His job is to find her, not to fall for her…
Marsella Talent has been on the run for two years, ever since her father thrust a ledger into her hands and told her to run from the police swarming their family restaurant. Now, with the cops and her father’s men desperate to get their hands on the book, she knows she can never go home.
Jake never thought he’d see Marsella again, not after he helped her escape the night of the sting operation targeting her father, August Talent. So when he stumbles upon a mysterious woman named Cassie, the spitting image of Marsella, he knows he has to gain her trust to finally make up for the mistake he made years ago.
Only the closer he gets to her, the more irresistible he finds her. And soon he realizes he’ll have to make a choice—prove his loyalty by getting back the ledger, or save the woman that he’s growing to love…
AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | BOOK DEPOSITORY
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Sierra Kincade lives in the Midwest with her husband and son. When she’s not writing naughty books, she loves eating chocolate cupcakes, binge-watching cable series, and singing loudly in the car. She wholeheartedly believes that love stories are real, and you should never choose a partner who doesn’t make you laugh.
She was standing closer, though she didn’t remember moving. Her bare toes were right beside his socked feet. Her hips inches away from his. Their hands were between them, his so much larger and rougher than hers. His fingers stroked over the inside of her wrist, making her pulse jump.
The change slid over her again, like a warm silk blanket. The urge to touch him, feel him, now stronger than before because she’d already had a taste. Her fingers wanted more than the memory of his jaw. She wanted to feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, and to feel the flex of his muscles when she dragged her nails down his chest.
She wanted to touch him freely. To play the game they’d played before.
“Have you ever done that before?” She motioned to the clothesline, now on the counter. The question felt heavy, and serious. His answer had the power to hurt.
“No,” he said.
“Do you want to?”
His lids hooded. His breathing grew rough. “Where do you want me?”
She pulled her hand out of his, then took a step back. She pointed to the bed, relieved that he hadn’t assumed that he would be in charge.
“Sit on the end.”
She’d meant it as more of a suggestion, but it came out as a command instead. He nodded and went to the foot of her bed. The mattress squeaked as he sat down.
“Take off your shirt. Please,” she added.
He pulled it off from the back, dragging it over his head. Wisps of hair fell around his face. Her breath caught.
His left arm was painted by a sleeve of tattoos that extended from his wrist all the way over his shoulder. Ropes stretched to the point of fraying, knotted across his forearms and biceps. Storm clouds intertwined, covering the top corner of his chest. Other shapes fit between them. A broken clock. A lion that looked suspiciously Disney. A bird in flight. His arms flexed as he set the shirt beside him on the quilt, making the entire portrait stretch and change shape.
He was gorgeous.
She knew he would be; the lines of his face were strong and statuesque, the shadow on his jaw adding a roughness to his perfect features. His chest was muscular and well-defined, not overly bulky, covered by short, golden hair he’d kept trimmed.
She liked a man who took care of his body.
She flattened her hands on her belly, her breasts too sensitive against the thin fabric, her skin flushed. The ache at the apex of her thighs was growing stronger, more insistent.
One night, she told herself. For one night she could forget who she was. She could be anyone.
“Your turn?” he asked.
She shook her head. Reaching for the clothesline, she unwound it, hands shaking.
“Stand up and turn around,” she said.
He did as she asked. Coming closer, she put his arms together behind him, and carefully circled the rope around his wrists.
“Is that all right?”
There should have been more slack in the line, but there was something centering about the movement of the rope, over and around and down. As she went through the motions, she imagined what it would have felt like against her skin—the pressure of the bonds containing her, holding her together. Forcing her to be still and accept whatever pleasure he would give her. Just thinking about it made her tremble both with desire, and fear. It occurred to her that no matter how much she wanted it, she could not reciprocate this level of trust.
When the entire string was used, she tied it into a neat bow, fully aware that it was odd how pleased she was with the way it looked.
Every second that she’d bound him had raised her awareness of him. Her body was tight, her blood humming, but the act of tying him up had been slow and controlled. She wondered if he felt the same slow burn. If he liked it, as she did.
She leaned forward and kissed between his shoulder blades. His back arched at the contact, then pushed back for more. Her fingertips trailed down his arms to the belt loops of his jeans. Reaching around in front of him, she undid the button of his fly and slowly lowered the zipper by feel.
I'll be honest, I don't read erotica often and this is the first time I've read anything by Sierra Kincaid. I truly hate that I didn't stumble across her sooner. Her writing is smooth with a quick wit.
With Forsaken, we have the story of a girl who is a mafia princess. In fact, she's the boss's daughter. A few years before, she escaped capture by the feds with the help of a steamy hot guy.
Well, hot guy, Jake, stumbles across someone who looks exactly like the woman he let go free. Is she, or isn't she? He has to choose.
There is some danger and lots of parts that will make you fan yourself. So, if you enjoy romantic stories that hedge on the hot side, this one would be a good option.
- Winner will receive a $25.00 Barnes & Noble Gift Card.- 3 Winners will receive an E-Copy of Forsaken by Sierra Kincade.