Wall Street Journalbestselling author Ilsa Madden-Mills and USA Todaybestselling author Tia Louise are back with an all-new romantic comedy filled with Southern sass and steamy scenes that will have you laughing out loud and fanning yourself. Pour the sweet tea and get ready…
“The best way to get over your sh**ty ex-fiancé is to get under a shiny new stud…”
As soon as Mr. Tall, Blond, and Handsome walks into that bar, I know he’s the hook-up I need to get over stupid Cheater Kyle.
A few stolen kisses in a dark hallway, and I’m pretty sure we’re headed for a home run—until he disappears without a trace.
Whatever. Men are all snakes in the grass, and I don’t need a new one anyway.
I resolve to forget about his perfect lips (and chest of steel) and instead focus on turning my Granny’s old beach house into a profitable B&B.
What I don’t expect is for him to show up the next day in my kitchen!
You see, my sexy mystery man is none other than Jax Roland, the drop-dead gorgeous home improvement star of The Right Stud, and he’s got an offer I can’t refuse.
With a suitcase in one hand and a hammer in the other, he wants to move in and renovate my old house while he films his new show.
But my roommate has secrets, and they threaten to rip our blossoming friendship—and possible love—apart.
When push comes to shove, is Jax really The Right Studor is he just another nail in the coffin of love?
Jax
At the top of the hill, the kitchen is lit up like a beacon in the night, and soft strains of Motown drift down to my ears. Ashton moves around the room, slow-dancing with a bowl in her arms.
Her lips move, and I think she’s singing along as she stirs. My stomach tightens as I watch her slowly sway in the yellow light. She’s wearing a thin dress, and her dark hair is tied in a loose ponytail at the back of her neck. A few strands hang in pretty curls around her face.
Her eyes close as she puts the wooden spoon in her mouth, and I swallow the need in my throat. They blink open again, and she smiles as if she’s thinking about something naughty. I can’t take it.
My scalp is tight. The blood surges hot in my veins, burning under my skin as I charge up the path. I’m up the stairs, crossing the porch to the screen door leading into the kitchen. The door slams behind me, and she spins around, hazel eyes wide.
“Jax… Where did you go? I was just thinking—”
“I had to stay away. I thought I could distract myself, refocus…” I close the space between us in two steps and pull her soft body against mine. My hands grip her too hard, my voice is too rough. “I can’t stop thinking about you, about how much I want you.”
Her eyes darken, and she reaches out to put the bowl on the counter. “But we have to work together. It could cause problems…”
“Tell me to stop, and I will.”
Every muscle in my body aches, waiting for her answer. Music floats in the air around us and everything is poised, waiting for what she’s about to say.
Her pink lips part. Her tongue touches her bottom lip, and she says the words I’ve been dying to hear. “Don’t stop.”
Our mouths are together before she finishes speaking. Tongues unite, curling and caressing. She tastes like wine and sweet sugar. I pull her lips, nipping her with my teeth, devouring her. She moans, and it registers straight to my rigid cock.
Reaching down, I grasp her smooth thighs, dragging her skirt higher and tracing my fingers along the line of her panties, dipping inside to feel her slick and wet.
“Jax…” She gasps, and I lift her off her feet, carrying her to the stairs.
Her mouth is on my neck. I feel her taste me as she follows a trail of burning kisses up to my ear before pulling it between her lips. I groan deeply at the sensation. The heat in my pelvis, the pressure, is blanking my mind. I take the steps two at a time, crossing the landing and pushing through my door, kicking it closed.
She’s on her feet, and our mouths are together again. We kiss like ravenous animals. Our hands are everywhere, fumbling with buttons, ripping at fabric. My jeans are long gone. Her soft breast is in my hand. Did I tear her dress?
She tugs at my shirt, and I step back, ripping it over my head. Then we’re together again, her body so soft against mine, cool to my hot, delicate to my strong.
I kiss her shoulder, biting her skin as she makes those delicious little moans. She touches my stomach, tracing her hand down to my length. I groan, threading my fingers in the ends of her dark, silky hair to give it a slight pull. Her chin lifts, and I cover her mouth again, drinking her in, consuming her desire like a drug…
Wall Street Journal best selling author Ilsa Madden-Mills writes about strong heroines and sexy alpha males that sometimes you just want to slap.
She’s addicted to all things fantasy, including unicorns and sword-wielding females. Other fascinations include frothy coffee beverages, dark chocolate, Ian Somerhalder, astronomy (she’s a Gemini), and tattoos. She has a degree in English and a Master’s in Education. When she’s not pecking away on her computer, she shops for cool magnets and fuzzy pajamas.Get more info on her website.
Tia Louise is a former journalist, world-traveler, and collector of beautiful men (who inspire ALL of her stories… *wink*)—turned wife, mommy, and novelist.
It’s possible she has a slight truffle addiction. And she will never look at a family restroom the same way again. Sign up for her newsletter here.
