Genres: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance, Taboo
Publication date: February 19th 2019
Genres: Contemporary, Erotica, Romance
Forbidden fruit never tasted this sweetâ¦
The world knows Samantha Brooks as the violin prodigy. She guards her secret truthâthe desire she harbors for her guardian.
Liam North got custody of her six years ago. Sheâs all grown up now, but he still treats her like a child. No matter how much he wants her.
No matter how bad he aches for one taste.
Her sweet overtures break down the ex-soldierâs defenses, but thereâs more at stake than her body. Every touch, every kiss, every night. The closer she gets, the more exposed his darkest secret.
Sheâs one step away from finding out what happened the night she lost her family. One step away from leaving him forever.
The memory of our last talk heats the air between usâabout condoms and sex. And the way he walked in on me when I moaned his name. God. Iâm not sure I can stand another talk like that. âIâm not naive, Liam. I know you took me in because I didnât have anywhere else to go.â
A muscle in his jaw ticks. âThat wasnât exactly the reason. And even though I didnât know you before I took custody, Iâve grown to care about you over the years. If I didnât state it clearly enough, then the fault lies with me. I wasnât raised to showâ¦ affection.â
I stare at him, incredulous. Affection? Itâs a cold comfort to a girl whoâs always wanted the surety of forever. And the word might as well be alien to a man like him. âIâm going to tour the country. The world. Iâm leaving, Liam.â
He looks away. âChrist.â
Unease moves through me. âDid you really think I wouldnât come back?â
âI donât know why you would want to.â
âBecause I care about you.â Liam is six feet of pure muscle and hard will. Thereâs no way someone like me could go up against him and win. Except that when I take a step closer, he tenses. Another step and he goes still as stone. It gives me a sense of power, enough that I take the final step. âI care about you even though youâre controlling.â
Thereâs only an inch between the ruffle of my blouse and the flat of his abs.
âYou think Iâm going to apologize for keeping you safe?â he mutters. âYou think I give a damn that youâre mad at me as long as youâre in one piece? Thatâs the only thing that matters.â
âBecause you think of me like a daughter?â
He shakes his head slowly, not breaking eye contact. âNo.â
âNo?â I whisper.
âWhen I walked in on youâ¦â His voice is hoarse. âI didnât think of you like a daughter.â
I should probably be horrified that he would think about me in any way other than family, except Iâm the one who started it. I take a step closer, and thereâs nowhere for him to go. Heâs already backed up against the wall. This big, strong man who could probably make a whole army quakeâor at least a battalion. And heâs cornered by me.
This close I can see the green of his eyes, so dark theyâre almost emerald, flecked with gold. A scar bisects one dark eyebrow, probably a scar from something terrifying and deadly.
âHow did you think of me?â Iâm afraid to know the answer, but Iâm even more terrified of never knowing. Of being a nameless, faceless body in that writhing crowd, hooking up with a stranger when the man I really want is standing right in front of me, inches away, his breath a feather-touch on my forehead.
A small shake of his head. âItâs not right.â
Iâm not sure what right and wrong mean when it comes to us, but I know what it means for music. Someone can play a piece with perfect timing and notation. They can hit every single note, but it still wonât have passion. That part comes from inside. âThen be wrong with me. Donât make me do it alone.â
I push up on my toes, pressing my lips against his in a blind, artless kiss. Iâm off center of his mouth, kissing the corner. He stands still as a statue, letting me wobble on my heels, letting me fall against him, only my broken kiss to balance me.
Grief beats against my ribs. Heâs going to make me do it alone. Of course he is. Iâm always alone. A small sound escapes me. Loneliness. Pain. It vibrates against his mouth, sound made real.
He jolts as if Iâve shocked him. Something unspools inside him. I feel it in the inch of air between us. And then I feel it in my lips. He takes over the kiss with shocking possession, his hand behind my head, his body turning us so Iâm against the wall. He looms in front of me, blocking out the view. There are no vinyl records on the wall, no bass thrumming through concrete and steel. Thereâs only him, only this. How is it possible that only a few minutes ago I felt powerful? I didnât know what this would be. I couldnât know the way Iâd revel in surrender.
His tongue touches the seam of my lips, a pure electric sensation that makes me jump. I part my lips in surprise, pulling in the scent of himâman and earth, salt and sea. He tastes elemental. His tongue swipes the tender inside of my bottom lip. Itâs more sensitive there than I could have imagined. I feel the slickness of the caress all the way in my core. My thighs clench together.
So careful. So wary. I touch my tongue against his. Heâs the one who groans.
His hand fists in my hair, creating a delicious little ache. âDo you know what youâre doing to me?â he breathes, and I try to shake my head; it only makes him pull harder.
âLiamâ¦ I needâ¦â Itâs like the bedroom when he walked in on me, my hips rocking, mindless, hungry. Worse than that. My whole body is moving restlessly against him.
He tears himself away with a hard sound. Only an inch away. A rough tremor runs through him. Itâs a small comfort, knowing that Iâve moved this man. Knowing how much control he has, knowing itâs eroded. But only a small comfort. He still leaves me panting against the door.
âIâm supposed to protect you,â he says, his voice taut with guilt.
Skye Warren is the New York Times bestselling author of dangerous romance. Her new book ESCORT is out now!
âESCORT is perfection only Skye Warren can deliverâa poetically erotic tale of exquisitely damaged characters, devastating secrets, revenge and redemption.â â Samanthe Beck, USA Today bestselling author
âHypnotically romanticâ¦this book reads like a sensual dream and I didnât want to wake up.â â Tessa Bailey, New York Times bestselling author
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