After years of hard work and determination, I am exactly where I want to be in life. As the top ranked Freestyle Motocross rider in the world, I have more money than I could ever dream of spending and gorgeous women throwing themselves at me in every city I land. I have everything I could ever want.
Everything except her.
While in Breckenridge for my best friend’s wedding, I was introduced to Dakota Shavell, a friend of the bride-to-be, and from the moment our blue gazes met, sparks flew.
What I initially intended to be a single steamy night together turned into a scorching two week road trip to New Orleans with a sassy-mouthed blonde. Being between her legs gave me a bigger adrenaline rush than I’d ever gotten from flying through the air while straddling a bike.
It was supposed to just be fun, a good time. I planned to walk away unchanged.
But it was more. Feelings I never intended to have got involved, and I’ll never be the same.
Yet, I still walked away.
Except now I’m injured and my outlook has changed. Priorities have become clear.
And I’m going back to reclaim her…to show her that together we can make the fire between us burst into flames.
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About the Author:
Erin Noelle is a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels. She has recently self-published her first novel, Metamorphosis, which hit both USA Today and Amazon best-selling lists, and is currently working on the sequel, Ambrosia, to be released later in 2013. Most nights you can find her cuddled up in bed with her husband, her Kindle in hand and a sporting event of some sorts on television.
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Slipping through the crowd, I luck out and find a bar in a dimly lit corner with no wait. I don’t have any money to tip the guy, seeing as though I was just standing in a wedding and my purse is upstairs in the hotel room I’m sharing with Meghan. I hope he recognizes and understands what the dress means as I make a mental note to escape and grab a twenty a little later.
“Good evening, madam. What can I get for you to drink? Wine, champagne, or perhaps something stronger?” The bartender greets me with a charming smile, his wandering gaze dropping down to my cleavage before returning to mine.
“The lady will have a glass of your finest Scotch whisky; Macallan’s if you have it. Two ice cubes. A water for me.” Before I get a chance to respond, a familiar, deep male voice answers for me, seconds before the heat from him penetrates my dress. He’s right behind me, not quite touching, but if I rocked back on my heels, we’d be pressed tight.
The bartender glances up at him over my shoulder, then back down at me, cocking his head to ask my approval. I roll my eyes at the ego of the one behind me, but the bartender only chuckles and pours me the glass, knowing I’m going to accept it. Pretentious asshole!
“You don’t strike me as a girl who fucks around with that frou-frou shit,” he rasps against the back of my neck, blanketing the exposed skin in goose bumps. He snickers at my physical reaction to his closeness, and I hate my traitorous body for a minute. Stupid nervous system.
I inhale a deep breath, which is supposed to clear my head before I speak, but instead, it’s saturated with him. And God, him smells spectacular. The perfect mixture of new rain and leather. Clean, yet rugged. Soft, but rough. All fucking man.
Shit, I’m in trouble.
“Thanks for buying me a drink at an open bar. I love a guy who goes the extra mile, sparing no expense,” I test him, curious to how this conversation is going to go.
Closing the small gap between us, he inches forward until the vibration of his low laughter resonates inside my ribcage. I grab on to the bar top, steadying my wobbly legs. The sexual portion of my brain fires into high gear as my near future, without clothes and filled with a best man, seems inevitable.
“Still got the attitude, Sunshine,” he growls, his lips faintly brushing against the shell of my ear with each word. Wrapping his arm around the front of me, he splays his gigantic hand across my lower midsection, his thumb resting over my belly button and his pinky dangerously close to my sweet spot. He presses against me in a way that makes my back bow and my ass pop against his zipper. “I fuckin’ dig that shit.”
My inner thighs clench together as the flood of desire surges to my pussy like hot fucking lava. He’s setting me on fire, and we haven’t even kissed. I’m not sure how to feel about my body’s overpowering response to him, but in typical Dakota-style, I’m not stopping it until I ride out the pleasure wave. This could be mind-blowing. Life-changing, perhaps.
“Yeah, Hulk, I know,” I manage to say, holding my gaze forward toward the bartender, who’s doing a poor job of hiding that he’s watching the exchange between me and Levi. “You told me during the ceremony.”
“I didn’t say a word during the ceremony,” he argues, stepping away from me as he drops money in the tip jar and grabs our drinks. I follow him over to one of the patio tables and sit across from him.
After a long, steady drink of the chilled drink, I rest back in the chair and stare directly into his animated eyes, keeping my face neutral as I church my fingers in my lap. “You did. You told me you wanted to see what I was wearing under this dress, and when I laughed at your ridiculous too-small tux, you threatened to punish me.”
He bends forward toward me, takes a long pull from the bottle of water, and lowers his voice. “And you told me you weren’t afraid of me, so why are you pulling back now?”
I’m unable to back down from a challenge, never have been, ever since I can remember as a kid with my sisters. They could dare me to do anything and I would. I love the thrill. The adrenaline. It’s almost as good as an orgasm.
His eyes twinkle with this knowledge as I lean forward to meet him nose-to-nose, less than an inch between our mouths. “You’re the one who should be scared, James Levi,” I whisper, a smirk creeping up my face. “I can be very addicting.”
Then, I tilt forward just enough to feather my lips across his before standing up with my drink. “Thanks for the drink, Hulk.” I wink, lifting the glass in the air. “I’ll see you inside.”
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