✨EXCERPT: THE ONLY THING THAT’S REAL by @lisashelbybooks releasing May 20th!
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“Hi.” She lifts a hand in a wave that should be sheepish, but with the balls on this woman, not even close. “Remember me?”
“Kind of hard to forget you when you seem to be everywhere.”
Nice. Let her know she’s getting to you. Just hand her the ammo, why don’t you?
Not stopping to give her the time of day, even though I promised Trev I’d talk to her, I push past Ryan, ignoring how big her eyes are and her gaping mouth. She’s shocked at my rudeness, even though she should be used to it by now.
“Have I offended you?” she asks for anyone nearby to hear, stopping me in my tracks. My attempt at escape is futile. If I don’t talk to her now, I have a feeling she’ll reappear around the next corner I turn.
“Nope, just not real trusting of journalists. I haven’t always gotten a fair shake in the press.”
“Well, I can’t imagine why. What, with the way you ooze charm and kindness.”
Damn that mouth of hers. The corners of my mouth threaten to break out into a smile, but I tamp it down, spinning around to see the sarcastic expression that goes with her smartass remark.
Her hands are on her hips, eyes narrowed in a glare aimed right at me. She doesn’t give a damn about my status. And I fucking love it.
“You bust everyone’s balls like this, or am I special?” I ask.
“Only balls that need to be busted. As for you being special… I think that may be all in your head.”
Chuckling, I say, “You’re something else, aren’t you?”
“Nah, just not intimidated by rock stars. You’ve met one, you’ve met them all. Although I was hoping you’d be different.”
Well, shit. She’s knocked the wind out of me with that one. I take a second to let the oxygen back into my lungs while she watches me. Waiting.
“Fine,” I relent. “Name a time.”
“2pm tomorrow.”
“My suite. Don’t be late.”
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✨EXCERPT: BEAUTIFUL MESS by @authorashleyjames writing as A. James is coming May 12!#PreOrderNow
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The kiss ends just as quickly as it began, but before I have a chance to demand her mouth on mine again, Grace drops to her knees in front of me.
Right here in the entryway of this house.
The house that isn’t mine.
The house that belongs to somebody who will be back soon.
My pulse races, tingles spreading all over my body as my blood pumps hotter and my cock thickens. Grace peers up at from beneath her lashes, biting down on her bottom lip, as her fingers confidently pop open my belt buckle before working my jeans open. Dipping her warm, delicate hand inside my boxers, she frees my length, heat flashing in her gaze as she strokes me, quickly getting me all the way hard.
A sultry smirk curls Grace’s irresistible fucking lips, her pupils blown, eyes gleaming, as she leans in and sticks out her wet, pink tongue, dragging it along my slit, moaning as she cleans up the pooling arousal waiting for her. Pleasure bursts through my body, thrumming through my veins like the most intoxicating liquor, as she wraps her lips around my tip and sinks down, easing more of me into her mouth until she gags, shoulders heaving and tears springing to her eyes.
“Fuck,” I groan, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “I wish you could see yourself right now, Sin. Who knew you could be so dirty, sucking Daddy’s cock in somebody else’s house.”
Eyes rolling back, Grace moans, the sound vibrating around my cock, making my nuts throb.
“What if he comes home and sees you like this?” I hum, tracing where her lips stretch wide to accommodate my thick girth with my thumb. “He’d see you on your knees with a cock in your mouth. Hear the way you’re a fucking slut for it too. Isn’t that right, baby girl?”
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✨EXCERPT: AXE-ING FOR TROUBLE by @daphneelliotauthor releasing May 19!
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Jude walked in, looking more handsome than when he’d left. It was some kind of superpower that should be studied by scientists.
“Miss me, Trouble?” He set a small amp on the floor, then rested his guitar case against the wall.
My brain told me to play it cool. But I was in no emotional state to pretend.
“Yes.” I strode across the room and planted a big kiss right on his lips. “I missed you a lot.”
He smiled down at me, his expression a perfect mix of surprise and delight. “I missed you too. I felt guilty about going out to play without you, so I thought I might put on a little show for you here. How does that sound?”
Stunned, I stumbled back a step, nodding a little too vigorously.
“Gimme a minute.”
He came back a few minutes later with a stool and one of the acoustic guitars he kept on a stand in the spare bedroom. As he settled in front of the fireplace, he gave me a shy smile.
“Sit down,” he said, lowering his head and plucking a string, tuning the instrument.
The sight of him, perched on his stool, one of his long legs extended while he bit his lip and adjusted the frets, made it impossible not to swoon.
Or maybe it was the jeans, light-washed and broken in, hugging the curves of his muscular thighs. Or the maroon T-shirt that hid nothing. Whatever it was, it made me lightheaded despite the ungodly number of almonds I’d consumed earlier.
“Any requests?” His eyes sparkled, reminiscent of the way he’d looked that night on stage when I’d come home with him. The easy posture, the quiet confidence.
“Your favorites.”
With a nod, he tapped one foot, then played the opening chords to “Blackbird” by the Beatles. And when he opened his mouth and the lyrics came out? A host of tingles swept through me. Holy shit. He could sing.
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