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Arabella’s Taming by Golden Angel will be here May 29th!
KEEP READING FOR A SINFULLY DELICIOUS EXCERPT!
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Lady Arabella Windham, sister to the Duke of Manchester, has given up on ever attracting the positive attention of Lord Thomas Hood. After discovering he still sees her as the same hoydenish young woman she was in the past, no matter her current perfectly ladylike behavior, and realizing she will never match up to his infamous list of attributes for a wife, she throws caution to the wind and becomes more reckless than ever.
Why bother being good if it’s not going to even be noticed, much less acknowledged?
When her return to feckless and indiscreet behavior results in disgrace however, it’s Lord Thomas Hood who is caught up in the scandal with her. With a strong-willed bride determined to make her new husband dance to her tune and a stubborn lord determined to curb his new wife’s imprudent ways, is a happily-ever-after even possible?
Despite being part of a series, Arabella’s Taming may be read and enjoyed as a standalone.
ENJOY THIS STEAMY EXCERPT!
Perhaps she shouldn’t have been so forward, but Arabella didn’t see the point in pretending. She understood exactly what was to happen and she was rather looking forward to it. Perhaps she should have been pretending more ignorance? But where was the attraction in that?
He should be grateful he didn’t have to explain anything to her. Grateful she wasn’t horrified or shocked or disgusted by the idea. Granted, she’d been a little of all three when she’d first learned what happened between a man and a woman in the bedchamber – especially some of the salacious details her friends had let fall – but she’d moved past those initial reactions. Knowing there was inexpressible pleasure at the end of the proceedings, and sometimes before, had helped a great deal.
Their wedding night would be a good deal less fun if she’d just learned about what they were meant to do and had no idea that there would be a reward for indulging in what still sounded like a rather awkward business.
Although she was beginning to understand some of what her friends meant. With Thomas’ lips on hers, his arms circled around her waist and holding her up, one hand already sliding down towards her bottom, and the strange hardness of his groin pressing into her belly, she didn’t feel awkward at all. She felt hot, almost itchy, like her skin was too tight and she wanted to rub herself all over him. There was an ache deep inside of her, and she knew exactly what was supposed to fill it even though she didn’t know how it would feel.
His tongue slid into her mouth, his hand moving down to cup her bottom, and Arabella moaned as heat and need shot through her. It felt like her skin had become exquisitely sensitive.
When Thomas’ lips pulled away from hers, she almost protested, but instead of really pulling away he was just moving them… across her jawline… to her neck… goodness, she’d had no idea her neck was so sensitive. She tipped her head back, giving him full access to her throat, clinging to his shoulders as he left a line of burning kisses across
“What did your friends tell you about tonight?” He murmured the question, his voice deep and sensual.
Arabella blinked, trying to think as his hands began to roam along with his mouth. Her breasts felt swollen and heavy and her entire body shuddered as the hand not caressing her bottom cupped her right breast.
“Um… oh my… they said… they said you would put your cock in me… in my… between my legs,” she managed to get out, suddenly feeling shy. At least, shy about using any of the words she might use for exactly where he was going to put his cock. “And maybe my mouth… my bottom…”
The hand on her bottom tightened immediately, pulling her even harder against him as he moaned against the sensitive skin between her shoulder and her neck. She shuddered as he rocked his hips against her, very aware of exactly how much he liked that idea. Arabella was almost sorry she’d brought it up – the reports from the other ladies had been mixed at best.
Yet Thomas’ reaction almost made her want to try…
Somehow the idea seemed much more appealing in this moment, while she was in his arms, feeling the full force of his ardor.
“Anything else?” he asked, practically grating the words out.
The words slipped out of her mouth then. Words she definitely hadn’t meant to say, because she still thought her friends were mad for their insistence it could be fun, even enjoyable.
“They said you might spank me,” she whispered. “And that I might like it.”
Angel is a self-described bibliophile with a “kinky” bent who loves to write stories for the characters in her head. If she didn’t get them out, she’s pretty sure she’d go just a little crazy.
She is happily married, old enough to know better but still too young to care, and a big fan of happily-ever-afters, strong heroes and heroines, and sizzling chemistry.
She believes the world is a better place when there’s a little magic in it.
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Series: A Brett MacLean Duet #1
Author: JM Walker
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: May 7
It started without trust. Passion. Lust. An all-consuming need; that was all we had in the beginning.
