Make Me Beg
Men of Gold Mountain #2
Rebecca Brooks
Publication Date: March 20, 2017
Genres: Adult, Entangled: Brazen, Contemporary, Romance
Bartender Mackenzie Ellinsworth has always gone it alone. So when she has a chance to open her own bar and restaurant, she’s got a plan for how it should go. Not in that plan: a ripped and rugged playboy stepping in to take over. Mack doesn’t do players, and she doesn’t do one-night stands. If Connor wants to work with Mack, he’s going to have to keep his strong, sexy hands to himself.
Connor Branding is determined to prove he’s not the directionless playboy Mack thinks. But opening a place together causes more problems than it solves. The two of them can’t agree on anything—except how scorching hot their chemistry is. Connor may be ready to indulge every desire Mack’s been denying herself…but turning business into pleasure is likely to get him burned.
“On your knees,” he commanded.
Oh fuck that was hot. Was she allowed to find that hot? Could she be independent, wear shut-the-fuck-up boots behind the bar, and still be slayed by such a command?
Apparently it didn’t matter what her brain thought on the subject, because her body was responding. She lurched forward, and he reached for her arm to help because of course it was hard to go from sitting to kneeling when you were blindfolded and your arms were tied behind your back and you were still debating whether you were even going to do this at all.
Or, more accurately, you were shouting at yourself that you were a fucking lunatic while you eagerly, desperately brought yourself into prime blow-job position as he took advantage of the shift to tweak your nipples through your shirt and you, starving for him as though you hadn’t just eaten an entire meal made up of small bites, wished he’d once again rip the buttons from your shirt and take what he already thought was his.
But Connor wasn’t playing it the way he had at the bar, when it had been reckless, fast, no time to stop and think through what was going on. This time he was slow, methodical, building her up so hot that it hurt.
“There you go,” he said when she was steady on her knees.
“Comfy?”
“Not really.”
“I have to tell you, you look fabulous.”
She bet she did.
“That’s nice. I wouldn’t know, since I can’t see a thing.”
“Ah, but you have you other senses. Taste, touch. I know because you made it clear how much you enjoyed everything I gave you.”
“Does that mean you still think I’ve been good?” She couldn’t decide if she wanted the answer to be yes or no; her thighs would have tightened in anticipation no matter what.
But then he said, “Not too good, I hope,” and it felt like warm water running down her body, melting her, that promise that he wasn’t going to tread lightly with her.
He was standing before her. She could tell because when she tilted her head forward, trying to orient herself in the darkness, her cheek grazed the front of his jeans. She felt flames shooting up inside her, her body ready to combust.
His thumb traced her lower lip, and she
flicked her tongue over it. When he stuck it in her mouth, she sucked.
“You’ll take anything in your mouth,” he said, standing over her like the dirty bastard he was.
She responded by biting down. He laughed and ran the wet thumb over her lips. “Are you going to behave?”
“That’s a risk for you, isn’t it?” She licked her lips and then bit the bottom one, tugging slightly, reminding him that she still had some power.
“You’ll take anything in your mouth,” he said, standing over her like the dirty bastard he was.
She responded by biting down. He laughed and ran the wet thumb over her lips. “Are you going to behave?”
“That’s a risk for you, isn’t it?” She licked her lips and then bit the bottom one, tugging slightly, reminding him that she still had some power.
Rebecca Brooks lives in New York City in an apartment filled with books. She received a PhD in English but decided it was more fun to write books than write about them. She has backpacked alone through India and Brazil, traveled by cargo boat down the Amazon River, climbed Mt. Kilimanjaro, explored ice caves in Peru, trekked to the source of the Ganges, and sunbathed in Burma, but she always likes coming home to a cold beer and her hot husband in the Bronx. Her books are about independent women who leave their old lives behind to try something new—and find the passion, excitement and purpose they didn’t know they’d been missing.
Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Newsletter | Amazon Author Profile
No comments:
Post a Comment