Excerpt Reveal: He Loves Me…KNOT by RC Boldt

REVEAL-COVER-HeLovesMeNot

Title: He Loves Me… KNOT

Author: R.C. Boldt

Release Date: November 14th, 2017

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blurb

Sometimes love needs a second chance…

I never looked back after skipping out on my own wedding, even if it did leave me estranged from most of my family. Eight years later, I have the life I’ve always wanted. As an advertising account executive, my world is damn near perfect.

Until I come face-to-face with my past. With the man I once loved. The man who holds my future in his hands. The man who’s hell-bent on getting even with me for leaving him at the altar.

Even with all the unfinished business between us, I still love Knox Montgomery. The only problem?

He loves me…KNOT.

 

excerpt

PROLOGUE

EMMA JANE

“BLESS HER HEART.”

This—the quintessential Southern phrase “bless her heart”—is the ultimate kiss of death.

The irony isn’t lost on me since I just avoided my own kiss of death, figuratively speaking. Instead of walking down the aisle, I’m trudging along the Pensacola Beach boardwalk in my wedding dress.

Alone.

With tear-stained cheeks.

Two elderly women peer at me, blatant curiosity etched across their features, and one turns to the other to hiss, “I wonder if the groom left her.”

“Would you blame him?” the other woman responds, disdain dripping from her tone. “She’s got a”—she utters the next words much like they’re absolutely scandalous—“nose piercing.”

The dark glare I direct at them is concealed by my sunglasses, so with a dismissive huff, I continue plodding along, swiping a hand across my tear-streaked cheeks. Judging by the black smudges on my fingers, my waterproof mascara clearly lied.

Damn jackass mascara.

Damn jackass groom. I’m starting to see a trend here…

The longer I walk, the more stares I get. One little girl in a tutu bathing suit points to the top of my head and squeals with joy, “Look! A princess!”

Damn jackass tiara and veil my mother insisted I wear.

I march over to a large trash bin and—without any finesse whatsoever—begin tugging the pins holding this awful tiara-veil combo in place. As I’m attempting to remove it, agitation takes over due to my sad lack of progress. I bunch the veil in my fists and give it a firm tug from my elaborate up-do. Bobby pins shoot and ping in various directions, and I distractedly pray no one gets too close and loses an eye. Shoving the obscene length of fabric in the trash, I feel a bit lighter.

The June sun beats down on me as I stand on the stamped cement of the boardwalk, the heat radiating through the soles of my favorite flip-flops. My eyes flutter closed as I inhale a deep breath of the salty Gulf of Mexico air.

God, I love this beach. It’s always been one of my favorites, especially since it takes just under an hour to drive here from Mobile. The water is a gorgeous shade of blue-green, and the sand is perfectly white and free of pesky shells. Any other time, I’d be kicking off my flip-flops and running toward the surf. Now, though, I have different priorities: a stiff drink. Or ten.

Or twenty.

The challenge is finding a place where I might not draw attention—er, as much attention. I slowly survey the nearby choices of bars and restaurants lined up along the boardwalk; I scan and dismiss them one by one.

“No…no…no…n—”

Wait a minute.

One particular sign snags my eye. It has an outline of two men standing back to back, their forms filled with a swirl of rainbows and the name Be-Bob’s written in script-like font beneath it.

A gay bar.

Perfect.

With my key ring clipped to my small wristlet, I stalk over to the bar, doing my best to ignore the startled looks and gawking from other beachgoers. Tugging open the heavy door, I step over the threshold and into the brisk air conditioning.

Into a place where I might find slightly more acceptance.

I slide my sunglasses to rest atop my head and take a moment to allow my eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. There are only about eight people scattered about, chatting over drinks. When I don’t earn more than a brief glance before they return to their own conversations, I breathe my first sigh of relief. Most of the patrons are likely indulging in the great weather and enjoying a Saturday at the beach, not looking for refuge and hiding out like I am.

I scan the framed photos that adorn the walls featuring local drag queens and scantily clad male models before striding over to the bar. I hoist myself up onto a worn leather bar stool, and catch the eye of the only bartender behind the counter. He appears to be taking inventory of the liquor, if his clipboard is anything to go by.

When he turns around and gets the full visual of me, his expression is priceless, his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline. I’d laugh if I had it in me, but I’m emotionally spent.

As he regards what’s visible to him from the top of the bar on up to my hair, his light brown eyes soften and the corners of his mouth tip up slightly. Without batting an eye, he reaches below the counter and produces a wet wipe. I gratefully accept it and he rests his forearms upon the lacquered surface, regarding me with interest as I rid my cheeks of the dark mascara streaks.

The bartender waits until I’m finished and then accepts the wipe from me before tossing it into the trash.

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever served a runaway bride before.” My makeup-fail savior appears to gauge me, as if expecting me to burst into a river of tears.

Funny enough, the drive here has expended me of those and I’m firmly entrenched in the anger stage of my fiancé’s betrayal.

I prop an elbow on the bar, rest my chin on my palm, and offer what I know is the weakest excuse for a smile. “There’s a first time for everything, right?”

He doesn’t immediately answer, eyeing me curiously until his lips stretch into an easy smile. His eyes do that little crinkly thing at the corners and he has what I call “kind eyes.”

Then again, I remind myself, what the hell do I know?

I’m clearly not the best judge of people. That much has become all too evident.

The bartender reaches out a hand. “Casey.”

I grasp his hand, noting his impressive manicure. This guy’s cuticles are better than mine and I love the shade of metallic gray polish on his nails. “Nice to meet you, Casey. I’m Emma Jane.”

He reaches beneath the bar and I hear a clinking as he scoops ice, before he brings a cup into view. Then he works his magic, and pours in a bit of this and that from one bottle to the next. Finally, with flourish—and a maraschino cherry tossed in—he slides the plastic cup across the smooth surface.

“It’s my special, secret mix. I call it”—he leans in toward me and lowers his voice, his eyes dancing with mischief—“the Panty Dropper.”

One of my brows arches as I stare back at him with dismayed skepticism. “I hardly think I’m a prime panty-dropping candidate right now.”

Casey lifts a shoulder in a half shrug, his eyes flickering over my shoulder before returning to me. His smile grows wider. “You never can tell.”

With a tiny laugh, I shake my head and wrap my lips around the straw to take a sip of the concoction he’s made me. Just as I swallow the sweet drink, I both feel and smell a person sidle up next to me at the bar.