Lies. Betrayal. Deceit. We moved past it all and fell in love anyway.
Over ten years later, with a family of our own, our little world was perfect. Happy.
But then that happiness faded away when she came into our lives.
No control. No power. Just heartbreak and unwanted submission.
We were forced to our knees at the sight of her. The words falling from her lips were like nails digging at our soul because we knew.
We would have to go through hell to get out of this.
And even then, I wasn’t sure if it would be enough.
Our world ended when she came into our lives. No control. No power. Just heartbreak and unwanted submission. We were forced to our knees at the sight of her. The words falling from her lips were like nails digging at our soul because we knew there was no way out of this.
It wasn’t her fault. None of it was. She was a lowly pawn in this fucked up world we called life. There was nothing any of us could do but wait.
Ever since I was a small boy, I had made it my mission to be in control of everything around me. My career. Women. Sex. Money. Alcohol. I strived to be an asshole so no one could get into my heart.
And then she appeared.
Short. Blonde, curly hair. Deep blue eyes that looked into my very soul and knew my secrets before I ever told her.
Evvie Neal was my one, my only.
I tried so hard to be in control when really, she was the Master and I was the ever-willing slave. She captured my heart, reached inside my chest and brought it back to life just by the sound of her laugh.
But as soon as we were happy, as soon as we let our guard down, the foundation of our love cracked.
We worked damn hard for it and I would do everything in my power to build up the walls of our love and make her happy again.
Even if it meant leaving.
J.M. Walker is an Amazon bestselling author who loves all things books, pigs and lip gloss. She is happily married to the man who inspires all of her Heroes and continues to make her weak in the knees every single day.
Sombra by Leslie McAdam releases on APRIL 30th!
Keep reading for an excerpt!
Everything in moderation. Including virtue.
I step off the plane in Madrid and meet his warm eyes. His crooked smile. His devastating charm.
Worse, he’s courteous. Honorable. Sensuous. Impossibly attractive.
Tavo awakens my desires—my body—without even touching it.
I don’t want to be attracted to him. I’ve made my promises.
My future has already been determined. I’m wearing a ring.
But I can’t control this pull to him.
He wants to explore my shadows.
I want to get out of the light.
I shouldn’t feel this way…
Problem is, I can’t restrain my heart.
From the shadows, he emerges. The small pool of olive oil on his hands glistens in the candlelight and drips on the tile floor through his fingers.
I glimpse his face as he approaches the bed, and he’s grinning wickedly, his hair messy and wild. Bare feet on a cold floor. Shirt off. Jeans unbuttoned, with a thatch of groomed pubic hair peeking out, his root showing.
My body tingles and gooseflesh erupts on my arms and legs.
His appraising eyes slowly, languidly, take in my form.
And I love it. I absolutely love the way he looks at me, like he’s appreciating every freckle, every hair follicle, every curve. My painted toes. My voluptuous calves. My ample thighs. And on up.
Another drip of olive oil plops on the floor. Part of me thinks it’s a waste. The other part of me loves this game.
The wait, the watching, makes me pant, and I breathe faster and faster as he comes closer. My skin’s glowing in his dim room.
What surprise does he have for me this time?
The mystery. I love the mystery and anticipation. I don’t know what’s coming next. I don’t know the plan.
I have no idea what pleasures are in store for me tonight, but I’m sure they’re coming.
He knows what he does to me. He knows I’m resisting writhing on the crisp, rough sheets, which are crackly from drying on a line out back in the cold, wintry Andalusian sun. We’ll soften them soon enough when our bodies join together, but right now they’re almost like brittle sandpaper, chafing my skin.
With a bite of his lip, trying to control his smile, he rubs his hands together, making a suction sound from the lubrication. The oil smells fruity, green—if you could smell a color—and bitter.
I’ve licked it on his skin enough times to know its taste. The complexity of the flavors. How just a drop on the tongue can make me want so much.
I love it.
Even though I shouldn’t.
My eyes stay on his hands. I’m obsessed with them, especially his callouses. Over time, they’ve built up on the pads of his palms, right next to where his fingers begin. The telltale sign of a life lived working outside, although it’s not what he wants. Sometimes his rough patches crack and bleed, a hazard of using a rake to beat the olives out of the trees.
A hazard of using his hands.
