JESSE (Damage Control, #2) COVER REVEAL
New Adult contemporary romance
by Jo Raven
Cover by Jo Raven
Model: Francis Clément
Photographer: Sara Eirew
RELEASE DATE: Late June/Beginning of July 2015
SYNOPSIS
Returning to Madison hurts. I thought I’d left my past behind, but the past goes on living. I carry it inside of me, it’s a piece of me. People have marked me in indelible ways and I drag the shreds of my soul behind me, trying to put my pieces back together. I’m not the Amber I used to be. I fly under the radar, try to be invisible.
It doesn’t always work. Drawing attention scares me. It always spells trouble. Returning to my home town is a last ditch effort to lay my demons to rest and start anew, for good this time.
Meeting Jesse Lee wasn’t in the plan. Yet here he is with his heart-stopping, sexy grin, handsome like a god, shining bright. He’s full of life, full of heat, packing the energy of a thousand suns in his gaze and muscular body. Jesse burns, and the pain of being near him is sweet.
But he’s foiling my plans. It’s hard to remain a ghost when he’s around. Hard to avoid his attention, to remain invisible. He sees me, really sees me, and behind his bright radiance, I can see shadows from his own past crowding in. He’s swimming hard to stay afloat even as he reaches for me.
What is he afraid of? And how can he save me from drowning when he can’t even save himself?
Fashion portrait of a very muscular sexy coll young man
EXCERPT
I turn on him, hands on my hips. “What do you want?”
“That sounds like a trick question.” He winks.
“Does it? You barged in here and you think asking you what you want is a trick question?”
“Hey now. I didn’t barge in here. You opened the door.” He lifts his hands much like Kayla did. I think I scare people.
Good. Better them than me.
“You’re an ass.”
He grins. “And a fine one, too.”
Oh dear God. “You’re a dick.”
He nods solemnly, but his eyes dip to my cleavage and darken to forest green. “A big, big dick.”
Crap, I walked right into this one, didn’t I? Of course, I’ve always had trouble recognizing plays on words and jokes. I should be upset. He’s teasing me, and teasing, in my book, is a prelude to hurting me.
But the smile lingering on his full lips takes the sting away, and what’s more, it’s hot. Way too hot. Heat rushes to my face, flames licking my cheeks, and a pulse starts between my legs.
This is so not happening. “Stop being such a jerk.”
“You say that affectionately.” He’s somehow moved closer to me while I was busy self-combusting and his scent engulfs me, something hot, spicy and heady like mulled wine. “Like that pet name you gave me.”
What? I stare at the dark brows over his intense eyes, the faint stubble on that square jaw, that mouth and… Oh God. I’ve lost the thread. I tear my gaze from his face, glancing down at his bare arms. One of them is heavily inked with swirling colors and a snake.
A cobra, I think, done in red and green, curling on his thick bicep. And underneath the riot of colored ink swathing his arm from shoulder to wrist, faint crisscrossing lines catch my eyes, some thin and some thick, dark and raised.
Scars.
His voice startles me. “This place sure looks different when it’s not full of people.”
“Like what, empty?”
He chuckles, warm and delicious like a treacle of melted hot chocolate. “Like, nice.”
“Although there’s no blonde wrapped around you and no sucking involved?”
He chokes and bends over hacking.
“You…” He shakes his head as he straightens, and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand. “Shit.”
Yeah, I’m not only antisocial, I also don’t have any control over my mouth. Double whammy. Who wouldn’t want to be around me?
“So what do you want?” Might as well get this over with so we can both go on our separate ways – he, back to his blonde and the sucking, and me, to my room and my beads.
He flinches, a barely there twitch that has me wondering if I even saw it. “I lost… something. A leather wrist band. I can’t find it since the party here, and I thought to ask in case you saw it anywhere.”
I remember seeing the band on his arm that night. “It was an old thing, wasn’t it?” Old, worn and starting to fray.
“It’s…” He rubs his forehead, frowning. “It’s important to me.”
He’s been an ass. Sort of. He’s been pushy. Kind of. He scares me.
But the uncertainty is back in his eyes, and now I know I didn’t imagine it. And although I’m not sure what to do with it, this glimpse beneath the sunny surface that defines Jesse Lee, I wish… I wish I could. I wish I had the courage to prod and break the brittle skin, the scab over a wound I can only guess at.
