***WARNING*** This book is intended for 18+ due to strong language, violent scenarios, and sexual content.
Bentley Celeste is a witty, foul mouthed, reclusive, dark romance writer. She lives her life in solitude, hiding from her painful past and the one person hell bent on destroying her future. She doesn’t have time for relationships and has no interest in allowing anyone but her best friend into her private little sanctuary. Tristan Reece is sultry, sexy, and jaded. He also happens to be the cover model for Bentley’s long time acquaintance, Electra. He believes everyone who he loves is going to betray him, and then walk away. Though he carries the reputation of a ladies man, Tristan prefers to keep his heart and his bed empty. A chance meeting blind sides Bentley as she’s nearly trampled by the giant wall of muscle that is Tristan. Tempers aren’t the only thing to fly. Bentley may not have any interest in Tristan, but after getting his ass handed to him through a verbal assault, he can’t forget the tiny Spitfire that sparks more than just his fury. Both are stubborn, with the will to fight against each other until the very end. Will Tristan’s determination be enough to fight the demons lingering in Bentley’s shadow? Or is Bentley’s fear strong enough to tear them apart.
What a page turner this book is really better than I thought it would be. Bentley has so many layers to her you can’t help but fall in love with you and relate to her in many ways. Bentley and Tristan are both trying to get over some past hurts and problems. Tristan pushes Bentley’s buttons in a way that no other person has in a long time. They really don’t understand why they are each drawn to each other.
The author does a great job with the characters and the over story. I will be checking out the 2nd book.
I’m pacing the living room when I hear a car engine cut. Throwing the door open, I don’t even
bother putting on a shirt or shoes. I open her car door before she even has a chance to unbuckle her seat belt.
“What the fuck were you thinking? Dante is going fucking nuts. Did it even occur to you that someone might actually be worried about your ass? Answer your fucking phone once in a while.”
She gets out of the car, shuts the door, and turns to me to speak. Before she can hand me some half assed explanation, I have her up against the car, crushing her lips against mine. I had planned to be sweet about it but that shit went out the door with my impulse. I need to feel her, to taste her. I want to leave her breathless and unable to stand.
I slide my tongue between her lips, invading her mouth, and the taste of cinnamon tingling my tongue as I brush it back and forth against hers. I push into her even further digging my hands into her ass, pulling her up until she wraps her legs around my hips. I am at war with her mouth, needing to possess and dominate it as she fights back for control. I suck on her tongue each time she pushes back into my mouth, biting lightly on her bottom lip, and swallowing each small moan.
When I pull back to catch my breath, I am lost in the image before me. Her lips are swollen from my assault, her breathing heavy and erratic, and her eyes half lidded.
My dick is saluting her as it pushes up against her core. Before I can claim her lips again, a very loud and pissed off Dante interrupts us. As I set her back down, brushing my lips against her neck, I whisper a warning against her skin. “We’re not done princess. Just because your little queen interrupted, doesn’t mean I’m finished with you, not even close. And if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I’ll tie you to my fucking bed and spank that ass until you can’t walk. You understand me, Bentley, don’t pull that shit again.” Her eyes grow wide as she processes what I had just said. Biting her lip she nods in concession.
I watch, in reckless abandonment, the train wreck that unfolds in front of me as Dante throws a hissy fit that would put a three year old to shame. I can tell by the way Bentley keeps opening and closing her fists that this isn’t going to be pretty, and I am more than happy that for once I am not her target. I damn near choke on my own spit when the words fly from her mouth. “Look here pecker pilferer, just because you decide to be a fickle twat doesn’t mean I’m going to up and rearrange my agenda. Don’t stand here bitching at me about your panties all up in a twist while you’re douche-canoeing the seven seas. You fucked up, not me. I’m not the one who got all flustered over a fuck nut and decided to verbally vomit all of my best friend’s secrets. You had no fucking right, so do not stand here acting as if I somehow did you wrong. You can go suck on a big fat donkey dong if you think I’m about to apologize to you. Keep that shit up and I’ll bitch slap the glitter right out of your fairy princess ass.”
I have to wonder where the fuck she comes up with this shit. I can’t say I’ve ever heard half the shit she’s just called him, although even that last bit has me laughing. Only because Dante is the least fairy looking dude I’ve ever seen. The notion of him as a fairy princess ranks up there with seeing The Rock in a tutu… it just isn’t right.
I vaguely catch on to the sad attempt for an apology he feeds Bentley, and I busy myself by snatching her keys and grabbing her bag out of the car. It’s a shitty move leaving Dante to dig himself out of the hole he’s digging even deeper, but I have plans that I’d rather not waste trivial time getting to.
About the Author
Arie Lane is an avid reader and stay at home mom to two beautiful little boys. When not writing or chasing them around she is usually catching up with other Indie authors and constantly keeping up with new blogs.
She loves to connect with people and is proud that she finally had the courage to put some of her crazy thoughts into written words. From the time she started reading her nose was always stuck in a book and she’s couldn’t be happier that now she’s encouraging others to get their noses stuck also. Even if her readers are of the +18 variety.