Sunday, 29 July 2018

#Firstchapter #Newrelease #Stepromance #Secretbaby It's LIVE! Grab this sexy billionaire Aussie alpha romance now!


IT'S LIVE!

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON AND FREE IN KU



Quick & Reckless

Book 3, A Quick Billionaires Novel
A steamy secret baby, step romance.

Sometimes being reckless can be a step in the right direction. 

Abandoned at the altar, humiliated in front of everyone she knows, Silver Belle (save the stripper jokes, she’s heard them all), flees her wedding determined to erase her ex-fiance from her memory. There’s a soul-mate for everyone? What a joke: there’s obviously none for her. She’s done with love. Done with doing the right thing. So when she meets Warren McAllister, a heart-stopping, drool-worthy Australian, she throws caution—and propriety to the wind—and makes him an outrageous proposal.

Warren’s always up for a challenge, so when a beautiful stranger in a poufy white dress dares him to join her for a weekend of passion to erase her past, he’s more than willing to sign up. Sex is just sex, after all. Only saying goodbye is harder than he expected, and he can’t seem to forget her, even after heading back to Tahiti for work. So when he returns a year later for his mother’s wedding, he’s excited to see Silver, ready for another tryst—and possibly even more.

Though their fling only lasted three days, Warren changed Silver, helped her, healed her. And he captured her heart. However, now she has secrets. Big “baby-sized” secrets that could destroy any possibility of a future together. She can only hope Warren will forgive her.