“I haven’t seen it,” I say, and his jaw tightens. This bracelet really seems important to him. “But I’ll look around. We’re still cleaning after the party from hell.”
“Thanks.” His mouth quirks. He shifts back and leans against the wall, and I try hard not to notice how good he looks in a faded green T-shirt and low-slung dark jeans, not to stare at the bulge between his legs.
Oh God, I’m checking out his package. Crap, no way…
AUTHOR BIO:
Jo Raven writes New Adult erotic contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to India and Japan.
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Book Cover : Jo Raven
They hadn’t seen each other in six years.
She’d always had a crush on him.
He’d only ever seen her like a little sister.
And now…he’s back.
Brooklyn
I thought that he was a part of a distant past. I thought I didn’t feel anything for him now, but I was not so sure anymore. Having him back in my life, for however long it was, was making me see things differently. So many things had changed in the last six years and somehow I’d lost myself and forgotten all about my dreams.
My home life was still a mess, my personal life was nothing to boast about and when I see how successful he is, how everything he’d always wanted came true, I couldn’t help but feel lacking in a lot of ways. But he’s back and he needed me. I knew I was the only one who understood that part of his life, the only one he’s willing to share it with. My heart is still beating too hard and too fast for him and this time around, I was as much an adult as he was.
Having a six year age gap didn’t mean shit.
Nolan
Being back in Riverdale was harder than I thought. I’d turned my back on that life, but there had always been that one girl in my head. Little B. Now she’s nothing like the twelve year old girl I’d last seen. She’s a young woman, gorgeous and sexy. I couldn’t stay away. There’s something drawing me to her and it goes beyond my need to reconnect with her, to have her back in my life and fill the hollow part of my chest. But I couldn’t forget the little girl she had been; I shouldn’t forget the little girl she used to be.
Growing up with a junkie mother and nobody else, my neighbor, Brooklyn, had been my only happy place. I had taken care of her, and when I had left, I had to leave behind a huge part of me. I couldn’t do it again. I needed her. Once again, she’s the only person I want in my life, but I wasn’t sure if it was for all the right reasons.
Were there too many obstacles in the way?
Contemporary Romance standalone novel for readers over 18.
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Short Excerpt:
“I won’t push you away.”
His Adam’s apple jumped once and a smile brightened his face. My eyes landed on his pierced lower lip and a wave of lust punched me low in my belly. I cleared my throat, feeling uncomfortable with the pictures my brain conjured.
He came closer, erasing the little space separating us. I could feel the washed away denim of his blue jeans and his firm thigh underneath against my bare leg. I wanted to close my eyes and revel in his presence, in the feel of his body against me, but I didn’t. I kept my eyes open as he leaned into me and wrapped his arms around me. The lean muscles in his arms flexed, his bare and hot skin brushing mine. I felt naked in my tank top as his bare arms were doing things to me I never thought possible.
“Relax, Brooklyn. It’s just me,” he said in my ear, his thin lips and loop tracing the words against the sensitive skin of my ear. I never realized before how an ear could be so erogenous. I couldn’t believe it. I was in Nolan’s arms six years after he left. He was here, in my bedroom.
I took a deep breath and the smell of his clean clothes and the scent that was only him, assaulted me. I was taken back to six years ago, before I had to face the loneliness that was my life. Before I lost my best friend. But right now, I wanted to stay in his arms without thinking about his departure or the future. I wrapped my arms around his narrow waist and balled his t-shirt in my fists.
He relaxed against me and ran a hand up and down my back, avoiding the small of my back that was bared by my tank top which had ridden up. “It feels different,” he said, pulling away. He nibbled on the loop in his lower lip.
I nodded and smiled weakly. Losing the heat and weight of his arms around me made me feel depressed. I missed that kind of attention, of touch. Mike and all the guys before him never hugged me just because they cared about me. If they hugged me it was with the purpose to have me naked minutes later and while I was all for it, it was also difficult when you had nobody to give you a real, warm hug. I’d forgotten what comfort felt like.
“It’s different. We’re both adults now.”
