Hell on wheels meets
hell in high heels.
Bad boy mechanic Josh Stone likes to get his hands dirty any way
he can—the filthier, the better. Ever since his wife walked out on him and
their young son, he’s only had room in his heart for two loves: the kid and
Roped into playing his best buddy’s gay boyfriend during a
romance writers convention, the player meets the girl who’s gonna rock his
world. Leelee Songchild. Shy, bashful, beautiful Leelee who blushes at the drop
of a hat yet writes hardcore smut to rival Josh’s backlist of Penthouse
The only problem is his hands are tied. Josh can’t stab his old
friend/fake lover in the back even though all he wants to do is take luscious
Leelee to bed, and maybe, love her. When the truth comes out, all hell breaks
Too bad romance is just for books.
“I figured you for
more of Chili Peppers fan.” Her rosebud lips burst into a teasing smile.
“Chet Baker, old
school all the way, babe.” I leaned in those last few inches, licking the crest
of her mouth, snicking her with a gentle bite of teeth.
“That explains the
I tugged the brim
lower before angling in for another short pull on her lips.
Heat, sex, need
raced between us, speeded by the fuel of shared memories.
This is it. The feeling of being all
alone, together. It raced up my spine and pounded through my body, slamming
right into my heart. What my folks had, I’d only experienced with Leelee. The
night of the tango, in a roomful of people, we’d been intent on each other. She
was heaven in my arms and I wanted nothing more, no one else.
“You miss your
dad,” she said.
I flipped my hat
onto the bar. “All the damn time, darlin’. But I don’t want to miss you. Not
tomorrow, not the next day.”
She moved closer
to whisper, “And it explains the Dancing
with the Starsmoves. You really are a romantic.”
I never would’ve
thought so before her. Guiding her off the stool and between my legs, I
growled, “Only for you, babe.”
She shifted back a
couple steps, offering her hand. “Dance with me.”
“I think that’s my
line.” I brought her hand to my chest. Warm and soft, her hip filled my palm,
her skirt rustling between us. Leaning down, I nipped her shoulder, drinking
her body in.
it.” Her body aligned perfectly with mine.
“For All We Know”
began. There was nothing but the song and the sway of our bodies around the
emptied room. Bartenders watched, quieting their movements as they cleaned up
each other, we danced. Her hand skimmed up my back, mine slipped to her neck.
Our lips hovered but no kisses were taken.
Leelee’s cheek lay
against mine—her soft to my rough. “Sing to me?”
No candles, no one
else, my voice rumbled with the rich tones of old times. There was no fancy
footwork, only feeling. And she felt so fucking good in my arms.
The music ended
slowly. My hands snuck up her back, holding her against me, unwilling to let
Tellseries–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional
publishing boundaries beginning with In His
Command. Her latest endeavor, the Carolina Bad Boys series, is fun, hot, and southern-sexy.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started
out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry
without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for
paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school
to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie
has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza
Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html
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