Excerpt Reveal: Worship Me (Men of Inked #7) by Chelle Bliss

From USA Today bestselling author, Chelle Bliss, comes the seventh book in the Men of Inked series. James and Izzy return on May 9th and they’re hotter than ever. Don’t miss the next installment in the Men of Inked series.

James Caldo needs to control everything in his life, even his wife, Izzy Gallo. But she’s headstrong and has a need to test her husband’s limits as much as he pushes hers.

When a case at ALFA Private Investigation takes a dark turn, James is forced to get Izzy involved in an undercover sting, and the assignment will test her sexual boundaries as well as the very foundation of their relationship.

Can Izzy hold her tongue long enough to keep them both safe? Or will her unwillingness to fully submit draw the eye of the very man they’re after?

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EXCERPT

“Izzy, please. Be reasonable.”

I loved when James begged. “Say it again,” I taunted him.

What the fuck with the be reasonable comment? I’m always reasonable. Okay, maybe that isn’t entirely true. I usually shoot from the hip and save the apologies for later. My big mouth has gotten me into more trouble over the years, and much of it I try to forget, especially when it comes to James.

He arched an eyebrow, and the same shitty smirk that I’d grown accustomed to flashed across his lips. “I could make you say yes.­”

“Doubtful.” I glared at him, feeling supercocky even though I was in no position to be.

James, my loving husband of over ten years, decided that tonight was a good time to tie me to the bed. I should’ve known he was up to no good because it’d been more than a little bit since he’d used restraints during sex. I figured we were just getting our kink on and that he wanted to try something new, but nope, the bastard knew I wouldn’t like what he was asking and made sure I didn’t have an out.

“Baby,” he whispered, running his thumbs across my bottom lip and trying to seduce me. “You know you can’t say no to me. Never have and never will.”

There were very few people in this world that could make me do anything, but James had a power over me since the first night I met him. Saying no to him had always been damn near impossible, and I almost hated myself because of it.

I never wanted to be that girl—the one who caved to anything her husband asked. Never in my life had I wanted to be her, an easy mark and a carpet for her husband to walk all over, but things don’t always turn out the way we plan. I learned that the hard way.

James wasn’t even on my radar until the night of Joe and Suzy’s wedding when he sauntered in with his good looks and charm. The arrogant bastard seemed to work me like he’d known me my entire life, and I fell for it.

I thought I’d won when I snuck out. I figured I’d never see him again, so what did it matter. Boy, was I wrong.

“I’ve said no to you plenty of times.” I refused to let him use his sexual prowess, which I’d done in the past, but sometimes I had to dig my heels in and find my inner bitch.

I pulled at the restraints and tried to break free, but it was useless. The man could tie the most wicked knots, and it had been years since I’d been able to wiggle out of them. Every time I escaped, he’d learn a new technique until he found just the right one to render me helpless.

His lips scorched a path down my neck, and my back arched as if begging for his touch. “Say yes, Izzy.”

I stifled the moan that formed low in my throat, but I squeaked instead when he sucked my nipple into his mouth. My body rocked on its own, moving toward him instinctively, wanting the bite of his teeth. His hand slid down my front, cupping my pussy, not hard enough to give me pleasure, only the sweet torment that he reveled in.

“Say yes, and I’ll give you what you want.”

He was playing with me. James was a master manipulator. I didn’t know if it was his background with the DEA or just something he was born with, but he used it perfectly when it suited his purpose.

I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth together. “No.”

He pulled my panties to the side before dipping two fingers inside me with the most sinful smile. “Last chance, baby,” he warned.

What was he going to do to me if I didn’t give in? The thought passed through my mind, but I pushed it away. I was lost in the feel of his hands on my skin and the ache between my legs, but my resistance held. “No,” I bit out.

Don’t forget to catch up with the Men of Inked series today and be ready for Worship Me on May 9th!

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Chelle Bliss is the USA Today bestselling author of the Men of Inked and ALFA P.I. series. She hails from the Midwest, but currently lives near the beach even though she hates sand. She’s a full-time writer, time-waster extraordinaire, social media addict, coffee fiend, and ex high school history teacher. She loves spending time with her two cats, alpha boyfriend, and chatting with readers. To learn more about Chelle, please visit chellebliss.com.