About the author:
Stephanie Witter is a French dreamer. She started learning English at three, and fell in love with the language. Always with a book, or two close by, she started reading in English when she couldn’t wait any longer for Harry Potter to be translated in French. After a while, reading wasn’t enough. She started writing Young Adult and New Adult Contemporary novels and PATCH UP is her first New Adult Contemporary novel.
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Synopsis
His name is Rafaele Vestri, Rafe to his friends.
He’s tall, strong, handsome. Distant. He often comes to the coffee shop where I work, but we don’t talk much. He looks at me, though. Stares at me, his gaze heated, and I can’t help but stare back. I want him, I won’t deny it. I’ve never seen anyone that beautiful, anyone that powerful, in my life.
But he’s growing more withdrawn by the day. Something’s up, and he won’t tell. I know about his past—the murder of his family when he was fifteen. I can imagine how much it must have cost him. So much violence contained in that strong body, waiting to be unleashed. What is he seeking? What is he training so hard for? Why is he looking at me like he’s dying to touch me, but won’t dare?
Even as I try to stop thinking about him, get interested in other boys, I realize I can’t. I’m caught, body and soul, just like that. And I tell myself, Megan, girl… What have you gotten yourself into this time?
Excerpt
I’m staring at Rafe’s hand. Big, strong, callused. A scar runs from his thumb to the index finger. He’s looking at me, waiting. So I lift my hand, place it in his. It fits on his palm, smaller, darker, thinner. He seems as entranced by the contrast as I am. His fingers curl, closing around mine. His lips part but no sound comes from his mouth, and his gaze remains fixed on our entwined hands, pale lashes hiding the gold of his eyes.
Now I’m the one caught, transfixed. His mouth looks soft, vulnerable, at odds with his strong angular features and the broad set of his shoulders. The need to touch his face is overwhelming, and I step closer, so close I can sense his scent. Not a cologne, but the deep scent of his skin, like musk and warm metal. I can see the rise and fall of his chest underneath the black Deathmoth T-shirt he’s wearing under his open jacket, see the outline of his strong pecs.
We’re standing so close our breaths mingle, and our bodies touch in places as we shit feathery brushes that send fire across my skin, into my belly, making me ache. He places his hands on my waist and I grip his thick, sinewy forearms. My stomach drops as if I’m standing at the endge of a precipice, on the edge of a moment that can change everything.
What’s happening? It’s as if in the hollow darkness, the barrier between us is crumbling, the wall he’s set between himself and the world is falling.
His hands tighten on my hipbones and his lashes lift, his gaze moving to my mouth. His breathing is ragged. He tugs me against him, his fingertips digging painfully into my flesh, his arms flexing with barely controlled strength. His arousal presses into my stomach, hot and thick, caught sideways in his jeans.
My mind fills up with static. Rafe wants me. There’s the solid proof of his desire. The heated gaze I’ve felt so often on me is translated into a physical reaction, and it makes me feel so hot, I can’t help myself. I want to stroke his square jaw, drag my fingertips over the golden stubble on his cheeks, kiss those damnable dimples.
Author Bio and Links
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. Sh loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling
Links
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjoraven
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Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1huhvxy
Blog: http://www.joraven.com/
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SYNOPSIS:
His name is Rafaele Vestri, Rafe to his friends.
He’s tall, strong, handsome. Distant. He often comes to the café where I work, but we don’t talk much. He looks at me, though. Stares at me, his gaze heated, and I can’t help but stare back. I want him, I won’t deny it. I’ve never seen anyone that beautiful, anyone that powerful, in my life.
But he’s growing more withdrawn by the day. Something’s up, and he won’t tell. I know about his past – the murder of his family when he was fifteen. I can imagine how much it must have cost him. So much violence contained in that strong body, waiting to be unleashed. What is he seeking? What is he training so hard for? Why is looking at me like he’s dying to touch me, but won’t dare?
Even as I try to stop thinking about him, get interested in other boys, I realize I can’t. I’m caught, body and soul, just like that. And I tell myself, Megan, girl… What have you gotten yourself into this time?
This is book 5 in the Inked Brotherhood series which started with Asher. It is a stand-alone work. No cliffhanger.
The expected publication date is end March/beginning April 2015, on all of your favorite e-book websites.
EXCERPT:
I’m staring at Rafe’s hand. Big, strong, callused. A scar runs from his thumb to the index finger.
He’s looking at me, waiting. What does he want?