Those hands, those scratchy callouses now skim down my naked body, half-lit in the dark room, leaving a trail of oil. My hair splays across the pillow. His light touch makes my nipples point up. My pulse pound. My body ache. I arch up into his fingers, wanting more. Needing more.
We shouldn’t be doing this. This isn’t how my life is supposed to be.
But nothing can stop our desire.
ADD TO YOUR TBR ➤ http://bit.ly/2C1jYBz
About the Author
Leslie McAdam is a California girl who loves romance, Little Dude, and well-defined abs. She lives in a drafty old farmhouse on a small orange tree farm in Southern California with her husband and two small children. Leslie always encourages her kids to be themselves – even if it means letting her daughter wear leopard print from head to toe. An avid reader from a young age, she will always trade watching TV for reading a book, unless it’s Top Gear. Or football. Leslie is employed by day but spends her nights writing about the men you fantasize about. She’s unapologetically sarcastic and notoriously terrible at comma placement (that’s what editors are for!). Always up for a laugh, Leslie tries to see humor in all things. When she’s not in the writing cave you’ll find her fangirling over Beck, camping with her family, or mixing up oil paints to depict her love of outdoors on canvas.
Facebook Group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/981750415193781/
Cheeky Royal by Nana Malone is AVAILABLE NOW!
Keep reading for an excerpt and PREORDER Cheeky Royal Now!
“Nana Malone delivers royal-worthy chemistry in a snappy, page-turning package. Penny and Prince Sebastian are everything! Give us the next book now!”
—Max Monroe, New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author
All they want is everything they can’t have.
Yes, yes, I’ve heard the rumors.
The prince is royal, and cocky and has a—well never mind about all that.
The problem is, he’s also my job.
When the King called on me to retrieve the wayward prince, I was ready to walk away.
Then I caught my boyfriend cheating—and suddenly leaving never felt like a better idea.
I never wanted the throne.
When I left behind my gilded cage of a palace, it all sounded so simple: find my long-lost brother & make him the prince so I don’t have to rule the kingdom like my father expects.
Then I meet my new neighbor, and quickly realize I’ve found the queen of my heart—and bed.
Just one problem, I can’t let her find out who I really am.
ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2FRpdHt
I shook my head. “No. This guy just didn’t seem to understand my disinterest in him. And when I put my drink down, I accidentally kneed him in the balls.” Sebastian’s eyebrows rose. “You accidentally kneed him in the balls?” The guy was still moaning on his knees. ”Yeah, I didn’t mean to do it.” I blinked my eyes as innocently as I could. Then the unthinkable happened. Sebastian’s arm went around me, and his voice went low and deadly as he addressed the guy on the floor still howling and holding the family jewels. “Listen to me. She’s a friend of mine. If I see you near her again, I’ll make your life very difficult. What she did to you on accident will seem like a walk in the park.” When he pulled me closer, I tipped my head up to glance at him, eyes wide. I was unprepared for what happened next. Sebastian squeezed me tightly, and I could see the muscle in his jaw twitching. He leaned over and brushed his lips against mine. Oh God. Holy. Shitballs. On. A. Cracker. Pussy down. Pussy down! The kiss was electric, hot, and quick. And then it was over so soon I couldn’t be sure it had happened. His electric blue gaze bore into mine before he whispered, “Like I said. She’s mine.” He let go of me then, and I had to work hard to fight the feeling of emptiness. Yeah, that’s right dumbass, you’re not actually his.
Grab the FREE PREQUEL, Cheeky Prince:
From USA Today Bestselling Author Nana Malone, comes a sexy, royal novella.
What Good is a Throne if the King Isn’t Worthy…
Before I was a King…
Before I was known for my naked hot tub antics…
Before my neighbor turned my world upside down…
I was a Cheeky Prince.
PREORDER Cheeky King:
What good is a King without his Queen?
I never wanted the crown, but now it’s mine.
Instead of my freedom–instead of her.
But even though she’s not mine to keep, I can’t seem to stay away.
The moment he became king, I knew we were over.
Now I’ve returned home some kind of conquering hero.
If only they all knew that we’d both lost our hearts.
If only I could stay out of the royal bed.
What good is being cocky if you can’t get what you want?
ADD TO YOUR TBR → http://bit.ly/2H4kxxt
About the Author:
USA Today Bestselling Author, NANA MALONE’s love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she borrowed from her cousin on a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana at a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick butt heroines ever since.