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Excerpt Reveal: The Devil’s Spawn by Gemma James

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If you love dark books, you’re going to flip over the excerpt of The Devil’s Spawn!

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Blurb:

Kayla Sutton has finally submitted.

And now that Gage has his wife firmly under his control again, he won’t stop until he’s extracted every last independent drop from her being.

As each day passes she learns new ways to accept his dominion. After all, she has a lot to atone for. Flirting with disaster with her ex-lover turned brother-in-law might be forgivable, but it’s not so easily forgotten. And neither is the secret she’s carrying inside her.

If there’s one thing Kayla has learned it’s that skeletons don’t just come out of the closet; they bust through with the power of a locomotive, destroying everything in their path.

For the sake of her unborn child, Kayla must find a way to clear out of the path of destruction even if it means leaving everything behind.

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EXCERPT:

“It really boils down to one thing,” Simone said. “Do you trust him?”

She made it sound so easy, but as I examined my feelings and tore apart his words, dissected his actions, I realized that I did. Mostly. There were plenty of things not to trust him about—anytime he came near me with his cock at the ready and a belt or whip in his fist, for instance—but on a fundamental level, I did trust him.

If I didn’t, why would I keep putting myself through this? Why keep bending and bending and bending?

“I do trust him,” I said, swiping my bangs to the side. “I love him. More than I could ever say. More than even makes sense.”

“Then I’d put the baby mama out of your head. He married you, and though I won’t begin to understand or approve of your…weird relationship, he has always come across as pretty fucking whipped.”

I almost spluttered my tea all over the table at her words. Gage, whipped? But the more I thought about it, the more it clicked, because when you got down to the nitty-gritty, we had each other wrapped. “I guess you’re right. I just wish I could get that woman out of my head. The way she touches him, and the way she glares at me…God, Simone, she makes me see red and green at the same time.”

“You need a fucking hobby.” Simone’s mouth twisted into a scowl, but her gaze softened as she said it to take out some of the sting.

“A hobby?” I asked, absently picking at my half-eaten quiche. Apparently, the subject of Katherine made me lose my appetite. Or maybe it was the smell of overcooked cheese. I pushed the plate away, scrunching my nose. “Why do you say that?”

Simone made a scoffing sound, and I glanced up to find her reclined in her seat, arms crossed. “To hear you talk, it sounds like your whole life revolves around Gage and what he may or may not be doing with Katherine.”

A hobby might not be a bad idea. Maybe I could start collecting trinkets, like dolphins or dragons.

Or elephants.

Definitely elephants. Lord knew I had plenty of those in my life. Gigantic ones that ate up too much space and sucked up all the air. One stood between Gage and me in the form of Katherine. But the biggest one sat smack in the middle of Simone and me.

This elephant’s name was Ian, and he’d grown too secure in his comfy spot since that damn note had magically appeared on my door. But it was easier, safer, to focus on my marriage and the interloper named Katherine. The subject of Ian was too dangerous. Too painful.

Simone must have agreed because she didn’t bring him up once.

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Start the series today – the first book is FREE

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About the Author:

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Gemma James is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling author of a blend of genres, from new adult suspense to dark erotic romance. She loves to explore the darker side of human nature in her fiction, and she’s morbidly curious about anything dark and edgy, from deviant sex to serial killers. Readers have described her stories as being “not for the faint of heart.”

She warns you to heed their words! Her playground isn’t full of rainbows and kittens, though she likes both. She lives in Oregon with her husband and their four children–three rambunctious UFC/wrestling-loving boys and one girl who steals everyone’s attention.

Connect with Gemma:

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Preppy by TM Frazier – Excerpt Reveal

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PROLOGUE

PRESENT

PREPPY

Tiny flashes of dim light spark in the darkened corners of my mind. Slowly, it turns from dusk to dawn, awakening my thoughts as the inner light grows brighter and brighter.

I hear a sound, a faucet running, and I realize it’s the blood rushing through my ears. When it reaches my heart I choke as it comes back to life like a bass drum. Boom. BaBOOM it beats, on and on, until it falls into a quick yet steady rhythm. The new life inside me grows louder, stronger, until death fades away and I awake on a gasp.

My eyes spring open. I try to take in air, but nothing happens. I try again and my lungs burn as they finally decide to cooperate. I can breathe, but it hurts like a son of a bitch.

I’m fucking alive.

