Sometimes the past becomes the present… And he’s hot, cocky, and British.
Leila Burke expected a lot of things when she joined her brothers on tour in Europe. He wasn’t one of them.
Jase Masters had no idea what to expect when he agreed to support Dirty B. on tour. She definitely wasn’t it.
It’s been eighteen months.
He remembers that night a little too well.
She insists she has no idea who he is.
He’s rugged and determined.
She’s wild and free.
Together, they’re a tornado.
Keeping it from touching down is the least of their worries.
“Hey, Jase?” I look up and down the hall through my eyelashes.
My tongue runs over my bottom lip. “You could come in. If you wanted.”
He exhales loudly, running his hand through his hair. “Leila… You’ve been drinking. Whether you say you’re drunk or not, this is your tequila talking.”
“What if it isn’t?”
“How do I know you’re not just saying it?”
“Never mind.” My stomach sinks. “I can take a hint.”
“A hint? I’m a man, love. I don’t give or take hints.” He walks toward me. “But I also respect you and I’m not going to go into your room and fuck you because numerous shots of tequila are telling you it’s a good idea.”
“Don’t worry.” My cheeks burn with humiliation. I’m blaming this on the tequila. He’s so insistent it is, so fuck you, tequila. Fuck you.
“Leila.” He grabs my arm before I can disappear fully inside.
I slowly turn my face back to him. The bright hall lights collide with the darkness of my room, casting shadows across the angular planes of his face. His eyes blaze at me, a bright yet stormy green that shows his inner battle.
“Don’t think I’m not coming in with you because I don’t want to fuck you.” He takes a deep breath and lets it out quietly.
“I want to fuck you again. I want to follow you into this room and fuck you so hard everyone on this floor will know what we’re doing.”
“So do it,” I whisper. “I’m not drunk, Jase. I know exactly what I’m asking.”
“You’re supposed to be avoiding me.” He leans in so his mouth hovers just above mine. “Remember?”
“It didn’t work out.” My mouth gets dry as his breath fans across my lips.
“So, pursuing me is your new plan?”
“Well.” I pause to swallow again, although there’s nothing but the hesitant lump in my throat that won’t go down. “I figure it’s the more enjoyable option.”
His lips twitch up on one side, and he laughs quietly. “Leila, love…”
I grab the front of his shirt, gripping it tight, and pull him down to me at the same time that I push up onto my toes. Our lips collide somewhere between us, and he freezes. His fingers twitch around my arm, but he lets go.
I get it.
I step back from him, my heart thudding and pushing the previous twinge of humiliation around my body until it latches on to every cell and swamps me. My cheeks burn, and I can’t look up at him, so I move back into my room, throwing my book in the direction of the bed.
He grabs me.
Shoves me inside.
Pushes me back against the door so it slams shut.
And kisses me.
Desire blurs my embarrassment as Jase’s mouth descends onto mine and he kisses me as though he’s starving. I wind my hands into his hair as he runs one of his up my thigh. His fingers ease under my dress, coming dangerously close to the top of my leg, and I gasp as he lifts it and hooks it over his hip.
Fuck me, he’s hard.
His cock presses between my legs, against my throbbing clit, and the pressure from his jeans sends a bolt of uncontrollable desire firing through my bloodstream.
He groans, swiping his tongue across the seam of my mouth, and I open for him, sending my tongue to meet his. They battle when he kisses me deeply and grips my ass harder, lifting me up the door a little. My hips buck against him, and he nips my bottom lip when I whimper.
Then he brings one hand between my legs and runs his thumb over the soft cotton of my panties.
Right over my clit.
Right along my pussy.
Now, my gasp is loud, and I break the kiss to control my breathing. Jase smiles against my jaw as he kisses it. His mouth leaves trails of hot kisses along it and my neck, his tongue swirling on my pulse point, his teeth grazing down my skin to my shoulder.
And, the whole time, his fingers are working their way beneath my underwear.
The moment his rough thumb brushes my clit, his lips find mine again, and he swallows my moan.
By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies – usually wine – and writes books.
Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.
She likes to be busy – unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.