{{NEW RELEASE}} SPARK by S.L.Scott
Title: Spark
Author: S.L. Scott
Genre: Standalone Contemporary Romance
Release Date: February 22, 2018
Blurb
One break is all The Crow Brothers need and we’re
about to get it.
Johnny Outlaw, rock legend and lead singer of
The Resistance, is here to watch us play. But he’s not the only familiar face
in the crowd—killer little body, heart-shaped face, and drop-dead gorgeous.
Hannah Nichols sitting at the bar makes it
hard to concentrate, sparks already reigniting. The beauty was never a groupie
and tonight she’s not here to catch our show. She came to drop a bomb. “You
have a son.”
She underestimated me. I’ll prove to my son, and
her, that I can be the dad he needs.
What is it about musicians? Why are they so damn
sexy?
My heart was Jet Crow’s the moment he opened
his sexy mouth and sang that first song. One stolen night with that man would
never be enough, but I’m not here to fall into his bed. Again. I’m here
to fight for custody of a son he’s never known.
There’s just one problem. Those sparks between us have become flames. If we’re not careful we’re
both going to get burned.
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Excerpt
Jet Crow
Subtle
scents of cinnamon mix with the taste of whiskey on her skin. I lick her from
collarbone to the back of her ear, her moans enticing me to take more than a
gentle share of what I want.
I’m well
past hooking up with groupies, but something drew me to the beautiful brunette.
Under the bright spotlight of that stage, my eyes found hers as I sang about
finding the missing piece of me. Maybe it was the way she pretended to not
care, catching my eyes and then turning away as if she was too shy to come speak
to me, but too good to be bothered. It didn’t matter. I was already caught up
in her as much as she was caught up in me.
The set
ended and I made my way over to the mystery woman, the one who hid in the dark
of the bar just as two shots were served. I took the shot of Fireball and then
took her home shortly after.
Fuck. She feels good.
Hard little
body, but soft in all the right places. Tits that fill my large hands and legs
that spread enough for me to squeeze between her thighs. I bet she wouldn’t reach
my shoulders in heels. Speaking of, “Keep them on.”
I like the
feel of the leather against my lower back, the hard heel scraping across my
skin when she tries to power play me by tightening around my waist and pulling
me closer. I didn’t ask her to my bedroom. I didn’t have a chance. What started
out as laughing while we shared a two a.m. snack of Cheetos, hummus, and
whiskey turned into me eating her as a snack on top of my kitchen counter. I
don’t ever do that with a one-nighter, but damn if she didn’t make me want to
break more rules with her.
She kisses
me like a woman in need of water, taking as much as she wants while pressing
her heels into my ass. The heat between us emanates until I’m dragging my shirt
off to try to cool down.
I knew she
was different the moment she opened her mouth back at the bar. “You sing rock
with so much soul. Who hurt you?”
“No one
gets close enough to do me any harm.”
“That’s a
pity.”
“It’s a
pity I’ve never been hurt?”
“No, it’s a
pity you’ve never loved anyone enough to get hurt.”
My heart
started beating for what felt like the first time as I looked into her sultry
eyes. I could blame the booze, but I can’t lie to myself. She had me thinking
twice on things I never considered once before.
Who was this woman?
Even with
our stomachs full, we weren’t satisfied. She dragged me by the belt down the
hall to my bedroom. Her clothes were off and mine quickly followed before we
tumbled into bed.
Fast. I want to fuck her fast and hard, but every
time our eyes connect there’s such sadness found in her grays that I slow down.
Wanting her to hold contact, I cup her cheek. “Hannah?”
Her eyes
slowly open, the long lashes framing the lust I find between them. “What?” she
asks between heavy breaths.
“Are you
okay?”
“I’m good.”
“Just
making sure.”
She runs
her hands up my neck and into the back of my hair. “I’m sure.” Pulling me down
to her, our mouths are just a few inches apart when she whispers, “I want you. I
want to do this.”
Shy isn’t
something I’d call her considering we were in my bed two hours after meeting. I
like a woman who knows what she wants. Hannah knows. And fuck if it isn’t a
turn on that she wants me.
Author Bio
Living in the capital of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and cooking with her kids. She's obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot twist. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she's a pro.
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