I can’t believe my coach assigned me a tutor. I’m all that on the field and between the sheets—who cares about
my stupid grades?
But Claire doesn’t treat me like I’m dumb. When we’re not busy fighting, she actually encourages me. And with those sexy curves of hers, I know just how to thank her.
Claire:
I hate football players, but I need the money. Jake is just as cocky and arrogant as the worst of them … but his touch sets me on fire.
I have to believe he’s different, that he won’t use me and break my heart. Because I can’t stop wanting him. I just hope I survive the ride.
But Claire doesn’t treat me like I’m dumb. When we’re not busy fighting, she actually encourages me. And with those sexy curves of hers, I know just how to thank her.
Claire:
I hate football players, but I need the money. Jake is just as cocky and arrogant as the worst of them … but his touch sets me on fire.
I have to believe he’s different, that he won’t use me and break my heart. Because I can’t stop wanting him. I just hope I survive the ride.
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A
few minutes later my phone vibrated on the table,
and I read a text message that sent shivers down my body. I want you, Claire. I'll make you beg. I'll fuck you until you can't
feel your legs. Whisper in your ear to come for me while you dig your nails
into my back.
“Oh
my God,” I blushed uncontrollably as his hand made its way back onto my legs.
“Jake, stop!”
“Do
you really want me to?” he whispered, moving steadily upward. “Tell me you
really want me to, and I will.”
I
should have. I knew that I should have. I should have made Jake stop. We were in the library, for crying
out loud. People studied there. And we weren’t alone.
I
looked around. I didn’t see any cameras. At the same time, that sneaky hand
reached the inside of my thigh. I gasped, closing my eyes.
“I’ll
stop. I will.” His hand disappeared up my skirt.
I
opened my legs slightly, aching for his touch.
“Hmm,”
he whispered, “I think you want me to keep going.”
Tia
Lewis is a romance author from the Midwest who writes about smart, sexy, sassy
women and hot, possessive alpha males. Her favorite bad boys to write about
include sports players, mafia, bikers, billionaires and the bad-ass next door.
You can find her cooking, reading, or traveling when she’s not busy working on
her next release.
A
few minutes later my phone vibrated on the table,
and I read a text message that sent shivers down my body. I want you, Claire. I'll make you beg. I'll fuck you until you can't
feel your legs. Whisper in your ear to come for me while you dig your nails
into my back.
“Oh
my God,” I blushed uncontrollably as his hand made its way back onto my legs.
“Jake, stop!”
“Do
you really want me to?” he whispered, moving steadily upward. “Tell me you
really want me to, and I will.”
I
should have. I knew that I should have. I should have made Jake stop. We were in the library, for crying
out loud. People studied there. And we weren’t alone.
I
looked around. I didn’t see any cameras. At the same time, that sneaky hand
reached the inside of my thigh. I gasped, closing my eyes.
“I’ll
stop. I will.” His hand disappeared up my skirt.
I
opened my legs slightly, aching for his touch.
“Hmm,”
he whispered, “I think you want me to keep going.”
Tia
Lewis is a romance author from the Midwest who writes about smart, sexy, sassy
women and hot, possessive alpha males. Her favorite bad boys to write about
include sports players, mafia, bikers, billionaires and the bad-ass next door.
You can find her cooking, reading, or traveling when she’s not busy working on
her next release.
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