One More Kiss: A Second Chance Romance (One More Series Book 1)

by Roxy Sinclaire

  roxy@roxysinclaire.com

  Also by Roxy Sinclaire

  Romance Sampler Bundles:

  Book Boyfriends

  Pass To Win Series:

  Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 1)

  Line of Scrimmage: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Book 2)

  Between The Tackles: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 3)

  Fourth and Goal: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 4)

  Game Winning Catch: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Book 5)

  Mafia Romance Series:

  Dirty Indiscretions: A Dark Mafia Romance (Book 1)

  Her Protection: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Book 2)

  Deadly Ink: A Dark Mafia Romance (Book 3)

  His Revenge: A Mafia Revenge Romance (Book 4)

  His Betrayal: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Book 5)

  Romantic Secret Agents Series:

  Lethal Seduction (Book 1)

  Deadly Seduction (Book 2)

  Toxic Seduction (Book 3)

  Deadly Passion Series:

  High Stakes (Book 1)

  Double or Nothing (Book 2)

  Triple Threat (Book 3)

  City Bad Boys Series:

  Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance (Book 1)

  Entitled: A Bad Boy Romance (Book 2)

  Tempting Me: A Bad Boy Romance (Book 3)

  Fast And Loaded: A Bad Boy Romance (Book 4)

  One More Series:

  One More Kiss (Book 1)

  One More Turn (Book 2)

  One More Chance (Book 3)

  Standalone Novels

  One Night With The Tycoon: A Billionaire Romance

  Dirty Fighter: A Bad Boy MMA Romance

  The Devil’s Dream: A Dark Romance

  Trapped In His World: A Dark Romance

  Dirty Money: A Dark Mafia Romance

  Deceived By The Hitman: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance

  Excerpt From Touchdown

  Excerpt from Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

  My head was still buzzing from the weekend’s excitement on Monday morning. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that I saw a vulnerable side to Alexa Hall. She tries to appear so perfect, but it was nice to see that she’s human too.

  I was excited to see her in Sociology class. I couldn’t sleep last night because I was thinking about what I would say to her.

  She always sat directly in front of me, so maybe I would lean down and whisper something in her ear. It would be like an inside joke between us. Or, I could just flash her a seductive, knowing smile and watch her blush. I don’t mean to brag, but it’s too easy for me to make girls blush.

  Maybe I’d just go for it and ask her out. Say something about how I want to spend another night with her that ends with both of us being conscious. I was nervous, but it was the perfect moment. I really felt like we made a special connection Saturday night.

  I got to the classroom a little earlier than normal to make sure I had enough time to talk to her before the lecture started. I was feeling a bit anxious, but ready. It was now or never.

  A few minutes passed. She was usually in her seat by now, with her notebook and pen out, ready to take notes. Her hair always draped over the back of her chair. Sometimes, a few locks would fall onto my knees and I would carefully brush them away with my finger.

  The professor entered and began the lecture. No Alexa. I figured she must be sick. Maybe her hangover was so bad that she was still not feeling well today. I was a little concerned. I pulled out my phone and texted her.

  Are you sick? Do you want me to take notes for you? We can meet up later and I’ll fill you in on what you missed in class.

  I hit send. This was just as good. It would give me a perfect reason to see her again. Because it had to do with school, she would never accuse me of trying any funny business with her.

  I checked my phone a few minutes later. No response. Poor girl, maybe she was really sick. Would it be weird if I showed up at her dorm later? Maybe with flowers or chicken soup and apologize to her for getting her so drunk?

  I tried to take good notes, but I kept getting distracted. I was daydreaming a hundred different scenarios where I approached Alexa and she was so thankful that I took care of her that she wanted to show her appreciation. Any possibility from a nice dinner, to a kiss, to a night in my bed—I thought of them all.

  Before I knew it, class was over. I followed the herd of students exiting through the door in the back of the classroom. That’s when I saw Alexa, quickly stuffing her books in her bag. She never sits in the back row of classrooms. That’s where the slackers sit, and she was definitely not that. I called out to her, but she was already lost in the crowd.

  I felt confused. I was so nice to her and I really thought she had a good time with me. She wanted to come back to my place, and when that obviously didn’t happen, she told me I was nice. That’s a lot coming from this girl. She seemed to have a general mistrust of men, and I thought I had finally broken through by proving to her that I just want to be good to her.

  Now I was angry. I texted her with concern about her well-being and she didn’t even have the decency to respond? She deliberately avoided me and ignored me when I wanted to talk to her. I could have any girl I want, and she knows that. Did she hate me so much that she couldn’t even look at me?

  I was right. My friends told me that she was worth pursuing, and they were totally wrong about that. She was a cold person. She only cared about herself. Of course she would, though. Girls who come from money never have interest in guys like me. I was stupid to think that this was going to work out.

  I fumed the whole way back to my dorm. It was probably better this way. Before long, the school year would be over. I didn’t have time to chase girls, anyway.

  I needed to focus on finishing up my degree and preparing for the professional football combine. With any luck, I would be moving, and she’d go back to her hometown, or wherever rich girls go when they graduate with a degree they’ll never use.

