's Bar And Grill" emblazoned across her well-endowed chest-didn't hide much.

Reaching for a wedge of lime, Natalie settled the garnish on top of the bottle of Corona on Gina's tray. "Trust me, this body is more a curse than a blessing." Her lush figure had brought her more heartache than joy, more insecurities than confidence, not that she'd expect anyone to understand what she'd been through before coming to live in Oakland, California, nine months ago.

Gina glanced down at her own insubstantial chest, then back at Natalie, her brow raised with amusement. "Pardon me, but my triple A's tend to disagree."

Natalie shook her head as she refilled a bowl of shelled peanuts for Gina's customers, then her own. "You know how the saying goes-you always want what you don't have." The statement certainly held true for her. She'd spent too many years as a young girl wishing for a flat chest and a couple of pounds off her hips, not that anyone had granted her request.

"I'm very familiar with the saying," her friend said with a toss of her dark brown hair. "And I covet those." Her hazel-eyed gaze dipped briefly to Natalie's chest. "I'm hoping the 'be careful what you wish for' saying comes true for me."

Natalie laughed, and Gina sashayed off to deliver her drinks, garnering a fair share of male attention as she crossed the room. In Gina's case, the ogling and playful come-ons of the male patrons were appreciated. In Natalie's case, she tolerated the comments and stares as part of the job and the reality of her life.

At the age of twelve she'd been wearing a size 36B bra, along with acquiring curvaceous hips and long legs that had made her feel like a giraffe. Her bust size had eventually increased to a 36D, and by the time she'd graduated high school she'd learned that most boys and men looked at her and thought of one thing: sex. They'd dated her believing she'd put out, and were sorely disappointed when she didn't allow their wandering hands to make it inside her blouse or pants. Even the boy at the last foster home she'd lived at until the age of eighteen had attempted to coax her into his bed, to no avail.

Amazingly, she'd remained a virgin until two years ago, at the age of twenty-three. Her first sexual encounter had been with Chad Freeman, a co-ed with her at the University of Nevada, Reno, who'd pursued her for weeks, until she'd finally accepted an invitation to dinner, which led to a series of dates thereafter. When she'd finally agreed to sleep with him, believing she was ready to take that intimate step, the experience had been awkward and one-sided. And their sexual encounters failed to improve for her. Despite wanting more physically, she'd settled for less-than-fulfilling sex.

As their relationship progressed, Chad's attitude toward her changed. He'd grown distrustful, domineering and jealous. Anytime a man looked her way he'd comment that if she didn't dress like a tramp she wouldn't draw so much attention. If she gave any indication that she wanted more sexually, like an orgasm of her own, he'd tell her she was easy.

He'd been a master at mind games, and the possessive relationship had continued until she'd accepted a job as a showgirl at a Reno casino to make some extra money while going to school during the day. Chad's temper had exploded for the first time, and after berating her for flaunting her body in front of other men, he'd demanded she quit her new job.

Done with him controlling her mentally, emotionally and physically, she'd refused his order and broken off their relationship, which only enraged him more. For the next three months he'd stalked her, threatened her and finally attacked her one night after work. Afraid a restraining order wouldn't stop his madness, and having no loved ones to leave behind, she'd packed up her meager belongings and abruptly moved to Oakland to start out fresh, leaving no forwarding address.