LOSING ME, FINDING YOU COVER REVEAL AND HOT EXTRACT
Releases April 20th, 2013 on Amazon.com
New Adult/Contemporary Erotic Romance/Biker
New Adult/Contemporary Erotic Romance/Biker
Blurb:
Twenty-one year old Amy Cross's idea of a hot Saturday night is curling up with her favorite book boyfriend and secretly sneaking a bottle of her mother's wine. That is, until she meets Austin Sparks, the biker boy with a past that burns like fire and a gaze she can't look away from. Without knowing what she's doing or why she's doing it, Amy ends up on the road with Austin travelling from one city to another while learning things she's only ever read about in romance novels.
At first it seems like Austin is Amy's fantasy come true, but as their journey progresses, she starts to sense that Austin is running away from something. Amy knows that she'll do whatever it takes to help him find himself. What she doesn't expect is that she'll lose herself in the process and how good it will feel to be free.
Twenty-one year old Amy Cross's idea of a hot Saturday night is curling up with her favorite book boyfriend and secretly sneaking a bottle of her mother's wine. That is, until she meets Austin Sparks, the biker boy with a past that burns like fire and a gaze she can't look away from. Without knowing what she's doing or why she's doing it, Amy ends up on the road with Austin travelling from one city to another while learning things she's only ever read about in romance novels.
At first it seems like Austin is Amy's fantasy come true, but as their journey progresses, she starts to sense that Austin is running away from something. Amy knows that she'll do whatever it takes to help him find himself. What she doesn't expect is that she'll lose herself in the process and how good it will feel to be free.
OMG I ALMOST LOST MY PANTIES READING THIS TEASER.
LADIES HOLD ON TO YOUR PANTIES. MEN HOLD ON TO SOMETHING.......
LOSING ME, FINDING YOU TEASER
BY CM STUNICH
AUSTIN
Amy pushes through the doors in the back like she knows exactly where she's going, leading us into a room with four pool tables and not much else. Once she's inside, she spins to face me, her beautiful hair sticking to her lips as it flows around her face.
“How do I join?” she asks and it takes me a long, hot second to figure out what it is that she wants. I'm having a hard time thinking past the surges of excitement that are coursing through my body, begging me to grab the girl and throw her over the green felt, fuck her until these strange feelings inside of me are gone.
“I don't know what you mean, babe?” I ask as Amy steps close, too close, and her heat envelopes me, teasing me with the soft scent of flowers and sex. This girl is ready whether she knows it or not.
“Your gang – group – whatever. The people with the triple M's on the back of their jackets.” Ah. The girl wants to join my motorcycle club. I pause for a moment and rub my chin, trying to figure out what to say. She's not the first chick to ask, but she is the first to seem so serious about it, to look at me with eyes burning with fire and a voice quavering with need, like if I don't answer her, she'll shrivel up and die.
“Believe me, Amy, when I tell you that you don't want to be a part of this.”
“No,” she tells me, glancing up sharply. “I need to be.”
And then she's stepping forward and running her hands up my chest, leaning forward on her toes so that the lace trim on the neckline of her top skims the fabric of my shirt, close but not close e-fucking-nough.
“Help me,” she whispers, voice dropping so low that the last word barely reaches my ears. Or maybe my pulse is pumping too loud in my Goddamn head to hear anything at all; I realize that the buzz and the clink of glasses from the bar has gone silent. Whoever this girl is, I don't care. All I know is that I need her, now, right here, fucking fast and friggin' furious. But then I remind myself that she's a virgin and a small town lady who doesn't know shit about shit, and I just can't do that to her, not unless she asks.
“This ain't a pleasure trip,” I tell her, hoping for her sake that she backs up or I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself. “We're not just fancying around on pretty bikes and scoping the scenery. If you want to do that, go call the AMA. You don't want anything to do with Triple M. Shit, I don't even want anything to with Triple M.” Not anymore, I think, but I can't delve too deep into feeling sorry for myself. It's impossible to get wrapped up in my mind when my body is this stiff, pulsing with heat so hard it hurts. What the hell is it with this Amy girl?
“Please.” Just that one word, thrust at me with force and the weight of a gaze that's beyond desperate for something different, something new. Amy's fingers curl in my shirt, graze the skin on my chest hard enough to bruise as she lets her eyes flutter closed and parts her soft, wet lips.
