There was to be a review alongside this post, but due to a mishap on my part, I wasn't able to have that completed at this time. So, a review will soon follow.
Network analyst by day, erotic romance writer by night, Vincent Buonfiglio is dealing with a work-in-progress that has gone colder than winter in his hometown of Ridgley, North Dakota. So what does a man who needs to write hot do to get cranking?
Search out a woman for a night of no-strings sex, of course.
But his choice of partner, Katherine "Kiki" Wyatt, manager of the Quikky Snak Gas & Lube, isn't biting. Flirting over his nightly chili dog is one thing. But a date? Sex? Not happening. Dangerously sexy geeks are off-limits no matter what they might have to offer outside the bedroom.
When an armed gunman changes everything, will deadlines, exes, and mind-blowing sex prove opposites don’t always attract or allow two unlikely lovers to pen a happy ending?
The bell had finally stopped ringing, so whoever it was must have gone. Just in case, Kiki opened the door. And stared. Probably drooled, too.
Even when she was half-asleep, her pulse leapt to warp speed at just the sight of Vincent. Damn, he meshed nerd and hot perfectly.
She fingered her bangs and discovered they were crushed to her head. Why hadn’t she stopped to brush her hair? And oh God, was she really wearing her rattiest flannel jammies?
“Hi,” he said, adjusting his stance to cradle his injured arm. He wore no coat despite the below-freezing temperatures, and the lumpy left shoulder of his Oxford shirt was higher than the other. She could see the outline of a thick bandage beneath the fabric.
Her throat suddenly felt too tight to swallow the jagged lump of candy cane. “Where are your glasses?”
Good Lord. Of all the things she could have said, she’d picked that?
“How can you see?” Kiki shook her head. So much for sleep clearing her brain. “Duh. Contacts.”
“I hate them, but they’ll get me through.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Can I come in, Kiki? Just for a minute.”
“Sure.” She waved him in and leaned against the door to catch her breath. She’d always reacted strongly to him, and the shooting hadn’t helped. She wanted to hug him, to run her hands over his body to make sure he was okay, check that he was whole and safe and hard—
Hard? Sweet mercy, what the heck was her problem? She didn’t own a vibrator, but maybe she needed to rectify that fact. This whole sex-on-the-brain thing was getting out of hand.
She didn’t notice he’d stepped toward her until his sneakers bumped her bare feet. Wet snow gushed between her toes as her gaze snapped up to his. Whoa. What she saw simmering there—namely blatant, undisguised lust—had her fingers clenching around the knob.
Unless she was very mistaken, he hadn’t stopped by for a neighborly pinch of sugar. No, the sugar Vincent wanted was a different substance entirely.
He threaded his hand through her hair, tugging her closer. Her body strained toward him, her breasts all but bursting the buttons of her flannel pajamas. She swallowed the last of the candy cane as he lowered his mouth to hers.
He didn’t ravage, as she’d expected. His mouth was soft and warm on hers, and the scrape of his stubbled jaw added to the thrill. She moaned and clung to him, her mind emptying like sand tumbling from a bucket.
Resist? Absolutely not. She wanted this. Him.
His tongue swept between her lips to tangle with hers, to explore her mouth so slowly and thoroughly that the snow melting between her toes had nothing on the melting happening between her legs.
Yes. The word sang through her, an acquiescence she couldn’t voice. It was as if she’d been frozen after Nico, and here was the heat, the life, that would finally allow her to come back to herself.
Thinking about Nico was her mistake. She stiffened, but Vincent was already drawing back, the gold rims surrounding his pupils burning.
“I didn’t intend to do that.”
She rubbed the back of her hand over her mouth. Her lips still sizzled. “I didn’t intend to let you.”
“I guess neither of us has control of our intentions.” He smiled slightly, his gaze wandering from her messy hair to her old pajamas. The desire warming his eyes never waned.
Kiss me again. Everywhere.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
USA TODAY bestselling author Cari Quinn wrote her first story--a bible parable--in 2nd grade, much to the delight of the nuns at her Catholic school. Once she saw the warm reception that first tale garnered, she was hooked. She attempted her first romance in junior high, long before she'd ever read one. Writing what she knew always took a backseat to what she wanted to know, and that still holds true today.
Though she also fires up her computer as a graphic designer, proofreader and editor, she can't resist the lure of disappearing into a world of her own creation. Now she gets to pen sexy romances for a living and routinely counts her lucky stars.
The only thing she loves more than writing is hearing from readers! Please visit her at her website at http://www.cariquinn.com
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