My first thoughts shock the shit out of me. They’re of a girl. A sad looking girl with shiny black hair and huge dark eyes sitting on the edge of the water tower.

My heart falls out of rhythm, beating faster and faster until it’s thrumming against my chest like the vibration of a jackhammer.

Her.

Although my vision is blurry as shit, my thoughts of her are clearer than they’d ever been, and for the first time in my adult life, I’m fucking scared.

I don’t even need to see the big motherfucker standing over me with a baseball bat to know I am completely and totally fucked.

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Love. Never. Dies.
Find out why in Preppy by T.M. Frazier
releases on October 25th.

Pre-order your copy at the following retailers:

Amazon US | UK | iBooks | Nook | Kobo

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Blurb

Samuel Clearwater, A.K.A Preppy, likes bowties, pancakes, suspenders, good friends, good times, good drugs, and a good f*ck.

He’s worked his way out from beneath a hellish childhood and is living the life he’s always imagined for himself. When he meets a girl, a junkie on the verge of ending it all, he’s torn between his feelings for her and the crippling fear that she could be the one to end the life he loves.

Andrea ‘Dre’ Capulet is strung out and tired.

Tired of living for her next fix. Tired of doing things that make her stomach turn. Tired of looking in the mirror at the reflection of the person she’s become. Just when she decides to end it all, she meets a man who will change the course of both their lives forever.

And their deaths.

For most people, death is the end of their story.

For Preppy and Dre, death was only the beginning.

This is the fifth book in the King Series and it’s meant to be read after Soulless.

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About the Author:

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T.M. (Tracey Marie) Frazier resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and three feisty fur kids.

She attended Florida Gulf Coast University where she specialized in public speaking. After years working in real estate and new home construction, she decided it was finally time to stop pushing her dreams to the back burner and pursue writing seriously.

In the third grade she wrote her very first story about a lost hamster. It earned rave reviews from both her teacher and her parents.

It only took her twenty years to start the next one.

It will not be about hamsters.

Stalk Her: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and Goodreads.

 

Excerpt Reveal: Reaper’s Fire by Joanna Wylde

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Excerpt

Tinker

It was almost seven that evening when I felt the AC kick back on. I’d been lying on my back on the (relatively) cool tile floor behind the counter, staring up at the pressed-tin ceiling and trying to remember why I hadn’t already moved back to Seattle.

In Seattle it rained.

Cool breezes blew off the bay and the lush greenery covered everything with its shaded canopy. People didn’t really need air-conditioning, but if they happened to have it and it broke, there were lots of repair men available.

Of course, Seattle also had Brandon. Not only that, my dad didn’t want to move, and I’d come to realize I couldn’t leave him here alone. It wasn’t safe for him, not since Mom died.

Ugh.

At least the AC was working again, blowing down from the ceiling vent across my sweaty body, reminding me that while the world might not be crawling with perfect men, at least there were still a few useful ones running around. Cooper Romero was a keeper, and it had nothing to do with how sexy he was . . . although the fact that he was sex on a stick—make that sex with a stick—didn’t exactly diminish his appeal.

When I’d dragged him up to the black tar roof to show him the ancient AC, I’d expected him to make a run for it. Any sensible man would. Instead, he’d spent the whole afternoon busting his ass to save my chocolates—Oh God, I wish that were code for something more exciting—officially qualifying him as a superhero in my book.

As for me, there wasn’t much I could do once I got all the sweets safely downstairs into the basement. There weren’t any customers walking in off the street, and seeing as I couldn’t make or ship candy in a 102-degree shop, I’d alternated between attempting to read a book, looking over orders I couldn’t fulfill on my laptop, and bringing Cooper glasses of iced tea. I’d been nervous around him at first, but you can only stay nervous for so long when you’re sweating like a pig—there’s a certain freedom in knowing you look like hell and there’s no saving your hair. I’d thrown my arm across my eyes in a pathetic attempt to block out reality toward the end.

When cold air started flowing into the room, I could’ve cried with relief. He’d never had a chance to fill out the application form, and I’d long since decided it didn’t matter. Unless he was an ax murderer, I’d give him the apartment and the job.

Might give it to him even if he was, to be honest.

“It’s working again,” Cooper announced, and I jerked, startled. Shit, had I fallen asleep? Opening my eyes, I looked up to find him standing over me. Dear God in heaven—that was one hell of a bare chest.

