Excerpt
Keeping his eyes on mine, he calls to the barman. “Two
tequilas, please.”
“Tequila,” I muse, looking over my shoulder when the salt
and lemon land behind me. “Is that my challenge?”
“Crying off?” he goads, reaching into his pocket and pulling
out some notes.
“Never,” I scoff, turning into the bar. I don’t know what
his game is, but I want to play. With him. “You’re asking me to prove I’m sober
by doing a shot?” I narrow my eyes on him, teasing. “Or is your plan to get me
drunk and take advantage of me?”
He smiles to himself as he pays the barman. “You don’t look
like the kind of woman who could be taken advantage of.”
“What kind of woman do I look like, then?” I challenge
quietly.
He turns into me, watching me for a few moments. “I don’t
know, but I think I’d like to find out.”
I hold his gaze for a few seconds, no retort coming to me. I
think I want him to find out, too, just as much as I want to find out what kind
of man he is. My eyes drop from his sparkling greys, down his tall, lean frame
to his feet.
Oh…fuck…
“Let’s play,” he says, moving in closer and pulling one of
the glasses forward. I don’t mean to, but I yank my arm away abruptly when he
brushes against me, startled by the tiny stabs of pleasure that pitter-patter
all over my skin. The fleeting touch tells me he would feel as good as he
looks, and—give me strength—he smells divine, all manly and earthy and fucking
edible.
The sudden lapse in movement and talking from both of us
becomes slightly awkward. I can feel him looking down at me.
“What do I have to do?” I ask again quietly, almost on a
breathy gasp.
He clears his throat. “You’re not drunk?”
“Not even the slightest bit.” I raise my nose in the air.
“Good. Then you’ll smash this challenge first time.” He
places a finger on the brim of one of the shot glasses. “Brace your palms on
the edge of the bar,” he orders, firm but softly. I look at him, finding a
serious face. “Go on.”
Frowning, I place my hands on the edge of the bar. “Okay?”
He takes my hips. He takes my fucking hips! I freeze from
top to toe and swallow hard, waiting. My insides are quickly furling, my mind
in chaos. “Move back a bit,” he says, pulling at them a little until I step
back.
Oh, Jesus. I’m on fire. I have a strange man bending me over
a bar in public, and me, Annie I’m-immune-to-men Ryan, isn’t fighting him off.
It’s like he has me under a spell. What gives? I dare not look behind me. I’m
not stupid enough to think Lizzy isn’t currently watching a man manipulate my
body to where he wants it.
“You feel tense,” he observes, releasing me and moving back
to my side.
I don’t deny it; neither do I confirm it. His big hands felt
so good resting on my hips, so much so I have to resist not claiming them and
putting them back where they were. “What now?” I ask, evidently struggling for
air, damn me.
“Now.” He picks up his beer and grins. “I get to gloat that
I had you bent over a bar within five minutes of meeting you.” He takes a swig,
still grinning, and I hear the roar of a man down the bar laughing his head
off.
Oh, the fucker! Part of me has admiration. Another part of
me wants to slap him stupid; I don’t care how beautiful he is. And another part
of me wants to rip his clothes from his body and ravish the sly bastard.
I cannot believe I
fell for it! How many women has he played like a fiddle? I drop my head,
shaking it to myself.
I knew that smile was dangerous. A man who can bend a woman
to his will so easily and so soon couldn’t be anything less than lethal. And
the fact that he got me with his wicked game means hats off to him. I can’t
possibly take that away from him, and since I’m lacking in the dignity
department right now, I decide not to slap him. Nor will I chuck a drink over
his head, or fire a load of verbal abuse at him.
I’ll do what he least expects.
I push myself up and turn to face him, unable to stop myself
from smiling at his half-grin. Holding his gaze, I slowly lick the back of my
hand, blindly take the salt off the bar, sprinkle a bit, and take one of the
shots of tequila. But as I’m taking my hand to my mouth to lick the salt up, he
seizes my wrist and takes the shot from my other hand. My heartbeat
accelerates, our eyes glued to each other as he moves into me and slowly brings
my hand to his mouth. I watch, gripped, as he lazily licks up the salt from the
back of my hand, eyes on mine, and then knocks the tequila back. Kill me now,
for I will certainly die a happy woman. His tongue on my skin. His eyes boring
into mine. His hold of my wrist. I must look like a statue—unable to talk,
move, or think clearly.
“There’s one more tequila,” he says, cocking his head toward
the bar but keeping me in his sights. “And it’s yours.”
Oh good lord. My heart is speeding up by the second as I
watch him lick the back of his hand and sprinkle some salt. Then he offers it
to me. I stare at his hand, and then slowly look up at him. I could get lost in
those grey glittery eyes.
“I taste good,” he whispers.
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About the Author
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About the Author
Jodi Ellen Malpas wrote her debut series, The This Man
Trilogy, in secret, worried about what people might think if they knew what her
imagination was capable of. She was shocked herself. But she finally found the
courage to unleash her creative streak and self-published THIS MAN – the first
book of the This Man Trilogy – in October 2012. She took a chance on the story
with a hero who soon became one of modern day fictions most prolific alpha male
characters. Jesse Ward – also affectionately known as The Lord of The Manor,
sparked incredible reactions from women across the globe and catapulted Jodi
into the world of women’s fiction. Jodi went on to self-publish the second book
in the trilogy, Beneath This Man in Jan 2013, just before Grand Central
Publishing, part of the Hachette Book Group, picked up the popular trilogy and
the unknown Jodi. The third book of the trilogy, This Man Confessed, took Jodi
to the top of the bestsellers lists, earning her the proud title of #1 New York
Times Bestselling Author. This Man has since been voted one of the top romance
novels of all time. With so much love, enthusiasm and a thirst for her words
from her readers, Jodi suddenly wasn’t afraid of her imagination anymore. She
went on to write The One Night Trilogy with the delectable and mysterious
Miller Hart, and stole the hearts of her readers once again. Her first
stand-alone novel, THE PROTECTOR, released in September 2016 and has since been
nominated for a Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award. Jodi’s next stand-alone novel.
THE FORBIDDEN, is set for release in August 2017. All seven of her published
novels have hit the New York Times best sellers list – as well as the Sunday
Times list and various international best seller lists. Her work is now
published in over 24 languages across the world. Jodi was born and raised in
the Midlands town of Northampton, England, where she lives with her two boys
and a beagle. She is a self-professed daydreamer, a mojito addict, is famous
for her obsession with Converse, and has a terrible weak spot for Alpha Males.
Writing powerful love stories and creating addictive characters has become her
passion – a passion she now shares with her devoted readers.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/JodiEllenMalpas
YouTube: https://goo.gl/2kGLbt
Instagram: http://www.jodiellenmalpas.co.uk/instagram/
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