With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters. Waiting for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, Nana, meantime works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.
The books in her series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle and Barnes & Noble best seller lists as well as the iTunes Breakout Books list and most notably the USA Today Bestseller list.
Until that ninja job comes through, you’ll find Nana working hard on additional books for her series as well as other fun, sassy romances for characters that won’t leave her alone. And if she’s not working or hiding in the closet reading, she’s acting out scenes for her husband, daughter and puppy in sunny San Diego.
Want to hit me up? Just email me: firstname.lastname@example.org
Psychopath’s Prey by V.F. Mason is releasing on APRIL 17th!
Keep reading for an excerpt!
Once upon a time she became mine.
Mine to hunt.
A criminal psychologist and a serial killer.
The love between them shouldn’t exist.
Or so the world thinks.
Her mission is to find him.
His single obsession is to catch her.
The hunter and the prey.
Let the games begin, and may the stronger one win.
Unfamiliar emotions swirl through me; although I’m not sure a euphoric rush of adrenaline at remembering her fear-filled voice could be considered an emotion.
But what brought even more anticipation?
Her desire to catch me is so strong; she sees outside the box and digs into details other people might never notice.
How can I not enjoy playing a game with her?
She would have been a great asset to the team helping catch the likes of me.
Too bad my case will be the first and last she’ll ever have.
About the Author:
V.F.Mason always loved reading books and had quite a few fights with her momma over the genre she liked (romance, duh!) She studied filmmaking and thought that would feed her desire for stories, but that didn’t happen. Finally, when she was tired of all those voices in her head, she sat down and wrote a book. It was a huge decision to make and she thanks her friends and family for supporting her in it. When she is not writing, she can be found with her friends doing all sorts of crazy things or reading recent romance books that were written by her favorite authors.
Connect with V.F.!
This mafia forbidden romance is one you WON’T REGRET!
Regretfully Yours by Sunniva Dee releases on APRIL 17th
Keep reading for an EXCERPT!
ADD TO YOUR GR SHELF → http://bit.ly/2G4UZRn
Our relationship was a sin, they said, but how can it be a sin to love so deeply?
She shouldn’t have listened to them.
Shouldn’t have left us behind.
You can’t help whom you love, and without Silvina, I didn’t give a damn.
A mafia prince without a cause is a rebel with nothing to lose.
My brother owned an adult entertainment studio.
He wanted me nowhere near it. Thankfully, his competition did.
I auditioned. Landed a contract.
It’s how I took my sins to a new level, my up-yours to la famiglia.
Until Silvina was kidnapped, and my world was thrown upside down.
“You know what I love most?” I opened one pearly pink button at a time down her shirt. Once I was done, I spread the shirt open so her simple white bra was the only thing covering her beautiful little breasts. Between them, her ribs showed beneath olive flesh, small ridges lifting and sinking while she waited for my next move.
I let my eyes run over her, starting with her eyes, moving down to the center of her chest. I strayed to the left, right above the rim of her bra, and saw what will always make the world fade around me.
Steadily speeding up, it thudded against her ribs, meeting me with the worship I felt for her. I ripped my shirt off. Leaped to the door and locked it. My urgency made her laugh, and I loved, loved making her laugh.
“You’re killing me,” I whispered. Slowly, I lowered myself until I fitted my heart against hers. Heavy, I kept us joined, my heart absorbing her rhythm. We breathed together, and kissing her neck, I reveled in the sensation of her love against my skin.
“Do you feel me?” I asked. With my lips, I tickled her ear. I moved a lock of hair away with my tongue, making her husk out a laugh again.
“You’re obsessed with hearts,” she whispered, funny. Serious.
“Can you? I feel you.” I thrusted my cock against her thigh. Too low, I didn’t hit her core, but that was okay. I’d do that soon anyway. For now, it was our hearts that concerned me. I wanted us to share this. Her rhythm thrummed through my chest, and I wanted it to carry into every bone of my body.
“You make me breathe too fast.”
I pulled up to look into her eyes. Mischievous, they backed up the blush of her cheeks.
“You like me on top of you. Admit it.”
“I heard that. You’re panting.” I pulled her lower lip into my mouth, and she arched her back from the mattress, meeting my thrusts.
