Monday, December 29, 2014

**Blog Tour Excerpt & Giveaway** THE LIBRARIAN PRINCIPLE by Helena Hunting


Annaliese Harper knows that one tiny mistake can jeopardize a career before it’s even begun. Letting your boss find the extensive collection of porn on your personal laptop is one way. Sleeping with him is another. Liese manages to do both.

As the new librarian at a prestigious small-town private high school, Liese is drawn to her sexy, charismatic principal, Ryder Whitehall—an attraction she refuses to acknowledge given their relationship and her recent liberation from a delusional ex-boyfriend.

Liese is certain Ryder’s flirtation is the product of her sex-deprived imagination—until he discovers her digital porn stash during working hours and demands a private meeting. Behind closed doors, their attraction explodes into a dangerous, passionate affair that not only threatens their jobs and reputations, but most of all, their hearts.


“We shouldn't be doing this right now,” he murmured.
“Probably not,” Liese whispered and bit his bottom lip while fumbling with his belt. No amount of reasoning could justify what they were doing, or the fact that they were doing it in his office right after they'd had a conversation about her stalker ex-boyfriend.
“Fuck,” he muttered as his hand moved lower to search for the hem of her skirt.
“Funny. That's exactly what I was thinking.” Liese grabbed his shirt and yanked it from his pants.
Frantic hands pulled at clothing, untucking and unbuttoning until Liese's skirt was shoved up around her waist and Ryder's erection left his boxers. She pushed him down into his chair and tried to straddle him, but it was too awkward a position. The driving need to touch each other made them both impatient. Ryder spun her around, and Liese groaned quietly as his fingers dipped low to find her ready. He kissed her lower back and then pulled her down onto him. 
They exhaled a soft moan in tandem as he slid in deep and stilled. Ryder pressed his face against the back of her neck, kissing her skin as he inhaled.
“We really need to be quiet,” he said, his voice muffled by her hair.
Liese pressed the heel of her palm to her mouth. Lips parted, she bit down to stop herself from making audible noise. They stayed motionless for a few moments, breathing heavily together. 
Eventually he began to move. Liese closed her eyes, absorbed in the sensation. She dropped her hand from her mouth to grip the armrests as he lifted her—retreating and filling, again and again. He took control, moving her over him at an unyielding pace. The chair squeaked softly with each thrust, but their need for each other trumped the fear of getting caught.
“I want you to come,” Ryder entreated in a desperate request. 
His fingers travelled lightly between her breasts and over her stomach to graze the place where they were joined. Liese parted her legs farther, then dropped down onto his erection, grinding in a slow rhythm.
He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his chest. The hand between her thighs found the place in need of his attention, and Liese bit her tongue to stop the moan that threatened to escape. 
Her fingernails dug into the nape of his neck as she turned and brought his mouth to hers. A strangled sound left him when she sucked his tongue between her lips. Sensation washed over her, warmth flooding her body to drag her down into the sweet undertow.
Ryder shuddered beneath her, peppering her lips and jaw with soft kisses.
“Does this mean you've given up on the no-naked clause?” she asked.
Ryder hummed and kissed her neck. “You don't look naked to me.”
“You sneaky—”
The phone rang, startling them out of their post-coital bliss. As the haze lifted, Liese became very aware of their location. They'd just had sex in his executive chair in the middle of a school day. She scrambled off his lap and Ryder rolled forward, taking several deep breaths before slamming his thumb down on the speaker button.
“Yes?” he barked. 
Liese cringed at his tone as she hurried to fix her skirt and retrieve her panties from the floor beside his desk.
Betty's voice filtered into the room. “Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Whitehall. I know you're in the middle of a meeting, but you have a visitor.”
*IF you want to avoid the sex, it could start here:
Ryder stared at the phone wide-eyed; Liese didn't want to imagine who could be waiting for him in the front office. It had to be someone important to make him look so frantic.
He covered the mouth piece and turned his head to the side to clear his throat. At the same time he furtively tucked himself back into his pants. “Pardon me?” He shot Liese a worried glance as she shimmied her panties up her legs and smoothed her skirt down. She surveyed his reaction, gauging her own unease based on his body language.
His rigid posture relaxed, albeit minutely, his eyes reflecting a new kind of disquiet. “I thought she wasn't going to be here until the end of the day,” he bit out irritably. “Tell her I'll be with her in a minute.”
He hung up and met Liese's petrified gaze. She hastily buttoned her navy blazer, thankful she'd worn it, seeing the rumpled mess her blouse had become. 
“My sister is early,” Ryder said through gritted teeth. He tightened his tie and fastened his own suit jacket to cover the majority of his dishevelment. 
“Oh, God! That's not good.” She ran her fingers through her hair, trying to tame it. 
“It could be a hell of a lot worse.” Ryder stepped forward and brushed her hands away from her hair, smoothing it out for her. His fingers caught in a tangled section, and he had to work to free them.
“It smells like sex in here.” She straightened his tie and stepped back, looking around the room for a secret exit; there wasn't one.
Ryder opened the top drawer of his desk. Wielding a can of room deodorizer, he released a spray of overpowering scent into the room. “Better?”
Liese grabbed the can, covering her mouth and nose so she didn't breathe in the fumes. “Now it smells like sex in a flowerbed. This stuff is horrible. Where did you get it?”
“It was in there when I took the job.” He motioned to the drawer. “It's better than my office smelling like sex. Isn't it?”
“Not really.” 
“Well, does it even mask it at all?” 

“I think so. It's hard to tell though.” Liese sniffed the lapel of her blouse. “I'm saturated in the smell of you.”



Helena Hunting lives on the outskirts of Toronto with her incredibly tolerant family and two moderately intolerant cats. She’s putting her degree in English Lit to good use by writing contemporary erotic romance. She is the author of Clipped Wings, her debut novel, and Inked Armor.


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