Is this love or just a game?
Tori Rivera thinks Jamie McCade is rude, arrogant, and worst of all . . . the sexiest man she's ever laid eyes on. His reputation as a player is almost as legendary as his surfing skills. No matter how her body heats up when he's around, she's determined not to be another meaningless hookup.
Jamie McCade always gets what he wants. The sickest wave. The hottest women. And Tori, with her long legs and smart mouth, is definitely the hottest one. He knows Tori wants him-hell, most women do-but she won't admit it. After months of chasing and one unforgettable kiss, it's time for Jamie to raise the stakes.
Jamie promises that soon Tori won't just want him in her bed, she'll be begging for it-and he might be right. Somehow he's found the spot in her heart that makes her open up like never before. But with all she knows about his past, can she really trust what's happening between them? Is Jamie playing for keeps or just playing to win?
This book can be read as a stand-alone.
Book 1--Four Letter Word
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EXCERPT
Tori froze a foot away, blinking at me. She didn’t speak. If
she had a reason for coming in here, it looked like that reason just left her.
She seemed lost.
“Legs,” I probed, when she kept with the staring and not
speaking routine.
“Mm?”
“What are you doin’ in here, babe?”
I had no fucking idea what was going on, but unless Tori
wanted to watch some chick grind all over me, she needed to get what she came
for and step out.
She wet her lips. I watched her neck work with a swallow.
“You showed me your dick,” she stated.
I felt my mouth twitch. Fuck yeah. Breathing a laugh, I
relaxed back onto the bench, arms spread behind me and hands gripping the black
leather cushion. I tipped my head to the side. “See that impression is
stickin’,” I said. “What’s that got to do with this?”
“You showed me your dick after I flashed you. That was your
move.”
“Yeah.” I nodded. What the fuck was she getting at?
Tori smiled. Her sin-colored lips stretching slow. “This is
mine,” she said, lifting her shoulders as if this shit she was declaring wasn’t
a big deal, which it sure as fuck was.
This is hers…Oh, fuck me.
Fuck. Me.
Tori moved closer. Whatever smirk I was wearing pulled from
my mouth. That pressure built again, in my chest and lower. I shifted on the
bench.
“Legs,” I warned, my voice vibrating in my throat as I
watched her walk toward me. “What’d I say about takin’ this shit places you can
handle? Did you think this through?”
I was willing to bet she didn’t. If she had and knew how
this could play out, with her bent over and me buried deep, she wouldn’t be
back here.
“Shh.” Tori stopped in front of my knees. “If we talk, I
won’t go through with this,” she admitted, sounding anxious. “And I doubt you’d
be chattin’ up the girl who was supposed to be in here, so quit it. Just sit
there. Shut up. And keep your hands to yourself.”
“You know what you’re doin’?” I asked, looking up at her.
“’Cause in this room I’m allowed to touch, babe. Rules are out there.” I tipped
my chin at the door, keeping her gaze. “Not in here. In here, I’m
participatin’. You don’t like that deal, you better quit now and think of
another move, ’cause the second you start takin’ shit off, Legs, I’m on you.”
“Then I guess I don’t need to worry,” Tori shot back,
speaking with confidence and smiling again. The fuck did that mean? My brow
tightened. “Say again?”
“I don’t need to worry ’cause I’m not taking anything off,
meaning you won’t be on me. I’m just dancing.”
I stared at her for a beat. Then a laugh rumbled in my chest
as I thought about how fucked she was.
“What?” she asked, tilting her head all cute. “This is a
really good move.”
“Know it is. Not laughing ’cause of that.”
“Then why are you laughing?” She brought her hands to her
hips and studied me, looking on the verge of an attitude. Her eyes narrowed.
“If you think I need to take my clothes off to win this bet, then you are
mistaken, Jamie McCade. I know how you feel about me in this uniform. This is
gonna kill you.”
“Legs, hate to tell you this, but you’re wrong, babe. You
gotta worry.”
“And why’s that?”
I dropped my arms and sat forward, elbows resting on my
thighs. “You start dancin’ on me and I’m touching you,” I promised, watching
her blink. “You start dancin’ anywhere in this room and I’m touching you. You don’t
gotta strip, babe. I just threw that out there ’cause that’s where I thought
this was headed. Telling me you’re makin’ a move and you’re makin’ it in a
strip club, figured you’d be taking shit off, but honest to God, it don’t
matter. Like I said before, rules are out there. Not in here. Only way I’m
keeping my hands to myself is if I’m fuckin’ dead.”
“These are my rules,” Tori countered, bending down to get
closer. “And unless you want me to holler out for my new friend with the gold
tooth who looks like he eats narcissistic assholes for breakfast, I suggest you
follow them, Jamie.”
I chuckled, knowing who she was talking about. Dude made
sure I was clear on a few things before letting me back in here.
Something I wasn’t sharing with Legs. “And what are these
rules, babe?” I asked.
She straightened and snapped, “I already told you. Sit there
and shut up.” Tori put her hand on my shoulder and shoved, pushing me back
until I was pressing against the bench again. Then keeping her grip there, she
swung her knee up, braced it on the leather, and lowered herself onto my lap,
lifting her other knee and boxing me in with it.
I pulled in breath through my nose and curled my hands into
fists on the cushion. “And the touching?” I asked, voice strained as I stared
at the shape of her tits.
They grew closer as she leaned forward, her hands shifting
to hold on behind me, and my gaze snapped up to meet hers when her face got an
inch away.
“Beg for it,” she whispered.
My eyes flickered wider. Hers brightened with impending
victory.
No shit. Tori was gonna let me touch, but I had to call it.
I had to let her win.
I had to fucking beg.
Jesus.
Why’d she have to be so good at this shit?
I steadied my gaze, telling her as my head tilted back,
“Think I’ll just enjoy the ride.”
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