AVAILABLE NOVEMBER 1, 2016
She’s a rocker with attitude and ink…
He’s a sexy suit who gets what he wants
Kevan Landry is trying to keep her life on track and her brother in rehab. If her fledgling marketing firm can sign the hot new band, Manix Curse, it will make a world of difference. Mason Dillon heads the most successful music PR firm in Portland. He’s desperate to breathe new life into the company by signing Manix Curse.
The last thing either one needs is a one-night stand with a smoldering stranger…
The stakes are high when a battle for the band—in the bedroom and the boardroom—becomes a battle of the heart. But if these two can set aside their differences, they may find they’re the right mix of sexy savvy to conquer both their worlds.
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She smiled, staring down at the table for a moment before looking into his expectant face. “So what were we talking about?”
His mouth twisted into a teasing smile, and little crinkles appeared around his eyes, making him even more gorgeous. Mason reached up and brushed her hair back again, tangling his fingers in her locks. Instinctively, she rolled her head back into his grasp and stared into his eyes. She could swim in his sultry gaze for days, like a parched nomad during an extended drought. In the desert. And no oasis in sight.
“We were talking about the bands,” he said.
“Right. What did you think of the bands?”
Dropping his hand to her neck, he began to rub in small, gentle circles with rough, calloused fingers. His warm fingers on her cool skin melted her tense muscles, and she tried unsuccessfully to suppress a moan. When Dana delivered their drinks. Mason paid the bill and included a generous tip.
“Both were quite good,” he said. “Toast needs some time to mature as a band, but Manix Curse is phenomenal. Great sound and stage presence.”
Her chin dropped, and she looked down her nose as he reached for his water. “You’re a fan of metal, Mr. Armani Fancy Pants? You seem as conventional as a vanilla shake.”
He coughed, water splattering the table. “Wow. That’s what I look like to you?”
Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he patted his damp face. Classy. Of course he has a frigging hanky.
“I happen to like vanilla shakes. And, yes, you’re a very good-looking, tall suit. How tall are you? Six and a half feet?”
Tucking the damp cloth back into his pocket, he nodded. “About. I assure you I’m far more interesting than plain vanilla. Come home with me.”
His hands gently caressed down the sides of her face and pulled her in for a kiss. The heat from his hands told her one thing: together they would be an inferno. He looked into her eyes, silently requesting her compliance by agreeing to spend the night with him. She nodded, or at least she thought she did. He pressed his full mouth over hers, caressing her lips with his before parting them. Her galloping pulse shot to a sprint and was bolting for the finish line. His tongue explored her mouth with tenderness and determination. It was the slowest, deepest kiss she’d had. Ever. The man could kiss. That was for fucking sure.
The tiny remnant of Kevan’s capacity for reason that still remained told her she should push him away. This was moving way too quickly. But it was hard to deny the magnetic pull of her body to his that she’d felt even before almost landing in his lap.
As the kiss deepened, all rational thought seeped away, leaving only her need. Kevan pushed her palms up under Mason’s coat, and his solid muscles flexed beneath his shirt. She was definitely considering throwing her self-imposed celibacy to the wind and jumping this man. Her eyelids floated shut when one of his hands brushed her neck and swept down her back, his mouth catching her moan. She could feel the dampness starting to build between her legs and the flutter in her lower belly. Was she really allowing a stranger to practically feel her up in public?
Yes, yes she was. For now, it was such a relief to let the world—her brother, her financial problems—fall away.
Mason pulled her closer, his hard body against her soft one. For the first time, Kevan felt small and delicate next to his overwhelming size. She couldn’t shake the sense of safety and protection that engulfed her as he cradled her in his strong arms. Which, of course, was ridiculous, since he was a complete stranger.
She knitted her fingers through his thick curls, and her other hand skated over his shoulder, slowly outlining his rigid and defined body beneath her fingers. Compelled to see his face, she opened her eyes and was surprised to see him looking at her with hooded lids, watching her every wanton reaction. She felt him smile against her lips, and he moved his mouth delicately across her jawline and to her neck.
“Please come home with me.” His deep voice implored her to give in. He leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose gently, almost chastely. “I promise I’ll be worth it.” One hand held her tightly above the waist and traveled up her rib cage, where his thumb brushed the underside of her aching breast, making her clit throb and her knees tremble with want. His other hand on the back of her neck tilted her head so he could have unrestricted access to her throat. His mouth touched her skin and his nibbles increased, turning more aggressive when he suddenly bit her earlobe.
She gasped the word “no.”
He leaned back to look at her face. His sexy smile fell. She took perverse satisfaction in realizing this man was not used to being told no. She chose to ignore the voice in her head telling her No shallow hookups, no normal guys. Focus on business and business only.
“But I might bring you home with me,” she said. Screw her plan. Why couldn’t she have one night in the arms of a really hot guy? She could totally do a one-night stand. Right?
The corner of his lush mouth jumped, and those eyes twinkled with mischief. “Oh, you will.”
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