FORBIDDEN FLING
Wildwood, 1
Skye Jordan
Montlake Romance
Montlake Romance
July 26, 2016
Blurb:
Delaney Hart has come a long way from her wild youth, dating tattooed bikers at her father’s bar, The Bad Seed. But when his death pulls her back to Wildwood, California, she must stay to renovate the dive he left her. And also face the lies and secrets that sent her running ten years before.
When Wildwood’s chief building inspector, Ethan Hayes, shows up on the property, Delaney doesn’t recognize him. The last thing he wants to do is save the bar where his cousin died in a brawl. But the good boy from her past is all too willing to remind her of the bad girl she used to be. And one night of passion leaves them both in a compromising position.
The last place Ethan should be is in Delaney’s bed. Guilt, family pressure, and plans for a brewpub of his own make shutting down The Bad Seed his top priority…until his feelings for Delaney interfere. Because her future depends on the success of the bar’s renovation and his dreams are rooted in its failure, their forbidden romance may be destined for heartbreak.
Delaney Hart has come a long way from her wild youth, dating tattooed bikers at her father’s bar, The Bad Seed. But when his death pulls her back to Wildwood, California, she must stay to renovate the dive he left her. And also face the lies and secrets that sent her running ten years before.
When Wildwood’s chief building inspector, Ethan Hayes, shows up on the property, Delaney doesn’t recognize him. The last thing he wants to do is save the bar where his cousin died in a brawl. But the good boy from her past is all too willing to remind her of the bad girl she used to be. And one night of passion leaves them both in a compromising position.
The last place Ethan should be is in Delaney’s bed. Guilt, family pressure, and plans for a brewpub of his own make shutting down The Bad Seed his top priority…until his feelings for Delaney interfere. Because her future depends on the success of the bar’s renovation and his dreams are rooted in its failure, their forbidden romance may be destined for heartbreak.
Excerpt:
Skye's Bio:
Skye Jordan
is a pseudonym for New York Times
bestselling romantic suspense author Joan Swan. Skye’s novels are about
enjoying that little wild streak we don’t let out often enough. About those
fantasies we rarely get the opportunity to indulge. About stretching limits,
checking out the dark side, and maybe even acting a little naughty. They’re
about escape and fun and pleasure and romance. And, yes, even love, because
while wicked-great sex is good, happily ever after with wicked-great sex is
even better.
She lifted a hand to his face and
cupped his jaw. “You’ve been through enough. You have a great life here. A good
job, great friends, everyone in town respects and likes you, all the single
girls can’t wait for the day you look their way. I’m not going to come into
town for a week, or a month, turn everything upside down, and leave. That’s not
right.” She ran her thumb over his cheek and smiled. “So we’re good?”
Panic blipped through his chest. He
covered her hand with his to keep her from leaving, while he fought for
something to say that would fix everything and make her stay. But she was so
freaking rational, so goddamned logical, he was having a hard time finding
anything to work with. And with the bar, his grandfather, his family, his aunt,
and his job in the middle of this, he didn’t even know if he should.
“Delaney, let’s—”
“It’s not a big deal.” She curled
her fingers around his and lowered their hands. “And I’m not going to make it
one. I just wanted you to know so you wouldn’t worry. I’m good, so we’re good.”
She nodded. Smiled again. “Okay?”
Say okay and let
her go.
He shifted on his feet.
One little word.
Let her go. Right
your world.
“No.” He heaved a sigh and rubbed
his eyes. “No, it’s not okay.”
“Ethan . . .”
Her goddammit-I’m-barely-holding-on-here
plea was lost on him. He slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her warm
little body against his.
She pushed at his shoulders, leaning
away. “You know I’m right. You know it’s what you need.”
“No.” He lifted a hand and cupped
the back of her neck. “You are what I need.”
He pulled her mouth to his and
kissed her. She mewled, the sound frustrated, but her hands fisted in his shirt
and held him close.
Ethan softened his mouth, tilted his
head, and kissed her again. This time, she whimpered and her body loosened. The
feel of her melting against him pushed heat through his body. He moaned and
slid the hand at her neck into the silky strands of her hair, and when she
parted her lips to gasp, he pushed his tongue into her mouth.
She opened to him immediately,
hungrily, and met the stroke of his tongue. The warm, wet slide made everything
Ethan had been holding back—the lust, the confusion, the fear, the anger, the
want, the longing—break through his barriers like a flood. The wave wiped
everything from his mind but Delaney and brought profound relief.
With nothing else invading his
thoughts, he focused on the luscious cushion of her breasts against his chest,
the soft mound of her sex against his cock, the feel of her small waist beneath
his arm.
And, God, her mouth. Wet. Warm. Wild.
He tore out of the kiss, lifting her
into his arms and starting for the house. “Fuck, I need you.”
She bit her way down his neck, and
tingles spread across his skin, but at the same time she murmured breathless
attempts at logic. “We can’t keep doing this. Too complicated. If anyone finds
out . . .”
He pushed his door open, covered her
mouth with his, and let his tongue talk her out of leaving. By the time they
were inside, she had her legs wrapped at his hips, one hand deep in his hair,
the other working his belt open.
The thrill of winning her over
spread through him like fire. He kicked the door closed, and Delaney pulled out
of the kiss, breathless, both hands moving to the buttons of his shirt. Turning
a circle, he searched for the closest horizontal surface. But his kitchen was a
mess, his sofa was covered with laundry, and his dining room table was strewn
with paperwork.
Then her mouth found his again,
licking and biting and sucking, while her hands worked on his shirt, and his
desperation mounted.
“This is the last time,” she
murmured between kisses. “Not happening again.”
Screw that.
He turned a half circle and rested her butt on a wide, deep windowsill. Her
thighs opened, and she pulled him between her legs.
Purchase Links:
Skye's Bio:
When she’s
not writing, Skye loves to read, knit, craft, row, ride, and dabble in
photography.
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