He rejected her. She loathes him. Now they have to fool everyone and pretend they actually like each other.
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He rejected her. She loathes him. Now they have to fool everyone and pretend they actually like each other.
Tanner Harris has been busy shagging his way through the ladies of east London, but getting caught by the paparazzi buck-naked with his trouser snake in his hands means he’s sowed his last wild oat.
Dr. Belle Ryan once thought Tanner Harris was the perfect kind of bearded bad boy she needed to relieve a bit of stress after her intense job as a surgical fellow, but an icy cold rejection from London’s sluttiest footballer puts the two at each other’s throats.
Fate and a favour conspire to put Tanner and Belle back in each other’s paths and they’re forced to do a lot more than get along to save face and their careers.
Rage turns to passion and tempers run sizzling hot when they realise they aren’t just falling for each other—they’re jumping head first. And neither have the endurance to keep their hands to themselves.
I cheers my beer with hers and chug the rest down. I drop the bottle and begin swirling Indie around in a childish spin that sends us both flying in different directions and crashing to the ground. Hot, sweaty hands wrap around me and pull me to my feet.
“Thank you, Good Samaritan,” I slur, turning to face my gallant saviour.
When my eyes glance up and focus, I’m stunned by the bearded vision before me. “You look like a guy I know!”
He clutches his hands firmly around my waist and holds me to him. “You look like a girl I want to know.”
I laugh half-heartedly and try to pull away.
“Are you trying to leave me, lass?” he slurs into my ear.
I frown and my head bobbles. “How could I leave you, Jesus? You’re God’s son…You’re everywhere.” I throw my hands out wide to punctuate my “everywhere” and attempt to stumble away.
He grabs me again, this time his hands dipping lower to my arse. My good mood evaporates instantly. “Hey!” I shout. “Watch your fucking hands!”
I attempt to shove him away, but he feels like one of those doors that you push when you’re supposed to pull. He doesn’t budge. He leans in close and whispers in my ear, “I’d like to put my hands on your tight little—”
Right when I’m about ready to punch the wank stain in his vile mouth, I nearly fall over as a strange momentum spins me away. The man’s hands are no longer groping me. They are now pinned deftly behind his back by no other than—
“Tanner?” I utter with a gasp, my hands covering my mouth at the shock of the scene before me.
“Shove the fuck off, you disgusting prat, before I turn your wrist into a pretzel.” Tanner pushes him into a nearby table, and the man almost topples over but catches himself before scurrying away without a look back.
Blue, angry eyes swerve to me. “Ryan,” Tanner growls, slicing a hand through his hair to get it off of his face. “I’ve texted you like twenty times.”
“I…I…I haven’t looked at my mobile in a while.”
“No fucking shit.” His bearded jaw is taut with anger. “I’m taking you home.”
He reaches out for my arm but I yank it away from him.
“No, you’re not.”
His shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. “I’m taking you home. You’re completely pissed.”
My eyes narrow. “Of course I am. It’s Tequila Sunrise night.”
“I don’t give a fuck,” he snaps. “Let’s go.”
I shoot him a murderous look when a voice interrupts us. “I’ve got mine. You got yours?” I turn to see Camden holding a sleepy-looking Indie against his body.
Determination slices through Tanner’s voice. “I’ve got her.”
I turn to face him, stumbling a bit as I wag my finger in his face. “Hey, I am not yours!” Suddenly, Tanner bends over and I’m airborne for a second, landing heavily on top of his shoulder. “Are you fucking kidding me, Harris?” I begin pounding on his back but it’s to no avail. “I’m in a dress. My arse is hanging out for all of England!”
“Your arse was hanging out when you spread out on the floor a minute ago. I’m taking you home, Ryan. Even if you’re kicking and screaming.”
“You’re such an arrogant arsehole!” My hands stop their assault on Tanner’s backside in favour of covering my rump. This is mortifying. I hang my head and let my hair cover my face, praying like fuck I don’t see anyone I know. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it, woman.” Tanner pauses at the door and turns his body so my head is facing a different direction. “Now, tell this nice man I’m not a rapist.”
