Synopsis:After a tragic incident in Afghanistan leaves Master Sergeant Nathan Ryker the only man standing in his tight-knit team, he spirals into an alcohol-and-sex induced escape. A call from his lifelong buddy pulls Ryker from the shadows with a request for help with his stunt company’s latest blockbuster. If Ryker can survive the next three weeks of leave and get back to his remaining men, he might just be all right. But a sexy woman who can take his mind off his trauma is too hard to resist, and when he hooks up with Renegades’ sultry, snarky office manager, his sanity takes a backseat to his first glimpse of a future he isn’t sure he deserves.
Still reeling from a bitter romantic betrayal, Rachel Hart wants nothing more than an uncomplicated hookup. So when the mysterious Nathan seduces her with a little dirty talk and one delicious kiss, Rachel drowns all her good sense in a Mandarin and soda and gives herself over to a night of sexual bliss. But her memories tarnish in the morning light when Rachel discovers his real identity and his link to Renegades. Her job and her friends are the only thing holding her life together, and she won’t be ruined by one sultry night with this damaged and dangerously sexy man.
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Rachel’s legs weren’t working right. Her head floated. And an extreme sexual hunger consumed her like fire. Her clit and her pussy throbbed to the beat of her heart, swollen and sensitive. Wetness slipped along her folds.
She was intensely, wickedly, insanely turned on as she followed Nathan toward the front of the bus, his bags over one shoulder, his free hand wrapped around hers in a way that made her feel safe when she knew very well she shouldn’t.
“Thanks,” he told the driver, pulling a few folded bills from his pocket for the woman. “Have a good night.”
“You too, now.”
Nathan moved down the stairs, then turned and gripped Rachel’s waist to help her off the van, setting her gently on the ground. All they were going to do was get in the room and fuck, yet she couldn’t remember the last time a man had done something so simple and thoughtful for her.
Then again, the alcohol was definitely hitting, and her memory might be a tad…selective.
Nathan held the hotel’s main door open for her and kept his hand on her lower back as she passed through. Rachel directed him toward elevators she’d noticed when she’d come in earlier to pick up the room key, and he pressed the elevator’s up button.
Rachel stared at the lighted arrow, and for the first time since she’d taken a seat next to him at the bar, she had a real second thought. This was terribly spontaneous. Crazily impulsive. Not like her at all.
“Pays to be in the stunt business, huh?” he said.
Nathan’s voice pulled her fuzzy head back from the random thought. His fingers skimmed down her spine, then back up as his gaze swept the lobby. Damn, he was so good-looking. He didn’t have that movie-star quality that many of the Renegades did—first and foremost, Jax and Wes. Nathan was far more rugged, which only made him more attractive to her.
He also kissed like the devil, had a body like granite, and used his hands like a god.
The elevator doors opened. “Finally,” he said, stepping into the empty car, pulling Rachel in beside him. “Is it just me, or did that take forever?”
She laughed, but the sound touched her ears like a giggle. A giggle? And repeated his words to her in the van. “That took forever.”
As soon as the doors closed, she turned to Nathan, backed him against the wall, pushed up on her toes, and pulled his head down to kiss him. He opened to her, drank her in, his tongue tasting in erotic sweeps. His arms wrapped her hips, his hands grabbed her ass and pulled her against his monster erection.
She pried her hand between them to stroke his cock, hard and long and thick beneath his cargo pants. He growled into her mouth and broke the kiss with a desperate, “Baby…”
“I probably should have mentioned,” she said, stroking him, “alcohol makes me horny.”
He chuckled, the sound rich and low. “And here I thought it was all me.”
“Oh, it’s all you. The alcohol only helps me get it out.”
“Makes inhibitions evaporate?”
“Yes, in direct proportion to the amount of alcohol.”
His eyes were fiery. His grin seductive. “I’m sure there’s a minibar in the room.”
The insinuation both thrilled and unnerved. “Why? What did you have in mind?”
The elevator stopped, and the doors parted. Nathan held the door with one foot and gripped Rachel’s face with both hands, his gaze intense and serious . “Anything, and everything, you’ve ever wanted or dreamed of.”
“Wh—” The word dissipated before she could get it out. “What…what if I haven’t…dreamed of anything?”
His grin grew. His eyes softened. “I can always introduce you to a few of my own fantasies.”
Wings brushed the inside of her torso, flapping wildly until Rachel felt both giddy and dizzy. And nervous, wondering if this man might be too much to handle. Something she should have been thinking about back at the bar.
About the Author:
Skye Jordan is a pseudonym for New York Times bestselling romantic suspense author Joan Swan.
Skye (aka Joan) lives on the central coast of California in the heart of wine country with her husband and two daughters. As often as possible, she retreats to a hotel with critique partners for a power-writing week where much drinking, laughing, and yes, even working, ensues. When she’s not writing, Skye goes to breakfast with her hubby, attends her daughters’ barrel races, and spends a lot of time with her own horse, Riddle…while her two dogs, Paxton and Indie, tag along. She also loves to read, knit, craft, row, ride, and dabble in photography.