Chapter 1
Silver

Stupid motherfucker. Selfish jackass. Prickless prick. If she ever saw that son of a bitch again, she’d rip his balls off with her bare hands and shove them down Candy’s throat. Lord knows that home-wrecking slut had other parts of Silver’s fiancĂ© down her throat at some point.
Fuckers. Both of them. And they could rot in hell for all she cared.
Handing the cab driver a hundred dollar bill and not even bothering to get change, Silver stepped out of the taxi, slammed the door and made her way toward the wide double doors of the hotel bar. She’d asked the cabby to take her to a bar, far, far away from the church. To a place where she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew and could just wallow, drink and forget. He’d nodded solemnly, taking in her state of dress and tear-stained face, and then driven roughly forty minutes out of West Vancouver and toward downtown.
The June weather was warm. Perfect wedding weather. Fuck weddings. Fuck grooms. Fuck commitment. Fuck life.
The hinges squealed as she heaved on the brass handle and pulled open the door. The bar was dark, but clean and inviting. There were no weird stains on the carpet, the smell of Lemon Pledge hung gently in the air, and the bartender appeared to have all his teeth and not be a lecherous weirdo. Things were looking up … slightly.
It was a newer hotel, so everything still seemed shiny and fresh. Yet, even then, there was an Old World vibe to the place. A grand piano sat on a stage near the back along with a microphone stand, there were dark booths lining each of the walls, and all the lighting was muted and intimate. The perfect place to get lost in one’s problems and not be noticed by a soul as the alcohol slowly numbed the pain. Dusk was setting in, so the outside patio seemed to be hopping, but inside was still rather quiet, and only a scattering of people rimmed the horseshoe bar.
Silver pulled up a stool at the bar. It wasn’t lost on her that she was drawing a few glances. She was hard to miss. But she hadn’t had time to run home and change. At least not to their home. She fought back tears.
I will not cry.
Their home. God. She couldn’t live there anymore. Not with the knowledge that Trent had probably fucked Candy all over their goddamn apartment. Besides her clothes, Silver was going to have to burn the rest of her stuff, or at the very least disinfect the bejesus out of it.
She shuddered at the thought.
“What can I get you?”
Silver’s head snapped up from where she’d been staring at the engagement ring on her finger to find the bartender, an attractive man in his mid- to later fifties, giving her the curious lone eyebrow quirk. “I’m guessing something hard and mind-numbing?”
Silver nodded. “Sounds perfect.”
The bartender nodded back and walked away for a moment. He returned seconds later with a clean lowball glass and a bottle of what looked to be decent whiskey. He poured an ounce.
“More.” Silver nodded, tapping the bar.
He added another ounce, then glanced up at her.
She nodded.
He poured.
When it was around four ounces she finally tapped the bar again. He sniffed through his nose and gave her a lopsided smile filled with sympathy before taking off to the other side of the bar.
Silver brought the glass to her lips and took a sip.
It burned.
She winced.
She took another sip.
It still burned.
But she liked the pain. It matched the pain in her heart. It matched the pain she wanted to inflict on Trent and Candy.
“People only drink like that for two reasons,” said a deep and sexy voice with what sounded like an Australian accent. “They’re either wallowing or celebrating. And I’m guessing right now,” his eyes traveled the length her, climbing her body with such lazy indulgence you’d think she was naked, “you’re the former.”
Yes, definitely an Aussie. Her skin broke out into gooseflesh despite the warmth of the bar. She could have sworn she felt his hand travel up her arm. But he was several seats over, and both his hands were cradling his beer bottle.
“What gave it away?” she asked with a snort.
His smile stole the breath from her lungs, and she swayed where she sat. Glancing briefly at her glass, Silver contemplated another sip. Was she already drunk? Or was he just that handsome?
“You here alone?” she asked. Glancing at her glass again, she shrugged, tipped it back and drained it. This time both the bushy brows of the bartender lifted on his forehead. She nodded. He was over in a jiff, topping her up.
Aussie man chuckled. Fuck, even his laugh was sexy. Throaty and deep, and just rough enough to suggest he may at one point have enjoyed the odd cigarette or indulged in a weekly cigar. He was tucked just far enough away, near the dimly lit corner of the bar, so she couldn’t quite tell how old he was or what color his eyes were. She knew his hair was dark, but if his eyes were blue, she was a goner.
“I’m here alone,” he finally answered. “Why do you ask?”
Silver’s eyes drifted to the vacant seat beside her. “I hate to drink alone,” she said.
Taking her invitation, he moved over three seats and joined her. One of the pot lights overhead was shining down on him now, giving her the perfect opportunity to see every inch of his big, hard body.
He was younger than she would have thought, given the deep voice, maybe twenty-eight or thirty? But his face didn’t hold an ounce of baby to it, it was all man. Chiseled and refined, with a dark, close-shaved scruff hugging his angular jaw.
His laugh stirred her from her scrutiny. “Ya done checking me out?”
Silver swallowed and removed her eyes from the V of his legs. Fuck, had she really been staring at the crotch of his dark-wash jeans? She was biting her lip, and her face was warm.
Yup, she had been.
Shit.
With embarrassment clinging to every cell of her body, she slowly lifted her head.
Double shit.
Those were some blue eyes.
“Hmm?” he hummed.
Swallowing again, she nodded. “Uh-huh.”
“Good.”
She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth again. Could she? Should she? She’d never done a reckless or spontaneous thing in her life, and look where that got her. Sitting in a random hotel bar on her wedding night, contemplating asking a hot, sexy foreigner to fuck her brains out on what was supposed to be the happiest day of her life. Yep, if this wasn’t rock bottom, Silver didn’t know what was.
“You, ah, you staying at the hotel?” she asked, nerves running rampant through her at the idea of what she was doing. She’d never propositioned someone before; hell, she’d never even hit on a guy before. But just like a bolt of lightning, that whiskey hit her in the brain hard and then whooshed right down until her toes tingled. She could do this. She was going to do this. Tipping back her glass one more time, and with new whiskey-fueled confidence, she signaled for the bartender.
He was back in a flash. “Careful, Miss. I hope you intend to cab home.”
“Cabbed here,” she said, flashing him a big, drunk smile.
He nodded solemnly as he poured her two more ounces.
“So.” She turned to face Mr. Sexy-Accent Man. “You staying upstairs? Got a room?”
His smile was slow and sexy, and the way it made every muscle inside her clench had Silver crossing her legs and squeezing before she knew what she was doing. “I don’t fuck drunk chicks.”
Her bottom lip dropped open. “I ... uh ... ”
Reaching back down the bar closer to where he’d been sitting, he snatched a big leather menu off the top of a pile. “Pick something to eat. I’m buying. You need to put some food in your belly, otherwise you won’t be able to walk, let alone talk or fuck in an hour.”
“I ... uh … ”
He flipped open the menu and started perusing. “I could go for a burger. You?”
She hadn’t even been thinking about food. After this afternoon, nothing but booze and lots of it had been on her mind. But then the more she thought about it, the more she realized she was starving. She’d been too nervous to eat this morning. Her aunt had said it was cold feet, the jitters, but now Silver thought perhaps it was intuition. That she knew, deep down, how the day was going to play out.
A burger sounded perfect. A greasy, gooey, cheesy burger with lots of fries. And onion rings. She didn’t have to fit into a dress anymore, so she’d eat whatever she wanted.
She nodded. “Sounds perfect.”


