Jamie Matthews is stuck in a rut. After hitting a wall with her dream career, she’s back in her hometown, living a life as monotonous as swimming laps in the neighborhood pool.
Being surrounded by her perfect brothers is a painful reminder of her failure to launch. The last bonfire of the summer is an ideal way to let off steam, especially when she runs into Dean Trescott, the playboy friend she had one hot-as-hell night with back in high school.
Since the day Dean met Jamie, he’s loved her beauty, talent, and smile that lit up the whole damn block. But dating isn’t an option. She has a bright future ahead of her, and he refuses to chain her to his—helping run the family business that’s barely staying afloat.
A “what-happens-in-Vegas” weekend was supposed to get their craving for each other out of their systems. But neither counted on the past repeating itself, drawing them together in even hotter and dirtier ways and dangling the possibility they might both be able to get exactly what they need…
Warning: A friends-to-lovers twice over story that contains some hot ’n’ heavy kissing in the waves, hair pulling, and a man who knows how to use his hands. It may also feature a few practical jokes—only the fun kind, of course.
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“Who are we hanging out with tonight?”
Krissy’s question yanked Jamie back into the present.
“Just my friends,” she replied, hoping her blasé expression would mask the restless energy pumping through her. “Three guys I grew up with and have known forever.”
The soft hisses and sizzling pops of the bonfire guided her toward where Dean and her friends were sitting. They made a semi-circle by the lifeguard stand she’d spent the summer perched on, a plume of smoke between them spiraling up toward the sky.
Jamie gripped the peeling white wood and swung her body around it, throwing herself into a grand entrance.
Dean had the mouth of an open beer bottle by his lips, but paused when he saw her, his lips curling up into a smirk. His chin was masked by the day’s worth of stubble he always seemed to have. His crop of dirty blond hair was cut close on the sides but longer in the front, a few slightly mussed strands hanging down low over his eyes. Every inch of him said confident and relaxed, from his ever-present work boots to the swirling lines of ink that wound like ivy from his wrist to his neck.
He was sex incarnate, a wolf on the prowl in a black T-shirt and jeans.
“Jamie Matthews. My favorite girl.”
“Oh, I’m still your favorite, huh?”
She was no more his favorite than the last piece of ass he’d hooked up with, but she liked the nickname nonetheless. She also liked the way his gaze swooped from her face to her breasts and back up again. It was part of the game they played, one she wanted to lose herself in tonight.
He grinned. “Of course.”
“Good to know.” Jamie dropped to the sand by his side, kicked off her flip-flops and stretched out her legs. “I guess that means I’m entitled to your beer.”
She snagged his bottle from his fingertips and took a deep, icy swallow.
“Oh, go right ahead.” Dean’s voice oozed with sarcasm, but there was humor behind it. He nodded to Krissy.
Rebecca Grace Allen writes kinky new adult and hot contemporary BDSM romance. She holds a Bachelor of Arts in English with a double concentration in Creative Writing and Literary Comparison, as well as a Master of Science in Elementary Education, both of which seemed like good ideas at the time. After stumbling through careers in entertainment, publishing, law and teaching, she’s returned to her first love: writing. A self-admitted caffeine addict and gym rat, she currently lives in upstate New York with her husband, two parakeets, and a cat with a very unusual foot fetish. - See more at: http://www.rebeccagraceallen.com/about#sthash.ngkVvJap.dpuf
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