Holy. Shit.

I’d taken note of his build when he first walked in the shop, but everything under his shirt had been theoretical. Now there was six-foot-plus of raw sex appeal right there, all sweaty and sculpted and . . . well, let’s just say I’d be stopping off on the way home to pick up some fresh batteries.

That’s when the situation hit me—Cooper Romero was the hottest man I’d met in forever, and he’d just found me lying on the floor in my own sweat and filth like a dog. Typical luck. I scrambled to my feet, pretending I wasn’t totally embarrassed (I was) and not in the least bit freaked out by how unspeakably attractive this guy was. Okay, “attractive” wasn’t quite the right word, because it implied a certain level of polish and class that just didn’t fit Cooper at all.

Brandon was attractive.

Cooper?

I’d lick him all over and massage his butt if he asked. He stared down at me, his eyes carefully blank, making it very clear he wasn’t asking. Story of my fucking life. Sitting up, I pushed myself to my feet without bothering to dust off. Lost cause at this point.

“Not sure how much life the AC has left,” he said slowly. “I managed to get it going, but fixing it right would cost more than it’s worth and then some.”

Of course it would.

“I just need to get through the summer,” I told him, wiping a finger under my eye. My perfectly applied, vintage-style makeup had melted, leaving me with a clown face. Fortunately I’d (mostly) given up on caring three hours ago, right around the time I’d discovered the floor tiles were cooler than the rest of the room. “After that, I’ll worry about the furnace and by next summer I might not even be here anymore.”

“Really?” he asked, cocking a brow. “You selling out?”

“Not sure,” I told him. “I’m not thinking that far ahead right now. Things are very iffy with my dad . . . I think he’s got some—”

No. I couldn’t say it. Saying it out loud made it too real, plus the last thing I needed were a bunch of rumors flying around town. So far we’d kept dad’s situation mostly to family and friends.

“Tinker?”

Shaking myself, I smiled at him. “Thank you so much for fixing that. I’m not even sure what I would’ve done—I can’t afford to miss a week’s worth of orders. Not only would it put me behind, it would burn my customers.”

He nodded, studying me thoughtfully. God, he really was beautiful . . . Nothing like Brandon’s polished sophistication. No, Cooper gave off more of a warrior-tossing-you-over-his-fearless-steed kind of vibe. Yeah, like that would end well, because my track record with men was so fucking perfect, right?

Pull your head out of the gutter. He probably has a girlfriend.

At least I could finally lock up this hellhole of a shop and get a shower.

“Thank you so much—you have no idea how much I appreciate it.”

“No, but the whole throwing yourself at my feet thing was a subtle hint,” he said, and I realized he was teasing me. Was he flirting? I couldn’t decide if that kicked ass or scared the shit out of me.

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” I told him, feeling suddenly awkward. “I’m going to grab some dinner down the street, and then I could take you over and show you the apartment.”

A small, knowing smile crossed his face, and I realized he thought I was hitting on him.

“No,” I said quickly, mortified. “I wasn’t asking you out. Omigod, this is weird.”

“What, you aren’t turned on by a man who smells like old socks?” he asked lightly, raising his arm and giving a sniff. He was joking, but the sweat wasn’t a turnoff. Nope. Not even a little bit. “If that’s not enough for you, the roof tar on my ass should be a big attraction.”

Closing my eyes, I bit back a groan. He started laughing. Not in a cruel way, but companionably, which I guess made sense because both of us were disgusting as hell. Of course, now I wanted to check out his ass, but I managed to keep my eyes on target (mostly) when I answered him.

“Well, it’s sexy but I’ll manage to control myself somehow. I do want to grab dinner, though, and we need to figure out the apartment details.”

“I’ll take the place, doesn’t matter what it is,” he replied. “I’m in a hotel and it’s getting old. I’d love to move in on Sunday, but I can’t go look at it right now—gotta get my ass cleaned up. Meeting up with someone later.”

Of course he was, because men who looked like Cooper didn’t spend Friday nights alone.

“Sounds great,” I told him, refusing to show any disappointment. “Just text me when you’re ready, and I’ll get you the key.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but a sudden pounding against the locked shop door caught us both off guard. I spun around to find Talia Jackson glaring at me through the glass. Talia and three of her skankier friends, including Sadie Baxter, a girl I used to babysit when I was in college.

