by: Amy Andrews
Series: Outback Heat
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 22, 2015
Publisher: Tule Publishing
Fashion student Lacey Weston is desperate to leave the city and go home to Jumbuck Springs. Her three older brothers are adamant she’s not. They made a deathbed promise to their mother that Lacey would stay the distance at design school and Ethan, the oldest, takes this responsibility very seriously. But Lacey is deeply homesick and determined not to be dissuaded again. She’s also impulsive enough to try anything - even faking a pregnancy.
Ex-cop turned mechanic, Cooper Grainger - one of Ethan’s oldest friends - agrees to watch out for Lacey in the city even though he has a history with her he’d rather forget. How hard could it be, right? But a couple of years later, Coop is over pulling Lacey out of scrapes and cleaning up her messes as she tries to outrun her grief and sense of dislocation. He takes her back to Jumbuck Springs so she can persuade her brothers to let her come home. But things don’t go according to plan. Before Coop knows it Lacey’s pregnant and he’s putting his hand up as the fake baby daddy, filling in for the town mechanic and moving in with her at the local pub.
Lacey is thrilled to have won a reprieve but nothing about the situation sits well with Coop. Least of all having sweet little Lacey Weston as his new roomie…
From December 17th to December 20th, you can get Some Girls Do on sale from Amazon (US & UK) for only $0.99!!!
Check out this deliciously long and exceptionally dirty deleted scene from the book for your holiday enjoyment.
WARNING - exceptionally long and dirty smexy scene from Some Girls Do ahoy!!
She didn’t usually stay the night but she had a feeling this man could change her mind.
“Good,” he said, kissing her brief and hard then grabbing her hand and whisking her down a hallway, the doors passing by her in a blur.
They seemed to walk forever then finally he stopped and Lacey pressed her back against the door to catch her breath while he fished in his front pocket for the key. But his snug jeans were now positively tight due to his state of extreme arousal and Lacey grew impatient.
She leaned into him, pressing her face to his neck, inhaling the scent of him. He grunted, his spare hand reaching for her waist as he dragged his keys free. She noticed for the first time a tiny horizontal scar low down on his windpipe and kissed it. When he sucked in a breath she licked it. Then she licked all the way up to his jaw.
“I can’t concentrate when you do that,” he growled as he aligned the key with the lock.
Lacey ignored him. Screw it. Let him figure out the key thing, she needed to touch him. She kissed along his jawline to his ear, pulling his lobe into her mouth and grazing her teeth against it ever so slightly.
Coop’s eyes shut as his ear and his dick morphed into a freaking interconnected erogenous highway. The key slid from the lock before he could insert it and he was turning his head, seeking her mouth, pushing his fingers into her hair as their lips met. His body crowded her back against the door, needing to feel her thighs, hips, breasts smooshed against him, her head bumping as the tempo of the kiss ran away from both of them.
Her breathy little moan streaked heat to his gut and tightened his groin and he plundered the sweet recesses of her mouth even harder. She smelled sweet and tasted like lemon, beer and heaven and he’d totally forgotten that they were making out in the hallway and that behind the door lay a king-sized bed where they could stretch out and really go for it because he’d stopped thinking with his big head the second she’d licked his neck.
And now her hand was under his shirt he had no chance.
Coop groaned as her nails dug into his back, his hips grinding against her of their own volition. Her appreciative moan and the way she bucked against him spread heat everywhere. He could feel the squash of her breasts against his chest and he wanted to touch them so damn bad his hand was sweeping down of its own accord, finding the ripe, round fullness with the hard pebble at its centre and squeezing.
Her whimper rocketed through his veins like jet fuel and when she blatantly pushed herself further into his palm, the desire to strip away her shirt and bra, to look and touch unhindered, became a pounding imperative in his blood.
As his tongue savoured the taste of her mouth Coop groped for the hem of her shirt, finding it, sliding his hand underneath, up her rib cage and onto the satin of her bra, revelling in the soft swell, brushing his thumb over the nipple, swallowing the cry that came from the back of her throat as his pulse pounded like a jungle drum through his head.
It was so intoxicating he barely felt her fingers at his waistband, didn’t register their intent when the button on his fly popped or when the zipper made a loud ripping noise as she pulled it down. It was only when her hand found his aching cock through his underwear and squeezed that jolted him out of his sexual stupor.
Jesus. They were in the fucking hallway!
Coop grabbed her hand, wrenching his mouth from hers, dragging in much needed oxygen since clearly he was suffering from hypoxia. “Wait,” he panted pulling her hand away.
She gave him a wild, bewildered look and he groaned as he swept his thumb along her bottom lip still full and moist from his kisses. “Not here,” he muttered.
He’d made a decision back at the pub that he hadn’t wanted a quick shag in a back alley so he sure as hell wasn’t going to do her against his apartment door either – not this side of it anyway.
She shot him a frustrated look, her hair all wild and gypsy and her gaze a deep vat of gooey molasses. “Well open the damn door then.”
