Author: M.A. Stacie
Publication date: August 29, 2013
Kyran Reese is a man in control. Driven when it comes to work, focused when it comes to play. From his office to the chalk circle of Metro’s bare-knuckle boxing ring, his only thought is to win. That thirst heightens when Dale Porter enters his life. His brother’s assistant should be off-limits, but her witty comments and sarcastic comebacks have him desperate to get her between the sheets. After receiving an unexpected left hook, Kyran gets exactly what he wants, though he makes the rules very clear.
When Dale agrees to Kyran’s relationship stipulation of no labels, she’s sucked into a whirlwind of lust, money, and underground boxing. The agreement to keep their lust away from the office is discarded when rules are molded to suit their ever-increasing attraction. Dale fights her growing affection, trying to hide it even when the world around them spirals out of control. All too soon she realizes she can’t hide her true feelings any longer.
Kyran begins to wonder if he’s finally met his match, and with his family falling apart before his eyes, he turns to the two things he knows will keep him sane: boxing and Dale. Those crutches can’t last forever, and when Kyran finds it harder to function he is left with a decision he never thought he’d have to make.
Could playing to win mean playing for keeps?
Dale stretched and yawned. For a moment she wondered where the hell she was, but the creak of the leather as she moved on the couch, coupled with Kyran’s soft snores, restored her equilibrium.
He was sleeping on his side, chest pressed to her hip with his arm slung across her thighs. At some point he must have removed his hoodie because it lay discarded on the floor, and his torso was now naked.
Using her elbows, Dale propped herself up, cautious of making any big movements that might jostle him. Taking her time, she let her gaze drift over him, checking out every contour of his body. His biceps bulged even when relaxed, the definition of each muscle very clear. His tattooed arm stood out against the paleness of her skin—a stunning contrast.
Dale drank in his toned side and his abs. She continued looking down to the path of dark hair that disappeared under his jeans.
Kyran’s naked torso was a beautiful thing to wake up to, even though she could only see half of it. She took the time to have a good look while he was unaware, following the planes of each muscle that ran across his chest and abdomen. Licking her lips, she suddenly felt thirsty. He’d go crazy if he knew she was eying him up, but then he was going to anyway when he realized she’d slept here next to him.
Light spilled in from the huge windows, making it difficult for her to slip back into slumber. Dale checked her watch, noticing it was later than she’d first thought.
Needing to leave so she wouldn’t be late for work on her third day, she tried easing out from under Kyran. He grunted, gripping tighter onto her legs, and if she’d questioned his strength before, it was moot now.
Carefully, Dale tried to peel his fingers one by one from her thigh. Her heart beat double time when he tightened his hold. She looked up at his face and smiled, very nervous when she met his sleepy green eyes.
“Um, hi,” she said feebly.
His dark brows shot up. Kyran blinked three times before he looked down her body. She felt naked even though she still wore her brother’s sweater.
“See anything you like, Ms. Porter?” His voice was gravelly and low. Humor shone in his eyes but Dale didn’t fool easy.
“I w-was checking if you were okay. That’s all.”
He flexed his fingers on her thigh an instant before he pulled her down the length of the couch level with him. She met him face to face. Dale widened her eyes when he hooked her leg over his hip.
“Is this what you wanted, Dale?”
“I—”
“Lost for words?” He inched his fingers a little higher, pushing up the sweater and hem of her dress at the same time. He hummed while stroking his fingertips along the edge of her panties. Dale squirmed, so Kyran repeated the action.
“Why aren’t you mad?” she asked, amazed at his behavior.
“I’m currently asleep and therefore dreaming. I’ll leave the anger until I wake up.”
“Really?” She tilted her lips upward with humor. “What makes you think you’re not awake now?”
“Well.” He all but purred, hooking his finger into the neck of her sweater and tugging on it so that he could see underneath. “I very much doubt you’d allow me to do that. Or this.” He rolled her underneath him, skimming his hand down her side until he held her hip.
“Think again,” Dale replied in a breathy tone. They began rocking their hips against one another’s as they spoke, each roll causing her sex to clench.
M. A. Stacie is never without a book or her eReader. A voracious reader, with a love of sexy, yet angst ridden novels, she adores getting lost in new worlds. Her need to write did not grip her until after her second son was born, when her previous rambles became fully fledged stories.
She describes herself as one huge contradiction, and though not the most conventional of hobbies, she counts getting new tattoos as one of hers. Along with knitting, listening to loud music, and playing the Wii with her children. M. A. Stacie lives in the UK with her husband and three sons.
1 comment:
Thank you xx
Post a Comment