Laugh, cry and fall in love in the newest standalone within the
Mathews Family Series. Meet Ryan and Carrie Ann in
A Taste of Summer. #SummerNeverTastedGood
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1OgoKLx
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/1gJ1MCi
Most people know Hollywood heartthrob, Ryan Summer, as Ryan, no last name required. But once upon a time, he was just Summer to Carrie Ann—before a decade of blockbuster hits skyrocketed his success into superstardom.
Summer was smart, gorgeous, and cocky as hell. Nothing was out of his reach. Not even Carrie Ann Lowell. He was the love of her life—until he shattered her heart. Their breakup left more than a profound rift in her soul. It crushed her.
When Carrie Ann’s college flame forces his way back into her life, his dirty-talking, bold self-assurance re-ignites a passion she thought had long since been extinguished. Carrie Ann didn’t believe in second chances.
Not even for him.
No matter how deliciously tempting.
With sparks flying and hidden truths unraveling, will Carrie Anne be able to deny her desires to save herself from another heart break?
“Summer, are you awake?” Scoffing at her own ridiculous question, she eased a hip onto the edge of his mattress so she could reach him.
He stirred restlessly, rearranging the arm above his head.
Carrie Ann extended an arm, the flat of her hand hovered above his chiseled physique, deciding where to touch him. The outline of muscular thigh bent to the side beneath the silky fabric. Temptation, powerful in its force, pulled at her hand like a magnet.
A shiver ran through her.
Warily, she touched her icy fingers his warm shoulder. “Summer?”
His eyes jarred wide with alarm. Summer lunged upright, swiftly grasping onto her upper arm. “Carrie Ann?”
“Yeah, it’s me,” she croaked. A fine layer of perspiration spread across her skin, dampening the thin material of her cotton tank top.
Mere inches separated their faces. He looked bewildered, blinking repeatedly to see if she was real. His hands wandered to the underside of her jaw, cupping her face. The confusion in his eyes replaced with lust. His fingers delved into her thick mane, gently clasping the base of her skull. The pressure felt divinely good.
“You came to me?” Hope clouded his whisper. His moist breath, rough and strained, drifting across her cheek on a billowy cloud.
Unable to make a coherent sentence, she sat silent, panting and quaking from head to toe. Her hands came to his arms, securing to his wrists, uncertain if she wanted to hold them there or pull them away. Aspen scampered from her lap taking ownership of his pillow.
Thunder roared through the black sky in a long drawn-out rumble, delivering a strike of lightning beyond his window. Her clammy fingers tugged at the dusting of dark hair covering his wrists as she squeezed, digging her nails into the flesh.
Summer dropped his forehead against hers. All the air pushed from his lungs in a deep, disillusioned sound of sympathy.
“Christ. It’s the lightning?” He drew her into his chest, arms closed around her, stroking her hair and back. “Come here, Red.”
She nodded weakly and went limp against him. Gripped by fear, her arms quaked violently, curling around his shoulders. Carrie Ann shimmied to get closer. Summer held her safe and secure, offering constant reassurance. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I got you, Red.”
Over the years, she’d tried cognitive behavioral techniques to calm her fear: soothing massages, visualization exercises, talking herself through the panic, but nothing calmed her nerves like the feeling of Summer’s embrace.
Clutching her shoulders, he coaxed her a few inches from his body. “You want to climb in here with me?”
Glimpsing downward at the sheet pooled around his very naked hips, she shook her head hotly. Her breathing slowly began to regulate, anxiously waiting for the next strike. She trembled from head to toe, peeling her nails from the muscles flanking his spine. “W…will you come sit with me in the living room?”
Fisting the covers, he moved around her and stepped out of bed. Naked. Staring straight ahead, her lips parted releasing a small gasp, completely mesmerized by the sight of him, semi erect getting harder before her eyes. A shiver tingled up her spine, feeling the ghost of his hand slipping firmly into the mass of hair at her nape. She knew she should look away, but loneliness left her yearning for comfort.
Taking notice of her fascination, he paused. A quirk ticked the corner of his mouth. Summer caressed the side of her face, pinching her chin between his finger and thumb. Her mouth willingly opened a little wider.
“It’s not like you haven’t seen it before,” Summer repeated her words.
His voice slipped over her like the comfort of a favorite blanket, pulling a faint groan from her throat. Begrudgingly, she flicked her eyes upward finding his, but only for a moment. Her gaze dropped to the thick, jutting column protruding from a perfectly trimmed nest of dark hair. Twinges of need stabbed at her core, her chest needled with warning, and her mouth watered.
A flash of lightning weaved across the sky, slamming to the ground. The thunder ricocheted throughout her body. Summer pulled her to her feet and into his arms. The hot, solid length of him, rested against her abdomen with only a thin barrier of cotton between them.
“Your choice, Red. Would you like me to get dressed? Or if you’d prefer I can undress you. We can lay wherever you’d like. In front of the fire, my bed, your bed, the couch, the kitchen table...Hmm? It’s your call.”
The double question struck low in her abdomen, wickedly fingering a pleasure cord as if plucking pizzicato on a cello. The internal vibration wracked her head and heart in confusion. She’d built a barricade around her heart, safeguarding her raw emotions. Being near him the last few days chipped away at the armor. She didn’t know what she wanted. That’s a lie, Carrie Ann Lowell. You know exactly where you want him. As she instinctually licked her lips, she could feel the look of torment etching over her face. Her heart felt as if it were sitting on the stump outside waiting to be chopped in two, but her fucking vagina was ready to give the acceptance speech of a lifetime. I’d like to accept this penis…
He spoke into the curve of her scalp. “Let me throw some pants on and we’ll go lay on the couch. Okay?”
She nodded hotly, staying right beside him as he stepped into his walk-in closet.
“I don’t want to be your friend, Carrie Ann.” She heard him murmur. He raised to his feet, playing with her fingers before letting them loose, dropping his hand at his side. “I want to be your everything.”
“You own my heart. You always have. Everything else has just been white noise filling in the blank spaces.”
“Did it hurt?” he asked, his voice no more than a whisper.
Her face screwed into a painful crumple of emotions. She shook her head and then nodded. A single tear rolled from the corner of her eye, catching on the pillow. “It hurt in here the most,” she admitted in an ache of a whisper, bringing his hand over her beating heart.
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About the Author
If Beverly isn’t at home riding her spin bike, you’ll find her spinning richly emotional and sinfully sexy romance stories.
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*** GIVEAWAY ***
In honor of Carrie Ann's favorite line Beverly will be giving away this Triple F necklace and a $50 Amazon GC.