Coop didn’t need to be asked twice. His hand shook a little but this time he managed to slot the key into the lock. The door opened and he stood aside. “Mind the boxes,” he said as she brushed past and he followed her into the darkened entrance way. “I just moved in and haven’t finished un- ”
He didn’t get to complete the sentence before she was turning and her mouth was back on his and she was grabbing his shoulders, hauling him closer and he was thrust back into the oblivion of her.
Somehow he kicked the door shut with his foot and they were moving as they kissed, slowly shuffling, her walking backwards, him forwards blindly navigating the darkened apartment, an awkward tango. And then somehow his shirt was up and off his head and her hands were all over, stroking and teasing every inch of his chest and back, her mouth just the right amount of hard and soft against his.
And then her shirt was off and then her bra and her breasts spilled into his waiting hands and she moaned as his thumbs brushed the hard points of her nipples and then he was pushing her against the nearest wall and dipping his head because he just had to taste them.
And they tasted so damn good. Her nipples hard and ripe against his tongue, her flesh soft and heavy in his palms.
“Coop,” she gasped bucking against him as his teeth nipped at the engorged bud in his mouth.
He lifted his head and slayed her with a kiss full of sex and sin, one hand palming a breast, his thumb teasing the nipple, the other one sliding down, pulling her butt in close, grinding himself into the juncture between her thighs.
She moaned and rubbed back, her hand at his fly again, finding its way in and this time when she squeezed him, he didn’t stop her, just sucked in a breath and pushed himself more into her palm and when her fingers worked their way past his underwear and encircled his taut flesh his heart almost pounded right out of his chest.
“Fuck,” he muttered as she slid her hand up and down the length of him.
Then he was yanking her away from the wall, half pushing, half leading, half dragging her through the dark past boxes and furniture and into the bedroom, his mouth never ever leaving hers, one hand on her breast, rubbing and squeezing and rolling the nipple, keeping it in a state of full arousal. Her hand down his pants returning the favour.
Then the backs of his legs hit his mattress and his hands slid down her ribs, undid the button on her jeans, then the zip, then pushed them down. She followed suit, pushing at his jeans and between the two of them they wriggled and squirmed and pushed and pulled while all the time kissing and licking and touching until finally, finally they were both naked.
Coop sucked in a breath as the ambient light from outside his window slanted through the blinds striping her nudity in exotic light. “Wow,” he murmured, trailing his fingers from the hollow of her throat down to her hip.
Her nipples tightened and her eyes fluttered closed at the caress and the scent of lust and sex flared his nostrils and filled his senses. When her eyes opened again she smiled at him and said, “Not bad yourself.”
Her gaze lingered on his cock and her husky voice vibrated along all his nerve endings. The urge to push her back, to fall upon her, to drive straight into her, echoed around his brain and pounded through his veins with each beat of his heart. But he wasn’t some horny teenager who’d never been with a girl.
Even if it felt a little like his first time after such a long break.
Her gaze lifted from his erection and he saw the moment she noticed, that little frown he’d seen at the pool table reappeared. “What happened?” she asked, one hand sliding up his left side to the smooth round scar that marked the space between eighth and ninth rib, the other tracing the midline scar that dissected his sternum.
He was grateful his hair had grown back thick enough to hide the surgical wound on his scalp. “I was...in an accident a little while ago.” He kept his tone light, as her fingers gently traced his old injury.
Her frown deepened. “Does it hurt?” she asked.
He placed his hands on top of hers. “It's fine now.”
Their gazes locked and for a moment the sadness he’d first glimpsed in her eyes burned stark and fierce and he hoped to hell it was about her own scars and that she wasn’t one of those women who wanted to heal him. Because the only healing he needed tonight was of the sexual variety.
She smiled at him then. “I hope nothing else got damaged...”
Coop chuckled as he looked down at himself – out and proud. “What do you think?”
Her hand slid from his, brushing down his body until it reached the aching swollen jut of him, which she grasped with typical boldness. Coop sucked in a breath, his eyes shutting as her thumb rolled over the head, back and forth, back and forth. “I’m thinking...why aren’t we on your bed already?”
Coop placed his hand over hers unsure how long he could hold out against such exquisite torture. She raised an eyebrow. “Does it hurt there too? Shall I kiss it better?”
Coop raised his hands to her shoulders and exerted gentle pressure. “Lay back,” he whispered. “I want to look at you.”
Lacey’s belly clenched at the husky entreaty and she fell back under his scrutiny, sitting first, her head temptingly level with the fascinating piece of his anatomy she’d just had in her hand, then lowering herself back, lifting her hair off her neck as she went, until she was lying on the mattress, her hair spread out, her arms above her, her butt near the edge, her knees primly together almost touching his.
Her gaze was drawn again to his scars – and she wondered if he had them on the inside too.
Like she did.