Hell. The reason I came here was because I thought for sure my chances of getting hit on would be slim to none. But, as I glance at him from the corner of my eye, I observe strong, muscled forearms, tanned and sprinkled with dark hair. The scent of him is appealing and masculine, a cologne that doesn’t overpower. Just the sight of those arms alone, however, makes me incredibly wary to see the rest of him.

Casey doesn’t address the newcomer, his focus still on me. “I’m all ears, Emma Jane. Been told I’m a great listener.”

Good Lord. Where do I even start?

Before I can answer, the man speaks up, his deep voice booming. “Are you cheating on me, Case?” He makes what sounds like a gasp of exaggerated indignation. “I can’t believe you’d betray me like this.”

I glance up to see Casey’s expression full of mirth, and he rolls his eyes. “You know better. I’m still waiting on you to switch over.”

A husky laugh greets my ears and it sounds far too male—far too appealing—which is why I refuse to turn and look at the man beside me.

“I might switch if you’d agree to root for my team.”

“Not gonna happen,” Casey scoffs before his gaze meets mine. “Isn’t that drink exactly what the doctor ordered?”

I muster up a smile because he seems like a sweet guy. “It is.” With a start, I realize I haven’t given him my card to pay or at least start a tab. I reach for my wristlet. “What do I owe you?”

He waves me off. “Honey, that one’s on me as long as you promise to dish before we get slammed in a few hours.”

A loud exhale spills past my lips. “It’s a pathetic story, really.”

“Let me guess.” Mr. Forearms’s husky voice is a deep timbre, amusement threaded in his tone. “You caught him with your maid of honor.”

I let out a harsh laugh and fiddle with my straw, using it to move around the ice cubes in my drink. “Nope.” If only it were that simple, I muse internally.

“Caught him with his best man?”

This time, his suggestion drags a lighter sounding laugh from me. “Not even.”

“Well, you know I can’t leave here without hearing the story. I’m intrigued.”

This guy is something else, that’s for sure. His voice is the epitome of sexy, and yet, even with all that’s transpired, I have zero interest.

Finally, I drag my attention from my drink and my eyes travel up those muscled forearms, over the bulging biceps stretching the short sleeves of a dark-blue polo shirt and up to the face that—

My breath catches in my throat as recognition floods me, my eyes widening as I take in the man beside me.

Becket Jones, the quarterback for the NFL team in Jacksonville, Florida. He’s a two-time Heisman Trophy winner from the University of Florida and had been the second overall draft pick by the Jacksonville Jaguars. Adding to that impressive resumé, he’s been recently voted MVP and is also a Lombardi Trophy recipient. His face is in commercials and on billboards everywhere. Living in Mobile, Alabama, and in a state without a pro football team, most of us either gravitate toward the Atlanta Falcons, the New Orleans Saints, or the Jacksonville Jaguars.

I don’t follow NFL as closely as college football, but I’d have to live under a rock to not recognize Becket and his pretty-boy face. Even beneath the brim of the ball cap, which curls under at the edges and draws shadows over his eyes, I’d recognize that wide charming smile of his anywhere. He’s slouching against the bar but I know he pushes well over six feet.

His features cloud as he observes my response, his large hand reaching up to tug his cap lower. “Please don’t tell me you’re going to sell some seedy story about seeing me in a gay bar to a stupid gossip rag.”

“Of course not. I’m just…” I falter for a moment, “surprised.”

His chin lifts, gesturing to a couple of guys standing nearby a jukebox, laughing and talking. One of them is wearing a shirt with bright pink flamingos printed on it, along with a yellow feather boa draped around his neck.

“I’m with my brother, Brantley—the one who insisted on that crazy getup—and his roommate, Vonn, whose birthday we’re celebrating.” His eyes flicker to them briefly, obvious affection in his gaze, before returning to me. “I drove in from Jacksonville late last night to join them.”

I nod politely, not sure what to say. “Well, I hope you guys have a great night.” I turn back to my drink and studiously take another sip of the dangerous concoction while acknowledging Casey and Becket’s attention is fixed on me with unfettered curiosity. This drink is deliciously sweet and I know it’s masking the copious amount of liquor Casey put in it. And I can’t get hammered. I should—and I really want to—but I can’t. I have bigger fish to fry.

Like figuring out my freaking life.

With a long sigh, I unzip my wristlet and withdraw my cell phone—whose ring had been silenced—to face the “music” I know is about to blare at me.

Let this be noted as mistake number one. Because I’m certain my phone is going to overheat from the number of text messages and missed calls I’ve received already. Mainly, the ones from my father.

Dad: You’d better get back here now, young lady.

I continue scrolling past all of his other messages until I get to the last one, time stamped from about five minutes ago.

Dad: Consider yourself disowned. Don’t even think of coming back to this house after the way you’ve embarrassed everyone.

Huh. Well, thank heavens I’d already thought of that and had made a quick stop at the house before driving here. I’d scooped up the items I’d need most, knowing my father’s reaction would be extreme. Maybe I was delusional, but I’d hoped it wouldn’t come to this.

Just as I’m about to place my phone back in my wristlet and avoid the remainder of the painful messages sure to come, another one comes in.

Dad: Forget your job at the magazine. It’s done. You’re done. You did this, Emma Jane.

My chest tightens and my stomach churns sickly. I knew it was coming but it doesn’t make it any less devastating. I’d worked my ass off for Southern Charm Lifestyle magazine at their new location in Mobile. I know I have the potential to rise up in the ranks.

But now it’s gone. Poof. All because of my father. The one and only Davis Haywood, city councilman, owner of the local newspaper and the city’s largest magazine, and commercial developer galore. He has the money and power to make things happen in Mobile.

I just never thought he’d use that money and power against his own daughter one day.

“So.” Becket startles me, so caught up in my own drama-filled thoughts. “You might not know this about me, but I was brought up to be a gentleman.”

I regard him warily, unsure where he’s going with this. “O-kay,” I drag out the word slowly.

“This means I can’t leave you sitting at this bar, staring down at your phone, looking like your puppy just died.”

I shoot him a hard glare that would normally cause people to rear back…but then I recall that this man faces the risk of being tackled by two-hundred-plus-pound men on any given game day.

So, as much as my dangerously narrowed eyes might flare with the “Don’t even go there” vibe, my glare does nothing.

He looks around first before slipping his ball cap around on his head, the brim now at the back. And honestly, on any other grown man, it would look juvenile. On Becket Jones, however, it actually looks cute.