“Give me more.” Her words were the hottest sighs stirring each ounce of me into action. Still, I held back. There was nothing like those seconds of insanity, of knowing the pleasure to come with the one person that was made for you only.
My Silvina. My Ina. Ina mia.
“See, I can’t do that. There are rules, you know,” I said.
“And what are those?” Always in sync with me, her voice was playful too.
“You don’t know?” I licked along the fleshy tip of her lower lip, dipping inside and finding her tongue. I sucked on her mouth, savoring our kiss until she moaned out her impatience with me. God, I loved her impatience.
I rolled her over so she was sprawled on top of me. “The rule is that our hearts have to beat together.”
“They do. They do. Come on, baby.”
“Your heart beats perfectly against me, but you haven’t felt mine yet.” I pressed her closer, aligning us, sneaking one hand inside the rim of her skirt, wiggling it under the lining of her panties. I pressed downward until I had one delicious ass cheek cupped in my palm. “God, I love you so much.”
“I feel your heart every day.”
“Only when you sleep on it. But now. Feel it now.”
She squirmed, and I loosened my arms so she could shift downward like she wanted to. The top of Ina mia’s head reached my Adam’s apple, the bliss-filled pain of her shifting downward made me groan.
Winded, she puffed out her amusement, and I forgot to breathe as she stilled over me, ear flat against the left side of my chest. Exhaling quietly, she listened, and in that moment, everything I’d ever felt for her congregated as a pack of dynamite in my chest.
“Anything?” I whispered.
At first, she didn’t answer. My hand moved, enjoying the dip between her thinnest, softest rib and her waist. I closed my eyes. It wasn’t the first time we’d worried about our future. It wouldn’t be the last. But it might have been the first time I realized that each moment with her could be our last.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Your heart is talking to me.”
“What’s it saying?”
“All the things.”
I let out a snort. “All the things, huh? Is it happy? Sad? Mad? Oh, it’s mad.”
“Nah. Your heart is in love.”
“Really?” I collected the long, thick strands of hair spread over her back in a makeshift ponytail. Then, I angled her face toward me. “With what?”
About the Author:
I’m a lover of everything beautifully written no matter the genre.
As an author, I pen flawed characters. I seek the flip side where the soul hides, and once there, I want to be pulled out of my comfort zone by stories that take on a life of their own.
I’ve committed paranormal and young adult books. I’ve done contemporary romance verging on erotica, and I’ve dabbled in supernatural mystery. But my heart is anchored in new adult of the true kind: unapologetic young adult that’s all grown up, with conflicts and passions familiar to college-aged readers and people who remember those days like they happened last night.
Connect with Sunniva:
Join New York Times Bestselling Author Kim Karr on another emotional journey in her next release, Come A Little Closer, on March 28th!
What happens when bad meets good? Get ready to find out. Only this time the bad isn’t who you think it is. It was a one-night stand, until she forced him to change the rules.
Keep reading for an excerpt!
ADD to your TBR → http://bit.ly/2EEHcPR
I haven’t always been this bad…
Up until recently, I was the kind of girl who wore white cotton panties and bent at the knees rather than the waist.
Pomp and circumstance changed all that.
Jaxson Cassidy was my first taste of bad, and I liked it more than I should have. Just not in the way I was meant to. I couldn’t help myself though. I found him irresistible. That sexy grin, those skilled fingers, and that dirty, dirty mouth were a lethal combination.
I wasn’t supposed to want him. I wasn’t supposed to let him put his hands on me. I wasn’t supposed to do a lot of things…but I did.
He wants to keep me close.
I should push him away.
He says he can help me.
I’m not so sure.
For some reason, he thinks there’s good left in me.
What if he’s wrong?
Everyone knows a good boy can’t turn a bad girl around.
Everyone knows it’s always the other way.
There was a dominance in his body language I couldn’t deny.
Heeding his invitation, I stopped before him. He stood and his towering height overwhelmed me, but when he pulled the empty barstool out and grinned at me, I felt electrically charged. “Hi.”
Slowly, I climbed onto it. For some reason, I couldn’t stop my knees from wobbling. “Hi,” I tried to respond, but it sounded more like a squeak.
The way he was looking at me made me feel like I was the only person in the room. I opened my mouth to say something more but found no words. Instead, my breath hissed out as a slow leak.
What was I doing?
