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.”

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

Since I’m pretty sure I’ve shared their first kiss before, here’s a later scene I hope you’ll like:

Paul could honestly say he hadn’t seen ‘sex with Bailey’ as even a remote option when he fired up the Cessna. He’d figured the trip would involve a lot of pacing in hospital waiting rooms and ferrying OC back and forth from the hotel.

To wind up sharing a room with Bailey…a pleasant surprise. To be invited back into her life as a confidant of her worst fear, to hold her, kiss her…damn, he couldn’t quite get his head around the bounty.

“I want you worse than when we were in high school,” she’d said.

He knew exactly what she meant. He’d gone hard the moment she’d pulled off her T-shirt.

Every inch of her skin smelled like honey and roses. He wanted to go slow, remember every sensation, but Bailey had never been patient. Once she made up her mind to do something, it got done.

“Do you remember our first time?” he asked unbuttoning his shirt.

She brushed his fingers aside and took over. One, two, three, pull out shirt tails, four, five… “We came close so many times, but I think it was in my barn, right? The hayloft. Your Boy Scout sleeping bag.”

He unbuckled his belt and unzipped while she pulled the belt through the loops. “The hay smelled good but the sleeping bag wasn’t thick enough to keep the poking parts from poking you.”

His belt joined her shirt on the floor. By wordless agreement, they both wiggled out of their jeans. Her panties didn’t match her bra. Lime green bikinis with black polka dots. “Cute.”

She touched the raised fabric of his navy blue stretch boxer briefs. “No more tighty whities.”

His breath caught in his throat as her hand cupped his erection. “Not since college.” Not since Jen started shopping for him.

She turned her attention to his bare chest. “Your muscles are so filled out. Chiseled, even. From swinging a hammer, I suppose. You’re so manly, now.” Her tone held a hint of teasing, but he thought he detected a bit of wistfulness, too. He felt the same.

“You’re thinner and more voluptuous. How is that possible?”

She flexed her bare arm to show her well-defined biceps. “Exercise. For a while after the accident, I couldn’t do anything. I felt like my body was melting into the sheets. As soon as I started physical therapy, I went gung-ho. One of my trainers, who also became my friend, called me Bailing Wired.”

He squeezed the muscle. “Hey, that was my nickname for you.”

“That’s what I told her. Although I was never sure it was a compliment.”

He locked fingers with her and leaned in close enough to nibble her neck. “It was. I admired your drive and fearlessness. Scared the bejesus out of me at times, but, man, you were something to watch.”

She moved her head and shoulder in a way that told him she was enjoying his touch. He trailed his tongue to a pronounced bump on her clavicle. A broken collarbone from falling off a horse when she was ten. A scare like that might have stopped other kids, but not Bailey Jenkins. From what her mother told him, she was back in the saddle while her arm was in a sling.

She dropped back on her elbows. “This,” she said, shifting to her right side to touch her collarbone, “was the first of many. Two cracked ribs. My kneecap is all screwed up. I broke my elbow, but it’s stronger since I started lifting weights. A couple of toes. And fingers. And that’s not even counting my ankle.”

He slid off the bed so he could start at her feet. “Which toes?”

She wiggled her left foot. He kissed them all, which made her laugh.

“And your right ankle.”

“Obviously.”

The scar wasn’t as furious a red as when she first arrived in Marietta. He nuzzled his cheek against her wound, their gaze locked. “I’m sorry you were injured, but I’ve got a few war wounds of my own, you know.”

He licked the inside of both her knees.

“You do?”

“Viral paper cuts. I give myself a yearly bonus to make up for the grievance.”

~~~

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.”

Happy reading, my friends,

Deb

KOBO AMAZON iBOOKS BN

I downloaded a new copy just to see if it worked and wound up reading–and sniffling over–the first chapter. I’d forgotten how much I loved Paul and Bailey.

Since I’m pretty sure I’ve shared their first kiss before, here’s a later scene I hope you’ll like:

Paul could honestly say he hadn’t seen ‘sex with Bailey’ as even a remote option when he fired up the Cessna. He’d figured the trip would involve a lot of pacing in hospital waiting rooms and ferrying OC back and forth from the hotel.

To wind up sharing a room with Bailey…a pleasant surprise. To be invited back into her life as a confidant of her worst fear, to hold her, kiss her…damn, he couldn’t quite get his head around the bounty.

“I want you worse than when we were in high school,” she’d said.

He knew exactly what she meant. He’d gone hard the moment she’d pulled off her T-shirt.

Every inch of her skin smelled like honey and roses. He wanted to go slow, remember every sensation, but Bailey had never been patient. Once she made up her mind to do something, it got done.

“Do you remember our first time?” he asked unbuttoning his shirt.

She brushed his fingers aside and took over. One, two, three, pull out shirt tails, four, five… “We came close so many times, but I think it was in my barn, right? The hayloft. Your Boy Scout sleeping bag.”

He unbuckled his belt and unzipped while she pulled the belt through the loops. “The hay smelled good but the sleeping bag wasn’t thick enough to keep the poking parts from poking you.”

His belt joined her shirt on the floor. By wordless agreement, they both wiggled out of their jeans. Her panties didn’t match her bra. Lime green bikinis with black polka dots. “Cute.”

She touched the raised fabric of his navy blue stretch boxer briefs. “No more tighty whities.”

His breath caught in his throat as her hand cupped his erection. “Not since college.” Not since Jen started shopping for him.

She turned her attention to his bare chest. “Your muscles are so filled out. Chiseled, even. From swinging a hammer, I suppose. You’re so manly, now.” Her tone held a hint of teasing, but he thought he detected a bit of wistfulness, too. He felt the same.

“You’re thinner and more voluptuous. How is that possible?”

He squeezed the muscle. “Hey, that was my nickname for you.”

“That’s what I told her. Although I was never sure it was a compliment.”

He locked fingers with her and leaned in close enough to nibble her neck. “It was. I admired your drive and fearlessness. Scared the bejesus out of me at times, but, man, you were something to watch.”

He slid off the bed so he could start at her feet. “Which toes?”

She wiggled her left foot. He kissed them all, which made her laugh.

“And your right ankle.”

“Obviously.”

The scar wasn’t as furious a red as when she first arrived in Marietta. He nuzzled his cheek against her wound, their gaze locked. “I’m sorry you were injured, but I’ve got a few war wounds of my own, you know.”

He licked the inside of both her knees.

“You do?”

“Viral paper cuts. I give myself a yearly bonus to make up for the grievance.”

Hey, what’s lovemaking without a little humor? 😉

If you’ve already downloaded MONTANA COWGIRL, I hope you’ll share this blog with your reader friends. WHO DOESN’T LOVE FREE?

Happy reading,

Deb

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