FREE KISS=TUESDAY from SOME GIRLS DO by AMY ANDREWS

 

SOMEGIRLSDOcover

SOME GIRLS DO

BY

AMY ANDREWS

“So what’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?” she asked.

He raised his gaze to her face and laughed. “I think that’s my line.”

Lacey shrugged. “Told you I was forward. And besides, if you don’t mind me saying, you’re kind of sucking at the pick-up lines.”

“You want a line?” His mouth quirked up at one side. “How about this? You have impressive ball skills.”

Lacey hadn’t been expecting something so blatant and she was stunned for a moment before she laughed. “Play your cards right and I’ll give you a personal demonstration.”

He laughed too and it vibrated through her belly with all the subtlety, finesse and potency of a jackhammer. Lacey squirmed against the stool as heat flooded her abdomen.

She’d never been this hot for a guy.

“Seriously,” he said, sobering and his intense blue gaze caught and held hers. “Where’d you learn to shoot a combo?”

The laughter from earlier dried up from the inside out. She shrugged. “A girl with brothers learns a lot of useless things. How to hook a worm and gut a fish … how to make cricket stumps out of just about anything … how to skip stones … light a fire …”

How to never ever cry lest they get that stricken helpless look and send you away.

“I imagine a girl with brothers would also learn not to let some guy pick her up in a bar,” he murmured.

Hell yeah, she’d learned that one too. It’d been drummed into her — by Ethan particularly — just before he’d driven her two hundred kilometres from the only home she’d ever known to the college they’d insisted she still attend, despite her overwhelming grief.

But they couldn’t have it both ways. They couldn’t send her away and expect her to still live by their rules.

“Hey,” he said as he pushed a stray lock of hair off her forehead with his index finger. “Where’d you go?”

Lacey blinked as his blue eyes searched hers, frightened he could see everything — her hurt, her pain, the nagging homesickness that never seemed to go away.

No. She would not think about home tonight.

Quickly, she tipped her head back and drained her beer in three swallows. “You want to get out of here?”

Lacey could tell Coop was deciding whether or not to push her further on the subject. When he, too, drained his beer she almost sagged in relief. “My place is three blocks away.”

She smiled at him. “Perfect.”

He was ushering her through the entrance doors to his apartment complex ten minutes later. Lacey had no recollection of the trip. Not with his hand in the small of her back, his thumb stroking a lazy pattern through her shirt and streaking heat like a fork of lightning up her spine.

He pushed the lift button and Lacey glanced at him. The urge to kiss him pulsed inside her.

“If you keep looking at me like that,” he said, his voice full of gravel, his gaze firmly fixed on her mouth, “we’re not going to make to the apartment.”

Lacey’s gut clenched as the rumble in his tone abraded the hairs at the back of her neck, rubbed like sandpaper against her nipples and tingled between her thighs. It was only the ding of the lift that saved them from making out on the parquetry floor.

But the second the doors closed and they were alone, he was pushing her against the wall and she was grabbing his shirt and nothing could have stopped her from accepting the full-frontal assault of his mouth as it slammed hot and hard onto hers.

Lacey moaned as his fingers tangled in her hair and his tongue tangoed with hers. He groaned against her mouth and her belly tightened.

Crap. If the man screwed like he kissed she was a goner.

The lift dinged again and Lacey whimpered as Coop dragged his lips away and pressed his forehead to hers. Their heavy breathing filled the lift as the door slid open. “Don’t plan on getting any sleep tonight.”

freeSomeGirlsDO

 

AMZ US http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B015GEUFCW

AMZ UK http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B015GEUFCW

AMZ OZ http://www.amazon.com.au/Some-Girls-Outback-Heat-Book-ebook/dp/B015GEUFCW

AMZ CANADA  http://www.amazon.ca/Some-Girls-Outback-Heat-Book-ebook/dp/B015GEUFCW

iBooks – https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/some-girls-do/id1062128064?mt=11

Kobo – https://store.kobobooks.com/en-ca/ebook/some-girls-do-9

Nook – http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/some-girls-do-amy-andrews/1123200760


 Amy Andrews is an award-winning, USA Today best-selling Aussie author who has written over fifty steamy contemporary romances in both the traditional and digital markets. She loves good books, fab food, great wine and frequent travel – preferably all four together. She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane with a gorgeous mountain view but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.