I lift my hand, place it in his. It fits on his palm, smaller, darker, thinner. He seems as entranced by the contrast as I am. His fingers slowly curl, closing around mine. His lips part, but no sound comes from his mouth, and his gaze remains fixed on our entwined hands, pale lashes hiding the gold of his eyes.
Now I’m the one caught, transfixed. His mouth looks soft, vulnerable, at odds with his strong, angular features and the broad set of his shoulders. The need to touch his face is overwhelming, and I step closer, so close I can sense his scent. Not a cologne, but the deep scent of his skin, like musk and warm metal. I can see the rise and fall of his chest underneath the black Deathmoth T-shirt he’s wearing under his open jacket, see the outline of his strong pecs.
We’re standing so close our breaths mingle, and our bodies touch in places as we shift, feathery brushes that send fire across my skin, into my belly, making me ache. He places his hands on my waist and I grip his thick, sinewy forearms. My stomach drops as if I’m standing at the edge of a precipice, on the edge of a moment that can change everything.
What’s happening? It’s as if in the hollow darkness, the barrier between us is crumbling, the wall he’s set between himself and the world is falling.
His hands tighten on my hipbones and his lashes lift, his gaze moving to my mouth. His breathing is ragged. He tugs me against him, his fingertips digging painfully into my flesh, his arms flexing with barely controlled strength.
His arousal presses into my stomach, hot and thick, caught sideways in his jeans.
My mind fills up with static. Rafe wants me. There’s the solid proof of his desire. The heated gaze I’ve felt so often on me is translated into a physical reaction, and it makes me feel so hot I might burst into flames. He’s so handsome, I can’t help myself. I want to stroke his square jaw, drag my fingertips over the golden stubble on his cheeks, kiss those damnable dimples.
I whimper, the sound coming from deep inside me, and he freezes, goes so still I’m not even sure he’s breathing.
Then he jerks back, releases me so fast I’m left reeling.
“Fuck,” he hisses. He buries his fingers in his short blond hair, pulls, his mouth now hard like the rest of him, pressed into a flat line. “This is a mistake.”
A knot is gathering in my throat, in my chest, cutting off air.
I want to be mad at him, but his hands are trembling, and his amber eyes so full of pain I forget my anger before it even forms. He’s like mist, here and suddenly gone, lost into thin air. I have to touch him, touch his bare skin, prove he’s real.
“Wait.” I lift my hand to his face, fingertips skimming over the smooth skin of his cheekbone. Warm. Satin soft.
A pang goes through my chest, an ache that feels too much like sorrow, and I’m not sure if it’s mine or his.
He jerks away, his eyes wide on his pale face. He reaches up, his hand hovering over the spot I touched. Then he turns and rushes off into the crowd.
My hand is still hovering in midair. I don’t know for how long I stand there, staring at my splayed fingers, trying to figure out what happened. Or maybe trying to find another explanation for his reaction, desperate for him to be different to any other handsome, arrogant guy. Maybe I imagined the pain in his gaze – or maybe that pain is real but doesn’t make a difference. Traumatic past or not, he’s sorry he touched me, sorry he desired me. Big surprise. Why would he desire me, of all girls? There are so many vying for his attention. Girls who have witty, sexy things to say, and who don’t go stiff like cardboard when he touches them.
The thought of him touching other girls shouldn’t hurt quite as much as it does. And this is a bad sign. Very bad sign, Megan, I tell myself and lower my hand that touched him. I feel as if my fingertips are numb, burnt by the feel of his skin.
AUTHOR BIO:
Jo Raven writes New Adult erotic contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to India and Japan.
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★ ★ Release Day Blitz ★ ★
DYLAN by Jo Raven
Goodreads link:
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23596082-dylan
Synopsis:
When you’ve tried your best for years and never managed to please your demanding parents… When you’ve fallen head over heels for someone who keeps ignoring you… When you’ve hit rock bottom.
Tessa is this close to giving up – on her authoritative parents and their demands, on her studies, on everything in her life.
Including Dylan. The one boy she has loved since she can remember. The one who dated her and promised her forever when they were fourteen, and then dumped her without an explanation only to ignore her ever since.
The one who shows up to save her from the hands of her abusive ex before the stroke of midnight, who kisses her and holds her close, only to tell her in the course of the same night he doesn’t love her.
Tessa knows Dylan has gone through some tough times, and they’re only getting tougher – but is he telling the truth about his lack of feelings for her, or is he running from his own demons?
The way Tessa sees it, she has two options: run away, leaving it all behind – or stay to fight against her controlling family, and win back Dylan. She has a feeling he needs her, and how can she leave when he’s the only man who’s ever made her feel alive?
Standalone novel. No cliffhanger.
*Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and violence. Mature readers only. Not intended for young readers.*
Buy Links:
Excerpt:
The familiar chatter fills my ears as soon as I step inside, and I grab a juice. As I wait to pay, I absently scan the tables. Wild hair, wilder clothes, outrageous make-up. Your typical college students.
Except the guy sitting alone at a table in a corner. No wild hair or clothes, and yet he snags my gaze, hooks me and reels me in. I study the familiar close-cropped blond hair, the beautiful profile, the powerful shoulders stretching his gray sweater.
Dylan.
My turn comes to pay for my juice, and instead I drop my purse and spill coins everywhere. Laughter ripples around me. Yeah, your typical college student is also easily amused.
Mortified, I glance in Dylan’s direction, but he seems lost in thought. Thank God. I pay and clutch my juice like a shield in front of me as I make my way toward him. After thinking about Sean, Dylan’s presence makes me feel better. Safe. Warm.
So I approach, taking him in. He’s dressed in well-worn jeans and that old sweater he’s had since high school. He needs no expensive suits. With his broad shoulders and trim body, he’s so hot he’d put any male model to shame.
It strikes me how much he’s grown from the boy he was when we dated. Even from the boy he was a year ago, with the purple bangs. It’s like he’s shed all playfulness, all childishness, as if he had to give it up overnight.
Not sure why, but it makes me sad for him.
“Hey,” I say, and sit across from him.
He starts, pushing back from the table, and I frown as I notice the dark bags under his blue eyes, and how thin his handsome face has become. He hasn’t shaved for at least a couple of days, and his jaw is covered in golden stubble.
“Tess,” he whispers, and my breath catches. He never calls me that nowadays. “What do you want?”
“You didn’t show up in biology class,” I say, before I lose my nerve. “And I haven’t talked to you in a while. Is everything okay?”
“Fine,” he mutters.
“You’ve missed many classes already.”
“I never enrolled in that class. Or any class.”
“You never…” My brain stalls. “Then why did you show up on the first day?”
“Because I hoped I could do this,” he snaps, and it’s my turn to flinch. “I’m not enrolled in college. Not anymore.”
“That’s a pity,” I whisper. My chest aches.
He gets up. “Look, I’ve got to go.”
“Yeah.” I nod, finally accepting what Audrey has been telling me all along. “Take care, Dylan.”
His eyes narrow. “You too. What’s this about?”
“This is about me,” I say and unscrew the lid off my juice with shaky hands.
“What do you mean?” His face is pale, the silver ring in his lip glinting dully in the fluorescent lights of the cafeteria.
I force myself to look away. “I mean,” I say softly, “this is goodbye.”
Author Bio and Stalker links:
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of travelling.
Stalker Links:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjoraven
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorjoraven
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1rf8drw
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1huhvxy
Blog: http://www.joraven.com/
Sign up to newsletter: http://eepurl.com/TbqOT
Street team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1495237080713248/
Title: Dylan: Book 4
Series: Inked Brotherhood
Author: Jo Raven
Release Date: To Be Confirmed
Goodreads Link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23596082-dylan
Synopsis:
When you’ve tried your best for years and never managed to please your demanding parents… When you’ve fallen head over heels for someone who keeps ignoring you… When you’ve hit rock bottom.
Tessa is this close to giving up – on her authoritative parents and their demands, on her studies, on everything in her life.
Including Dylan. The one boy she has loved since she can remember. The one who dated her and promised her forever when they were fourteen, and then dumped her without an explanation only to ignore her ever since.
The one who shows up to save her from the hands of her abusive ex before the stroke of midnight, who kisses her and holds her close, only to tell her in the course of the same night he doesn’t love her.
Tessa knows Dylan has gone through some tough times, and they’re only getting tougher – but is he telling the truth about his lack of feelings for her, or is he running from his own demons?
