I make my weary way upstairs to our new master suite to find Damon already showered and dressed, or shall I say undressed, for bed. He’s lying across our mammoth bed in nothing but those yummy little trunk underwear. They hug and hold tight to every delicious curve of his…assets. The bulge of his considerable girth is evident even when he’s relaxed. The elastic fabric clings and cups him so perfectly that my fingers feel a little itchy. It’s a hell of a sight that has my mouth watering for the salty velvet taste of him on my tongue.
I pause at the door and take a moment to breathe in the sight of him. He’s watching me watch him and the air between us grows heady and thick all at once.
“Get over here. I need to be inside my future wife,” he orders in a composed voice, ripe with the guarantee of pleasure.
Without saying a word, I stroll across the space between us. Damon sits upright and swings his legs off the side of the bed, inviting me to stand between his bare, beefy thighs. I do as he silently ordered. His hands envelope each of mine at my sides and drift slowly up my naked arms, coming to a halt at my neck. His fingers curl around the nape of my neck as the other hand cups my jaw. I’m pulled closer to him, our faces only millimeters apart. His heavy eyes slide shut. It’s clear that my Big Man is doing what he does so frequently. He’s savoring this. He’s savoring me. He’s taking his sweet time because more often than not, that’s just how he prefers it. My lips are achingly close to his. As many times as I’ve felt the fullness of his mouth covering mine, it never gets old. I edge my head forward, hoping that my wanton lips can coax his perfect mouth into giving me what I long for. The grip he has on the nape of my neck tightens fractionally, keeping me in place. It keeps me deprived of what I want and only works to cultivate my appetite for all of him. Just as he wants me. Damon is a calculated man. He has a purpose and a plan for everything he does. Even in the bedroom. His hand on my neck is a subtle way to control and direct me. I happily accept his control over my body.
“You have to get this wedding planned,” he says hoarsely. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait to make you my wife.”
Purchase the rest of the series
Wreck Me (#1)
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Restore Me (#2)
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USA Today Best Selling Author,J.L. Mac is twenty-seven years old and currently resides in El Paso, Texas, where she enjoys living near her family. She was born and raised in Galveston, Texas. J.L. admittedly has had a long and sordid love affair with the written word and has loved every minute of it. She drinks too many glasses of wine on occasion, and says way too many swear words to be considered “lady-like.” J.L. spends her free time reading, writing, and playing with her children.
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Release Day Blitz: Surrendering To Us by Chelsea M. Cameron ~ Bianca's Review and Kindle Fire Giveaway!
I received an ARC in exchange for an honest review
Is it over already? I don't think I could get enough Rory and Lucah, and this follow up was no exception.
As with any couple, Rory and Lucah face obstacles in their relationship. There is a threat of an ex and Rory's insecurities causes a rift between her and Lucah. Despite everything, Lucah reassures Rory that she is the only woman for him. I absolutely love Lucah. He's sexy, smart, and so swoon worthy. He truly solidifies his love for Rory in this book through his actions. He loves Rory beyond anything and anyone else.
There are some unexpected twists and turns in this one as Rory and Lucah continue with their relationship. The story is also filled with humor and romance. This series is definitely one of my favorites in that I truly have connected with Rory and Lucah. In this book we get to know the important people in their lives and roles they play.
Like the fist book, Sweet Surrendering, Rory and Lucah have the most amazing chemistry. Their relationship is so realistic and genuine. I absolutely loved that the story was a little slower paced than the last one. We truly get to see Rory and Lucah grow not only as a couple, but as individuals. Their relationship started in secret and based on some lies, so to watch them build their lives together and continue to fall deeper in love was amazing to read. If you liked the first book, you will love Surrendering To Us. Watching their story continue was thrilling and exciting. Their love for each other truly shines in this follow up.
Rory and Lucah's story is far from over. I just know it! The story didn't end in a cliffhanger, but it ended in such a way that I want more. I am looking forward to the rest in this series. Please Ms. Cameron, we want more Rory and Lucah!