A bouncer-looking bloke turns his head upside down to make eye contact with me. I mumble, “He’s not a rapist. Just a walking dead man.” I straighten a bit with my crescendoed scream. The bouncer lets out a hearty laugh that dumps hot coals into the pit of my belly. So not the reaction I was looking for.
He moves to let us pass and then Tanner drops me down in front of a cab. I ball up my fists and wallop him a few times. “I’m not a petulant child, you animal.”
He doesn’t even flinch.
I exhale in concession and fold myself in behind Indie and Camden. When we’re all in the cab and it begins moving, Tanner breaks the silence with a surprisingly jovial tone. “Well, did you all have a fun night?”
I love sports romances so when I saw Endurance I couldn’t wait to read it! I am embarrassed to say… this was my first Amy Daws book. I can definitely say it won’t be the last! (I may have already exercised that 1Click finger!)
I was drawn in right from the start. With the utter craziness of Tanner that hid a much deeper side that you can’t help but love and want to hold tight to. With Belle, who has so many sides to her she constantly keeps Tanner on his toes. I loved the push and pull between these two. They had fabulous chemistry and were HOT together. But they also had substance. I loved watching them grow as characters, that is always my favorite thing in a book and it was done so beautifully her. So naturally and it just made my heart so happy.
I read Endurance straight through. It made me feel, it made me smile, laugh.. just everything! This is one I urge you to go buy and read.. you won’t regret it!
I received a complimentary copy of Endurance.
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About the Author
Amy Daws is a lover of all things British and her London-based love stories bring the incredible city to life on every page. Read all about hot British men, hilarious heroines, and unforgettable and original ensemble casts that pull out all the feels. For more of Amy’s work, visit www.amydawsauthor.com
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Everyone knows there is no “I” in team, but to Macs Newstead–orgasm-gifting, muscle-filled Navy SEAL hero–there are more important words than team. Words like victory and vanity and selfishness. People say those words like they are a bad thing, but to Macs, they’re simply tools in his highly effective arsenal. When a man’s entire existence revolves around the necessity to end lives, silly, mundane things like second dates or monogamy seem worthy sacrifices.
Downward facing dog or doggy-style–it’s all the same to Teala Smart, a whip-smart yoga instructor. She owns her studio like she owns her life–with focus, positive energy, and pure devotion. That devotion, however, does not trickle into her love life (or more accurately, her lust life.) Relationships are a roadblock to her success. They get in the way and tangle up emotions more than the lotus pose tangles up limbs. Men are best kept just for a night and then released into the wild before feelings get too messy.
HERO HAIR, the second novel of International Bestselling Author Rachel Robinson’s THE REAL SEAL SERIES, is the account of an life-altering journey detailing the awakening of two hollow hearts, both set on taking their own pleasures without any emotional attachment. The ruthless SEAL finally meets an enemy he can’t defeat, and both Macs and Teala find, against their wishes, and despite atrocious circumstances, a chemistry so explosive it leaves nothing but deconstructing love in its wake.
“Still want to have our third date?” he asks, pulling his t-shirt up to expose his abs. He bites the dark, cotton fabric, like men in fashion magazines do. With his abs flexed he poses so casual, so fucking drool-worthy, so over-the-top, and he gets away with it. He tosses the shirt onto the counter, with his tongue caught between his teeth.
I blow out a breath. It’s as hot as a Channing Tatum movie. More so, because I can actually touch this body–can do whatever I want with this body. “How am I supposed to say anything but yes when you don’t play fair? You’re over there with your goddamn abs and dimples and precision stripping skills.” I motion to his body.
“Babe, you played dirty first. Your mouth is like a fucking dirty poker game. One you’ll win every single time.”
I wrinkle my forehead. “Thanks I guess. Third date?” I ask, tilting my head to the side.
“Let’s go to my bedroom,” he says.