  I was done with Alexa Hall. I had been turned down by plenty of girls in my life, and it was no big deal. I was just so surprised that she, of all people, wanted nothing to do with me.

  In my anger, I typed out a text, my fingers shaking.

  Sorry I made sure you got home safely the other night. I didn’t think it would upset you this much. Next time, I’ll leave you on the street, puking your guts out.

  My finger hovered over the send button before I quickly deleted it. I didn’t need to make things worse than they already were. I decided to take a page from Alexa’s book and just ignore her too. I’ve been dumped many times for doing the wrong thing with girls. This was just the first time I was ever rejected for doing the right thing.

  Click HERE to continue reading Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance

  Excerpt From Dirty Indiscretions

  Excerpt from Dirty Indiscretions: A Dark Mafia Romance (Book 1)

  I walked around the spacious room, keeping an eye on the guests. I could think of a dozen things off the top of my head, that I would rather be doing, but it was part my job description, apparently.

  I wasn’t a guy that liked to wear suits, but I'd had to get used to it with the crowd I ran with. Still, dealing with the upper crust wasn’t a part of my job that I liked. I was supposed to be there to enjoy the events, not working; but I couldn’t help but act as a lookout. The party was boring, anyway.

  And then she caught my eye, and I had second thoughts.

  Tall, slim, in a close-fitting black dress with a slit up the side that stopped high on her thigh, showing a mile of pale, toned leg. The dress had a 'V' neckline, down the front and back, that showed, even more, skin, so pale that the contrast against the dark dress was striking. The hem nearly swept the floor, even with her high heels. Her dark brown hair was held back by pins on one side so that it hung down her back and onto her opposite shoulder. I wasn’t close enough to see her eyes, but I thought with her coloring, they would be a dark color like her ha
ir, maybe brown.

  She wasn’t the best dressed, nor was she the skimpiest dressed woman in the room, I could see that with just a cursory look around. Yet, when I took my eyes off her to do just that, I found my attention skittering back to her.

  I didn’t think I knew her. That wouldn’t be surprising; I didn’t know a lot of the people at this party, considering I was technically just the help. But I'd been to enough of these parties that I knew the crowd my boss ran with.

  Intrigued, I followed her around the room. She interested me more than most, because unlike everybody else, she didn’t find a group and stand around chatting with them. Instead, she moved around the room, never sticking to one group long, always with a glass of champagne in her hand that she never drank from, though she brought it to her lips a couple of times, only to be 'distracted' and forget about it again. I noticed, that in all the stops she made, she didn’t speak to anyone.

  I narrowed my eyes.

  I looked around. Everyone was busy, making polite conversation and whatever else those rich types did when they got together at a party. I caught sight of my boss on the other side of the room and decided that for once, he wasn’t doing anything shady. No one was paying attention to things they shouldn’t, yet this woman didn’t look like she was paying attention to anything specifically.

  Trying not to act suspicious, I moved into her orbit. She wasn’t following a pattern, but I'd gotten good at maneuvering this sort of shindig.

  I was lucky enough to have her coming closer to me. No one was close enough to pay any notice to either one of us. I couldn’t resist the urge to move and intercept her circuit.

  She looked up, almost surprised, to see me. I'd seen her moving with single-minded focus, despite how randomly she seemed to move, so I wasn’t sure I bought that she was surprised to run into me.

  "Please, forgive me for interrupting you, ma'am, but I couldn’t help but notice you and get a little curious." I gave her a genuine-looking smile, playing the part of a young gentleman.

  It was almost laughable.

  The surprised look was instantaneously replaced by something gracious, a small smile curving her lips. "Think nothing of it. Who, if I may ask, do I have the pleasure of conversing with?"

  She held her hand out to me, the curl of her lips turning up into something like mirth. Feeling amusement curve my own mouth in response, I took her hand and brought it to my lips, kissing the back of it. Her dark eyes watched me, intent on mine.

  "Luke Bable. But please, call me Luke."

  Bable, technically, wasn’t my real name, but it was the name I’d taken when I’d left my old life after being recruited. It was a safe enough name to use, the few times I’d had to introduce myself to people because Luke Bable did not exist.

  The pretty lady in front of me didn’t need to know all that, though.

  "It's wonderful to meet you, Luke. I am Elda Abba. But you can call me Elda," she added, her smile turning into a smirk.

  "Elda," I repeated, curling my tongue around the name. Her eyes grew slightly darker in fascination, and I felt almost smug. Her last name was foreign, but I couldn’t begin to think from where. "Well, Elda. I was wondering if you would mind accompanying me."

  I tugged her closer by the hand, pulling it around my elbow and flattening my hand over hers on my arm. She moved without resistance.

  "Should I be worried? A strange man comes up to me and asks me to accompany him. It's suspicious, no?"

  I chuckled, keeping my voice low. "It’s a private party. Trust me, everyone is vetted for these things. We're both here, so you should have nothing to worry about," I said pointedly.

  Her lashes lowered to cover her eyes, lips pursing. "As you say," she murmured, diplomatically.

  I pulled her with me and she followed. We avoided other guests and the staff. The room was quite large and littered with guests, but I didn’t need to take her from it.