Ah, shit, I think. Fuck this self-restraint bullshit.
I reach up and grab Amy's chin hard, pulling her forward so that she trips and falls fully against me, rubbing her breasts along my chest as my hand slides down and cups her ass, nice and firm. She yelps, but she doesn't say a word, eyes flickering open and locking onto mine without a hint of fear. A wicked smile curves my lips. I knew it. This girl might be a virgin, but she's not some innocent little doe; she wants this, maybe more than I do.
“Let me take care of you, baby. Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'll help you forget,” I say, pulling her face up to mine and crushing my lips against hers.
AMY
Austin grabs me roughly and slams me into his firm body, grabbing my behind – ass, Amy, it's an ass – and searing my face with his hot mouth. A noise escapes me and sends goose bumps springing up on my arms and legs. It's a sound that I've never heard come from my throat and it's a bit startling. My mind, so used to analyzing everything, wants to focus on this, to force me away from this man that smells like oil and leather, but it loses out to the wants of my body. Long denied her basic right to feel human, she lifts my arms up of her own accord, rallying against my uncertainty and my trepidation at the unknown. My fingers tangle in Austin's sandy hair as his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing me with hot, slick strokes while his own fingers massage my butt with a ferocity that's almost frightening.
Oh dear, I realize as another moan slips out of me and mingles in the space of hot breath between Austin's and my mouth. You're just like my favourite book boyfriend. Now I know why I was so drawn to you. I try my best not to recall the very arousing scene in which Glance Serone thrusts his hard cock into the horribly sex-starved Miss Sali Bend.
I fail miserably.
And then I'm thinking about that scene and how many times I read it and how I rubbed myself in circles through the thick cotton of my very tasteful, very dull, laceless, nude panties.
“Austin,” I whisper as he steps forward and uses the weight of his body to get me right where he wants me. I want to keep kissing forever, tasting sultry Southern boy and good manners and a filthy fucking mouth, but I think he has other plans.
“If you don't want this,” he whispers as he grazes my ear with his white, white teeth. “Then you better tell me now because once I get started, I ain't gonna be able to stop.”
How unfair, I think because really, there is no way that I can speak with scalding kisses being pressed to the side of my neck and my shoulder. Instead, another sound escapes my lips, bursting out into the air like a sigh of relief. Finally, I think. After all these years of reading about bad boys and alpha males and delicious men with ridiculous names, it's my turn. Mine. Mine. Sorry, Horse; Sorry, Kellan Kyle; Sorry, Ty McCabe; Sorry, Travis Maddox; Sorry, Gideon Cross. But I'm breaking up with all of you.
“That's what I thought.”
Austin Sparks crushes me against the pool table with his hips, the roughness of his jeans rubbing against the smoothness of my thighs as he pushes up my skirt with his warm hands.
“Get ready for this, beautiful.”
And then he's spinning me around, so suddenly that my mouth opens wide and my cheek (my unbruised one, thankfully) slams into the felt of the pool table.
BY CM STUNICH
AUSTIN
Amy pushes through the doors in the back like she knows exactly where she's going, leading us into a room with four pool tables and not much else. Once she's inside, she spins to face me, her beautiful hair sticking to her lips as it flows around her face.
“How do I join?” she asks and it takes me a long, hot second to figure out what it is that she wants. I'm having a hard time thinking past the surges of excitement that are coursing through my body, begging me to grab the girl and throw her over the green felt, fuck her until these strange feelings inside of me are gone.
“I don't know what you mean, babe?” I ask as Amy steps close, too close, and her heat envelopes me, teasing me with the soft scent of flowers and sex. This girl is ready whether she knows it or not.
“Your gang – group – whatever. The people with the triple M's on the back of their jackets.” Ah. The girl wants to join my motorcycle club. I pause for a moment and rub my chin, trying to figure out what to say. She's not the first chick to ask, but she is the first to seem so serious about it, to look at me with eyes burning with fire and a voice quavering with need, like if I don't answer her, she'll shrivel up and die.
“Believe me, Amy, when I tell you that you don't want to be a part of this.”
“No,” she tells me, glancing up sharply. “I need to be.”
And then she's stepping forward and running her hands up my chest, leaning forward on her toes so that the lace trim on the neckline of her top skims the fabric of my shirt, close but not close e-fucking-nough.
