Title: Love, In The Fast Lane
Series: Carolina Bad Boys #2
Author: Rie Warren
Genre: Adult, Alpha Male Romance
Release Date: December 11, 2014
New York Times bestselling paranormal author, Nicky—Nick—Love is anything but successful in love. For years he’s lost himself in his writing career, but now he’s ready to get back to his rebel-boy roots. While restoring a motorcycle at Stone’s Auto Service, he meets the Wildcat of his dreams. She’s a shock to the system for the romance writer who doesn’t remember a damn thing about wooing a woman.
Cool-as-ice, Catarina “Wildcat” Steele is utterly untouchable until Nicky ignites a spark she can’t control. Their electric attraction explodes as Nicky pursues her, but he comes bearing the baggage of a family tragedy he’s hidden from everyone. He knows love has no guarantees.
Their passionate romance falls apart when Nicky discovers Cat’s secret rivals his own. The truth about her past reopens Nicky’s raw wounds and awakens a ghost he never laid to rest. He doesn’t know how to have Cat, and now he can’t trust her. Will they be torn apart . . . or tamed by love?
“Am I a fling?”
“You think I usually work this hard for a
simple fuck?”
Cat started to struggle away.
No way was she going anywhere but back to
my house, my room, my bed—fuck me—straight into my heart. “There’s nothing
simple about you. I like it that way.”
“So I’m difficult.” Her eyes narrowed.
I had to laugh. “Are you disputing that
fact?”
Closer
by NIN blasted out above our heads. Bass-throb-sex-beat. And yeah I wanted to
get closer to her. “C’mon, dance with me.”
She relented. And by relented I meant she
twisted her arms above her head and counterpointed that hot move with a reverse
gyration of her hips. Smoking hot sex in my arms. She slid from her leather and
tossed it aside, and goddamn if her nipple piercings didn’t glint beneath her
tank top.
A sneer-grin worked over Cat’s lips when
she turned around. Her ass undulated against my cock. Then she went lower. And
lower. All the way to the floor between my legs. Fuck . . . me. I grabbed her hair and hauled her back. All I got in
return was a lip lick and a slow wink.
Cat’s inked sleeves shimmered in the
flashing lights. Her husky laugh sparked adrenaline through my veins. When she
shimmied up my legs, she twined her arms behind my neck. We pumped into each
other to the dirty rhythm of the song. Her hips hit my cock with every note. Her
lips slid against mine, driving me insane.
I held her leg over my thigh, running my
cock up and down juncture of her thighs. Sweat clung to her hair at the
temples, and it dripped down the middle of my back. I gave in. I gave up,
pushing my hands inside her shirt, over her back, down to her swiveling ass.
The techno beat almost made me combust. The
lights flashed and we were one second away from dance floor fucking. I mashed
my hands into her hair. She moaned and cupped my cock. Groaning against the
side of her neck, I wished we were someplace quiet, private . . . and naked.
Someone whistled, off-tune, then a shoulder
bumped mine. I blinked my eyes open.
Ray. Fuck
if he’s gettin’ a piece of this action.
“What’d I say about Big Brother earlier?”
He nodded across the room.
The brothers were on the move toward us. I
wasn’t ready to be the star of Halloween 2013, slaughtered by Steele and Co.
Hustling Cat all the way to bay five, I whipped out my keys. The key stuck, the
lock groaned, the boys were getting close.
Cat kept watch beside me. “They’re—”
“What? Hit men? Assassins?”
The door finally opened. I tugged her
inside and pressed her against it.
Plunged into darkness, she laughed. “I was
gonna say not that bad.”
I made my way from her chin to her mouth,
my hands moving to gather her hair. A distinct thumping noise stilled me. Then
a long guttural groan.
Josh’s Camaro was in here. He’d brought it
in for a tune-up that morning. That’s why he’d locked up this bay. He couldn’t
have common riffraff fucking with his baby.
Aaand
it sounded like he was fucking his baby, Leelee. On top of the car. Behind us.
Turning my back to the wall, I slid down it
with Cat. My finger pressed against her lips, but she whispered around it, “Is
that—”
“How the hell do I get you out of this
get-up?” Josh grunted. Several seconds later, fabric tore.
Leelee squealed. “Mah dress! You dirty
rapscallion.”
Funny, she didn’t sound all that pissed
off, even when she continued, “Josh! There are still people out there.”
Cat gripped my hand. “Get us outta here.”
I fumbled for the door. It stuck from the
inside this time. “It won’t budge.”
Josh murmured, “Frankly, Leelee, I don’t
give a fuck.”
Well, at least he was keeping in character.
Sort of.
From where we hid, we couldn’t see them, but
we sure as hell heard them. The sound of wetness and sucking was an audible
turn on. Leelee’s wails grew louder, bouncing off the garage walls. Squeezed
against me, Cat’s breath blew hot and fast against my throat. Her hand drifted
down my stomach to the tight crotch of my leathers. I screwed my eyes shut,
beating my head against the wall when she coaxed my hard-on into a straight-up
position.
“Fuck.” Laying my hand on top of hers, I
pushed my hips into her grasp. The heel of palm rode down the stiff ridge. Her
fingertips explored my balls crushed within the pants.
Josh’s gruff tone overrode my groan. “You
like the ’stache, babe?”
“Yes, yes . . . mmm.”
“Don’t know what the hell Rhett Butler got
up to with his, but I’m thinkin’ it’s time for a little French tickler action.”
“Oh God,” Leelee whimpered.
“Oh fuck,” Cat moaned, her hand slipping up
the column of my cock. Throwing her leg over mine, she straddled me in one
swift motion. Her tongue snaked across my lips and sneaked inside my mouth.
We picked up the grinding where we’d left
off on the dance floor. She was hot between her legs, her pussy pressed against
me. Her hips moved in a sinuous dance. My cock throbbing with every motion, I
grabbed her waist and slid her back.
“Cat.”
Her gaze hit mine with heat that
reverberated all the way to my cock. A pulse of precome dripped down my aching
shaft, and it was so intense I felt it melt down to the base of my dick.
“I need you.” My whisper was more growl
than voice.
Her hands tightened on my biceps. “Not here.”
Like I was going to fuck her in a garage.
We’d save that for the second date. “My house.”
She scrambled to her feet, staying out of
the Josh and Leelee’s line of vision. “Now.”
“Promise not to hit me this time?” I
gripped the nape of her neck.
“What about scratching?”
All
down my back. Hell fucking God yes, Wildcat.
"Humor, romance, loveable characters, and hot sex. Talk about one hell of a winning combo." ~Hines and Bigham's
"If you like the good guy who just happens to be badass, who's not afraid to fall hard for the woman he knows is meant for him, then Josh Stone is at your service." ~Literati Book Reviews
"Drama, a really hot sexy as hell Southern bad Boy, LOL moments and my favorite - romance authors UNCENSORED." ~Lustful Literature
"If you want to laugh, cry and just enjoy yourself while reading a really great romance this is the book for you!" ~5 Rockin' Stars, Twin Sisters Rockin' Book Reviews
Coming: January 8, 2015
Steele, Into Your Heart (Carolina Bad Boys #3)
Coming: April 2015
Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavor, the Carolina Bad Boys series, is fun, hot, and southern-sexy.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website https://www.riewarren.com. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency. http://www.corvisieroagency.com/Saritza_Hernandez.html
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