Happy reading, my friends,

Deb

FIRST KISS=TUESDAY (from Limbo by Amy Andrews)

First Kiss= TUESDAY

LimboFinal

Limbo

By

Amy Andrews

fn0NT7DB_200x200I’m so pleased to welcome back multi-award winning and USA Today bestselling author Amy Andrews to the FIRST KISS blog. Amy 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.

Amy works part-time as a PICU nurse and spent six years on the national executive of Romance Writers of Australia where she organized two national conferences and undertook a two year term as president. She loves good books, fab food, great wine and frequent travel – preferably all four together. She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane with a gorgeous mountain view but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.

Are you ready for your kiss? Pucker up and read:

ALERT: language and mature subject matter (cold shower optional)

 

She turned abruptly again and looked at him in that direct, serious way of hers. ‘You got beer in this fridge?’

‘Yep.’ Christ. She was making him monosyllabic.

She grinned, turned, opened the fridge, leaned over — seriously, that ass — and pulled out two beers.

Dash moved closer, keeping the desk between them as she passed him one, and he took it, thankful to have something to do with his hands other than putting them all over her. ‘What time is your flight leaving?’

‘Five a.m.’

‘Oh…’ Seven long hours. ‘So…’

She nodded as she cracked the lid then took her first swallow. ‘I have all night.’ She walked around the desk towards him and Dash, not for the first time, wished his office was bigger. She stopped right in front of him, only millimetres separating them and looked up at him. Considering he was six three and she couldn’t be more than five four, she had to tip her head back quite a ways.

‘Whatever shall we do?’ she asked.

Dash had two options. Play it coy and extricate himself, or tackle the elephant in the room.

Or the pixie, as the case may be.

‘Don’t you think I’m a little too old for you?’

She shrugged. ‘Too old to marry, sure. To fuck? Not necessarily.’

Dash swallowed as her deliberate profanity went straight to his dick. ‘Are you always this direct?’

A small smile played on her otherwise serious mouth. ‘Am I shocking you?’

‘The last time I saw you, you were a kid with your head buried in Edgar Allen Poe.’

She placed a hand on his chest and he felt it all the way to his groin. ‘I’m twenty-three. Welcome to the future.’

Twenty-three. Christ! ‘I’m thirty-five years old, Joy. Maybe you should be playing with boys your own age?’

‘I don’t like to limit myself.’

Her hand dropped to the button of his jeans and he quickly grabbed it before it went any lower. ‘I thought I wasn’t your type.’

She shrugged. ‘What can I say? I’m fickle.’

‘I thought you said you weren’t fucking me tonight?’

‘Hence the aforementioned fickleness.’

Dash was trying damn hard to be a gentleman here. She was Pete’s little sister for crying out loud. ‘I don’t think Pete would approve,’ he said, clutching at mental straws now. ‘There is a guy code, you know.’

‘And when was the last time you saw Pete? Fifteen years ago?’

Yeh. He sucked at keeping in touch.

‘I think,’ she said, raising herself up on her tippy toes and tilting her head until their mouths were almost touching, their drinks trapped between their combined bodies, ‘there’s a statute of limitations for guy code stuff and you are well and truly absolved from your responsibilities. It’s just sex, Dash. Recreational sex. I’m getting a plane to the other side of the planet in seven hours. I’m not interested in anything past tonight.’

And she planted a beer-infused kiss on his mouth that was like rocket fuel to his groin.

Screw it. He removed the beers, plonked them on the desk beside him then reached for the cheeks of her ass and hauled her up his body, slamming his mouth into hers, welcoming the feel of her legs as they locked around his waist.

Her tongue pushed into his mouth as he took three paces, pushing her against the wall near the door, groping for the light switch, plunging them into darkness.

Here’s a link that will take you to:

 AMAZON


 

THANKS for sharing, Amy!  Please come again. 

Deb

FIRST KISS=TUESDAY (from ASK ME NICELY by Amy Andrews)

kissing image

fn0NT7DB_200x200I’m so pleased to welcome multi-award winning and USA Today bestselling author Amy Andrews to the FIRST KISS blog. Amy 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.

Amy works part-time as a PICU nurse and spent six years on the national executive of Romance Writers of Australia where she organized two national conferences and undertook a two year term as president. She loves good books, fab food, great wine and frequent travel – preferably all four together. She lives on acreage on the outskirts of Brisbane with a gorgeous mountain view but secretly wishes it was the hillsides of Tuscany.

AMN_500

 

ASK ME NICELY

BY

AMY ANDREWS

ALERT: language and mature subject matter (cold shower optional)

And then she was up again, twirling away from him, and he was watching her in the half light, drinking his beer as she grabbed a tray and some baking paper and the frozen tube of dough from the freezer. Five minutes later, she was slipping a tray of twelve cookies into the oven.