A girl who was now twenty.

Damn.

“Cooper!” Talia shouted. “What the fuck are you doing?”

I glanced at my new handyman, startled. Talia Jackson and her brother, Marsh, were two of the nastiest people I’d ever met. Marsh was president of the local motorcycle gang, a group called the Nighthawk Raiders motorcycle club. The club had been around most of my life, but it was only in recent years that they’d turned really bad. I mean, they were never the kinder, gentler sort of bikers, but I’d never been actively afraid when I’d heard a motorcycle, either.

Now? Let’s just say we’d all gotten a little edgy.

“That’s my girl,” Cooper said, and something deep down inside of me died a little. Of course he’d go for someone like Talia. She might have the heart of a deranged circus clown—you know, the kind that survives by eating the souls of innocent children—but she was hot.

Really hot.

Not only that, she was slutty, and while I wasn’t into the whole slut-shaming thing (like I had room to judge after the bachelorette party debacle . . . ugh), I wasn’t naive enough to think he was attracted to her personality. Cooper Romero might have a sweet smile, and he’d fixed my AC, but now I had proof positive that he’d never be into a girl like me.

Specifically, a grown-up with curves.

All righty, then. Probably for the best anyway.

“Just a sec!” I called to her, determined to take the high road, then I grabbed my keys so I could open the door. She pushed inside with her posse, and I do mean pushed. Little bitch shoved me so hard I nearly knocked over the display of antique Russian teacups my mother had lovingly collected. (So far as I knew, she’d never sold a single one of them, but it’d made her happy.)

“Careful,” I warned, and Talia turned on me.

“What did you just say to me?”

“Babe, let’s talk,” Cooper said, catching her arm and pulling her into his body. She squealed, going from aggressive to flirty in an instant.

“You’re all sweaty. It’s sooo disgusting.”

I noted she wasn’t trying to get away. Cooper smiled down at her, a hint of something feral in his eyes. Yeah, okay—whatever smile he’d been giving me, it hadn’t held any of that kind of intensity.

Yours truly was officially chopped liver.

“I was just about to head out and grab a shower,” he told her. “Wanna come with me?”

She pouted. “I can’t. The girls and I need to get fixed up. I’ll see you at the bar, though, right?”

He looked down at her, offering a sexy, indulgent smile. “Can’t wait.”

“Perfect,” she said, reaching around to grab his ass for a quick squeeze. Then she turned and strutted back out without a word to me, her gaggle of girls following like well-trained geese. Sadie gave a little finger wave on the way. The door closed behind them with a cheerful little jingle, and I wondered why the hell I even bothered with Hallies Falls.

I missed Seattle.

So what if it had Brandon? I could drown him in Lake Washington. Problem solved.

“Sorry about that—Talia is a little high-strung,” Cooper said.

“Oh, I know all about her,” I replied, hoping I didn’t sound as catty as I felt. Cooper didn’t seem to notice.

“I’m new to town, but she’s been showing me around,” Cooper continued, stepping over to stand in front of me, hands shoved deep in his front pockets. “I should get going.”

“Of course—don’t let me keep you. What time do you think you’ll be in touch tomorrow?”

“Afternoon work?”

“No problem. Looking forward to hearing from you.”

He nodded and pushed through the door, walking down the street without a second look back. I locked up behind him, wondering why all the hottest guys were douchebags. Not that Cooper had acted like a douche, but he had to be my age or older—late thirties—and Talia was the same age as Sadie. She was also a raging bitch. There was only one reason a man like him would date a girl like that, and it had nothing to do with personality or character.

Cooper Romero might be beautiful, but obviously he was shallow. Suppose it was too much to hope for a man who could fix an air conditioner and have a soul at the same time.

Pity

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Are you ready for Gage and Tinker’s story?

Reaper’s Fire releases on August 9th!

Amazon US | UK | iBooks | Nook | Kobo | Google Play

 

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Blurb

New York Times bestselling author Joanna Wylde returns to the “wild and raw”* world of the Reapers MC with the story of Gage and Tinker…

The club comes first.