About the Author
Rachel grew up in a small, quiet town full of loud talkers. Her words were always only loud on paper. She has been writing stories and creating characters for as long as she can remember. After living on the west coast for many years she recently moved to Virginia Beach, VA.
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I faked my way long enough by keeping my mouth shut, painting a fake smile on my face and focusing hard on my job.
I quit going out to find that random piece of ass.
Not a one of them would stand up to her anyway.
She hates me, loathes me even.
Little does Vivian Shepard know I’ve got more tricks up my sleeve than she will ever begin to imagine to get her to change her mind, to get my chance.
I’m not giving up.
I want her, and by God, I’ll fight as dirty as I can get to have her.
No matter what!
Of course, I knew it was a one- night stand.
It’s was the perfect night before all hell broke loose to be quite honest.
Drinking, talking and flirting.
One I relished in as I tried to gravitate my mind back to solid ground after soaring so high I could feel the rush of flying.
My stomach dipped, my heart fluttered, and my toes curled inward and then I splattered to the hard surface of the ground.
Jude Westbrooke opened his big fat mouth.
He ruined it, ruined me, ruined it all.
“We need to talk.” I finally manage to pull away from her. My eyes are diverting from her mouth to her soaked t-shirt. “Fuck,” I snarl. Her pink nipples are standing out against the wet fabric, which is white and very thin. My gaze darkens the further south it goes, down to her tiny little pink and white shorts that are saturated. Rivulets of water are dripping down her long, toned legs, dripping off her silky skin to mix with the giant puddle on the floor.
“You look absolutely beautiful, Red.”
“What in the hell are you doing here, Jude? It’s a monsoon out there. And what gives you the right to barge into my house and attack me like that, anyway? Have you lost your mind?” She shoves me back a step and climbs off the counter, nearly falling on her ass in the process. Slippery when wet, baby! The spell is broken.
“I didn’t lose my mind. You fucking stole it. I can’t stop thinking about you, and no matter what you try and say, I know damn well you don’t want me to. So we are talking, goddamn it!” I yell.
“Well, that sure didn’t sound like talking to me. And take your mind back. I don’t want it.” Liar.
“No, darling, it wasn’t talking. What that was, was several months of pent-up frustration over wanting more of what you gave me the night we met. What that was, was me telling you that I’m not a man who walks away from something he knows is rare. You want to give me my mind back, then let me give you something more to stew about in that pretty head of yours. You are so full of shit if you think for one second I’m buying the piss-ass excuse that you don’t want me. And before your head gets all rattled and you start spewing more of your shit, I’m not talking about sex, Vivian. I’m talking about you. The woman I know is in there, but is too fucking stubborn to let the best side of her out. I want that woman. The woman I met before I fucked shit up. The woman I want to ask out on a date. So, you know what? I’m here to tell you that once you decide to let that woman emerge, you give me a call.”
I turn to leave and grab the door handle. I’m so fucking mad she isn’t trying to stop me like she should that I could spit nails into this door. Hammer this goddamn thing shut.
“I’m telling you right the hell now, Vivian, that if you don’t call me, then you are wasting what I know for a goddamn fact would be the greatest gift given to me, which is you.”
Kathy Coopmans’ Jude was that perfect mixture of sexy, sweet, dirty talking alpha male that wanted to protect everyone around him. As his very world spiraled out of control he realized just how precious those closest to him were and how he would do anythng to protect them. And the way he wasn’t afraid to show his emotions damn near melted my panties right off of me! I loved how tough Vivian was. She has been through so much this last year… but she never backed down. Watching the two of them together brought me such joy.
About the Author:
USA TODAY Best Selling Author Kathy Coopmans, lives in Michigan with her husband Tony where they have two grown sons.
After raising her children she decided to publish her first book and retiring from being a hairstylist.
She now writes full time.
She’s a huge sports fan with her favorite being Football and Tennis.
She’s a giver and will do anything she can to help another person succeed!
Offensive Rebound by MJ Fields is
Meet Trae in this sports romance TODAY!
It’s a call that changes my life–and my little girl’s. Years ago, playing for the NBA was the dream, but the Seattle Stallions suck. Worse than that, my old teammate is now the star center–not to mention my number one rival. There has to be a catch, some sort of agenda. Before I was injured, I was the best. Now? There’s no way they want me.
But when I see the roster and salaries, it all comes together. It’s a chance to get on the court again and change our lives. And I just can’t wait for the opportunity to finally take him down. What I never counted on is Courtney Cohen being the game changer.
I inherited the Bad News Bears of the NBA. When I discovered the star center, my ex fiancé, cheating on me, all I want is to jump ship before the whole thing sinks. But with revenge on my mind, I exact a plan. Take down the dirty player and save my father’s dream.
Suddenly twelve minutes is too little time, and a season is not long enough.
“You still afraid of me?” Courtney asks. I push her hair out of her face. “No.” “I’m afraid of you.” “No beer muscles tonight?” I ask, glancing at her empty glasses. She shakes her head. I scoot in closer to her. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.” “Liking you too much,” she says then takes a drink. I turn her in her seat so she’s facing me. “You’re gonna like me even more when I’m inside you.” Her body grows taut. “You can’t say stuff like that. It makes me uncomfortable.” “Well, now I’m going to have to do it more often to get you used to it; make you crave it, beg for it.”
About the Author
USA Today bestselling author MJ Fields love of writing was in full swing by age eight.
Together with her cousins, she wrote a newsletter and sold it for ten cents to family members.
She self-published her first contemporary, new adult romance in January 2013. Today she has completed seven self-published series, The Love series, The Wrapped series, The Burning Souls series, The Men of Steel series, Ties of Steel series, The Rockers of Steel series and The Norfolk series.
MJ is a hybrid author and publishes an Indie book almost every month, and is signed with a traditional publisher, Loveswept, Penguin Random House, for her co- written series The Caldwell Brothers. Hendrix, Morrison, and Jagger. All three books in the series are published. The Caldwell brothers don’t grow into alphas, when their mother passes away they become her legacy, her good in the world of bad.
MJ was a former small business owner, who closed shop so she could write full time. She lives in central New York, surrounded by family and friends. Her house is full of pets, friends, and noise ninety percent of the time, and she would have it no other way.
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Kira’s finally mine.
And nobody and nothing is going to take her from me. I’ll fight for her, to the death. Do anything for her.
There’s no more living without her. No more holding back my feelings.
If only it was enough.
We’re surrounded every day.
Everyone knows us. Now, they suspect. The odds are stacked against us more than before.
We live in the shadows, hiding our love from the entire world.
But not for long.
I refuse to live like this anymore.
I’ll do whatever it takes to own her. I’m waging a dark war against those that stand against us.
And I will win.
That girl is going to be mine forever, and there’s nothing anyone can do about it.
Why the fuck is Kira at this party?
I have no right to begrudge her this. She should be here, having fun, experiencing college to the fullest.
It just burns that she came here without telling me. That she didn’t even think of inviting me.
That she’s pushing me away while making time to sit on the grass with Austin.
If Dana hadn’t told Ryan to call me, I wouldn’t have known Kira was here.
This party is taking place in one of the student’s homes—a mansion so fucking big, it’s bordering on ridiculous.
I’m never going to find Kira here, and according to what Dana told Ryan, Kira’s shitfaced. Drunk out of her mind.
And Dana lost her.
Growling under my breath, I push past the crowd, ignoring every drunk girl who tries to grope me.
Sometimes I wonder how I ever got high off this kind of attention. How my ego fed on it. It’s annoying as fuck.
I’ve already checked the large ass kitchen. Two of the sitting rooms. The foyer. The pool room. And almost every room upstairs.
I get a text from Dana. Marilyn just spotted her going into the movie theater on the first floor. OMW there now.
Of course this place has a movie theater, too.