“Help me,” she whispers, voice dropping so low that the last word barely reaches my ears. Or maybe my pulse is pumping too loud in my Goddamn head to hear anything at all; I realize that the buzz and the clink of glasses from the bar has gone silent. Whoever this girl is, I don't care. All I know is that I need her, now, right here, fucking fast and friggin' furious. But then I remind myself that she's a virgin and a small town lady who doesn't know shit about shit, and I just can't do that to her, not unless she asks.
“This ain't a pleasure trip,” I tell her, hoping for her sake that she backs up or I don't know if I'm going to be able to control myself. “We're not just fancying around on pretty bikes and scoping the scenery. If you want to do that, go call the AMA. You don't want anything to do with Triple M. Shit, I don't even want anything to with Triple M.” Not anymore, I think, but I can't delve too deep into feeling sorry for myself. It's impossible to get wrapped up in my mind when my body is this stiff, pulsing with heat so hard it hurts. What the hell is it with this Amy girl?
“Please.” Just that one word, thrust at me with force and the weight of a gaze that's beyond desperate for something different, something new. Amy's fingers curl in my shirt, graze the skin on my chest hard enough to bruise as she lets her eyes flutter closed and parts her soft, wet lips.
Ah, shit, I think. Fuck this self-restraint bullshit.
I reach up and grab Amy's chin hard, pulling her forward so that she trips and falls fully against me, rubbing her breasts along my chest as my hand slides down and cups her ass, nice and firm. She yelps, but she doesn't say a word, eyes flickering open and locking onto mine without a hint of fear. A wicked smile curves my lips. I knew it. This girl might be a virgin, but she's not some innocent little doe; she wants this, maybe more than I do.
“Let me take care of you, baby. Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'll help you forget,” I say, pulling her face up to mine and crushing my lips against hers.
AMY
Austin grabs me roughly and slams me into his firm body, grabbing my behind – ass, Amy, it's an ass – and searing my face with his hot mouth. A noise escapes me and sends goose bumps springing up on my arms and legs. It's a sound that I've never heard come from my throat and it's a bit startling. My mind, so used to analyzing everything, wants to focus on this, to force me away from this man that smells like oil and leather, but it loses out to the wants of my body. Long denied her basic right to feel human, she lifts my arms up of her own accord, rallying against my uncertainty and my trepidation at the unknown. My fingers tangle in Austin's sandy hair as his tongue slips into my mouth, teasing me with hot, slick strokes while his own fingers massage my butt with a ferocity that's almost frightening.
Oh dear, I realize as another moan slips out of me and mingles in the space of hot breath between Austin's and my mouth. You're just like my favourite book boyfriend. Now I know why I was so drawn to you. I try my best not to recall the very arousing scene in which Glance Serone thrusts his hard cock into the horribly sex-starved Miss Sali Bend.
I fail miserably.
And then I'm thinking about that scene and how many times I read it and how I rubbed myself in circles through the thick cotton of my very tasteful, very dull, laceless, nude panties.
“Austin,” I whisper as he steps forward and uses the weight of his body to get me right where he wants me. I want to keep kissing forever, tasting sultry Southern boy and good manners and a filthy fucking mouth, but I think he has other plans.
“If you don't want this,” he whispers as he grazes my ear with his white, white teeth. “Then you better tell me now because once I get started, I ain't gonna be able to stop.”
How unfair, I think because really, there is no way that I can speak with scalding kisses being pressed to the side of my neck and my shoulder. Instead, another sound escapes my lips, bursting out into the air like a sigh of relief. Finally, I think. After all these years of reading about bad boys and alpha males and delicious men with ridiculous names, it's my turn. Mine. Mine. Sorry, Horse; Sorry, Kellan Kyle; Sorry, Ty McCabe; Sorry, Travis Maddox; Sorry, Gideon Cross. But I'm breaking up with all of you.
“That's what I thought.”
Austin Sparks crushes me against the pool table with his hips, the roughness of his jeans rubbing against the smoothness of my thighs as he pushes up my skirt with his warm hands.
“Get ready for this, beautiful.”
And then he's spinning me around, so suddenly that my mouth opens wide and my cheek (my unbruised one, thankfully) slams into the felt of the pool table.
I WARNED YOU DID I NOT.......NOW YOU NEED A VERY VERY COLD SHOWER RIGHT.....
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