Stranded in the friend zone, Orion Lance has been in love with his best friend Clo since high school and unable to work out how to get her to see him as more.
After catching her husband cheating, Clo turns to her best friend Orion for support, only to find he wants more than she’s willing to give.
While Orion shows her that not all men are pricks, and not all roses have thorns, Clo must find a way to let go of the past and open up to a second chance at love.
Birdie Lance isn’t a victim. She’s an idiot who let a boy get too close. At least that’s how she sees it. It's easy to not make the same mistake again — she doesn’t let anyone in anymore.
After the accident, Dr. Drake Barclay threw himself into his obstetrics practice, and uses boxing to keep the demons at bay. A recovering addict, he is barely existing, until he meets the bombshell who pushes all his buttons.
Two people coping with the traumatic scars of their past find an irresistible bond that may just heal them both.
"Then I’ll take tonight." Sliding a hand under her shirt to pull her flush against me, I reached behind her and unlocked the door. Her skin was smooth satin under my fingertips. Not willing to give her another chance to change her mind, I owned her mouth, tangling our tongues together and tasting the salty tang of the tequila we'd shared earlier. A soft gasp wisped between us, then her hands were tangled in my hair, her body pressing into mine. Turning the door handle, I sent us crashing into the house, only our tight embrace and the wall keeping us from stumbling to the floor. The way she clung to me made me smile. She might say she didn't trust men; that she couldn't trust her heart to anyone, but it wasn't true. Not when she was with me.
Settling both hands on the small of her back, the dip of her spine under my fingers, I continued my exploration of her mouth. Despite her tentative, fluttering movements, I could sense the wildness in her, the desperation I would pull from her.
Waltzing my lips along her jaw, I left a trail down her throat to her collarbone. When I sucked the fragile skin into my mouth, clamping my teeth around it, she shuddered and let out a low moan. The bitterness of her perfume danced on my tongue, but it was the dark flushing of her skin that had me grinning. It was the first of many times I would mark her as mine, even if it were the only one she would physically see. For days to come, when she looked in the mirror and saw my mark on her skin she'd be pulled back to this night and her body would ache for me.
Desperate hands tugged at my shirt, and I whipped it over my head, discarding it while she struggled with my belt. Catching her hands in one of mine, I undid the buckle and pulled it free, undoing the snaps on my jeans. "In a hurry, babe?"
"Did you forget, I've seen your package? What girl wouldn't be in a hurry to find out if it's as good as it looks."
"You've seen my…" I raised an eyebrow as I searched my mind for that particular memory. "…package?"
She nodded, her lip slightly curved. "I always wondered…"
"What did you wonder?" I gripped her chin and skirted my lips over hers.
"Even flaccid, it looked…too big. How do you fuck a girl with a weapon like that?"
It was dark when I woke, and I rolled onto my back to see the flashing light on my phone. Picking it up, I stared at the screen. I can’t stop thinking about how you melted when I kissed you. I know you’re scared, but I’m not going to let you go.
I threw my phone down on the bed. I wasn’t going to answer. He’d get the hint and leave me alone. Chewing my lip, I snatched it up. You can’t have me. I’m too screwed up.
My phone beeped seconds later as his next message came through. Everyone’s screwed up, Birdie. I always get what I want.
Sitting up, I turned on the light. How was I supposed to reply to that? Not this time.
In the kitchen I made a cup of tea and read Mellie’s note she’d made out of magnets on the fridge. She never had trouble telling me when she was going out on the town. I remembered watching her cut out the words and glue magnets to the back when she first moved in. Of course, a few of them were code words, but they were the ones I found on the fridge in the morning after she’d had a big night out. Savoring the heat of the cup in my palms, I went out onto the deck. As hard as I stared at my phone, his next message wasn’t coming through. Maybe he’d given up. I hunched over as my chest tightened, and sipped my tea. Couldn’t he have tried a little harder?
My phone vibrated on the table, and I picked it up. I can see that this isn’t easy for you, but I am going to have you, all of you. And when you finally give in, I am going to own that mouth of yours, that body, and your soul. You will belong to me and only me.
What the hell? I crossed my legs as heat poured through me. He already owned my mouth. His kiss had assured I’d never want to kiss another man again, and I could only imagine what he wanted to do to my body. Wasn’t that the reason I didn’t want to see him again? But, my soul?
Did he want me to fall in love with him? I bit my lip. I was attracted to him in the most primitive of ways, but I had never been in love, and I didn’t plan to start now. Besides, he’d said it himself. He wasn’t the type of man who was interested in a relationship.
I don’t do sex. I texted back and sat my phone on the table. A minute later, it rang, and I answered.
"You don’t do sex, huh?"
"Nope." I chewed my thumbnail.
"Give me your address, and I’ll show you just how much you do sex, darlin’."
"You’re kidding, right?"
"No," he growled. "I fucking want you. You’ve had me hard all day, woman, and from the way you looked at me after I kissed you, I know you want me too."
"I’m not having sex with you," I argued, and gave him my address anyway.
He chuckled. "You may fight it, but deep down you know it’s only a matter of time before you give in."
"Not going to happen." I hung up on him, and he didn’t call back.
My cup empty, I turned off the lights and made my way back to bed in the dark. The thundering roar of a motorcycle filled the silence, and then it was gone. I released the breath I’d been holding. It wasn’t him. He wasn’t coming.
The knock on the door startled me and I jumped. I was wrong, he was here, and I was in more trouble than I’d ever been in before, because as much as I told him I didn’t want him, I did, and it wouldn’t be long before he broke through what control I had left. He was already too close. I opened the door, and he pushed his way inside, gathering me into his arms. His mouth held mine captive while he squeezed my ass. Sucking my bottom lip between his teeth, he pulled my mouth open so he could slip his tongue inside, and I met him tentatively as he backed me up against the wall. His demands thrilled, sending heat through me, and I pressed into him.
Sparks shot through my skin, pooled in my belly, and soaked my panties. My breath fell heavily with each rasp of his tongue against mine, and each flex of his fingers on my ass. Winding my arms around his neck, I pushed my hips up to his and felt his hard bulge between us. I was staggered by how quickly I succumbed to him. My insides quivered and grew tight until I couldn’t breathe. He was devouring me, and it felt right in his arms, but I wasn’t ready to let him make this choice for me. Tearing my mouth from his, I squirmed in his grasp. "Let me go."
Misti Murphy writes about smart, sexy women and the dirty talking alphas that love them. She also enjoys emotionally torturing them. Damaged alphas with a twist are her favorite.
When she's not writing, she's enjoying her own happily ever after with her teacher hubby, four hellions, and two fur babies. She has a weakness for chocolate, procaffinating, and stalking Facebook.