Casey slides a bottle of water to him, which Becket uncaps before downing half of it. Resting his arms on the bar, he playfully nudges me with his shoulder.

“Go ahead. Spill.”

Exhaling loudly, I peer up at him skeptically. “You really want—”

“To hear all the sordid details?” He grins at me, nearly blinding me with his pearly white teeth. “Absolutely.”

Shaking my head at him, I take another sip of my drink and toy with my straw, making the ice cubes clink together within my cup. “Fine. But don’t you dare give me a bless your heart that’s chock-full of pity.”

“Deal.”

Letting a long sigh loose, I answer, my voice muted and laced with pain. And I hate the way it sounds.

“I’m running from a man who doesn’t really love me.”

 

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Review & Excerpt Tour- Stud Finder by Lauren Blakely

STUD FINDER - Tour banner

Title: Stud Finder

Author: Lauren Blakely

Genre: Contemporary Romance Novella

Release Date: September 26, 2017

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Watch the Trailer for Stud Finder!

 

blurb

Man seeking woman: Hot, rich, smart, witty, self-made multimillionaire Internet genius seeks classy, intelligent, sexy, fun-loving woman who’s interested in settling down and sharing all the good things.

There. Best. Ad. Ever.

I will absolutely find the woman of my dreams, someone who’ll love me for me. Even if my sister thinks I need help dating, I’m confident I can pull this off, courtesy of the great worldwide web.
Let me just hit the upload button right now…

* * *
No. Just no. As a woman and a professional matchmaker, I can’t let Dylan Parker run this ad. He’s the catch of all catches. That’s why his sister has asked me to help her ridiculously good-looking, insanely rich, but socially clueless brother find a woman. As a broker of happily ever afters, I’m known as the Stud Finder since I make a great living pairing wildly successful women with men who won’t fleece them but will adore them. After all, what woman in her right mind wouldn’t fall in love with Dylan?

I mean, besides me. It totally won’t be me.

 

excerpt

The problem solver in me comes out in full force. I must show him the beauty of a made bed. “Come with me.” I grab the basket of mostly-eaten chips, dump the rest, return the salsa tubs to the counter for cleaning, and reach into my wallet to leave a generous tip in the jar.

He clasps his hand over mine, shaking his head. “My treat,” he says, his voice a soft, sexy whisper. I want to protest, to tell him I insist, but he curls his hand tighter, and I’m speechless.

His hand on mine sparks a wave of goosebumps on my arms, my body telling me I like his hands on me. I want more of his touch. I imagine how I’d feel if he ran his hand up my arm, to my shoulder, through my hair. A shudder races through me, and I do my best to tamp down my reaction to a suddenly overactive imagination.

“Thank you,” I say, my voice like a feather.

“You’re welcome.” His eyes never stray from mine, and for a sliver of time he holds my gaze by the counter at Mama une’s.

Then I wrestle my attention back to my plan. We leave, and fifteen minutes later, I stroll through the front doors of the Luxe Hotel. My friend Nate Harper is the CEO, and I’ve texted him for a quick favor. The concierge greets me and hands me a room key card. Dylan and I walk past the chichi sushi restaurant in the lobby, head to the elevator, and soon arrive at room 521. I slide the card in the door.

Dylan sets a hand on my arm. “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“No,” I say quickly. Too quickly. I’m not trying to seduce him at all.

I open the door, and a perfectly modulated blast of cool air greets us. We stroll across the navy carpet to a king-size bed perfectly appointed with a gorgeous white duvet and mountains of blue velvet pillows. I gesture to it, as if I’m a saleswoman, showing it off. “Tell me. Doesn’t this bed make you want to do everything on it?”

Then, to demonstrate my point, I fall back onto it, like a snow angel.

I prop myself on my elbows and meet his eyes. His green irises darken, and his lips part. He stares at me, and something shifts. The look in his eyes is no longer challenging. He’s not asking me to prove a point. His eyes are hungry. He stares as if he’s considering my question seriously, and I realize that maybe it does sound as if I’m trying to seduce him. I’ve pushed the limits here. I’m in a hotel room, trying to prove a point to a client, and in reality, my skirt is riding up my thighs, and I’m sprawled on a pristine, inviting bed.

He makes her feel like a princess

 

Find Stud Finder on Amazon!

 

 

ATAs

A #1 New York Times Bestselling author, Lauren Blakely is known for her contemporary romance style that’s hot, sweet and sexy. She lives in California with her family and has plotted entire novels while walking her dogs. With fourteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than eighty times, and she’s sold more than 2 million books. In October she’ll release HARD WOOD, a sexy, standalone romantic comedy. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter!  laurenblakely.com/newsletter

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Newsletter ** Goodreads

 

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Sneak Peak- BEAUTIFUL MISTAKE by Vi Keeland

BeautifulMistake_FrontCover

Title: Beautiful Mistake

Author: Vi Keeland

Release Date: July 17th, 2017

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blurb

The first time I met Caine West was in a bar.

He noticed me looking his way and mistakenly read my scowling as checking him out.When he attempted to talk to me, I set him straight—telling him what I thought of his lying, cheating, egomaniacal ass.

You see, the gorgeous jerk had wined and dined my best friend–smooth talking her into his bed, all along failing to mention that he was married.

He deserved every bit of my tongue-lashing and more for what he’d done. Especially when that lazy smile graced his perfect face in response to my rant. Only it turned out, the man I’d just told off wasn’t the right guy.

Oops.  My mistake.  

Embarrassed, I slunk out without an apology.  I was never going to see the handsome stranger again anyway, right?

That’s what I thought…until I walked into class the next morning.

Well, hello Professor West, I’m your new teaching assistant.

I’ll be working under you…figuratively speaking.

Although the literal interpretation might not be such a bad thing—working under Professor West.

This was going to be interesting…

 

excerpt

The class was completely empty. I wasn’t even sure he knew I was still in my seat. If he did, he was good at ignoring me as he packed up his laptop.

“Contrary to the rumors you’ve probably heard, I don’t bite.”

I jumped when he spoke. Now that the lecture hall was no longer filled with students, the acoustics of the large space bounced his deep voice all over the walls.

I stood and began my walk of shame down to the front of the classroom. There was no doubt I owed the man an apology, even if he wasn’t a professor—a professor who would be my new boss for at least the next fifteen weeks. I wanted to kick myself in the ass for not apologizing last night before I left the bar. Now it would seem like I was only doing it because of the situation I was in.

