Maximum Risk: The Andrades, Book Three
Release date: 01/27/2015
Excerpt:
“In gambling, there is always a time when a person has to
decide what their maximum bet will be . . . how much they’re willing to risk
for a chance to win it all. There is no maximum risk when it comes to
us—because I don’t consider you a risk. You dared me once to believe in
something, anything. I believe in us, Tara. You and me. Today. Tomorrow.
Forever.” – Maxwell Andrade
Spicy excerpt:
“I told you I
don’t do relationships,” he said and couldn’t believe the words had come out of
his mouth.
“You did,” she
said simply, and walked past him to look out the window for the car.
He went to stand
beside her. “I never lied to you.”
She shrugged and
continued to look out the window.
Fight it as he
did, he couldn’t deny how much he wanted to turn her around, pull her into his
arms, and kiss her until they found a way past this. He didn’t, though.
Instead, he muttered, “I have nothing to feel sorry about.”
She turned back
toward him, her eyes flashing with temper. “You think I want an apology from
you? Please spare me. I’m not angry with you. I’m angry with me. You are the
same man I met in this very foyer and told myself to forget about. You’re
right. You told me who you were and what you wanted. I am the one who made up
an entirely different and completely fictional version of you.” She waved her
hands sarcastically in the air. “I absolve you of all wrongdoing. Are you happy
now?”
“No,” he growled
and grabbed one of her arms. “I’m not happy with any of this.”
She leaned in
and growled right back at him, “Good, at least you’re willing to admit that
much.”
“I don’t want
you here,” he said angrily.
“Then let go of
my arm,” Tara snapped back.
“But I don’t
want you to leave,” he said just as curtly. He tightened his grip on her arm.
“Then ask me to
stay,” she said, her tone still angry.
A horn blared in
the driveway announcing the arrival of the car he’d called to take her to the
airport. He and Tara stood in a silent standoff, their ragged breathing the
only sound in the large foyer. Outside the car blared its horn again.
“Is your name
actually Tara?” he asked softly.
“Yes. Almost
everything I said to you was true. The only part that was a lie was how I met
Maddy and why I was spending so much time with her.”
“Dyson?”
“He’s Brigitte’s
. . . whatever. If last night went how Dyson hoped, they’re having breakfast
together right now.”
“I won’t make
you any promises.”
Tara said, “Do
you know what I do for a living? Normally, I mean? I follow unfaithful men
around and provide photographic proof of their infidelity to their wives. I
probably wouldn’t believe any vows if you made them.”
Max frowned. He
didn’t like her answer. He didn’t know what he wanted her to say, but he knew
that wasn’t it. He needed to somehow get back in control of the conversation.
“We’ll keep things casual.”
For a moment he
thought she wasn’t pleased with that idea, but she said, “Casual. Perfect. We
both do what we want when we want and don’t worry about what either of us are
doing when we’re not together.”
Max liked that
comment even less. “You’re not sleeping with anyone else while you’re with me.”
Tara put a hand
on one hip and cocked her head to the side. “Casual means you don’t have a say
in what I do, or who I do, when I’m not with you.”
Max glared down
at Tara.
She glared up at
him.
He couldn’t take
it anymore; he picked her up and started carrying her back up the stairs to the
bedroom.
She wrinkled her
nose at him, her eyes warming as the same need that had overtaken him began to
spread through her. “The car is going to leave.”
“Good,” he said,
breathing in the heavenly scent of her hair and imagining how it would feel on
his thigh as those luscious lips of hers closed around his cock.
She wrapped her
arms around his neck and whispered, “Is this your way of asking me to stay?”
He grinned down
at her. “No, I’ll ask by licking that ***** of yours until you come in my
mouth.”
She hid her face
in his neck, but he saw her blush and smile as she did. “That works for me.”
No comments:
Post a Comment