Friday, 27 July 2018

#Newrelease #Stepromance #Secretbaby It's LIVE! Grab this sexy billionaire Aussie alpha romance now!


IT'S LIVE!

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON AND FREE IN KU



Quick & Reckless

Book 3, A Quick Billionaires Novel
A steamy secret baby, step romance.

Sometimes being reckless can be a step in the right direction. 

Abandoned at the altar, humiliated in front of everyone she knows, Silver Belle (save the stripper jokes, she’s heard them all), flees her wedding determined to erase her ex-fiance from her memory. There’s a soul-mate for everyone? What a joke: there’s obviously none for her. She’s done with love. Done with doing the right thing. So when she meets Warren McAllister, a heart-stopping, drool-worthy Australian, she throws caution—and propriety to the wind—and makes him an outrageous proposal.

Warren’s always up for a challenge, so when a beautiful stranger in a poufy white dress dares him to join her for a weekend of passion to erase her past, he’s more than willing to sign up. Sex is just sex, after all. Only saying goodbye is harder than he expected, and he can’t seem to forget her, even after heading back to Tahiti for work. So when he returns a year later for his mother’s wedding, he’s excited to see Silver, ready for another tryst—and possibly even more.

Though their fling only lasted three days, Warren changed Silver, helped her, healed her. And he captured her heart. However, now she has secrets. Big “baby-sized” secrets that could destroy any possibility of a future together. She can only hope Warren will forgive her.





Excerpt


“Have you ever been blindfolded?” he asked.
She shook her head, her fingers pausing on her clit.
His grin was wicked and wild and made her clit throb beneath her fingertips. “Excellent.” He held up the necktie. “Silver for Silver.” Then he proceeded to cover her eyes, wrapping the satiny fabric over her face ever so gently and securing it at the back of her head. “Can you see?” he asked, his voice deep and reassuring next to her.
“No.”
“Perfect.”
His fingers touched hers, and she removed them from her pussy. It was her night to take, her night for pleasure, and this man promised to drive her to the brink and beyond. He brushed her clit.
“You wax?” he asked, kneading the cheek of her ass with his other hand.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Good. I like it.”
She’d never been blindfolded before, but having her vision compromised was proving to be a huge turn on. She was able to turn off one of her senses and let the other ones take over. Smells were stronger, sounds clearer, even his touch seemed more intense than before.
“Just feel, baby. All you deserve is to feel incredible tonight. Feel worshipped, cherished … empowered.
So she did.
Slowly, torturously so, his tongue began to trace the length of her spine, tickling the small of her back and the tops of her cheeks. His finger on her clit was still working magical little circles, and it was all she could do to not grind her body down into his palm. Then, suddenly, that tongue dipped farther down, between the globes of her ass. She clenched on instinct. Nobody, no man had ever put his tongue on her there before.

“Relax,” he purred, his voice an erotic buzz against her heated skin. “Carte blanche, remember? Just take.”


Tuesday, 24 July 2018

#Excerpt #NSFW #Secretbaby #stepromance Only 5 more days until Quick & Reckless releases. Book 3 of the Quick Billionaires Series




Coming July 29th to Amazon and KU

BRAND NEW BILLIONAIRE, SECRET BABY, STEP ROMANCE.



Quick & Reckless

Book 3, A Quick Billionaires Novel
A steamy secret baby, step romance.

Sometimes being reckless can be a step in the right direction. 

Abandoned at the altar, humiliated in front of everyone she knows, Silver Belle (save the stripper jokes, she’s heard them all), flees her wedding determined to erase her ex-fiance from her memory. There’s a soul-mate for everyone? What a joke: there’s obviously none for her. She’s done with love. Done with doing the right thing. So when she meets Warren McAllister, a heart-stopping, drool-worthy Australian, she throws caution—and propriety to the wind—and makes him an outrageous proposal.

Warren’s always up for a challenge, so when a beautiful stranger in a poufy white dress dares him to join her for a weekend of passion to erase her past, he’s more than willing to sign up. Sex is just sex, after all. Only saying goodbye is harder than he expected, and he can’t seem to forget her, even after heading back to Tahiti for work. So when he returns a year later for his mother’s wedding, he’s excited to see Silver, ready for another tryst—and possibly even more.

Though their fling only lasted three days, Warren changed Silver, helped her, healed her. And he captured her heart. However, now she has secrets. Big “baby-sized” secrets that could destroy any possibility of a future together. She can only hope Warren will forgive her.








Excerpt


“Warren … ” she sang.
He put the phone back and ran, actually ran the short distance to the bathroom. But he stopped himself just before she could see him, set his lips into a cocky smirk and then casually rounded the corner.
Well, fuck me. Tonight is going to be a hell of a lot harder than I thought.
His dick throbbed painfully against his pelvic bone.
She was exquisite. Lying there in the bubbles, her hair still pinned up, exposing that luscious neck, her breasts bobbing all soapy in the water. He’d never seen anything so fucking beautiful in his life.
“You rang, m’lady?” he said jokingly. “More peeled grapes? Perhaps a palm frond to fan you with?”
Her eyes drifted up to his from where she’d been staring into the bubbles. “My night you said? My night to take? To get whatever I want?”
His throat bobbed. Where was she going with this? “That’s what I said. That’s what you asked for.”
“Then what I want is for you to get into this tub with me.”
Fuck, she was something.
One sculpted eyebrow lifted on her forehead. “Now.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice. His jeans were off and his shirt tossed to the floor in less than thirty seconds. Then he just stood there, hard as fuck, naked as fuck and waiting for her to tell him to get into the water and what to do. He’d never been a submissive before. Never submitted in life, let alone the bedroom, but something about Silver told him she needed this right now. She needed the control. And she’d told him flat out that she wanted to take without guilt. He could give her that.
Her eyes were pinned to his cock. Without lifting her gaze, she ordered him to get in.
He stepped up the tile stairs and then swung his leg over the side. It wasn’t the most graceful entry, but he wasn’t sure there was one. She leaned forward, encouraging him to slip behind her.
Oh, for fuck’s sake. His cock nestled right next to her ass. He had willpower, lots of it, and he was a gentleman, but having those perfect little round mounds knocking his already pulsing dick was going to be absolute torture.
But he did as she wanted and slipped in behind her silky frame. She was small. Smaller than he remembered. The big, poufy Q-tip dress had made her seem so much bigger. But yet now, here, in his arms, she seemed almost doll-like. Long limbs, narrow waist, curvy hips. She was fucking perfect.
With a breathy and feminine sigh, she collapsed her back against his chest. He couldn’t stop himself, and he smelled her hair. Fuck, even that smelled incredible.
“What do you do for work, Warren?” she asked, breaking the silence and startling him.
“You first.”
“I’m a kindergarten teacher.”
Well, if that didn’t make her all the more adorable and sexy. He could just picture her in jeans and a blouse with finger paint on her cheek as she and twenty kids held hands and sang “The Wheels on the Bus” or something.
“You like kids, then?”
“Love them. You?”
“I’ve got nieces and a nephew I like. And my other brother just told me his wife is pregnant.”

“But you don’t want your own?”




Friday, 20 July 2018

#FirstChapterFriday: RIP CORD by USAT Bestselling Author Jeanne St. James #Gay #Sports #Romance



Rip Cord: The Complete Trilogy

By USAT Bestselling Author Jeanne St. James

Genre: M/M Sports Romance, LGBTQ

Available on Amazon and FREE in Kindle Unlimited: https://amzn.to/2IqJowi


From Seriously Reviewed:

"Well, I sat down to read and burned dinner! I couldn't stop reading...  This is hot gay erotic romance. So when boy sees hot football star, boy lusts for football star, and holy shit, the football star has game of his own. The sex was raw and brazen, the dialog refreshingly natural and the ending pleasantly simple and satisfying."


Blurb:

The Reunion:
Gil Davis hated high school. Ever the geek, he has no intentions of attending his 10th year class reunion. The last thing he wants is to relive the taunting and teasing he received during his teenage years. However, there is one thing he misses from high school: the star Varsity football player. The one he had a crush on from the first day he laid eyes on him. But the last thing he expects is the now pro football player to come back to their home town to attend a lame high school reunion. Known as the Bad Boy of the NFL, Ripley “Rip” Cord, not only shows up, but shows up without a date and an eye for Gil.

The Weekend:
Geek Gil Davis hasn’t heard a word from NFL player, Rip Cord, since hooking up at their class reunion. Then Rip calls him unexpectedly, he’s taking Gil to his cabin for a weekend of erotic exploration.