Which was true, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t want it to seem that way.

I took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry about last night.”

His face was unreadable. “I figured you might be, right about now.”

“I obviously thought you were someone else.”

“So I assumed. You thought I was the asshole. The one with the big dick, was it?”

I shut my eyes. For the last ninety minutes, I’d replayed the entire exchange from last night over and over in my head. I thought I’d remembered everything I said, but apparently I hadn’t. When I reopened my eyes, Professor West was still watching me. His stare was pretty damn intense.

I started to babble. “My friend Ava went out with this guy Owen for a month or so. He was full of shit from day one, but she didn’t see it. Actually walked up to her when she was leaving work one night and said, ‘Do you mind if I walk you home? My mother always told me to follow my dreams.’ She fell for it, the entire act, from the first day. Then one Saturday, he was supposedly out of town on business, and she was across town running errands for her mother. She took a shortcut through Madison Square Park on her way back from the grocery store and ran into him. He was with his wife and kids.”

“And you thought I was him, apparently?”

I nodded. “She came in during my shift and started drinking Long Island iced teas. When Owen walked in, she pointed to where he was standing and said he was the one in the blue shirt.”

“And we were both wearing blue shirts, I take it?”

I couldn’t help but smile, thinking of Ava last night. “Actually, no. Ava’s not much of a drinker. Turned out she was more sloshed than I thought. Owen’s shirt was brown—not even black that could be mistaken as navy or something.”

I saw Professor West’s lip twitch.

“Anyway, I’m really sorry. I barely gave you a chance to speak, and then when I realized what had happened, I was so mortified I didn’t even stop to apologize.”

“I accept your apology for last night. Even though you shouldn’t be approaching a man in the hallway to tell him off alone, your intentions were admirable.”

I should have shut up and been grateful he’d accepted my apology. Should have. “Why can’t I approach a man in the hallway?”

He leveled me with a stare. “Because you’re five foot nothing in a loud bar, and no one would have heard you if I’d dragged you into the men’s room and locked the door.”

I folded my arms over my chest. “I can take care of myself.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. I said you shouldn’t put yourself in those situations.”

“But you insinuated that I couldn’t by making that statement.”

He zipped his leather bag closed. “Ms. Martin, I just accepted your apology for calling me an asshole last night. Would you like me to retract that acceptance?”

God, I really was an idiot. Being around this man seemed to turn me into a psychopath. “No. I’m sorry. I acted like a jerk, and I’d like to start over, if that’s possible.”

He nodded. “Everything prior to this morning is forgotten.”

“Thank you.”

“But this morning is not. I won’t accept lateness. Don’t let it happen again.”

I swallowed. “It won’t.”

He lifted his worn, brown leather laptop bag over one shoulder. “Meet me here at five tomorrow. We’ll go over the syllabus and the classes you’ll teach, as well as my grading rubric.”

That was smack in the middle of my shift, but I’d figure something out. “Okay.”

“Are you done for the day?”

“I am. I actually have to get to work. I’m covering Ava’s shift because she isn’t feeling too well after last night. We both work at O’Leary’s.”

“You waitress there?”

“Waitress, bartend, occasionally tell off patrons.”

That earned me a full smile from Professor West. God, he should do that more often. No, forget that. He definitely shouldn’t.

“I’ll walk out with you.”

We walked through the halls together and out to the parking lot. When we arrived at my car, I stopped. “This is me. So…five o’clock tomorrow?”

Professor West looked at my beat-up old Subaru. “You’re parked in a spot reserved for the Provost. You got a parking ticket.” He squinted. “Actually, it looks like you have two parking tickets. Was your inspection expired or something?”

Crap. “Umm…no. I keep an extra ticket in the glove compartment and stick it on my windshield when I’m forced to park illegally.”

His brows shot up. “Inventive.”

“Obviously it doesn’t always work.”

“Obviously.”

“They need more parking. When you’re late, it’s impossible to find a spot.”

He studied me. “Lateness is a frequent occurrence for you, I take it?”

“Unfortunately, it is.”

“Then I should clarify something I said earlier.”

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. I won’t be late for your class.”

He took a step closer and leaned in. “I’m glad to hear that, Ms. Martin. But that’s not what needs clarification.”

I swallowed. God, he smells good.

“Earlier I told you I didn’t bite students.” He smiled, and I felt the wickedness from it shoot down to some interesting places. “I don’t. But I make no promises about not biting feisty TAs.”

 

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Excerpt Reveal: STRONG ENOUGH by Melanie Harlow and David Romanov

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Title: Strong Enough

Authors: Melanie Harlow & David Romanov

Genre: Contemporary MM Romance

Release Date: June 19, 2017

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blurb

I wasn’t looking for Derek Wolfe.

I wasn’t looking for anybody. All I wanted was to start a new life in America. But when I found myself stranded here with no place to go, he came to my rescue, offering me a place to stay.

He’s smart, successful, and sexy as hell—I can barely sleep knowing he’s right down the hall. And when the chemistry between us explodes one night with fierce, fiery passion, it’s hard to deny there’s something real between us.

But he does.

He says he was drunk. He says it was a one-time thing. He says he’s not into guys and what we did meant nothing.

He’s lying. Because it happened again, and again, and again. And it’s better every time.

I know we could be good together, and I want the chance to try, but I’m done hiding. If he’s not strong enough to admit the truth, I’ll have to be strong enough to walk away.

 

excerpt

Figuring I’d had enough booze to blunt his effect on me, I rolled up the sleeves of my black button-down shirt and moved next to him. “I’ll help you.”

“Okay.”

I caught him trying to not to look at my wrists and forearms, and it made me smile. How does it feel to want someone and have to hide it? “You wash, I’ll dry?”

“Sounds good.”

We worked in silence, shoulder to shoulder, and I found myself increasingly—and disturbingly—pleased at the thought of him being attracted to me and being forced to conceal it. It was fucking horrible of me to take pleasure in his discomfort, but I liked being secretly wanted. Being illicitly desired. Being the object of his covert glances and maybe even his darkest, dirtiest thoughts. I let our arms touch more than necessary, as thrilled by the physical contact as I was by the thought of what it might be doing to him.

For there is no man who does not sin.

My dick started to get hard, clearly unbothered by the whiskey that was breaking down my inhibitions, pushing past all my defenses, and letting my imagination run wild.

What’s in that gorgeous head of yours, Maxim? What’s behind those cobalt eyes? What would you do to me, if I let you? What would you let me do to you?

