Release Date: October 17, 2018
Cover Design: MadHat Books
What was I supposed to do?Trevor, my ex, had broken my heart. Again. My besties were floating on the sexual equivalent of cloud nine with their respective soul mates. My crazy, surrogate, Jewish grandma was drinking all my wine and sharing all my secrets. You would have done the same. Because Cole Mason was just standing there. The rancher from Texas who had me silently begging for him to call me ma’am. Beckoning me with those dark-brown eyes I caught staring at my tits and a body I wanted to climb like a tree. Never mind that he was my new neighbor, one that I disliked from the start. I knew in time he’d either lasso my broken heart and fix it, or I’d pull a Trevor and break his. Looking back, one thing is for certain, I don’t regret a damn thing.
Cole holds my hand the entire drive home, our hands resting on my left thigh. His thumb running along the side of my hand. That small touch drives me wild. I can’t wait to get him out of this car and into my bedroom. I’m so turned on it’s all I can do not to straddle him while he’s driving. I don’t even sing along to 70’s on 7, I can’t focus on anything other than him.
How can he still drive and remain so calm?
I want him to be as frazzled as I am. As turned on as I am. Though, from the looks of his cock in his jeans, he’s hard as a rock. I wait until we turn on to the private road leading to our properties before I unclip my seat belt and swing my right leg around to straddle him. I tilt my hips down, so I can feel all of him, then bury my head in his neck and nibble my way from his ear down past his neckline. One of his arms immediately goes around me, pulling me in tighter while the other one tries to steer.
“Fuck it,” he says stopping the truck and putting it in park. He grabs my face in his hands and looks me in the eye.
“You’re asking for trouble, Sweetness,” he says.
“Are you trouble? Cause then, yes I am,” I smile.
He leans in and kisses me.
His palms never leaving my cheeks, his lips never leaving mine. We kiss until the windows fog and my lips are numb, and neither one of us can catch our breath. My body overheated, I lean back away from him and try to get my bearings.
“Let’s go,” he says gruffly.
He starts the truck and puts it into drive, then cruises along at a slowish speed along the dark private drive. I place my palms on either side of his face and lower my lips to his, kissing him softly. Then pulling away slightly to run my tongue along his upper lip and place kisses on either side of his mouth. When I look up, I see that he’s watching me and not the road, and that the truck is hardly moving. I pull his bottom lip between my teeth and bite gently, then soothe it with my tongue. Rolling my hips against him.
God, he feels good.
I pepper kisses around his mouth as I run my hands down his biceps, over his abs, and back up to his chest. Feeling the solid muscle under the silky shirt. We reach my house and he parks the truck, grabs my hands and brings them behind my back. Holding them there with one hand and using the other at the back of my head to hold it still.
“Turnabout is fair play, Sweetness.” He starts with his lips at the base of my neck and works his way up to my jawline, hitting all of the sensitive places at once, making my body quiver.
The minute his lips hit mine, I know this kiss will be different.
And it is.
More demanding and possessive than before. With a bit of ‘me Tarzan, you Jane’ thrown in. His lips sure, his tongue demanding, his hips thrusting. My dress slips up to my waist. My panties are the only thing between me and the friction of his jeans. I’ve been so turned on all night. And he’s so hard. Everywhere. The slightest little…
Oh. My. God.
“Oh, Cole,” I moan into his mouth. “I think… ohhh.” I grind down on him as he thrusts up, and I orgasm. A large, long, spectacular, breathtaking orgasm that has me undulating against him. My body wracked with waves of explosive pleasure flooding through me.
“There you go. Oh yeah. So beautiful. So hot. Take it, baby,” he groans against my lips. My head falls back as he moves his mouth to my neck, sucking and biting, pulling on my hair. I’m arched against him, hips pressed together, my upper back hitting the top of his steering wheel. My body slowly melting back down to reality.
“Jesus Christ, Sweetness,” he says against my hair as he releases my hands.
“Mmmm,” I stretch up and wind my arms around his neck and lay my upper body against his. My face in his neck. He runs his hands up and down my back, pulling me tight against him.
“Holy shit, that was good,” I say.
Cole moves one of his hands from my back to my bare thigh, fingers crawling higher and higher until he’s almost at my panty line. I shiver with anticipation. He kisses my lips, then leans his forehead against mine, rubbing the tips of our noses together until I look at him.
“I haven’t even touched you yet, Sweetness.”
“I won’t be able to take it when you do,” I smile.
“You can and you will,” he says.
Love Undecided (San Soloman - Book 1)
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2GGpr2Q
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Love Undiscovered (San Soloman - Book 2)
Amazon US: https://amzn.to/2JWg4h4
Amazon UK: https://amzn.to/2Oe7WMi
Amazon CA: https://amzn.to/2LyelUj
Amazon AU: https://amzn.to/2LpgVN1
One of Five ARC's for Love Unforgettable
About the Author
I can't live without nail polish, the darker the better.I drink a glass of wine every day, but if I could get away with it, I’d drink a bottle. My favorite things to eat are chips with salsa. But red vines and popcorn are a close runner-up. I currently reside with four dogs, two cats, and one husband. Three of my dogs are Siberian Huskies, so my clothes always have fur on them. Always. Given the opportunity, I would read books all day long. So far my record for a single day is five full-length books. Hoodies are my favorite item of clothing, bras are my least. Hats are my second favorite. They look good on my head. I’m lucky that way. When I’m writing well, I’m barely reading. And vice-versa. I’m a terrible dancer and have no rhythm. Like zero. Just ask my husband. I started an underground literary magazine in college, which I credit for really launching my narcissistic tendencies via writing. If I couldn’t be a writer, I would be a rockstar. Someone from Journey, preferably the Steve Perry years.
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