“Ta-da,” she said, smiling over her shoulder at him as she shut the oven door. “In ten minutes, piping-hot biscuits.”

“Wow,” he said, not wanting to admit even to himself what a turn-on it had been to watch her moving around the kitchen like some scantily clad fifties housewife. Even though he didn’t want a fifties housewife and he was pretty damn sure she’d kick him in the nuts if he even suggested it. “You don’t mess around.”

She shrugged, and a small smile touched a perfect bow mouth that he’d dreamed about a little too often. “I want what I want.”

Doyle nodded. Somehow he just knew that speculative gleam in her eyes spelled trouble.

He tracked her movement as she picked up her beer off the counter near the oven and moved back around to where she’d been sitting before she got all domesticated. She smiled at him before taking a long pull of her beer, her head tipped back, her gaze firmly fixed on his face. The warm glow from the range hood illuminated the pale stretch of her throat, and Doyle watched it move as she swallowed, aware of her eyes on him. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand as she pulled the bottle from her lips, her eyes roaming his neck, his chest, his thighs on another sexy search-and-destroy mission.

“You have a great body,” she finally said as her gaze returned to his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you that.”

Doyle blinked at both the directness of her statement and the sudden hot jolt that streaked through his loins. What the hell did she expect him to say to that? He took a deliberately measured swallow of cold, bitter beer. “Considering you barely tell me hello most days, I’m not surprised.”

She feigned a hurt expression as she toyed with the beer she’d nestled at the juncture of her thighs, picking at the label. Doyle did not want to think about the latent phallic signals. Not when he was fairly certain she’d done it deliberately. Desire coiled tight in his belly as his smoldering loins inched closer to combustion.

“I say hello.”

Doyle quirked an eyebrow at her. They both knew her hellos were perfunctory at best. “Plus officially you’re my boss and that could be classed as sexual harassment.”

She smiled at him then, those blue eyes of hers dancing a flirty little dance with his. Bewitching. Beguiling. Breathtaking.

Gypsy eyes.

No wonder men flocked to her. When Sally Kennedy wanted to, she could really turn it on.

“That’s not sexual harassment,” she said, putting her beer down. “This is sexual harassment.”

And, as Chris Isaak started to sing baby did a bad, bad thing, she leaned in and pressed her mouth to his. Doyle groaned as the kiss hit him at full speed, her mouth opening, her tongue gliding over his lips and pushing into his mouth. His hand slid into her hair, cupping the back of her head as she melted against him, his beer bottle clinking against hers as he shoved it on the bench. His thumb angled her jaw as every trace of common sense fled. Heat and blind lust boiled and seethed through every cell of his body, propelled by the deep, rapid thud of his heart.

He’d been fantasizing about this moment from the second she’d scowled at him and told him she didn’t screw the crew, and it was better than he’d imagined. She tasted like Cuervo and beer and smelled like cookie dough, and he wanted to lick every inch of her. He wanted to lay her out on the counter beside him, where they ate a near-silent breakfast every morning, and feast.

She grabbed the front of his T-shirt as if trying to get nearer, and he slid his hands onto her butt, obliging her, tugging her, dragging her closer to the rampant heat and hardness between his legs as the kiss grew hotter. His dick throbbed, and he wanted to feel her on him, around him, so fucking bad.

Her hands pushed under his shirt, molding his belly and his pecs, her fingernails dragging across his nipples as he thrust his tongue in and out of her mouth in time to the grind of her hips. His head spun as his senses filled with the smell of her.

Chocolate chips and aroused woman.

Beer and tequila.

Fuck. He’d wanted to taste her from that first day, and he was starving. He wanted to tip the rest of the Cuervo over her and lap it from her skin, finding all the places it ran.

Her hand landed on his rock-hard cock, squeezing it before dipping inside his shorts and grabbing hold. The bold move dragged him under and pushed him out all at the same time.

Jee-zus. So freaking good. But…

Fuck. What was going on here? What was he doing?

He couldn’t bite back the groan that escaped his throat even as his hand landed on her wrist and he tore his mouth from hers.

“Okay…whoa,” he said, holding her tight and reaching for a slither of sanity inside a head completely addled by lust. “Stop.” Fuck. How did they get here so quickly?

Buy it here: NICELY

 


 

Now, that’s how they do a first kiss in Australia apparently– hot and then some! THANKS for sharing, Amy! Please come again. 

Deb