His blue, blue eyes roamed every inch of her body spreading a fever through her veins. She barely breathed as the slow throb of thick sludgy blood pooling in her pelvis held her in his thrall. Her pulse pounded, her breasts ached, an excruciating tingling at the juncture of her thighs demanded to be relieved.
And still, hard and ready, he watched her.
She’d never felt so naked – so exposed - in front of a man as he looked his fill. Desperation clawed at her. She felt like he could see right inside her and that part wasn’t for display.
Lacey spread her legs in blatant invitation, her knees bracketing his. “Are you joining me?”
“Wild horses couldn’t stop me.”
And then he was beside her, one hand tangled in her hair spread like a halo around her head, the other low on her belly as his mouth hovered just over hers. And then he was kissing her, lightly and gently, his fingers tracing patterns around her belly button.
Lacey squirmed impatiently against the caress. She wanted more, damn it. She didn’t want this to be some deep and meaningful, tantric session that went for hours.
She wanted him fast and hard and deep.
She wanted him to rock her away to an oblivion somewhere far, far away where the feelings and the pleasure were so intense, so all-consuming there wasn’t room for anything else in her head.
She opened her mouth wide, thrust in her tongue, lifted her head off the bed when he tried to lighten things again.
“Hey,” he said. “We’ve got all night.”
Lacey shook her head. “I need you in me now,” she said and wound her arms around his neck, kissing him hot and wet and hungry.
He tore his mouth away, breathing hard. “I want to taste you,” he said, his hand brushing down her belly, his finger sliding into all her slick, wet heat. “Everywhere.”
Lacey bucked as his fingers stroked and teased and she almost came thinking about him putting his mouth down there. “Later,” she panted, rotating her hips, begging him for more, reaching for his erection pressing into her hip, squeezing him.
He groaned and muttered, “Fuck,” before slamming his mouth onto hers.
Lacey revelled in his loss of control. His mouth traced fire across hers, down her neck and down further to her breasts ravaging them with singular intensity whilst his fingers stoked and stoked. She bucked, she writhed, she cried out, begging him for release, reaching for the promise of oblivion.
“Coop,” she panted. “Please – ”
And then he was up at her mouth again, kissing her hard and good before pushing off her, muttering, “Condom,” when she whimpered her objection.
Lacey’s head was spinning as she watched Coop grope in his bedside table draw then fumble a box, dropping it on the floor, cursing under his breath and then reaching down and coming up with a little foil packet.
“Ta da,” he said triumphantly as he lifted it to his mouth, tearing it with his teeth.
Lacey sat and held out her hand. “Allow me.”
She watched the bob of his throat but gave him full marks for handing it straight over. She didn’t take her eyes off his erection as she slid it out of the packet – she got wetter just thinking about it filling her, stretching her. But it was so damn close and her mouth watered.
She heard the warning but ignored it as she leaned in and took him in her mouth.
“Oh...fuck...” he groaned and Lacey half expected him to pull out but then his fingers were in her hair and she sucked him harder, savouring the taste and the smell and the feel of him against her tongue. She put her hands on his hips, pulling him closer, encouraging him deeper and he groaned again.
But it was short lived as he pulled away, tilting her chin, saying, “I’m never going to last if you keep doing that.”
Lacey smiled at him. “You think I’m going to last?”
He smiled back, whisking the condom out of her fingers and sheathing himself. Then she was falling back, opening her legs and he was at her mouth, her neck and breasts and Lacey was lifting her hips, rubbing herself against his cock desperately needing to feel it deep inside her. Good and hard like she knew it would be.
“Now,” she cried as the friction built to maddening. And then he was raising himself up over kissing her as his blunt girth nudged her sex, entering in one smooth thrust of his hips.
Lacey cried out as it reached all the places that were dark and lonely and cold inside and she wound her legs around her hips begging him for more. And he gave it to her, pushing in and pulling out, pushing in, pulling out.
In, out. In, out. In, out.
A balm for everything that hurt.
Pounding and rocking and sweeping her higher, sweeping her away as her nails bit into his back. And then his hand was between them, stroking her in just the right spot and she was shattering, crying out, “Yes, yes, yes.” With his forehead pressed into neck, he joined her, groaning so deep she felt it touch her heart.
And she knew there was no way she could stay the night.
Whew! If you liked that little glimpse into Lacey and Coop's insane chemistry you can get the book for $0.99!! for the next couple of days.
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Multi-award winning and USA Today bestselling author Amy Andrews is an Aussie who has written fifty romances from novellas to category to single-title in both the traditional and digital markets for a variety of publishers. Her first love is steamy contemporary romance that makes her readers tingle, laugh and sigh. At the age of 16, she met a guy she instantly knew she was going to marry so she just smiles when people tell her insta-love books are unrealistic because she did marry that man and, twenty odd years later, they’re still living out their happily ever after.
She loves good books, fab food, great wine and frequent travel – preferably all four together. She works part-time as a PICU nurse and lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane with a gorgeous mountain view but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.
Places to find Amy Andrews:
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