“Carolyn is so nice,” he said, handing me the last serving dish left to be dried.

What? He was thinking about Carolyn right now? He wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Carolyn—I was, goddammit!

But I wasn’t. “Yeah.”

He turned off the water. Rested his wet hands on the edge of the sink. “I didn’t realize you had a girlfriend.”

And I heard it in his voice—the slightest edge of jealousy, so faint I might never have noticed it had I not been so hyperaware of everything about him right now. I fucking loved it.

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Oh.” Now there was confusion. “I guess I misunderstood.”

“She wants to be my girlfriend.”

Silence.

Of course there was silence. Maxim would never ask what the problem was. But I wanted to tell him. I wanted him to know. I wanted to share the impossible longing I felt with one person who might understand it.

“The problem is me.”

He was completely still. Before I could stop myself, I covered his right hand with my left. “Sometimes I don’t know what I want.”

He yanked his hand from beneath mine and we faced each other.

For the first time tonight, I looked him right in the eye. Nothing around us existed for me anymore. I heard only his breath. Smelled only his skin. Saw only his guarded expression.

I had to have him.

 

 

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Excerpt Reveal: The Last Guy by Ilsa Madden-Mills & Tia Louise

the last guy cover

Title: The Last Guy

Authors: Ilsa Madden-Mills & Tia Louise

Release Date: June 12th, 2017

Genre: Sports Romance

Add on Goodreads!

blurb

The first rule of office romance is don’t do it—especially if your dream is to hold the anchor spot on the nightly news and your boss is trying to get you fired.

But one look at Cade Hill, the sexy new sports director, and uptight reporter Rebecca Fieldstone is daydreaming about other things.

Sex in his office…

Sex in the on-set kitchen…

Sex in the supply closet…

She can’t stop thinking about the former NFL quarterback and how perfect he’d look between her sheets—except he’s an arrogant jerk with a huge…ego.

He’s the last guy she’d ever have a one-night stand with.

Cade Hill draws a thick professional line on office romance—until it comes to the hyper-focused Rebecca. He wants her, and he gets his wish when a chance encounter has them having the hottest sex of their lives.

It’s just a hook-up, she says.

When can we do it again? he says.

With Rebecca determined to keep Cade in the friend zone, it’s going to be an uphill battle for Cade to convince her he’s the last guy she’ll ever want.

 

excerpt

~ Rebecca ~

He kicks the door shut and without even turning on the light, he tosses me on my back on the bed. I prop up on my elbows. My dress is up around my waist, my bra is wet from Cade’s mouth, and my nipples are pointing right at him.

“Damn,” he rasps, and I watch, mesmerized as he reaches behind his neck to pull his shirt over his head, leaving his hair a sexy mess.

The light of the full moon blasting through my window covers him in a silvery glow. My stomach clenches when I see the lines of his muscles deepened by the shadowy light. My God, he’s gorgeous. He looks otherworldly.

“We really shouldn’t do this…” My voice is breathless.

“Agreed.”

He strides toward the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. He’s focused, determined, and I watch long fingers unfasten his belt, the top of his jeans, his zipper.

“This is a terrible idea.”

“Yes,” he murmurs as he cups my face. I sigh and lean into his palm, letting the sizzle between us electrify me. If I do this…if I go through with boning him…it’s going to be the best sex of my life, judging by the tiny raised hairs all over my body.

I scoot to the foot of the bed so I’m right in front of him and my head is level with his waist. Looking up, I slide my palms to his sides, pushing his jeans lower.

He’s standing in front of me in black boxer briefs. I slide my palms up and down against the hot planes of his pelvis, teasing him, tracing my fingers around the straining bulge of his erection. “We’re gonna regret this.”

A long shudder comes from him, and his eyes are heavy-lidded as he watches me. “I don’t think so, Stone. Not in a million fucking years.” He leans down and his lips capture mine, his tongue sweeping inside my mouth, exploring, owning me.

 

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Blurb Reveal- STAY by Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy

stay-bn-kobo

Title: STAY

Authors: Sarina Bowen & Elle Kennedy

Series Wags #2 (Can be read as a standalone)

Genre: Sports Romance

Release Date: June 20th, 2017

blurb

Can you fall in love with someone you’ve never even met?

Hailey Taylor Emery has a hunch that her favorite client at Fetch–an anonymous virtual assistant service–is actually hockey star Matt Eriksson.

Although it’s against the rules for her to check his file, she’s 95% sure she spends at least part of each day texting with her lifelong crush and catering to his every need. Still nursing a wounded heart thanks to her recent breakup, Hailey is perfectly content with some harmless online flirting…until she has to meet her client. Face to face. Cue: utter panic.

Matt Eriksson is no stranger to heartbreak. He’s still not over the destruction of his marriage, and it sucks to be the only guy on the team who knows the truth–that hockey and long-term relationships are a toxic mix. He barely sees his kids, and dealing with his ex makes him feel insane. The only person in his life who seems to understand is someone who won’t show her pretty face.

But it’s nothing that a pair of fourth row hockey seats can’t fix. Hailey can’t resist the offer. Matt can’t resist Hailey. Good thing he doesn’t have to. Fire up the kiss cam!

Warning: Contains rabid hockey fans, misunderstood dick pics, hockey players at the opera and exploding ovaries.

Pre-Order STAY

Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iBooks

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Excerpt Reveal- Mister Moneybags by Vi Keeland & Penelope Ward

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Title: Mister Moneybags

Authors: Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward

Genres: Contemporary Romance

Release Date: April 10th, 2017

Click here to read the first Chapter!

Add to Goodreads!

blurb

I met Bianca in an elevator.

She was on her way to interview me when we got stuck. The beautiful, raven-haired reporter assumed I was a delivery guy because of the way I was dressed.

She had no clue I was really Dex Truitt, the wealthy, successful businessman she’d dubbed “Mister Moneybags”—her afternoon appointment.

Bianca told me how much she hated Dex’s type—snobby, over educated, silver- spooned men who didn’t appreciate the simple things in life.

So, after the elevator finally started moving again, I cancelled the interview and let her believe I was someone I wasn’t—a bike messenger named Jay. I loved the way she looked at the fake me and didn’t want it to end.

I began dating her as “Jay”—all the while letting her interview the real me over email.

I didn’t expect that our chemistry online would be just as hot. I didn’t expect the mess I’d gotten myself into. I didn’t expect that Jay and Dex would fall in love with her.

