Excerpt!
Rabbit
Eyes sparkling with mischief, she pushed away from the sofa, stepping toward me. “Do you want to see a magic trick?”
The only trick I wanted to see was my dick disappearing down her throat, but saying so would make me an asshole. Especially since she was drunk. I nodded. “Sure.”
She smacked a hand to her back, wincing as she overextended her elbow. “Wait. I have too many clothes on.”
She pulled off her borrowed tee and tossed it on the bed, sucker-punching me with a glimpse of creamy pale skin. Against all odds, I was trying to do the right fucking thing here and keep my filthy hands off her. Couldn’t she help me out just a little? Obviously not, because she reached up her shirt and unclasped her bra. Her breasts shifted into their natural position, hugged by her tightass shirt. Hard nipples tented the front of the fabric, making my hands itch and my mouth go dry.
She was just… perfection, and she was… fuck. She was removing her bra. Without lifting her shirt, she yanked one bra strap over an arm before struggling with the other. Then she pulled the entire black lace brassiere—it was too fancy to be called a bra—through an armhole and tossed it aside.
“See? Magic.”
The real magic trick would be me not devolving into my primate brain and fucking the hell out of her tonight. Just when the situation couldn’t get any worse, she palmed her breasts, lifting and lowering them as she sang some song about milkshakes and atoms.
And pizza.
It was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
Unable to help myself, I let my thumbs dip under her T-shirt and sample the softness of her skin.
She sobered. “That’s what I want for my last meal.”
“Milkshakes, atoms, and pizza?”
She nodded. Then she shook her head. “I don’t think I’m mentally cape. Cape. Capable of sharing this or any information right now. Besides, there are other things better suited to take up our time.”
Her hands dropped to my zipper, and my self-control snapped.
Then she puked all over me.
Author bio:
International bestselling author Harley Stone specializes in imperfect characters, realistic storylines, scorching hot sex scenes, and fun, witty dialogue. She's always up for a good adventure (real or fictional), and when she's not building imaginary worlds, she's dipping her toes into reality in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and their five sons and two dogs.
Rabbit:
They say combat trauma can be the noose you hang from, the cross you bear, or the cliff you scale to survive. But I was a f*ck up long before my Army enlistment and the resulting PTSD. Thanks to the veteran MC that took me in, I’m coping with my condition. Mostly.
Until her.
The Complete Package. She’s way out of my league. I shouldn’t have a chance in hell with Elenore, but I got a peek under her hood and the sexy scientist has a screw loose.
Good thing I’m the best damn mechanic in Seattle.
Elenore:
I never once contemplated murder until my sister showed up bruised and bloody on my doorstep. Now, my intellect has overridden my morals to create an extermination plan with a 98.3% success rate.
Relax, I won’t actually kill anyone. Probably.
But he might.
Who knew I’d find a kindred spirit in my self-appointed tattooed biker bodyguard? Rabbit’s alarmingly protective but the most fascinating person I’ve ever met. And the sight of his bare chest just made the lock on my bedroom door spontaneously combust.
A tempest on the outside with a soft, gooey center, he could be the one.
If I’m strong enough to love him.
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International bestselling author Harley Stone specializes in imperfect characters, realistic storylines, scorching hot sex scenes, and fun, witty dialogue. She's always up for a good adventure (real or fictional), and when she's not building imaginary worlds, she's dipping her toes into reality in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and their five sons and two dogs.
How many hours a day do you spend writing?
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