The Ever After:
When Rip Cord is kicked out of the NFL, he shows up unexpectedly at Gil Davis’ front door. With his career over, Rip’s finally ready for a future with Gil, if Gil’s willing to give him another chance.

Chapter One


Gil Davis couldn’t believe it had been ten years since he’d last walked through these doors. Where had the time gone?
When the invitation to his class reunion had come, he’d almost tossed it out, just as he had with the notice of his five-year reunion.
He was not into reliving his high school years.
No way, no how.
But something on the invitation had caught his eye. This time they were holding it at the school. So instead of immediately pitching it, he had thrown the invitation on his kitchen table. Unfortunately Katie, his best friend and roommate, found it and hounded him relentlessly until he agreed to RSVP.
And, of course, Katie insisted on being his date.
Which thrilled him to no end…not.
Now he wasn’t so sure if he wanted to go in.
He wasn’t sure he was ready for a night of teasing from his former schoolmates.
Yet, here he stood, just inside the double doors of his old high school, staring at the registration table by the gymnasium doors.
Someone grabbed his elbow. Firmly.
“You’re not chickening out, are you?”
Gil shook his head and swallowed hard. “Did you find the restroom all right?”
“Fine,” Katie said in her little no-nonsense tone. “Let’s go.”
The harder she tugged on his arm, the more he dug in his heels. He didn’t want to leave his little corner of safety yet. “Hold on.”
“No, Gil. It’s not going to get any easier. You look fine. We’ve—okay, I’ve worked really hard to get you to this point.” She smoothed the hair back from his eyes. Gil was surprised she hadn’t spit on her fingers first like a hovering mother hen.
The problem was, he was still a nerd at heart.
“Now, get your shit together and let’s go!” She gave his arm one last hard yank and dragged him over to the table.
Sucking in a breath, he steeled himself for what was to come.
The two women sitting at the table wore big predatory smiles.
“Gilbert? Gilbert Davis, is that you?” the toothy piranha on the right asked. “I swear I didn’t recognize you without your bottle-bottom glasses and pocket protector.”
Those glasses were long gone, thanks to Katie forcing him to the optometrist for contacts years ago.
Gil leaned forward to read her name tag. Bonnie (Trusk) Smith.
Bonnie Trusk. He remembered her. She had been part of the homecoming court their senior year.
And had accidentally run over his foot one day in the parking lot with her father’s Ford Expedition. Why? Her excuse had been she hadn’t seen him. Yeah, he had been the invisible man, “invisible” to all the popular kids.
“Just Gil,” he corrected her.
She laughed and waved a hand toward him, clearly dismissing him.
The other woman, Patti Petroski-Harrison, shoved a Hello! My name is… Gilbert Davis sticker at him. “And your hair! It looks…” Gil expected the next word out of her mouth to be normal. Her face showed her internal struggle. “Nice.”
He was a geek. He knew it. He had been one ever since he could remember. And his classmates had always teased him about it.
She sized up Katie. “Are you his wife?”
Katie laughed and patted Gil’s arm. “Oh no.”
Gil shot her a quick warning look.
Katie gave him a sugary smile and a noisy kiss on the cheek.
“Well then,” Patti said. “When you go through the doors, Gilbert, there will be a table with place settings. Find your name, and that will tell you where you’re seated.”
“Just Gil,” he corrected again, but by then both women were flashing their beaming smiles at another couple who had come up behind them.
Katie tugged him to the side to avoid being crushed by the new arrivals’ hugging and squealing. Gil didn’t recognize the newcomers. But then they had probably been a part of the “in” group.
Gil had been a full-fledged member of the “out” group, but not the “out of the closet” group.
A woman’s shrill scream shot a bolt of pain through his head.
“Did you hear Rip Cord is going to be here? Can you believe it?” Patti asked, her question ending in a squeal. She looked as if she would bust a vein.
Gil stumbled back a step from the table, barely avoiding Katie’s toes.
Holy hell, he never should have agreed to come to this thing. Especially if he’d known Rip would be here.
Gil had a crush on Rip since high school. Unfortunately, Rip was definitely of the heterosexual persuasion. Being captain of the football team, he’d had every girl in school chasing after him, one way or another.
So Gil had admired the well-built, handsome jock from afar. Very afar.
Hearing Rip’s name brought all those old feelings back to the surface.