And she was falling for two men.

Only, both men were me. And when she found out, we were both going to lose her.

Nothing could have prepared me for that day. And I certainly wasn’t prepared for what came after.

All good things must come to an end, right?
Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.

 

excerpt

MEET BIANCA

I sighed audibly.  Are we even moving?  It was seriously the slowest elevator I’d ever taken.  Frustrated, and maybe a bit anxious to get the interview over with, I took another shot at the elevator panel.  Again, pressing the button repeatedly, I groaned, “Come on.  I’m already freakin’ late.”

I breathed a sigh of relief when the car seemed to finally pick up speed.  But then, it jolted to an abrupt stop, and the elevator went pitch black.

“Well now you’ve gone and broken the damn thing,” a deep voice said from behind me.  Startled, I jumped and bobbled my cell phone in the dark, which resulted in it falling.  From the sound of it smashing against the floor, I knew it had broken.

“Shit!  Look what you made me do.” I bent over and patted the floor, but I couldn’t find it.  “Can you at least give me some light so I can find my phone?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Thank you,” I huffed.

“If I had a cell phone on me.”

“Are you kidding?  You don’t have a cell phone on you?  Who walks around without their cell phone?”

“Maybe you should try it. If you weren’t so obsessed with yours, we wouldn’t be in this predicament.”

I stood, and my hands went to my hips. “How so?”

“Well, you were so busy typing away on your phone, you didn’t even notice another passenger was in the car with you.”

“And?”

“Had you seen me, you wouldn’t have jumped hearing my voice and broken your phone.  Then we would have had light, and you would be able to see that elevator panel well enough to push that button another twenty or thirty times. I’m sure that would’ve helped.”

I felt the man moving around behind me.

“What are you doing?”

When he answered, his voice came from a different place.  It was to my left and beneath me.  “I’m on the floor looking for your cell phone.”

It really was pitch dark.  I couldn’t see a thing, but I felt the air move, and I knew he must have stood back up.

“Put your hand out.”

“You’re going to put my phone in it, right?”

“No, I’ve taken down my pants and I’m going to stick my dick in it.  Christ, you’re really a bitch, aren’t you?”

Thinking he couldn’t see me, I smiled at his sarcasm and put out my hand.  “Just give me my phone.”

MEET DEX

Wow. My little ball player was quite the fox.

I’d only seen her from the back before the lights went out. Now, I was staring into her beautiful, big brown eyes, feeling like this elevator mishap wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

She cleared her throat. “The lights came back, but we’re still stuck.”

I clicked on some of the buttons. “Seems that way. But this is a step in the right direction. I bet this thing will be moving in no time.”

And by this thing moving, I do not mean my dick, although I could have sworn I felt it twitch when she just licked her beautiful full lips.

Do that again.

Fuck.

She is beautiful.

My eyes travelled down the length of her body then back up again, loving how the small buttons on her conservative blouse formed a path up to her delicate neck. I wouldn’t have minded sucking on that skin.

Maybe I could entice her to play hooky with me.

“Where are you headed once we get out of here?” I asked.

“The thirty-fourth floor,” she said.

What?

What is she doing going up to my floor?

I know she doesn’t work for me. I would have remembered that face, those eyes.

“What kind of business you have going on up there?”

“I actually have the pleasure of interviewing Mister Moneybags himself.”

My stomach sank.

Ohhhh.

This didn’t bode well for me.

I swallowed then cocked my head to the side and played dumb. “Who?”

“The elusive Dexter Truitt. He’s the CEO of Montague Enterprises. They occupy the entire top floor.”

Trying to seem like I was not seriously about to lose my shit, I asked, “Why do you call him Mister Moneybags?”

“I just picture him to be this crabby, money-hungry asshole, I guess. Sounds like a fitting name. Of course, I don’t actually know him.”

“Why do you think that way about him, then?”

“I have my reasons.”

 

 

ata

Vi Keeland

Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times and Wall Street Journal Bestselling author. With more than a million books sold, her titles have appeared in over fifty Bestseller lists and are currently translated in fourteen languages. She lives in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.

Penelope Ward

Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today, and #1 Wall Street Journal Bestselling author of thirteen novels. With over a million books sold, her titles have placed on the New York Times Bestseller list fifteen times. She is the proud mother of a beautiful 12-year-old girl with autism (the inspiration for the character Callie in Gemini) and a 10-year-old boy. Penelope, her husband, and kids reside in Rhode Island.

 

 

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SWEET RIVALRY by K. Bromberg

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SWEET RIVALRY

By K. Bromberg

Release Day: Feb 28, 2017

ARC received in exchange for an honest review!

blurb

Ryder Rodgers had a plan.

He was going to stride into the conference room, do the required song and dance over the next five days, and win the biggest contract of his career. But when he walked in and heard the voice of one of his competitors, all his plans were shot to hell.

Harper Denton. She was always on top. In college. First in their class. Always using every advantage to edge him out to win the coveted positions. The only one who could beat him. His academic rival. More like a constant thorn in his side. And his ego’s.

When he heard her voice, he was brought back to years before. To the bitter taste of being second best. But the woman who meets his gaze is nothing like the drab wallflower he used to know. Hell no. She was all woman now: curves, confidence, and staggering sex appeal. And no doubt, still brilliant.

The fact that she’s gorgeous and bright won’t distract him. This time, Ryder’s determined to be the one on top. But not if Harper can help it.

 

 

excerpt

He takes a step toward me then hesitates, but before I can process anything else, his lips are on mine.

And not just on mine––not just a brush of lips against lips—but I’m talking all in. Hands on my cheeks, tongue licking between my lips, body pressed against mine, groan in the back of his throat, type of all in.

I don’t react at first. I’m stunned. Flabbergasted, my mind reeling from the anger to the  surprise to now this without any warning at all.

This is Ryder.

My rival.

My supporter.

My crush.

The thoughts flicker that this is what I’ve wanted. But they soon shift to panic. To insecurity I don’t kiss well enough. That this is all a joke and I’m the butt of it.

But then I feel. Everything. All at once.

And I know this is real.

It’s like I can’t catch my breath and have too much air all at the same time.

My body is on fire. And not just from his touch but from that burn deep inside that feels like it’s exploding and imploding all at once.

 So this is what it feels like to really be kissed.

It’s a fleeting thought before the sensations, the moment, the emotions, consume me whole.

