One more night, p.15
One More Night,
p.15
STARS IN THEIR EYES
SNEAK PREVIEW
COMING SOON
AUGUST 2014
The fifth book in the New York Times and
USA Today bestselling Caught Up in Love series
Celebrity photographer-in-training Jess Leighton desperately needs to crash the wedding of the year. Snapping just one pic of the A-list Hollywood couple tying the knot will pay her way through school, but with security tighter than the bride-to-be's corset, she'll need more than her camera and smarts—she'll need help from her biggest rival, William Harrigan. Hot, motorcycle-riding Will is the last person Jess trusts, but he's her only ticket in. Good-looking, charming, and British, he's a triple threat. And he's got that sexy accent to boot. Soon, sparks are flying off-screen and in front of the cameras as they devise a plan to sneak into the ceremony. But when Jess's new celebrity client raises the stakes with a photo shoot of the maid-of-honor, she wonders if she's in over her head. Blackmail, Botox, and the worst The Breakfast Club remake in the world? It's all in a whirlwind week's work in Hollywood. The audience loves a happy ending, but in a town where everyone's acting and no one's playing on the same team, can Jess find her own happily ever after in time?
* * *
“Harrigan, this isn’t the part in the script where the heroine caves and agrees to go out with the guy.”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Oh, so I’m the guy in the script? Does that mean I’m the hero?”
“Well, you’re either the hero, the villain or the gay best friend.”
“Definitely not the gay best friend,” he said quickly. “Not that there’s anything wrong with that.”
“I already have a best friend, and she’s a she, so that part isn’t being cast for this picture.”
“But there are other roles still open? Like, could I be an anti-hero?” he suggested playfully.
Oh, this man was trouble. Too much trouble for my secret little predilection: casting the movies that played out in my head. Naturally, I had to keep going. “Possibly.”
“Or what about an accomplice?”
“That’s another role for sure. So is nemesis.”
“Ooh, I could be a good nemesis. Or maybe even a reformed bad boy?”
I suppressed a smile. He looked like a reformed bad boy. He talked like a good guy. He could be a bad-boy-makes-good. “It’s really up to the writers which role you’ll play,” I said.
“What do the writers think?”
“The writers haven’t decided yet.”
“So is that a yes to pizza? Because pizza is like sunshine. You can’t not like it.”
I looked at my watch. I looked at William. I looked at the sky. What were the chances I’d see him again? I wasn’t saying yes to a date. I wasn’t going to run into him at school. If I hadn’t so far, then it wasn’t going to happen now. Besides, I’d already proven I was faster on a stakeout than he was, so I’d smoke him as the competition.
He was the ice cream. I was the eater. I didn’t need the whole cone.
“Like a date?” I asked, as I furrowed my brow, deliberately wanting to keep him on his toes.
He smiled again. He was imperturbable. “Yes. Like a date.”
I stroked my chin, as if considering his request.
I did want a date. Very much so. I knew where it would lead, though. But a kiss? A kiss was just a kiss.
I leaned in, brushed my lips against his, and took him by surprise. He was startled, and didn’t respond for about a fraction of a second. Then, he kissed back. A tentative kiss at first, his lips soft as he slanted his mouth against mine. A starter kiss on the boardwalk while the sun fell in the sky, its lingering rays warming me. Then he gently placed a hand on my cheek, exploring my mouth more, running the tip of his tongue across my lips, then deepening the kiss in a way that made me very nearly forget where I was. I shuddered and tingles raced from my stomach to the tips of my fingers, lighting up my insides. The kiss radiated through me, dizzying and delicious, and a promise of so much more.
Stars in Their Eyes releases in late August and is now available to pre-order on iBooks. If you'd like to receive an email when Stars in Their Eyes and my other new titles are available, please sign up for my newsletter.
SNEAK PEEK OF
THIS WICKED RUSH
THIS WICKED RUSH
(Wild Rush Book One)
By Jessie Evans
Dear Readers: I am delighted to share an excerpt from one of my favorite romances, This Wicked Rush by Jessie Evans. This book is a steamy, high-octane love story, and if you enjoy my books I think you’ll like This Wicked Rush as well! Check it out.
* * *
Gabe drives to the end of my unprepared body and it hurts, but only a little. It’s not enough, not near as much as I want it to hurt. I want to be bruised by the force of our coming together. I want my body to feel as ravaged as my heart. I want to come screaming for mercy, not begging for release.
I dig my nails into his ass, forcing him deeper, faster, harder. I arch my back, shoving my hips into him until I start to feel sore and tender, and still I fight him for more. I score his skin with my nails, dig my teeth into his lip, his neck, the thick muscle of his bicep. I mark him, crying out in relief as he marks me back. His teeth dig into the sensitive skin between my neck and shoulder, and his fingers pinch my nipple hard enough for the sting to go rushing out along every nerve ending.
“Yes,” I growl into his ear. “Harder. Fuck me like you mean it.”
“I always fuck you like I mean it,” he says, shifting the angle of his penetration until his cock rams even deeper inside me, the thick head of him slamming against the entrance to my womb, sending sharp waves of discomfort coursing through me with each battering thrust.
But I don’t want discomfort. I want to hurt. I need to hurt.
“More,” I beg, wrapping my legs around his waist and lifting my hips. “Fuck me, Gabe. Please, fuck me. Don’t hold back.”
He grips my hips in his hands, taking control of my body, jerking me up and down his cock as he slams home again and again, taking me so hard and fast my breasts shake and my spine twinges from the reverberations of each brutal thrust. My jaw begins to ache and my temples pulse as every muscle in my body strains closer, closer, until I’m tearing at him with my nails, gritting my teeth against the dark wave of pleasure-pain rolling in to pull me under.
My orgasm slams into me with the force of a tsunami hitting shore. It is savage and cruel and beautiful, all at the same time. The pleasure is smothering, blinding. It sucks me down to the sea floor of myself, down into the utter blackness where there is no light, and no place to hide, and it is so cold and lonely there. It is barren and bleak and empty, a post-apocalyptic landscape where nothing will ever grow again.
No matter how fiercely I cling to Gabe as he loses himself inside me, down here, down at my very core, I’ve already let him go.
“God, I can’t,” I whisper, tears streaming down my face for the thousandth time tonight. “I don’t want you to go.”
And then I am crying my eyes out again and Gabe is holding me close and whispering that he loves me and that he’s sorry and that I’m beautiful and strong and he’s going to make everything as easy for us both as he can. He doesn’t promise everything will be okay; he doesn’t say I’ll be fine. He just keeps repeating that he loves me, and believes in me, and that he will love me forever.
“Forever,” he whispers into my hair as he cradles me close. “Until men are fairy tales, and the world goes up in a ball of fire.”
Finally, his soft voice and his hands stroking my back—as gentle now as they were ruthless a few minutes ago—calm me. I curl into him, resting my cheek on his bare chest, holding him close. My hip muscles are sore and aching and the delicate tissue between my legs is so bruised I know I’ll need to sit carefully tomorrow, but I’m glad. I wish I could keep these little hurts for the rest of my life, wish I could have proof of the man I love imprinted permanently on my body.
Learn more about THIS WICKED RUSH.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Thank you to Cynthia and Malinda for brainstorming; to Jen for guiding me through; to Kim and Tanya for their eagle eyes and fabulous tweaks, to my husband Jeff for all the details.
Thank you to Kelly for her wise guidance and savvy planning; to Sarah Hansen for the gorgeous cover; to Ali Smith for her wonderful photography.
Thank you to Lauren McKellar for the rock star editing.
Thank you to Kara for her attention to detail.
Thank you to Jesse for turning my manuscripts into books.
Thank you Cara and Hetty for cheering this story on.
Thank you Kelley for everything you do.
Most of all, thank you to my readers for asking for more.
CONTACT
I love hearing from readers! You can find me on Twitter at LaurenBlakely3, or Facebook at LaurenBlakelyBooks, or online at LaurenBlakely.com. You can also email me at laurenblakelybooks@gmail.com.
Lauren Blakely, One More Night