I’ve lived by those words my whole life—assumed I’d die by them, too, and I never had a problem with that. My Reaper brothers took my back and I took theirs and it was enough. Then I met her. Tinker Garrett. She’s beautiful, she’s loyal, and she works so damned hard it scares me sometimes . . . She deserves a good man—one better than me. I can’t take her yet because the club still needs me. There’s another woman, another job, another fight just ahead.

Now she’ll learn I’ve been lying to her all along. None of it’s real. Not my name, not my job, not even the clothes I wear. She thinks I’m nice. She pretends we’re just friends, that I’ve still got a soul . . . Mine’s been dead for years. Now I’m on fire for this woman, and a man can only burn for so long before he destroys everything around him.

I’m coming for you, Tinker.

Soon.

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Have you heard?
Reaper’s Property by Joanna Wylde has a NEW COVER!

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Meet Horse & Marie for ONLY $3.99 (normally $7.99)

Author’s Note: This book was originally released through a small publisher in 2013. This independent edition has been lightly edited, and contains a bonus short, “Sticky Sweet” (originally published on the author’s website) and a Q&A with the author.

Amazon US | UK | iBooks | Nook | Kobo

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Joanna Wylde is a New York Times bestselling author and creator of the Reapers Motorcycle Club series. She currently lives in Idaho.
Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

 

✠EXCERPT REVEAL: Soulless by T.M. Frazier✠

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Excerpt

“I’ll deal with you when we get back to the house,” Bear snapped, his words loaded with so many different meanings I trembled with both fear and anticipation.

“You’re going to deal with me?” I asked. “How are you going to deal with me?” My attitude and confidence faded with each word until the last was merely a whisper.

“Yes, DEAL with you,” Bear warned, suddenly pausing to take in my appearance. Slowly, from top to bottom, like he’d only just realized I was standing there. His eyelids hung heavy over his sapphire blues as he licked my body with his eyes, drinking me in like he was thirsty.

No, not thirsty.

Hungry.

When he licked his lips I could have sworn he was about to eat me alive. I tingled all over. The awareness of him in such close proximity after so long washed over me.   Angry or not, my body didn’t care. I didn’t care. I wanted to reach out and touch his face, reassure him that he had no reason to be angry, but part of me liked that I could draw that kind of reaction from him. He came alive when he was pissed, and something inside me loved that he became this primal possessive beast out to remind me who it was I belonged to.

Bear clenched his jaw and the muscles in his neck tensed and strained. He looked as if he were ready to either kill or fuck.   All I knew was that, one way or another, I was about to de devoured.

I pressed my thighs together, trying to manage the pulsing between my legs, but the contact only ignited it further. Bear chuckled and glanced down to where my ankles were crossed. He closed the gap between us in two short strides, taking me off guard. I stumbled backward, tripping over a lose rock in the road. he reached out and roughly grabbed my arm before I could fall, pulling me flush into his hard chest. His warm skin radiated through my thin dress. I bit my lip, suppressing a moan. My legs grew weaker and weaker as he lowered his head, inching closer and closer, until I was sure his lips were going to meet mine, when without warning he released my arm and spun away. “Get in the fucking truck, Ti,” he called back to me.

I stood there, unable to move, and trying to catch my breath while he headed over to King’s truck like that moment never passed between us. When he noticed I wasn’t behind him he growled and stalked back over to me. He grabbed me by the waist, his fingers digging into my skin. He lifted me up, my short dress bunching up over my butt cheeks and slung me over his shoulder like I was a rolled up rug.

Wack.

He slapped my ass with his open palm. Hard. The bite of the smack stung where I was sure he’d left his mark. He tossed me into the truck with a caveman grunt and slammed the door behind me.

I was confused as all hell.

I was so angry.

I was also elated.

I was in lust so hard that I was in physical pain.

I was really fucking angry.

I was head over heels in love.

Motherfucker.

 

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Bear & Thia’s epic finale releases on February 23rd!

PRE-ORDER SOULLESS NOW!

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Haven’t read this series yet?

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About the Author:

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T.M. Frazier is a USA TODAY bestselling author. She resides in sunny Southwest Florida with her husband and young daughter. When she’s not writing she loves talking to her readers, country music, reading, and traveling. Her debut novel, The Dark Light of Day was published in September of 2013 and when she started writing it she intended for it to be a light beachy romance. Well…it has a beach in it!
Stalk Her: Website, Facebook, Twitter, Amazon, and Goodreads.