By: Melissa Foster
Releasing
December 21, 2016
World Literary Press
World Literary Press
Sinfully sexy bar
owner Dylan Bad has a thing for needy women. He’s a savior, a knight in shining
armor, and his mighty talented sword has no trouble bringing damsels in
distress to their knees. Enter Tiffany Winters, a gorgeous cutthroat sports
agent who looks like sex on legs, fucks like she’s passion personified, and
wouldn’t let a man help her if she was hanging onto a ledge and he was her only
hope. One night and too much tequila might change their lives forever. The
question is, will either one survive?
“What’s your
pleasure?” he asked with more than a hint of innuendo.
You.
Naked, with your head buried between my legs, to start.
“Surprise
me.” She watched him turn to prepare her drink and checked out the way his dark
slacks hugged his perfect ass. It had been a long time since she’d found a
man this attractive. But Mick Bad’s brother? That spelled
trouble.
A minute
later he slid two drinks across the bar. A cocky smile spread across his
handsome face. “One Leg Spreader and one All Night
Long.” He dragged out each seduction-laden word.
“A little
overly confident, aren’t you?” She had no qualms about taking what she
wanted—in a boardroom or a bedroom—and Dylan’s confidence was a definite
turn-on.
He leaned
across the bar, and the temperature around them spiked. “I was going to add
a Blow Job, but I wasn’t sure how much you could handle.”
She held his
challenging gaze. “I think the question is, can you keep up?”
“Dylan!” a
guy called from across the room.
Dylan held up
a finger in the guy’s direction, his eyes never leaving Tiffany’s. He leaned in
so close she could smell alcohol on his breath—and God help her, she wanted to
suck the taste off his tongue.
“Mark my
words, gorgeous, you’ll be leaving here with me tonight.”
Heat streaked
down her spine. “Cocky. I like that. Tell Mick I said congratulations.” She
dropped her eyes as if she weren’t hanging on the very thought of devouring
him, but couldn’t resist stealing another peek at the tempting beefcake as he
walked away. Okay, maybe severallong glimpses, of which he caught
two or three and returned with an I-can’t-wait-to-fuck-you grin that had her
insides igniting.
She answered
another call and a few text messages, and a short while later, Dylan’s voice
spilled like warm cognac over her shoulder.
“You know
what they say about wedding hookups?”
She lifted
her gaze as he sat on the stool beside her. “What do they
say?”
“They say
they can’t happen if you don’t put your phone away.” Dylan boldly placed his
hand on her thigh. Long, strong fingers pressed into her flesh, sending rivers
of desire to the apex of her thighs.
She wondered
how big other parts of his anatomy were, and couldn’t help stealing a quick
glance. Oh yeah, he was packing major heat. A whiff of his spicy, masculine
scent brought all her best parts pulsing to life. His scent alone probably
brought more women to their knees than the Pope, but coupled with the sinful
promises in his dark eyes, the guy was lethal.
“I don’t put
my phone down for just anyone,” she answered, still holding his gaze. His
hungry eyes dropped to her mouth, lingering there long enough to make her
salivate. “Are you as good in the bedroom as you are behind the bar?”
“I’ll let you
be the judge of that.” He leaned closer, placing his mouth beside her ear.
“I’ll even let you hold your phone until you’re sure I’m worth it.”
Now, that was
a plan she could get on board with, except for one minor worry. “You’re my
colleague’s brother. I’m not sure you’re the smartest choice
for me tonight.”
He flashed a
wicked grin that she was sure opened many bedroom doors. “A gentleman never
tells.”
“You might
just be the perfect man.” Her phone vibrated again. She glanced at it, noting a
follow-up email from Allison, and the time. It was nearly midnight. Dylan’s
hand traveled further up her thigh, his fingertips sneaking beneath her skirt.
He was brazen, and she liked that in a man.
He eyed her
phone with a smirk and pressed his large hand to her cheek. His thumb moved
over her lower lip and hooked behind her front teeth. Her entire body
electrified as he delved deeper, brushing the tip over her tongue.
“When I get
done with you, you will have forgotten what that thing in your hand is.”
He was
smooth, practiced, and knew exactly what he was doing. Thank God.
She had so little time for sex, she couldn’t afford to waste it with a guy who
needed to be shown. Sliding her purse over her shoulder and still clutching her
phone, she turned to step off the stool. His hand traveled even higher up her
leg, a fingertip away from brushing over her sex, and she felt herself go damp.
Her pulse accelerated with the urge to slide forward on her barstool and let
him feel what he was doing to her, but she wasn’t ready to give him the upper
hand.
She casually
moved his hand and rose to her feet.
He spoke in a
greedy voice directly into her ear. “We’re going to have to change your name.”
He swung his jacket over his shoulder and guided her toward the door.
“You’re far
too hot for Winters.” He pushed the door open and lowered his mouth
to her neck, grazing his teeth along the base—the absolute most sensitive
spot on her entire body—and sending shivers down her spine. “From now on,
you’re my Summers.”
As her body
flamed and her insides melted, her mind struggled to figure out how he knew her
name and to deny what he’d just said. She was no man’s anything.
She turned to tell him just that, and he backed her up against the brick wall.
A cool breeze sailed over her skin as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them
beside her head, trapping her between the wall and his hard body. He claimed
her mouth with fierce domination. The way he ate at her mouth and his hips
gyrated against hers with no care about being out in public should have had her
fighting harder to regain the upper hand. But the harder she fought to reclaim
her rational thoughts, the more she craved him. Every part of her tingled and
burned for more. Her nipples tightened to painful peaks, her sex throbbed, and
her knees weakened. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d encountered
someone so potently male, if ever, and she fucking loved it. Shocked at her own
hungry response to his ravishment, she gave in to the unfamiliar thrills racing
through her and returned his efforts with reckless abandon. But the more she
gave, the softer the kisses became, until his lips were brushing lightly over
hers, taunting her. He pulled back with every crane of her neck as she sought
more. Still restraining her arms, he put space between their bodies. Cool
air whooshed between them, causing her nipples to prickle even
more painfully with the need to be touched.
“Oh, yes,” he
said with a territorial look in his eyes. “You’re my Summers, all
right.”
As blood
began to flow to her brain again, the realization of her loss of control was
staggering. She lifted her chin and wrenched her hands free. Holding his
challenging and so-fucking-hot gaze, she grabbed hold of his loosened tie and
tugged him in for another scorching kiss. When she felt his muscles relax, she
spun him against the wall with a thud, grinning at the shock
registering in his gorgeous eyes.
“I’m no
man’s anything. But you can be my stress relief
for the next hour.” She dragged her hand down his impressively broad chest and
over his taut abs, still clutching her phone, and cupped the formidable bulge
in his trousers.
“That
is, if you can keep it up that long.”
Melissa Foster is
a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and
award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance,
new adult romance, and women's fiction with emotionally compelling characters
that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional
journeys are lovingly erotic, perfect beach reads, and always family oriented.
No comments :
Post a Comment