  Instead, I dragged her over to a corner that left us out of view from most of the room, and the section that could still see us weren’t going to be considering dark corners unless they wanted some action for themselves. But this crowd was much too classy for something like that.

  I stopped her there, turning so we were facing each other and took a quick glance around, just to be sure.

  "Are we here for any reason in particular?" she sounded amused.

  I decided to be blunt. "I need to frisk you."

  Just about any other person would have been annoyed or insulted. No one got frisked at these parties, they were checked before they got this far. This woman was a little special, though.

  "Is there any particular reason?" she murmured, looking up at me from under her lashes, but I thought her amusement only grew.

  "I never saw your name on the guest list."

  She gave a Gallic shrug. "Maybe I was invited last minute and my name isn’t on it."

  I smiled tightly, repeating, "Just the same, Miss Abba, I'm going to need to frisk you."

  "There's no reason you can't still call me Elda." She tugged her hand away from me and I didn’t stop her. "And of course, you can frisk me. For purely security reasons."

  I narrowed my eyes on her. "Are you laughing at me, Elda?"

  "I wouldn’t dream of it, Luke."

  I was sure she was, though.

  She took a step back and raised her arms from her sides, arching an eyebrow at me, her look practically daring me to go ahead.

  I couldn’t help the suspicion. These parties had such tight security, even I was impressed. No one not on the list—prepared weeks in advance, should have been able to bypass it. How she got in, I didn’t know, but I didn't think asking would get me anywhere. She'd just deny, deny, deny.

  Or, if she was especially good, she'd have an airtight excuse.

  "You can frisk me," she told me when I didn’t immediately begin.

  I moved closer, moving my hands and placing my fingertips on her wrists. There was no need, her arms were bare so there was no way she could have hidden anything there, but I ran my fingertips up her arms and to her shoulders. I followed the straps of her dress, sliding my hands down her sides and around her back, being thorough.

  Of course, there was nothing on her. I also noticed the very conspicuous lack of a purse on her person. And what self-respecting woman, even in a crowd like this, wouldn’t have a purse on her? I didn’t see her coming in, so there was no way to know if she had one somewhere in the room. I'd have to leave her and go ask the guard outside the main entrance.

  But I couldn’t think about that for long. I couldn’t really think of anything but slowly frisking her, all the time my eyes on hers.

  When I got to her hips, I lowered into a crouch, craning my neck to keep her eyes.

  "Widen your legs for me, just a bit." The words came out in a murmur, and I saw her swallow, felt her body shift under my hands as she moved to comply.

  I'd looked at her body long enough to know every curve, even as I mapped them with my hands—for purely business purposes, of course—but I hadn't gotten a good look at her eyes. They were brown, like I'd guessed, but not a dull brown like I was used to seeing. Even in the slightly shadowed corner, they seemed to glimmer.

  They were surprisingly familiar eyes. But right then, all I was interested in was how intently they watched me.

  Click HERE to continue reading Dirty Indiscretions: A Dark Mafia Romance

  Excerpt From Lethal Seduction

  Excerpt from Lethal Seduction: A CIA Romantic Suspense

  Fourteen hours was a long drive to make, especially if you made it in one shot and didn’t do more than stop for gas and to piss. He hadn’t bothered to sleep either before he got on the road. He ate fast food and paid for everything in cash, leaving no paper trail. It had been a part of the brief training that involved disappearing and leaving nothing but a body.

  Making a job of killing people would surely affect his view of the world, or it should. He should be jaded and angry, suffering from the ghos
ts of the people he killed. But he felt nothing, which worried him to some degree. If he felt no remorse, how did that separate him from any other bloodthirsty killer? Was it because he was getting paid? That he was government contracted?

  Was he bloodthirsty? Did he enjoy dealing out death?

  He didn’t think so. He didn’t look forward to the next mark that took up his inbox. It wasn’t the next chance to put a bullet in someone or glide his knife through their throat. He didn’t look for inventive new ways to kill people. He made sure to make it quick and as painless as he possibly could. There was no need to make them suffer.

  There was something sacred about taking the life of another person, and he didn’t really want to lord over them like some sort of death god. A quiet Grim Reaper that swept in to take a life was something he preferred. It held a nice image for him.

  He made quite the small fortune living this life. His bank account attested to that every time he gave it a look. If he quit today, he had enough to buy a decent sized plot of land, find a girl, and start a family without the need to work another day. It would all be easily taken care of. There would be no struggle, no wonder of how to put food on the table.

  Find a girl? Start a family? Were these serious thoughts he was having? Could he love someone? If he felt nothing after ending another person’s life, would he be capable of something as simple as love? If a woman knew the amount of blood that was on his hands, could she even fathom loving him?

  He didn’t know, but this was one thing the road was good for. Deep thoughts. He rubbed a hand over the scruff that had grown on his face as he considered his line of thought. The thoughts sobered him and twisted up his gut. He reflected on the girl he had left back in the motel, the prostitute.

  He spent his free time with women he paid to get him off. How was he supposed to relate to a woman? Would he garner a worthwhile woman? How would he even know how to love her and get her to love him?