I should have been running in the other direction. I didn’t have time for careless flirting. I had a job to do. One I knew I would never really be able to do.
Settling myself on the luxurious white leather stool, I crossed one leg over the other. As soon as I did, his heavy stare rolled over my face and then down my body. It felt like he was surveying every inch of me.
Suddenly, I wasn’t cold anymore. Heat roared through me like a fire being doused with gasoline.
The way he was looking at me was anything but subtle.
He was anything but subtle.
I didn’t care. I didn’t want subtle. I wanted bold.
A flash of thunder cut through the window, illuminating his face. His stunning features. Hard jaw. High cheekbones. Strong forehead. Full and curved mouth. Edible lips. And those eyes, they grabbed me and wouldn’t let go—like he saw the blackness inside me and wanted to add some light.
Ridiculous, I knew.
That smug grin he was wearing spread across his lips as he sat back down. The movement caused his dark hair to flip forward over his eyes. He pushed it away, and the gesture broke the trance I was in. Thick-lashed eyes shined as brilliant as the brightest lights I’d ever seen and amusement seemed to sparkle in their dark color.
All of a sudden I felt dizzy. Lost. Reborn. Taken back in time.
He was Eros.
I was Aphrodite.
He was Cupid.
I was Venus.
I let my bag drop to my feet beside my suitcase.
He twisted in my direction. “Crazy weather,” he said in a voice that was deep, cultured, sexy.
It made me shiver.
Half a nervous laugh snuck out of me. “You’re not kidding.”
Out of nowhere, the bartender set two heavy crystal glasses of amber-colored liquid in front of stock-photo guy and myself, and it shocked me. I hadn’t ordered anything, most especially not whiskey.
“Should I add this to your tab?” the bartender directed, and not toward me.
“Please,” stock-photo guy answered.
Embarrassment washed over me. He was with someone and I had misread him completely.
Hopping to my feet, I felt unsteady in my heels. “I’m so sorry. I should have asked if this seat was taken. I’ll get out of your way.”
Moving fast, he rose to his full height. He was close. So close. Floored by over six feet of hotness, his scent hit me immediately. Something manly, with a hint of the ocean. I took a moment to breathe it in and tried not to wince when the pain in my ribs struck.
His strong hands steadied my hips. “No, don’t leave. The drink is for you.”
And I felt. Felt his touch race down my hips, knot in my stomach, and make my toes curl.
If he was Cupid, I’d been struck by his arrow.
My gaze darted up, up, up, and when our eyes locked, my pulse started to race. “I can’t. I’m waiting for a flight,” I stupidly said.
He was a bad idea.
Staying was a bad idea.
This whole thing was a bad idea—and yet it already felt so good.
He dipped his head, those dark eyes going liquid with a heat I felt between my thighs. “In case you haven’t looked at the monitors, no one is going anywhere right now. All the planes are grounded until morning.”
I laughed, and it wasn’t an act. “I know that,” I replied. “What I meant was that drinking is a bad idea when I have such a long night ahead of me.”
His eyes flickered to my lips before returning to mine. “Exactly. It’s going to be a very long night, which is why drinking seems like a really good idea.”
No alarm bells rang. Instead, I smiled. I couldn’t stop smiling.
“Sit,” he said, moving back to his stool.
For a moment I forgot everything and allowed myself to get lost in the darkest, bluest eyes I’d ever seen. Without thinking anything through, I sat back down. “Maybe just one.”
The look he gave me screamed sinful bad boy.
“Reading Hotlanta?” I asked, pointing to his bag.
With a shake of his head, he blew my comment off. “More like reading crap.”
Okay, I had no response to that, and luckily I didn’t need one.
He lifted his glass. “To passing time,” he toasted.
The way he looked at me when he spoke made my pulse jump and nipples pop. Ignoring my body’s reaction to him, I lifted my own. “To passing time,” I repeated, clinking his glass.
I didn’t really have time.
I had a job to do.
I couldn’t stay with him.
I was stranded at the airport, after all.
I lowered my glass and sighed.
“Tough day?” he asked after taking more like a gulp of his whiskey.
“Yes,” I responded truthfully.
He took another long sip of his drink and let his eyes linger on my thighs. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.
In that moment I was no longer Sarah, the lonely rich wife or the wandering mistress or the high-priced call girl I had been sent here to be. I wasn’t acting. I didn’t want to. I was just being me. Albeit, a well dressed-up version of myself, but still me.
