Synopsis
Grant
Manwhore. Adrenaline junkie. Lead singer of ContraBand. What you see is what you get. I make no apologies for my actions, and by now no one expects any from me. I live my life the way I want and as long as it pushes the demons back, then I'm solid. I've never needed a chick for more than a good lay. Why would I need just one when I can have a different one every night?
Until she walks into my world.
Aribel
Mouthy. Perfectionist. Princeton student. Chemistry major. Yes, that pretty much describes me. Oh, and virgin. But I'm only nineteen, and have more important things to concern myself with. What really matters is finishing my degree and getting a good job. I’ve worked hard for what I want, and do what’s expected of me. I don’t need anyone to get in my way.
Until he opens up my world.
But if I give you my world, whatever you do…don’t TAKE ME for granted.
Excerpt
“So, you won’t let me in then?” He hovered mere inches away from me.
“I’m not sure how many more times I have to tell you that you can’t come inside,” I said irritably.
A smile crossed his face, the same one that had done me in the last time we’d been together. I could feel the tension crackling between us, like a struck match or a zap of static.
“Fine,” he said.
Then, he grabbed me around the waist, yanked me outside, and dropped his mouth down onto mine hungrily. I lost myself in his lips. His hands ducked under my sweater, and his fingers dug into my soft flesh beneath. And without even realizing it, I was grasping his T-shirt for dear life and feeling the cold metal of his dog tags in my hands.
Holy shit! I’d never been kissed like this before. My whole body was on fire, and his lips were just fueling the flame. Burning desire snaked through me, starting in my fingertips, scorching through my chest, and settling in my core.
Grant walked me backward into my apartment and slammed the door shut. My back hit the wall, but our lips never broke apart. His hands ventured up my shirt, and I stopped breathing as he trailed his fingers lightly along my ribs. He skimmed the underside of my breast, and a groan escaped my lips. I squirmed against him, wanting what he was offering and silently freaking the fuck out.
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About the Author
K.A. Linde graduated with her Masters in political science from the University of Georgia in 2012. She also has a bachelors in political science and philosophy. She wrote her the Avoiding Series while struggling through advanced statistical modeling and writing her thesis. She enjoys dancing and writing novels that keep you guessing until the very end.
She currently resides in Georgia with her boyfriend and two puppies, Lucy and Riker.
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