All the insecurities.
Gil certainly had never expected his secret crush to come back to town for a ten-year class reunion. Rip had become way too famous for that.
Gil grabbed Katie’s arm and, with her squeaky protest, dragged her through the double doors into the gym.
“Jesus, Gil. What’s going on?” she asked as he pushed her against the wall just inside the doors.
“Did you hear that?” He struggled not to hyperventilate.
“What?” Katie peeled the backing off Gil’s name tag and slapped it onto his chest. Not so gently either.
“Rip’s going to be here.”
“Rip?” She wrinkled her nose. “What the hell is rip?”
“Not what. Who!” Gil swallowed hard and blew out a long breath. He realized then he was squeezing her upper arms. Way too hard. He relaxed his fingers.
“Okay, okay. Calm down. And let up a little more, please.”
He released her and wiped his sweaty palms along his slacks. He never should have worn slacks. Slacks were nerd wear.
Why didn’t Katie talk him out of wearing them? He should have worn torn jeans or leather pants or—
“So, is Rip a band? I would’ve thought they just would’ve hired a DJ. It’s cheaper.”
“Wait. What?” Gil shook his head. “First of all, why would they need music?”
Katie pointed a finger upward. “Hear that, nerd-o? Music. You know, it creates atmosphere and gives you something to dance to.”
“Dance?” Gil swallowed hard. He cocked his head. He did hear music. He hadn’t noticed it because he’d been too panicked about Rip being there. “Okay, just don’t ask me to dance.”
“No can do, Gilly. We will be dancing. I didn’t come along to be a wallflower.”
“Katie, you know I can’t dance,” he hissed, inches from her face.
She had the nerve to laugh. As if his lack of rhythm was something to laugh about. His coordination left something to be desired. Gil considered it a handicap—maybe not one recognized by the government. But no one should make fun of the handicapped!
Gil frowned. “I didn’t see anything on the invitation about dancing.”
Katie sighed. “Gilly, don’t worry, we’ll fake it.”
“Don’t call me Gilly here. It’s bad enough people will be calling me Gilbert.”
“Okay, Gil. So if Rip isn’t a band, then who or what is it?”
A low murmur throughout the room behind him caused Gil to look up. Coming through the doors…
Gil pressed a hand to the wall to steady himself. His legs had suddenly lost all strength.
Coming through the doors was…
“Him,” was all Gil could get past the lump in his throat.
“Him?” Katie turned the direction Gil was staring, and her mouth made a little O.
Gil had expected Rip to walk in with a tall, leggy blonde on his arm—one who was enhanced in various places. He hadn’t expected Rip to come… alone?
Ripley “Rip” Cord was just as tall as Gil remembered. Around five inches taller than him, not that Gil was a squirt. The football player was at least six foot two.
And every inch of him was muscle. Not lean muscle, but heavy muscle. Heavy, rounded, lickable muscle.
Gil glanced at Katie. “You’re drooling.”
Katie wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “As if you aren’t.”
Gil snagged her wrist and backpedaled until he rammed into something hard. It was the table with the place settings.
Gil peered over Katie’s shoulder to see if his klutziness had caught Rip’s attention.
Luckily it hadn’t. The man was completely surrounded by their former classmates clamoring for his attention.
Throughout the years, he’d followed Rip’s career on the Internet, on the evening news, on ESPN.
And in the tabloids. The kind you find at the grocery store checkout.
Rip was well-known. Unfortunately, it was as the “bad boy” of the National Football League. He started out with a great career in the NFL, drafted straight out of college. He was one of the best wide receivers in the league, but it was all his rumored problems that kept him in the spotlight, not his stats.
And that famous wide receiver was here. Now.
“C’mon, Katie! Don’t stare.”
“Why?”
“Because—”
“Jesus, Gilly, because you have a crush on him!”
Heat crawled up Gil’s neck. He was glad the lights were turned down in the gymnasium. He didn’t want anyone seeing him blush.
Hell, he was twenty-eight years old. He shouldn’t be blushing. He suddenly felt seventeen all over again.
He pulled away from Katie to study the name cards remaining on the table. Of course, he read the same card over and over before Katie squealed.
Oh. My. God. Here he comes!”
Gil nervously tugged Katie next to his side and threw an arm haphazardly around her shoulders.
“Ouch,” she yelped as her curly red hair got caught on the button of his cuff.
“Sorry,” he whispered and straightened up just as Rip arrived at the table.