Following his lead, I practically guzzled the potent liquor. Once I’d drained it, I figured why not talk. Setting my empty glass down, I told him, “I had to make a decision today and I have no idea if I made the right one.”
In truth, I already knew it was the wrong one.
Being here was wrong.
Being with him was wrong.
And yet, talking to him felt right.
I shouldn’t have come here to steal what wasn’t mine, no matter the reason. It wasn’t me. I didn’t earn what these men had. And I hated myself for even thinking about taking from them.
It was then I looked into his eyes and saw that very familiar feeling of loathing. Those dark eyes I thought had been filled with mirth were actually brooding.
What did he hate himself for?
I wanted to know.
Was I a way for him to forget? If so, did it matter? Either way, I wanted to be the one to ease his pain.
And I had no idea why.
He downed the rest of his glass and signaled the bartender. “You know,” he said, “sometimes I think the only way to get by in this world is to step off for a while.”
I glanced at his bags on the floor. “Is that what you’re doing? Stepping off for a while?”
The bartender placed the entire bottle of Macallan Rare Cask in front of us, and hot photo-guy picked it up right away. “Something like that,” he answered as he poured. “My ex-fiancée got married yesterday, and I was there.”
“Ouch,” I said.
He nodded and finished pouring. “Yeah, hence the heavy drinking. So what’s your story?”
It felt wrong to lie, so I didn’t. I just didn’t tell the whole truth. “I was recently fired.”
“Ouch,” he offered back with a wicked grin and set the bottle down to hold out his hand. That strong, confident, dominant hand. “I’m Sundance.”
I raised a brow. “As in Butch Cassidy?”
“The very same. It’s a nickname, actually.”
I liked it.
I took his offered hand, and the electric current that ran up my arm was stronger than the alcohol flowing through my veins. “Sarah.” The lie slipped out, and I couldn’t take it back. Then again, I didn’t think it really mattered. “And stepping off for a while sounds like a really good idea.”
He leaned closer and lifted his glass. “So, Sarah, what are we going to do to make that happen?”
My brow lifted curiously. “I’m open to suggestions,” I said, the alcohol taking over where reason should have stepped in.
He drained his drink. “Are you?”
The way those two words came out sounded like an invitation. I was in the middle of downing my glass when I lowered it. “Yes, I am. I mean, within reason, of course.”
“Good to know.” He tossed me a panty-melting grin and poured a little more into his glass.
“Why? What do you have in mind?” Ignoring my one-drink rule, I drank a little more, knowing exactly what he had in mind. It was written all over his face—in the way his eyes seemed to have turned the darkest shade of blue, the way his sinful mouth curved ever-so-much, and the way he leaned in even closer to me.
When he was a breath away, he raised the sexiest brow in answer. “We could take this somewhere a little more private.”
I smiled back. A silent, “Yes, I’m interested.”
“One rule,” he cautioned.
Now I raised the brow. “Rules already? I don’t even know you,” I joked.
“And that’s the way I like it,” he deadpanned.
In that moment I knew what he wanted.
To be anonymous.
To be free.
And to get fucked.
I wanted all of those things, too.
He went on. “We don’t talk about our lives,” he murmured, kissing behind my ear.
I allowed my head to lull back, silently agreeing to his rule because even though he couldn’t possibly know it was the only way I could be with him, it was.
His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin of my throat, and I knew that somehow I had gone from the one doing the preying to the one being preyed on.
And I was okay with that.
Maybe stepping off for a while was exactly what I needed.
About the Author:
Reader * Chocolate Lover * Writer * Coffee Lover * Romantic * Beach Lover * Yoga Beginner
Kim Karr is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling author of eighteen novels. Best known for writing sexy contemporary love stories, she enjoys bringing flawed characters to life and creating romances that are page worthy. Her stories are raw, real, and explosive. Her characters will make you laugh, make you cry, make you feel. And her happily-ever-afters are always swoon worthy. From the brooding rock star to the arrogant millionaire to the Football Player. From the witty damsel-in-distress to the sassy high-powered businesswoman to the boutique owner. No two storylines are ever alike. If Kim‘s not writing, you can find her wandering through antique stores with her husband, trying out new fitness classes with her sons, venturing out to new coffee shops with her daughter, or with her nose stuck in a book.
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