JANUARY 23, 2018
ABOUT
A new sexy standalone from Lisa Renee Jones
Ex-special forces, Jacob King, is a man who keeps to himself, having learned the hard way that letting people close to you, trusting them, might just get you killed. A lesson he learned when members of his Special Ops team turned dirty, while others, men he considered friends, died. He made them pay. He made them hurt. He put them in jail. And so he doesn't trust anyone anymore. He keeps his women hot and fast, his friends few to none, and his clients through the elite Walker Security at a professional distance, but safe. It works for him. Until it doesn't. His newest job should be simple and cut and dry. Jewel Carpenter, the daughter of the CEO of Carpenter Enterprises, is receiving death threats. He's to protect her and find out who is issuing the treats. Simple. Cut and Dry. Until it's not. Until the chemistry between he and Jewel is all about love, hate, and sex. But even as he fights the attraction to Jewel and discovers there is more to her than meets the eye, the real threat comes not from the threats she's receiving, but the connection she has to him. Because his past has come full circle, and those men he's made pay for their sins now want him to pay. And what better way than the woman in his bed?
BUY LINKS
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Jacob is not one for messing around or beating around the bush, “we had a deal. I’m your one-on-one protection. That means I stay with you. That means I sleep here with you.” I love that Jacob has a bossy attitude, “it was my professional assessment that we should kiss.” The man is just so bossy, “pack a bag,” he repeats. “You’re coming with me. End of conversation.” I loved this book, I fell in love with Jacob, his woman was always getting a rise out of him and it was entertaining to see his reactions.
EXCERPT
“Just to be clear,” he says, his voice low and rough. “I’m breaking every rule I own with you. I don’t fuck women I’m protecting. You could hand me over to someone else, I suggest, and it wont matter. Not a chance in hell, he says, his hand sliding under my hair to cup my neck. Well break the rules together. Im not sure I like how you do together. Ill make sure you do, he promises, his lips slanting over mine, and this time he kisses me like he owns me, like he wants to control me, and like I really am his, like I belong to him, and in this very moment, I can honestly say I am. I want him, and I cant get enough of him. And how can it ever be enough when hes this damn impossibly hot, and hes such a damn good kisser. The way he makes me want his mouth on every part of me and the way he makes me want my mouth on every part of him. And so, there it is. Im his, but Im going to make damn sure hes mine, too. I kiss him back as passionately as hes kissing me. I meet him stroke for stroke, arching into him, telling him I am here and present, and Im not even close to afraid of him or of this. He doesnt get to control me. He isnt making me do this. I control me, and I choose him and this. Arching into him, his shoulder holster and mine are in the way, and I want them gone. I want him naked. Just to be certain that he knows thats where I want this to go, my hand presses between us and I stroke the hard line of his shaft. He groans low in his throat, a sexy rough sound that tells me he gets the point. This isnt his show. Its ours. Its us together, or there is no show, with or without our clothes on. His reaction is to tear his mouth from mine, his lips lingering there though, as if he wants to kiss me again, and just when I would kiss him again, he leans away just enough to shrug out of his jacket. I take one step backward, and do the same with my blazer. I reach down and pull off my boots and he does the same. Next, we disconnect our shoulder holsters, and the truth is, its the first time Ive ever been with a man who is probably more armed than me. That feels significant when it perhaps is not. Hes not a cop. Hes not that kind of career complication. Hes a Green-fucking-Beret, and one hell of a hot one, for that matter. He sets his weapon on the couch and snags my hand, walking me toward him and taking my holster and weapon as he does. Just making sure you dont end up shooting me before this is over, he says, setting it with his before shackling my hip. I told you Ill wait until after the orgasms. Careful, he says, a hint of a smile on his lips again. I might hold that orgasm and you captive. You can try, I say, but my head isnt in the game in this moment, and somehow my hand is on his face, right by the almost smile, that seems to have complicated what should be sex, an escape, a way to pull back the emotions that umbrella stirred in me. That smile reminds me that Mr. Robot is his wall, his way to cope with death, with whatever makes him protect Jesse Marks. He captures my hand. What are you thinking? That you have on too many clothes, I say, before I let this go someplace emotional, somewhere that two people like us never want to go. My hands press under his shirt, but he doesnt immediately give me what I want. He studies me for several beats and then kisses me hard and fast. Too fast, but I get over it when he pulls his shirt off. He cups my face and kisses me, his hand sliding up my shirt, his touch fire that has me helping him pull my shirt over my head. Letting him drag me to him where he now sits on the couch. I straddle him, my bra somehow gone by the time Im there. But my hands press to his shoulders, and I hold him at bay. I will still arrest you if I need to, I promise. This doesnt change that. You arent going to arrest me any more than you hate me. He glances down at my chest, his gaze a hot caress as it rakes over my breasts, my nipples, before his eyes meet mine. Because you know Im protecting you. I ignore the ache between my thighs. Or I try. From what? The slayer or the Jesse Marks damage patrol? His hand slides between my shoulder blades and he molds my chest to his. Do you really want to talk about Jesse Marks right now? Because if you ask me questions, Im going to ask you questions when Id much rather be inside you, giving you as many reasons as I can not to arrest me. But you pick. Conversation or fucking. Both, I say, because its the truth. I want answers and I want the conversation my emotions are having in my head to shut up. Fucking first. I push away from him and stand up, unbuttoning my pants, sliding them down my hips, and he watches me with that unreadable, robot expression that is admittedly sexy as hell. I press my lips to his and thats all it takes. We are crazy, hot, kissing, his hands on my breasts, my nipples, my neck. I cant touch him enough. I cant feel him enough, cant get close enough, and thats new to me. I dont need anyone the way I feel I need this man. I dont want to need anyone this much, but its too late. At least, right here, right now, I do. He rolls us to our sides, facing one another, the wide cushion of the couch more than holding us and the next kiss isnt fast and frenzied. Its long, drugging, and somewhere in the midst of his tongue stroking my tongue, I end up on my back with the heavy weight of him on top of me...
OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES
Check out books one and two in the WALKER SECURITY series: Deep Under and Pulled Under are both available now and FREE in the KINDLEUNLIMITED PROGRAM! All three books in the series are standalones.
MORE DETAILS HERE: http://mybook.to/WalkerSecurityAmazon
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