The way Tessa sees it, she has two options: run away, leaving it all behind – or stay to fight against her controlling family, and win back Dylan. She has a feeling he needs her, and how can she leave when he’s the only man who’s ever made her feel alive?
Standalone novel. No cliffhanger.
*Warning: this book contains graphic language, sex, and violence. Mature readers only. Not intended for young readers.*
Author Bio:
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of travelling.
Stalker Links:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/authorjoraven
Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorjoraven
Goodreads: http://bit.ly/1rf8drw
Amazon Author Page: http://amzn.to/1huhvxy
Blog: http://www.joraven.com/
Sign up to newsletter: http://eepurl.com/TbqOT
Street team: https://www.facebook.com/groups/1495237080713248/
MICAH (Damage Control #1) COVER REVEAL
New Adult contemporary romance
by Jo Raven
Cover by Jo Raven
RELEASE DATE: Dec 16, 2014 in the Red Hot Alphas Boxset
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SYNOPSIS
There’s me: Micah Owens. Tattoo artist at Damage Control. No parents or siblings. A past that still gives me nightmares.
And then there’s her: Evangeline, the girl who saved my life and haunts my more pleasant dreams. Only she doesn’t know who I really am, and telling her might well send her fleeing for the hills. She deserves better than a loser like me. She’s pretty. She’s clever. She’s goddamn sexy and has a heart of gold.
Which is why I can’t tell her. A smile from her and I’ll do all I can to make her mine – including pretending to be someone I’m not, someone worth having.
Isn’t love weird?
This is book 1 in the Damage Control series – a series parallel to Inked Brotherhood, so that you’ll find the boys of Inked Brotherhood making appearances here, too.
MICAH is a stand-alone work. No cliffhanger.
The expected publication date is Dec 16, 2014 in the Red Hot Alphas Boxset, on all of your favorite e-book websites.
EXCERPT
Quiet.
I ring the bell again, and when nothing happens, I check the piece of paper. I’m at the right place. Maybe Rafe made a mistake? Or maybe Micah is not in.
Just when I’m about to turn and go, I think I hear footsteps and push the paper into the pocket of my jacket. I lick my lips, my nervousness returning.
The lock creaks and the door slides open. “Yeah?” a hoarse male voice says, and I catch a glimpse of a suspicious blue eye through the opening.
“Micah? It’s me, Ev.” Oh God, this sounds so lame. I shift my weight again, my leg twinging. “I, um. I forgot my walking stick at the cafe…” I feel ridiculous addressing his eye and not even seeing his whole face. “I was hoping maybe you noticed and got it for me.”
“Ev?” His voice cracks. He turns away and coughs, and the worry gently gnawing at my insides morphs into a voracious monster.
“Are you all right?” My voice goes high-pitched, and I wince. Calm down, Ev. “That cold still hasn’t cleared up?”
“What?” He pulls the door open and leans against it, bracing one arm on the frame. One bare, muscled arm. Attached to his muscular bare chest. “Oh, the cold, yeah. I’m fine.”
Fine. “Why did you stay home if you’re fine?”
He blinks at me, a slow sweep of long lashes against high cheekbones, and I have a moment of oh-crap-I’ve-gone-too-far panic.
But he doesn’t slam the door in my face as I think he might. “Rough night,” he mutters. “Ocean said he’d cover for me at work, so I stayed home to sleep.”
Straightforward. Honest. A rough night. I want to ask what made it rough, but I think I’ve already overstepped the boundaries of our… friendship? Acquaintance?
I drop my gaze from his face, and that’s a mistake. My mind blanks a little as I realize he’s shirtless and barefoot, lounging in front of me in only a pair of gray low-hung, draw-string pants. My gaze slides back up his long legs to his narrow hipbones and a spectacular set of abs, complete with sexy divots forming a V line.
My mouth is honest-to-god watering. I tear my gaze off those lickable abs only for it to be caught by his defined pecs and then his amused sky-blue eyes.
“Is there anything I can do for ya?” he drawls lazily, and I swear my panties get wet at the raspy sound.
Well, wetter.
Which is kind of alarming. No guy has ever had such an effect on me before.
AUTHOR BIO
Jo Raven writes New Adult contemporary romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong-willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling to India and Japan.
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