Publication date: May 27th, 2013
Genre: New Adult Romance
“If you’re broken, I’ll fix you…”
I’m only twenty-one and already damaged goods. A slut. A failure. A disappointment to my picture-perfect family as long as I can remember. I called off my wedding to William Bailey, the only man who thought I was worth fixing. A year later, he’s marrying my sister. Unless I ask him not to…
“If you shatter, I’ll find you…”
But now there’s Asher Logan, a broken man who sees the fractures in my façade and doesn’t want to fix me at all. Asher wants me to stop hiding, to stop pretending. Asher wants to break down my walls. But that means letting him see my ugly secrets and forgiving him for his.
With my past weighing down on me, do I want the man who holds me together or the man who gives me permission to break?
“You’ve had a long day,” he says. “You want to talk?”
I drape my arms behind his neck. “Why would you think I want to talk to you at all?”
He grunts. “Because you’re looking at me like a starved woman at a prime rib buffet.”
“Yes,” I murmur. “What does that have to do with talking?”
His eyes are so damn sexy. The kind of eyes you see in magazines, where the man staring at you from the pages seems to invite you to strip bare while promising you’d enjoy it.
“Don’t you want us to get to know each other before you indulge?”
I pretend to consider it. “I’m more about the meal than the conversation.”
“You’re a kid.” If it’s supposed to be an objection it rings weak against the pressure of his hand on my hip.
I trace a rivulet of water down his neck. “I’m twenty-one.” I bring up my knees and wrap my legs around his waist, satisfied when he draws in his breath with a sharp hiss.
“Is this about him?” he asks.
I frown. “Who?”
“The groom at your sister’s wedding? He has some kind of hold on you. I saw it in your eyes. In his.”
“This has nothing to do with William Bailey.”
He looks unconvinced but doesn’t call my bluff. Instead, he brushes his lips over mine. Gentle. Careful. Sweet.
The only thing that can break me tonight is sweet, and I won’t be broken. I bite his full bottom lip and dig my nails into his shoulder blades.
A quick study, he gets my message. His hand tangles into my hair while the other digs into my ass and pulls me against him. The hard length of his cock rests between my legs and lights a hot coil of pulsing energy.
He rubs his tongue against mine and moans. Or maybe that’s me, because I’m pulling him closer. I wrap my arm tighter behind his neck, and I’m practically crawling up him in my efforts to get closer and closer still.
I break the kiss and make myself back off. I’m not the kind of girl who loses control. I don’t lose my mind over men and expect to be saved. I don’t want Asher to save me.
His fingertips are at my hip, tracing an invisible path down and under, moving ever closer to that coiled ache between my thighs. His lips part and our breath mingles as I savor the heat of his body against mine, the sweet anticipation of his fingers inching closer to where I want them.
I slide a hand down his bare chest and between our bodies and cup him through his swim trunks. I’m rewarded with another hiss and then his lips, his tongue, his teeth, hot and desperate against my neck, nipping, toying, playing. Electrifying the sensitive skin.
He cups my breast, and this time I know the moan I hear is my own.
“So goddamn sexy.” His thumb flicks across my nipple, a strangled sound escaping his throat.
I graze my fingertips under the waistband of his swim trunks. I want to feel him in my palm. I want that power to whip through me as I wrap my hands around his hot flesh and it pulses thicker, harder.
For a moment, that’s where this is headed. His hands are greedy, all over me, his mouth doing delicious things to my neck.
“You have protection, right?” I ask.
He laughs and stops toying with me, his head leaning against my shoulder. Slowly, he slides his hands to my back. “That’s not exactly something I keep tucked in my swim trunks.”
I’m so aroused it hurts. Asher is stunning. Solid. Delicious. I want to bite into that corded muscle of his neck. Want to explore that smattering of chest hair with my fingers while I drag my mouth down his flat stomach.
But he doesn’t have protection, and that’s a deal breaker.
“In your house?” My breathing’s unsteady, my heart pounding.
He cups my face in one big hand. “Why don’t you run home and get dressed? I’ll take you to breakfast.”
My jaw goes slack. Who the hell is this guy? Who has brakes that good?
About this Author:
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Lexi Ryan writes romances with humor, heat, and heart. Her books are described as fun, flirty, and wickedly sexy. A lover of learning, Lexi has been in the classroom all her life and currently holds the title of assistant professor of English at her local community college. Lexi is a proud member of Romance Writers of America. She lives in rural Indiana with her husband and two children.
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Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter