Synopsis
Grant
Manwhore. Adrenaline junkie. Lead singer of ContraBand. What
you see is what you get. I make no apologies for my actions, and by now no one
expects any from me. I live my life the way I want and as long as it pushes the
demons back, then I'm solid. I've never needed a chick for more than a good
lay. Why would I need just one when I can have a different one every night?
Until she walks into my world.
Aribel
Mouthy. Perfectionist. Princeton student. Chemistry major.
Yes, that pretty much describes me. Oh, and virgin. But I'm only nineteen, and
have more important things to concern myself with. What really matters is
finishing my degree and getting a good job. I’ve worked hard for what I want,
and do what’s expected of me. I don’t need anyone to get in my way.
Until he opens up my world.
But if I give you my world, whatever you do…don’t TAKE ME
for granted.
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Excerpt:
I sat up, reached out, and touched his jeans hesitantly. “I thought, um…that is, if you want…maybe we could try something else.”
Grant’s eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. “What do you have in mind?”
I turned crimson from head to toe. My hand slid up his leg, and over his dick. He looked at me like I’d just offered him the world. Maybe I had?
“Yes, whatever you want, yes.”
I laughed lightly. He was so eager, and I was so hesitant. What a pair.
As if seeing my uncertainty, he stood and stripped out of his jeans and the navy blue boxer briefs that apparently had held him in very tightly. My eyes bugged, and I tried to hide that fact. He was tall, and the correlation between that and size meant something…but damn.
He extended his hand to me and then scooted me off the bed. His lips found mine softly. “Calm down.”
He placed my hand on his dick, and with a breath, I started gliding it up and down the length of him. A groan escaped him at my touch. I couldn’t keep a smile from tugging on my lips.
“Like this,” he whispered, his fingers tightening around my small hand.
I gripped him harder and kept pumping. As I watched him, I couldn’t help licking my lips. He was so unabashedly sexual.
Grant ran a finger against my bottom lip. “You keep licking those lips, Ari, and I’m going to want them around my cock.”
I took a deep breath and then sank to my knees. I thought he stopped breathing.
About the Author
K.A. Linde graduated with her Masters in political
science from the University of Georgia in 2012. She also has a bachelors in
political science and philosophy. She wrote her the Avoiding Series while
struggling through advanced statistical modeling and writing her thesis. She
enjoys dancing and writing novels that keep you guessing until the very end.
She currently resides in Georgia with her boyfriend and two
puppies, Lucy and Riker.
Connect
with K.A. Linde
Facebook https://www.facebook.com/authorkalinde
Twitter https://twitter.com/authorkalinde
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