Chelsea M. Cameron is a YA/NA New York Times/USA Today Best Selling author from Maine. Lover of things random and ridiculous, Jane Austen/Charlotte and Emily Bronte Fangirl, red velvet cake enthusiast, obsessive tea drinker, vegetarian, former cheerleader and world's worst video gamer. When not writing, she enjoys watching infomercials, singing in the car and tweeting (this one time, she was tweeted by Neil Gaiman). She has a degree in journalism from the University of Maine, Orono that she promptly abandoned to write about the people in her own head. More often than not, these people turn out to be just as weird as she is.
Her New Adult Contemporary Romance titles include My Favorite Mistake, which has been bought by Harlequin along with a sequel, Deeper We Fall and Faster We Burn (April 20, 2013).
Her Young Adult books include Nocturnal, Nightmare and Neither, the first three books in The Noctalis Chronicles. The fourth and final book, Neverend will be out in 2013. Whisper, the first in The Whisper Trilogy is also available, with the second book in the series, Silence and the final book, LIsten coming out in 2014.
Connect with Chelsea: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads
HAPPY RELEASE DAY TO A.L JACKSON AND HER NEW BOOK COME TO ME QUIETLY!Lost to You and When We Collide comes a new adult novel of one woman’s obsession: a man who’s as passionate as he is elusive—and as tempting as he is trouble.… Aleena Moore is haunted by Jared Holt. It’s been six years since she’s seen her brother’s best friend, the self-destructive bad boy she secretly loved in high school. As the years pass, she knows it’s time to move on. Time to decide between a practical nursing degree and her true dream as an artist. Time to get over Jared and give another guy a chance… Just when she opens her heart to her friend Gabe, Aly returns home to find Jared sleeping on her couch. The teenage boy she loved has grown into a man she can’t resist. Covered in tattoos and lost in rage, he’s begging to be saved from his demons—the memories of the day he destroyed his family. As the two reconnect, their passion is hot enough to torch Aly’s judgment. But can she risk her future for a man who lives on the edge of destruction?
She first found a love for writing during her days as a young mother and college student. She filled the journals she carried with short stories and poems used as an emotional outlet for the difficulties and joys she found in day-to-day life.
Years later, she shared a short story she’d been working on with her two closest friends and, with their encouragement, this story became her first full length novel. A.L. now spends her days writing in Southern Arizona where she lives with her husband and three children. Her favorite pastime is spending time with the ones she loves.
She reaches for my fries with an undecided look on her face. “So I have a question.”
I slowly chew my food. “I’m not really sure I want to hear your question now.”
She picks a pickle off of her burger, pulling a repulsed face. “Well, I’m still going to ask it.”
I grab a handful of fries from the tray that’s on the table between us. “Go ahead and ask but it doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
She props her elbows onto the table with her burger in her hand. “Why haven’t you ever talked to me before? I mean, we’ve walked past each other probably a hundred times, but never so much as acknowledged each other and then suddenly you’re stalking me.”
I pick up my soda and sip from the straw. “First off, I’m not stalking you. I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”
“You didn’t have to stop to pick me up.”
“Yeah, I did.”
“Why? You don’t know me—you’re in no way obligated to help me.”
“I know, but I wanted to.”
I shrug, setting my drink down. “Why not?”
She gives me a funny look, like I’m the most confusing person in the world, when really she should be looking at herself like that. “I don’t get it. Why would someone like you help someone like me?”
I open up the bun of my chicken sandwich to pick the tomato off. “What do you mean someone like me and someone like you?”
She points at me. “You as in a football player who has friends.” Then she points at herself. “And me as in the loner girl who could probably kick your ass.”
I choke on a laugh and my mouth full of food almost shoots out of my nose. “You could not kick my ass,” I cough, and then take a swallow of my drink.
She scans me over while scooping up some fries. “I beg to differ. I think you’re not as tough as you try to look.”