Fucking ridiculous, as I said.
I about-face and practically fly down the stairs. I have no idea where the hell the movie theater is, so I grab a few people as I walk and ask them.
All of them are as clueless as I am.
They look at me as if I’m crazy.
To them, I probably look like I am.
Finally, I find one person who knows. Don’t know who he is, don’t care. He points me in the right direction, and I rush away without even thanking him.
The theater is all the way in the back of the house, in an area that’s actually empty. I get there in time to see Dana opening the door and rushing in.
Man, she’s an awesome girl. I could never thank her enough for caring for Kira the way she obviously does.
I go inside and find the small theater empty, except for Dana, Marilyn . . .
My breath whooshes out of me at the sight of her. I’m instantly hard, aching, furious, and possessive.
We haven’t fucked in days and I’d be lying if I said my balls aren’t full to bursting. I need sex right now like I need air and she’s the only person to give it to me.
But she came here, in that tiny, dark purple dress.
I have no right to tell her how to dress–but what the fuck is she doing coming to a party dressed like that without me?
Kira’s leaning against one of the chairs all the way at the front of the theater, refusing to move despite Marilyn urging her.
It’s obvious she really is drunk as a motherfucker.
“I just want to be alone, guys,” she says, almost whining.
I refuse to be amused. Now’s not the time. I’m too pissed at her.
But, fuck me. She’s sexy, adorable, and those lips are begging for my cock.
“I know, sweetie. But it’s not good for you to be alone right now.”
Kira swats Marilyn away. “Stop your shit, woman. You’re not my mother.”
Even Dana laughs at that one.
“She’s not. But I’m your man. And I say you’re not going to be alone.”
They all turn to stare at me as I walk down the short steps toward them.
Kira’s eyes flare with resentment.
She rakes me with a cold stare that still manages to burn my entire body with how hungry it is.
Damn. If any of these girls just happen to look down a bit, they’re going to get an eyeful of how hard my dick is.
“I don’t want you here, either.” She swats me away like an imperious little queen.
“Girls. Leave us.”
Marilyn and Dana hesitate at my tone.
I don’t have time for this shit. “Now.”
Dana snaps to action first and leads Marilyn up the stairs and out of the theater.
Kira’s still looking at me with that rebellious hunger, a lust-filled sneer on her face.
I have no qualms about reaching down and palming my dick in front of her.
Her eyes flare hungrily.
“We’re leaving, Kitty. Now.” I can’t fuck her until she sobers up considering how angry at me she is, but I’m getting her home.
Kira steps toward me and stumbles at bit.
I rush forward and catch her, pulling her up against me.
Contact. Seering, torturous contact. I have my arms wrapped around her, my hands on her ass, before I realize what I’m doing. As always, it’s an instant reaction. Absolutely zero control over my own body.
Kira pushes at my chest and that sexy small growl she gives me turns me on so much. “Don’t touch me.”
My barely leashed temper snaps free. “Like hell. You’re mine.”
She struggles against me, her body sliding along mine. “Excuse me if I don’t want to go back to fucking the dick I’ve seen inside Jennifer two too many times.”
She’s hurting. I get it. Shit, I’d be even more feral in her shoes.
But I’ll be damned if I let her pretend she doesn’t want me anymore.
Fisting her hair, I slide my other hand under her dress and roughly shove her panties to side.
Kira lets out a broken gasp at the feel of my fingers slipping inside her.
I move them around on purpose so she can hear how wet she is. “Lie to me again. Tell me you don’t want me,” I growl in her face.
Her arms wind around my neck and she slams her lips against mine. Growling at me like she hates me and wants to eat me at the same time, she kisses me with everything she has.
Trying to control me.
I want nothing more than to show her who’s fucking in charge here, but she’s licking my tongue like it’s the tip of my dick, and her hips are thrusting up and down, fucking my fingers.
Using me for her pleasure.