Gil swore he saw spots. He was not going to faint. He was not going to faint.
His knees buckled, and he grabbed for the nearest solid thing.
Rip.
Rip grasped his forearm and held Gil steady. “You all right, buddy?”
Gil looked up—and up—into deep blue eyes. Eyes he had never forgotten. To this day they haunted his dreams.
Dreams he usually woke up from with a raging hard-on.
Gil opened his mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Rip smacked him hard on the back.
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
Gil nodded.
“Did you find your name card yet?” Rip asked, flashing him a bright, white smile.
Gil shook his head.
Rip moved closer, almost hip to hip with Gil, to study the table of white folded cardstock. Gil fought the urge to lean in and nuzzle the larger man's neck, inhaling his manly scent. Roll around in it like a dog.
Hell, he'd probably end up sporting a black eye if he tried.
Even so, Rip’s large hands, his long fingers, fascinated Gil as he reached out to snag a card off the table.
“Here you are.” He lifted Gil’s hand, cupping it from the bottom.
Gil could feel the rough, calloused palm against his knuckles. A thrill ran down his spine as Rip tucked the tented name card into his curled fingers.
Rip remembered his name? He must have if he had picked Gil’s name out from the place settings.
Gil quickly glanced down at his own chest. Crap. He’d probably read his Hello. My name is… sticker.
Rip’s deep voice broke into his thoughts. “I’ve dreamed of you, Gilbert.”
Gil looked up at him in shock. “What?”
“I said, I remember you, Gilbert. Don’t look so surprised.”
“G-Gil.”
Rip lifted one brow. “Again?”
“He goes by Gil now,” Katie butted in. “I’m Katie.” She held out her hand.
Instead of shaking it, Rip lifted it and brushed his lips over her knuckles.
“Oh, a gentleman, huh? Hard to find these days.”
“Hardly.” Rip laughed, then pinned Gil with a stare. “Is she your girl?”
Gil’s gaze flicked to Katie, who stood entranced, staring at Rip. He knew the feeling.
Rip had a strong square jaw, currently covered in a super-short beard since it wasn’t game season. He sported shoulder-length dirty-blond hair with sun-kissed highlights due to the time he spent outdoors.
His long legs were encased in black jeans, which sinfully hugged the muscles they covered. He had on a tight black T-shirt under an equally black but very worn leather jacket. A biker jacket, not a designer jacket. Heavy leather with rivets, sporting buckles and zippers.
He looked bad. So bad, he looked good.
Even so, Gil couldn’t help thinking it was way too warm out for a leather jacket.
“Where are you sitting?” Katie piped in, tearing Rip’s attention away from Gil and onto her.
Damn. Rip had always liked the ladies, and it seemed to be no different now.
Gil quickly scanned the table and found Rip’s name card. Table 15. He looked at his own. Table 13.
Hell. Unlucky thirteen. He couldn’t be lucky enough to be sitting with the NFL star. He was sure whoever organized the reunion had Rip sitting with the popular crowd—or at least the former jocks from high school.
“With you guys.” Rip plucked his place card off the table. “Have a pen?”
What the hell? Was Rip going to be hitting on Katie all night? Gil didn’t know if he could sit there and watch that.
“Don’t you wear a pocket protector anymore?” Rip asked him, running a finger over his shirt pocket. Gil’s nipples hardened instantly, and he bit back a gasp.
“N-no,” Gil stuttered. Katie had forbidden them. Even at work.
“Here. I have one.” Katie handed Rip a pen she extracted from her purse.
Rip gave her a smile in thanks and used the pen to scribble out the 13 on Gil’s name card. He replaced it with the number 15.
He handed the pen back to Katie and the name card back to Gil, the pads of his fingers lingering on Gil’s palm.
Gil fisted his hand, still feeling the tingling sensation left behind.
He had to get a grip.
Rip was a football player. A man’s man.
Too bad he wasn’t Gil’s man.

About the Author:


JEANNE ST. JAMES is a USA Today bestselling erotic romance author who loves an alpha male (or two). She was only thirteen when she started writing. Her first paid published piece was an erotic story in Playgirl magazine. Her first erotic romance novel, Banged Up, was published in 2009. She is happily owned by farting French bulldogs. She writes M/F, M/M, and M/M/F ménages. Want to read a sample of her work? Download a sampler book here: BookHip.com/MTQQKK

To keep up with her busy release schedule check her website at www.jeannestjames.com or sign up for her newsletter: http://www.jeannestjames.com/newslettersignup

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