His hands move my face to change the angle of the kiss. His fingertips on the line of my jaw singe my skin. His lips move expertly against mine, and all I can do is feel. All I can do is want.

Thinking isn’t an option.

The anger from before has morphed to want. The adrenaline has recharged with desire.

There is no rivalry.

There is no graduation ceremony tomorrow I’m missing to catch my flight.

There is no panic over if I’ll ever see him again.

It’s just him.

And me.

The scent of his cologne in my nose. The heat of his body against mine. The taste of hunger in his kiss.

 

Sexy lovers foreplay at luxury flat, sensual milf foreplay with young man

review

I have to say this might be one of my favorite novellas. Sweet, sexy, hilarious, sexy- wait did, I say that already?- this book is completely captivating. Second chance romance mixed with enemies to lovers and a whole lot of sexual tension.

Ryder Rodgers and Harper Denton knew each other in college. While they were typically always competing with each other, they did share one sizzling hot kiss.

Now it’s 13 years later, and once again Ryder and Harper are competing with each other. Only now they are both grown. Both more mature. And both utterly attracted to each other.

This is my second read by K. Bromberg, and she is becoming one of my must read authors. Sweet Rivalry had great dialogue, fun banter, characters you can’t help but love, and delivered on the feels. The connection between Ryder and Harper was perfect, as was everything else about them- the bickering, the kisses, the tension, the romance.

This is a very quick read, but still felt pretty complete. Nothing felt rushed. I would’ve loved if it was a lot longer, but I’ll take what I can get. 😛

If you like fast, sexy, heart warming reads you will want to check this out!

Find it on Amazon!

ATAs

New York Times Bestselling author K. Bromberg writes contemporary novels that contain a mixture of sweet, emotional, a whole lot of sexy, and a little bit of real. She likes to write strong heroines, and damaged heroes who we love to hate and hate to love.

She’s a mixture of most of her female characters: sassy, intelligent, stubborn, reserved, outgoing, driven, emotional, strong, and wears her heart on her sleeve. All of which she displays daily with her husband and three children where they live in Southern California.

On a whim, K. Bromberg decided to try her hand at this writing thing. Since then she has written The Driven Series (Driven, Fueled, Crashed, Raced, Aced), the standalone Driven Novels (Slow Burn, Sweet Ache, Hard Beat, and Down Shift), and a novella (UnRaveled). She is currently finishing up Sweet Cheeks a standalone novel out November 14th.

Her plans for 2017 include a sports romance duet (2 books: The Player, The Catch) and the Everyday Heroes series (3 books: Cuffed, Combust, and Cockpit). She’s also writing a novella for the 1,001 Dark Night series that will be out in February 2017.

She loves to hear from her readers so make sure you check her out on social media.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Amazon Author | Driven Group

 

 

 

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Release Promo: FULL PACKAGE by Lauren Blakely

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blurb

I’ve been told I have quite a gift.

Hey, I don’t just mean in my pants. I’ve got a big brain too, and a huge heart of gold. And I like to use all my gifts to the fullest, the package included. Life is smooth sailing….

 Until I find myself stuck between a rock and a sexy roommate, which makes for one very hard…place.

 Because scoring an apartment in this city is harder than finding true love. So even if I have to shack up with my buddy’s smoking hot and incredibly amazing little sister, a man’s got to do what a man’s got to do.

I can resist Josie. I’m disciplined, I’m focused, and I keep my hands to myself, even in the mere five-hundred square feet we share. Until the one night she insists on sliding under the covers with me. It’ll help her sleep after what happened that day, she says.

 Spoiler-neither one of us sleeps.

 Did I mention she’s also one of my best friends? That she’s brilliant, beautiful and a total firecracker? Guess that makes her the full package too.

 What’s a man stuck in a hard place to do?

 

excerpt

I turn into the kitchen. She pulls a tray from the oven and smiles. She still wears the date outfit, but the heels are gone. She’s adorable in her fancy dress and bare feet.

“Date ended early?”

She nods. “When he invited me to see his gerbil, I thought it was time to go.”

“That doesn’t entice you?”

She shakes her head. “Had he said ferret, perhaps. Alas, with gerbil I’m a firm no.”

“Was it in his pants or a cage?”

“We didn’t get far enough to find out. I said thanks, I need to water the plants, and I got the hell out of Dodge.”

I curl up the side of my mouth. “Guess that explains why Trish didn’t invite me home, either. I tried the hamster line on her.”

She smacks me with a panda potholder. “I suppose I should have known better, though. Earlier in the date, he made a ton of masturbation comments.”

I lean against the kitchen counter. “And that concerns you, since you never do that, right?”

As she slides the spatula under the dessert, she gives me a side-eye stare. “Exactly, Chase. I never rub one out. Never.” She waves a hand over her crotch. “Total hands-free zone.”

I take her comment seriously. “Fine. You use toys. I get it. What kind?” I ask, because I can’t help myself.

She rolls her eyes. “Not telling you.”

I harrumph and grab for a bar from the pan. She swats me with the spatula.

“Ouch,” I say, yanking back my hand.

“That didn’t hurt. And you should know better than to steal my dessert before it’s ready.”

“You should know better than to hit my hands.” I hold both up in the air.

With a quickness I don’t see coming, she whacks me again with her utensil. This time on the other hand.

“That’s it.” I charge her, tickling her waist. “Tell me what toys and I’ll stop.”

She cracks up and flails her arms, knocking me with elbows and hands and the spatula, too, until I give in to her cries for mercy.

I stare at her in our tiny sliver of a kitchen. “Waiting.”

“You really want to know?”

I nod eagerly. I’m playing with fire, but I can’t resist. The desire to know outweighs all else.

She works the spatula under the bars again, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.”

I hold out my hands. “C’mon. We talk about all sorts of stuff.” Then, an idea strikes me. I open the kitchen cupboard, grab a bottle of Patron, and hold it up. “This will help all that shyness.”

She stares at me with narrowed eyes. “I’m not shy at all.”

I grab two shot glasses and pour. “Better safe than sorry, Miss Not Shy At All.”

I hand her one, and she takes it. Then I raise my glass, and the drink goes down the hatch with a burn. She follows suit, swallowing it quickly, then sets her glass down. I do the same.

I rub my palms together. “Toy confessional time. What have you got?”

She arches an eyebrow. “Really? You really want to know?”

I narrow my eyes. “What part of your roommate being a dirty bastard do you not understand? Obviously, I want to know. I’m a guy. This is like Christmas morning. But if this helps . . .”