Her body locks up, her plump pussy swelling around my fingers. A throb, a rush of liquid, and she’s squirting into my hand, her sexy moans echoing between our lips.
I manhandle her, my mind cracking under the pressure of so much need. Spinning, I fall to my knees on the short steps and place her beneath me.
The steps are short but they’re huge. Enough to accommodate her lower body on one.
Kira leans back with her elbows on the step above her. Head thrown back, gorgeous throat exposed, she struggles to pull in air.
I lean back on my haunches and yank my belt open.
The sound makes her raise her head. By the time her eyes are on my crotch, I already have my glistening cock out in my hand.
She whispers my name like a prayer.
This is what I need. No more distance. No more pain. Just her and her nearly demonic need to have me.
And I need this even more.
I grab her thighs and tug her toward me. Kira says my name again. Her hands land on my shoulders, fisting my shirt.
I spread her legs wide, wider than I probably should, and slide that juicy cunt right onto my dick.
Her body arches off the stairs like she’s being possessed.
If I haven’t left enough of me inside her for her to understand—for her to accept—that I own her and always will . . .
I’m going to remedy that.
And there’s nothing she can do about it.
I pull my hips back, slow, hissing at the slick feel of her pussy walls tightening. Trying to keep me in.
Kira whimpers, clenching me even harder.
Wanting to let me go and powerless to do anything but keep me.
Using all my strength, I slam back into her.
One hard, vicious thrust.
She cries out and comes all over me.
Just like that.
I crack my neck, a growl purring through my chest, and lay into her. No mercy. No thought.
I’m close. Just a few more pumps into that slick cunt.
Kira fists my hair, her moans bouncing off the walls around us. I lower myself down and brace my elbows on either side of her head.
She tries to tug me down and kiss me.
I slide one hand beneath her head, fisting that beautiful hair, and drag her up to me. “Who told you that you could come here dressed like that?”
She bites my lip hard enough to make my vision snap white. I think I taste blood. “Fuck you. You don’t own m—” She chokes on her words with my next thrust.
I can’t stop groaning, yet somehow I’m laughing in her face at the ridiculousness of her statement. “You want to keep fucking lying to yourself, Kitty?”
She hisses like the wild cat she is and leans up to lick across my bottom lip. When she pulls back, I see it.
Her lips are stained with the blood she drew from me.
I press my lips to her, our tongues dueling. We’re nothing but a mindless mass of sex, and I can feel the come rising up my shaft.
In the back of my head, it registers that I hear people speaking.
On the other side of the door.
“That bitch ruined my life!”
“First off, don’t ever call her a bitch in front of me. Got it? Secondly, you have no proof it was her that sent your parents that video. Third, back the fuck off, or I’m going to forget we were ever—”
The door opens.
I raise my head enough to look up. For a split second, the fact that we’ve been caught freezes me.
Then I see two pairs of familiar blue eyes locked on us.
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Meet K.I. Lynn
K.I. Lynn is the USA Today Bestselling Author from The Bend Anthology and the Amazon Bestselling Series, Breach. She spent her life in the arts, everything from music to painting and ceramics, then to writing. Characters have always run around in her head, acting out their stories, but it wasn’t until later in life she would put them to pen. It would turn out to be the one thing she was really passionate about.
Since she began posting stories online, she’s garnered acclaim for her diverse stories and hard hitting writing style. Two stories and characters are never the same, her brain moving through different ideas faster than she can write them down as it also plots its quest for world domination…or cheese. Whichever is easier to obtain… Usually it’s cheese.
Meet N. Isabelle Blanco
Isabelle Blanco was born in Queens, NY (USA). At the age of three, due to an odd fascination with studying her mother’s handwriting, she began to read and write. By the time she’d reached kindergarten, she had an extensive vocabulary and her obsession with words began to bleed into every aspect of her life.
Isabelle Blanco spends her days working as an author, web programmer, marketer, and graphic designer. That is when she isn’t handling her “spawn”, as she calls her son, and brainstorming with him about his future career as a comic book illustrator.