Something always brings him back to her…
Ryker Cage is a rough guy, with very particular tastes when it comes to sex. Rough, hard, and dirty is the extent of his repertoire. Never soft. He doesn’t have a clue about connecting with his sensitive side in the bedroom, or that find-your-inner-femininity bullshit. He fears nothing, except—his feelings for the sweet and innocent Molly Monroe.
The bad boy who lived next door claimed Molly’s heart long ago. Crazy, or not, she loves him. Always has. No matter what he does to push her away, nor how far he runs, Ryker is the one man she’ll never stop loving.
When Ryker finally finds his way back home, will he find the courage to claim what’s always been his? Or, will he be destined for heartache when someone threatens to take everything away?
(From Aug 11th to Aug 31st )
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The low, musical sounds of Debussy drifted through the speakers of Molly Monroe’s office, blending into the tap-tap-tapping noise of her fingers flying across the ergonomic keyboard as she typed. With a breath, the scent of the mahogany teakwood desk candle her secretary gave her filled the air, creating the perfect mood to lose herself in even though she was working.
She’d taken her strawberry-blonde hair down from the severe twist she always wore for work, untucked her silky blue blouse from her a-line skirt, and had even kicked off her Burberry pumps, settling in hours ago for a long, quiet night of undisturbed time. Now, she’d found her rhythm, making a dent in her to-do list.
When something dark flickered within her peripheral, she glanced up from her computer screen.
“Jack!” she yelped, her hand going to her heart in a kneejerk reaction to pat at the overactive thump going on there. “You startled me.”
“Sorry.” He leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of her office—the long, lean lines of him in his expensive black suit created the picture of masculinity and casual confidence. “I didn’t mean to.”
“I thought everyone left to get a head start on the long holiday weekend.”
“They did.” He gazed at her with eyes the color of warm cognac. “So why are you still here?”
Molly blew a piece of hair from her face before saying, “I could ask you the same thing.”
“The Aspin conference cut into my time this week, and I wanted to go over the financials for our board meeting next Tuesday.”
“Ah,” she mumbled. “Do you think they’ll give you a hard time about the expansion proposal?”
“When it comes to spending money, needed expansion or not, you know it’s better to have all our ducks in a row.” Molly nodded. Being the co-director of the non-profit agency for abused women, Horizons, she was always present at the board meetings, so she understood the kind of scrutiny the project would be under. “How are things going with the new case manager?” he asked. “Are you going to be able to give her the case load you took on, and go back to the business of running the department instead of giving Superwoman a run for her money?”
She sat back in her chair. “Penny needs eight more hours of training and supervision, then she can take over. So, yes.” Molly smiled. “I’ll be turning over everything to her next week and hanging up my cape.”
Jack Jamison straightened. “Sounds good,” he said. He glanced at his wristwatch. “You want to take a break and grab a bite of dinner with me?”
“I have to get my desk cleared.” Molly fluttered her hand over the stack of papers to her right. “If not, I may need to hang a danger of avalanche sign.”
“Come on.” He chuckled. “Work can wait. I’m feeling a bit ignored.”
“But we had dinner when you got back into town last night.”
Jack tilted his head, causing a piece of copper-brown hair to brush across his brow. “We had more than dinner. And, so there’s no misunderstanding here, I want to have ‘dinner’ every night with you,” he said in his tempting voice.
Molly blushed. “We agreed to keep things under wraps and casual. Every night, isn’t exactly casual.”
“I ordered your favorite, and it’s already in my office, waiting for us,” he said, not bothering to travel down their current discussion path.
“Chinese from Ming’s?” she asked.
Molly clapped and did a little bounce in her chair. “I can’t say no to Ming’s.”
She grinned. “Oh you do, do you?”
He nodded. “Why do you think I ordered take-out from them? I even got those dumplings you rave about.” Jack beckoned with his fingers. “So hurry up, before everything gets cold.”
With a quick save to her work, she powered down her computer.
“Ready,” she said, rolling her leather chair back.
When she stood and walked around her desk with stocking-free feet, Jack did a double take before the corners of his mouth started their ascent.
“You know….” His gaze trailed up from her pink-tipped toes to her face. “You sure pull off the bare-footed rumpled look well.”
Molly rolled her green eyes at him. “We agreed. No flirting at the office. Remember?”
Jack stalked toward her, mischief flickering in his eyes. “We are the only two here, Molls.”
Her thin, shaped brows beetled down into a frown. “You know I don’t want to be called, Molls.”
He curled his arm around her waist and pulled her body into his, then traced the seam of her lips with the tip of his tongue before whispering, “I want to kiss you, Molly-mine.”
His stiff manhood pushed into her lower belly. She shivered. “We shouldn’t—”
Her protest stopped when he pressed his lips to hers and dipped his tongue inside her mouth. He groaned, and soon, one of his hands secured the back of her neck, fingers twining into her hair at the base of her skull as they kissed.
The dweedle-deet of her cell phone had Molly pulling back.
“Forget about the phone,” Jack said, nose skimming along her jaw. “God, you smell good. Maybe I should eat my dinner right here.” He nibbled her earlobe, causing an outcropping of goose bumps to dance across her skin. “What if I spread you out on the desk, and suck duck sauce from your—”
Molly pressed her palms flat on the vest of Jack’s three-piece suit. “It could be important.” Her thoughts shot to her very pregnant, due-at-any-moment, older sister. “It might be about Mary.”
With a defeated sounding sigh, Jack let loose of her. “Fine,” he said. “Check.”
Molly turned, snagged her cell from the desk, tapped the screen, and bit back a gasp when she saw the avatar of Darth Vader.
He was the one man who’d become an expert at breaking her heart, and over the years, she’d turned into a woman skilled at letting him. Well, enough was enough. No more. Their crazy rollercoaster of a relationship, if you could even call it that, derailed one too many times. She was tired of waiting for him to get his shit together, and decided she was done being yanked into his gravitational pull. No more hopeful silliness. No more obsessing.
I should delete the text without reading it, she thought, biting at the inside of her cheek. She almost followed through. Her finger had been ready to do the deed, then for some insane reason, she gave in, tapped the message, and read.
What are you doing?
London Saint James has lived in many places, but never felt “at home” until she met the real-life man of her dreams and settled down in the beautiful Smoky Mountains of Tennessee. London lives with her husband and their fat cat who thinks he owns them.
As an award-winning, bestselling, multi-published author, London is living her childhood dream. She knew all the scribbling she did, that big imagination of hers, and all those clamoring characters running around in her head would pay off someday.