I pour two more shots then slide her glass over to her. Once more, we down them.

She draws a deep breath. “Since you asked . . . I have a few toys. A little silver bullet. A bigger dolphin. And I have a waterproof finger vibrator.”

And the temperature in me shoots through the roof. I tug at the neck of my shirt. “For the shower?” I croak out.

“Seeing as we don’t have a bathtub, yes, it would have to be for the shower.”

“You masturbate in the shower?” I ask, and the visual is so fucking clear in my mind—Josie under a hot stream of water that slopes off her breasts, a finger vibrator working between her thighs.

She nods as she slides the bars onto a cooling rack. Just then I remember she promised me seven-layer bars when she freaked out the other night. And she delivered. Fuck, I think she might be perfect, what with her desserts and her shower hobby.

 

Find FULL PACKAGE

Amazon UShttps://www.amazon.com/Full-Package-Lauren-Blakely-ebook/dp/B01MT5HMRV 

Amazon UKhttp://amzn.to/2j6xezI 

Amazon CAhttps://www.amazon.ca/dp/B01MT5HMRV 

Amazon AUhttps://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01MT5HMRV/

iBookshttp://tinyurl.com/FullPackageLB

B&N http://bit.ly/2b7fWxj

Kobo http://bit.ly/2aA43gp

Google Playhttps://goo.gl/U5ND2B

Amazon Paperbackhttp://amzn.to/2avft4u

Audio (Sebastian York!)http://amzn.to/2iwO9Hc

or via Audible at http://adbl.co/2imeWG6

ATAs

Since self-publishing her debut romance novel CAUGHT UP IN US over three years ago, Lauren Blakely has sold more than 1.5 million books. She is known for her sexy contemporary romance style that’s full of heat, heart and humor. A devout fan of cake and canines, Lauren has plotted entire novels while walking her four-legged friends. She lives in California with her family. With thirteen New York Times bestsellers, her titles have appeared on the New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal Bestseller Lists more than seventy times. Her bestselling series include Sinful Nights, Seductive Nights, No Regrets, Caught Up in Love, and Fighting Fire as well as standalone hit romances like BIG ROCK, MISTER O, WELL HUNG, and THE SEXY ONE which were all instant New York Times Bestsellers. In January she’ll release FULL PACKAGE, a standalone romantic comedy. To receive an email when Lauren releases a new book, sign up for her newsletter! laurenblakely.com/newsletter.

 

Website ** Facebook ** Twitter ** Newsletter ** Goodreads

Release Blitz: Hit the Spot by J. Daniels

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Title: HIT THE SPOT

Author: J. Daniels

Series: Dirty Deeds, #2

On Sale: December 6, 2016

blurb

Is this love or just a game?

Tori Rivera thinks Jamie McCade is rude, arrogant, and worst of all . . . the sexiest man she’s ever laid eyes on. His reputation as a player is almost as legendary as his surfing skills. No matter how her body heats up when he’s around, she’s determined not to be another meaningless hookup.

Jamie McCade always gets what he wants. The sickest wave. The hottest women. And Tori, with her long legs and smart mouth, is definitely the hottest one. He knows Tori wants him—hell, most women do—but she won’t admit it. After months of chasing and one unforgettable kiss, it’s time for Jamie to raise the stakes.

Jamie promises that soon Tori won’t just want him in her bed, she’ll be begging for it-and he might be right. Somehow he’s found the spot in her heart that makes her open up like never before. But with all she knows about his past, can she really trust what’s happening between them? Is Jamie playing for keeps or just playing to win?

 

excerpt

Tori slapped the counter and gained everyone’s attention when she started yelling, “I did not run you over, Jamie! Jesus Christ! Quit spreading lies about me!”

“It ain’t lies if it’s true!” I yelled back, glaring at her.

A laugh bubbled in her throat. She tilted her head and stuck her hand on her hip. “Please. I’m sure you’re still able to bang everything with a pulse, as usual, which means you’re fine. Get over it, and grow some balls. I cried less when I watched Bambi the first time.”

“Who’s hungry?” Syd asked nonchalantly, moving behind her friend to round the island and stand near the stove.

I ignored her question because, what the fuck? Grow some balls?

“I gotta pair, babe,” I told Legs, reaching down and palming my shit. “You should know since you’ve been all up on ’em the past nine months.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re disgusting.”

I felt my mouth twitch.

And that was when, for some fucked up reason, I reverted back to my old ways with Tori Rivera, forgetting all about how much I fucking hated her and instead going full-on, hell-bent determined to get an admission out of that smart-ass mouth.

“You want it,” I countered, tipping my chin up.

She wasn’t expecting that. No more than I was. It threw her off.

Her shoulders pulled back and her lips parted.

Then, maybe to cover her tell, or maybe she didn’t have control over what was flying out of her mouth either, I didn’t know, but she brought her other hand to her hip, glared at me with heat flashing in her eyes, tipped forward, and shot back with attitude, “You want it.”

Well shit. This was new. Legs was challenging me and she was doing it flirting. There was no doubt in my mind.

“Sorry, babe,” I said, keeping the smirk and letting go of my junk. “Not interested. I told you yesterday, I’m done waitin’ around. But you?” I pointed my beer at her. “You’ll be beggin’ for it before the month is up. Just watch.”

“Fat chance,” she snapped. “I wouldn’t sleep with you if my life depended on it.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Bet what?”

“What’s going on right now?” Syd called out, but I wasn’t pausing to answer her.

I smiled at Tori, then gestured between us, explaining, “First one to break and come crawling to the other person for sex, loses.”

“Are you serious?” She laughed, not in amusement but in disbelief.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” I answered.

“You want to bet me that I’ll want to have sex with you before you try and have sex with me?” she questioned, moving her finger between us. “You, the guy who has been hitting on me for nine straight months and has been rejected for nine straight months? You seriously think I’ll not only want to have sex with you, but I’ll beg you for it? Is that what I just heard?”

I nodded slowly. I had this in the bag. “A rule. No fuckin’ anyone unless it’s each other.”

Her eyes bugged.

“And no masturbating either,” I added, raising my beer and using it to gesture. “Since we both know when you do it you’re thinkin’ about me, and if you’re that fuckin’ horny you need to rub one out or you’ll fuckin’ explode, you can come to me, Legs, beg, and I’ll put that fire out for you.”

 

 

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Buy Hit The Spot:

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Audible: http://adbl.co/2g1uVLA

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