“Do you really?” If only she knew what really lay inside me. “Because most people think I am and for a good reason.”
“I think it’s all for show,” she replies nonchalantly and I can’t tell if she’s being serious or not. “I think that deep down you’re just a softy.”
“Are you trying to pick a fight with me right now?” I set my sandwich down on the tray and crack my knuckles. “Because I’m not going to fight a girl.”
“That’s such a typical guy answer.” She hurries and takes a drink, but I detect a hint of a smile before her lips wrap around the straw.
“You know what I think?” I cross my arms on the table and lean in, cocking my head to the side as I observe her closely. “I think you like arguing with me and that’s why you’re bringing this up.”
Her shoulders lift and descend as she takes a bite of her hamburger. “Maybe, but maybe I’m being serious.”
“You know that as a football player I have to tackle guys, right? It takes strength to do that.”
“Maybe you just run, though,” she counters. “Maybe you’re just good at running.”
The way she says it reminds me so much of my past and it’s like a kick to the stomach. “Maybe I’m not, though. Maybe I suck at running.” I sound choked and I decide it’s time to cut this conversation short, my brain seeking that potent taste of Jack and Tequila mixed with nicotine. I glance at my watch, pretending to check the time. “I just remembered that I have to meet Kayden somewhere in like a half an hour, so I’m going to have to take you back.”
She balls up the wrapper for her hamburger, acting nonchalant, but her shoulders are stiff. “Sounds good to me. I was done anyway.” She seems irritated and I have no idea why, other than she seems to be able to read through my bullshit and test me, which most people can’t and won’t even try. I’m supposed to be a closed book. A mystery. That way no one can see who I really am. It’s the way I’ve been living for years and it’s comfortable. Not ideal, but nothing is ideal.
We don’t talk as I collect our garbage and then walk next to her as she limps out to my truck. I try to offer her my arm and open the door for her, but she denies my offer, moving to the opposite door and pushing it open.
During the car ride, she barely says two words to me. I should be happy about it. That way there’s no room for sudden questions and statements that will set me off, however I find myself missing the bantering thing we had going and the way she pushed my buttons. By the time I drop her off, all I want to do is ask her to stay, talk some more, let me get to know her. But I don’t understand why. I’ve never wanted to get to know anyone before. I’ve never even been out on a date. Each woman I’ve been with, I’ve only been with once. Just sex. That’s all it’s ever about. And I’ve never wanted anything more.
The New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Jessica Sorensen, lives with her husband and three kids. When she's not writing, she spends her time reading and hanging out with her family.
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Wes put his chin on my shoulder. “What the hell is that?”
I put my phone down and turned to face him. “Nothing that concerns you.”
“Are you seriously sexting another guy while I’m in your bed?”
“What?” I raised an eyebrow. “No. Who the hell even says that word? That’s reserved for political scandals.”
“I’m saying it because you were dirty texting another guy while you had me in bed with you? Are you also sending pics of your boobs too?”
My mouth gaped open. “What the hell? Do you just think I’m some kind of slut?”
He groaned, propping up on his elbow. “No. I just know how guys think. If some dude is texting you at 1 AM it’s not because he wants to go out for tea and cookies. He wants sex.”
“And I’m sure you haven’t done that millions of times.”
“I’m not an animal, Val. I have a little bit more respect for women than that.”
“Says the guy who married a girl he just met in Vegas.”
He grunted, grabbing my phone and putting it on the table beside us. “I could have done a lot worse.” He placed a quick kiss on my cheek but let his lips hover just above it. “And I don’t regret it one bit.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. Truth was, I was starting not to regret it either.
He pushed a strand of hair behind my ear before his lips trailed back to my cheek and then down my neck, his stubble tickling my sensitive skin. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now than here with you in this bed. I could lay here forever underneath these fake stars.”
I sucked in a breath, unsure of what to say next. But the moment didn’t really need words either. He breathed into my neck as if he was inhaling all of me. Trying to make a memory of my scent.