by Tracy Wolff
“That man is the best person I know. I love you, Nic Medina, and that isn’t going to change no matter how many times you screw up. Not today, not tomorrow, never.”
He closes his eyes then, and I realize with something akin to wonder, that he’s crying. Big, tough, badass Nic Medina is crying like a baby in my arms. And it couldn’t be more wonderful.
“I love you, Jordan. I’ve loved you since you busted my balls in that garage and nothing that’s happened since has changed that. Nothing ever will. And if you’re blind enough to love me back, then I’m going to be smart enough to grab on and never let go.”
And then he kisses me and in that kiss is everything I’ve been missing for three long years. In that kiss is the future, our future, and for the first time in a long, long time, I’m racing straight toward it.
Epilogue
“What’s all this?” Nic asks, as he walks into his office at Hotwired.
I shoot him a look over my shoulder. “What does it look like?”
“It looks,” he says as he wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me to him, my back against his chest, “like my girlfriend is trying to romance me.”
“Well then, that’s probably what it is.” I pop the cork on the bottle of champagne I just took out of the fridge in the break room, then push against his hold as I try to reach the champagne glasses I left on his desk. Nic just tightens his hold, refusing to let me budge.
“And the special occasion is?” he asks, turning me to face him.
His eyebrows are up and that damn dimple of his is out in full force and I can feel myself melt at the sight of it. Giving up on the idea of glasses, I take a swig straight out of the bottle. Dutch courage and all that.
“The special occasion is that I’m going to seduce my boyfriend. And tonight I am not taking no for an answer.”
“As if I would ever say no to you.” His hands slide down my back to gently cup my ass.
“You say no to me all the time! You said no to me yesterday and the day before and the day before—”
“Because you’re still recovering from being shot! Do I really need to remind you that it’s barely been three weeks since you nearly died? The last thing I want to do is get rough with you and cause any more damage—”
“Since when are you ever rough with me?” I demand, taking another sip of champagne before offering him the bottle. “You treat me like glass most of the time.”
He accepts the champagne, taking a long sip of his own before reaching behind me to set it on the desk. “I treat you,” he tells me, “like you’re the most special thing in the world to me. Because you are and there’s no way I’m going to risk hurting you just because I’m horny. I can wait.”
“But you don’t have to wait!”
I reach for his belt, start unbuckling it. And if my hand happens to brush against his very obvious, very impressive erection as I do…well then, who’s going to blame me? My boyfriend is smart and kind and gorgeous and sexy as hell and it’s been three weeks—three weeks—since he’s made love to me properly. Oh, he makes sure I come at least once a day but he never lets me reciprocate because he’s afraid he’ll get too rough. And he won’t fuck me for the same exact reason. And while there’s a part of me that thinks his concern is sweet and more than a little swoon-worthy, there’s a much bigger part of me that wants nothing more than to feel him inside of me. Now.
He puts his hand over mine, stopping my fumbling and increasing my frustration level by about a thousand percent. “The doctor—”
“The doctor gave me the all clear three days ago, as long as we’re careful!”
“Which is exactly my point. I just want to be careful—”
“Damn it, Nic!” I shove my hands into his dreads, grab a couple good handfuls and pull until his face is level with mine. “If you don’t fuck me in the next ten minutes, I’m going to go out to that garage and find someone who will.” And then I kiss him, really kiss him, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he kisses me back.
His mouth is hot on mine as he licks his way along my bottom lip. It feels good, really good, and my lips part on a moan as he sweeps his tongue inside to stroke my own. My knees melt at the contact, and at the feel of his big, hard body pressed against mine.
“Just so you know,” he murmurs into my mouth as he grabs my ass in both hands and lifts me against him. “This is not because I’m giving in to your blackmail. No one in my crew will fuck you when they know you’re my woman—”
“Who says I’m going after your crew? There are a lot of customers who come through here—”
His hands tighten on my ass and his mouth comes down on mine a lot harder this time around. Which is exactly what I was angling for as we both know I could no more let another man touch me than I could fly to the moon under my own power. I’m a one-man kind of woman and Nic is very definitely that man. Very definitely my man, though I still tend to give him shit when he calls me his woman. I much prefer girlfriend or “love of my life.”
A shiver goes through me at the thought and I wrap my legs around his waist to anchor myself as I start tugging his black T-shirt out of the waistband of his jeans. As I do, my fingers skim across miles of hot, caramel-colored skin and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to melt into a pile of goo right here in the middle of Nic’s office. But I’m smart enough to know if I do, Nic will assume it’s because I’ve exhausted myself and he’ll freak out. He’ll sweep me off to the break room couch to rest while he calls the doctor and then I’ll never get laid.
So, no melting into goo then, no matter how sexy my boyfriend is. Or how bad I want him.
I lean forward a little and kiss the sensitive spot behind his ear as I whisper all the things I want to do to him. Nic groans in response, then carries me the few steps to his desk and plops me on the top of it. One of the champagne glasses falls to the floor with a loud crash but neither of us pay much mind to it as Nic lifts my skirt and hooks his fingers on the waistband of my panties. I’m just grateful he’d interrupted me before I’d gotten the dishes set up.
“Are you sure?” he asks me as he starts to slide my panties down my legs. “And the doctor’s really okay with it? And you feel well enough for this?”
“The doctor is totally okay with this,” I tell him as I finally manage to get his shirt over his head and get all those miles of killer abs of his on display. “And I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Except maybe that I love you…”
“I love you too. So much, sweetheart. So, so much.” And then he’s slipping my panties down my legs, his fingers lingering just a little at the juncture where my thighs meet my torso. Not that I can blame him exactly. My fingers haven’t left his V-cut since I whipped that T-shirt off.
As he fumbles with his zipper, I lean back on my elbows and spread my legs. Nic is pretty much the king of foreplay but it’s been three weeks and judging from the way his hands are shaking he’s just as anxious for this as I am. Maybe more. Either way, I’m pretty sure I won’t have to wait long before he’s inside me. Thank God.
After he finally manages to get his jeans open, Nic dips a finger inside of me to test my readiness. Then groans when he feels how wet—how ready for him—I am. “Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good.”
And then he’s dropping to his knees in front of me, thrusting his tongue deep inside of me. Which feels amazing—of course it does—but that’s so not what I want right now. If it was, I could have had it without any fuss. Nic would spend half the night going down on me if I let him.
“I want you inside me,” I tell him, tugging at his hair insistently until he finally lifts his head from between my thighs. “I want to come on your cock.”
His eyes go electric at that and I’m glad I worked up the nerve to say it. Nic loves when I talk dirty to him and it’s no less than the truth anyway. I do want to come with him inside me.
He gives my clit one last lick before climbing to his feet. Then he’s reaching into hi
s desk drawer and pulling out a condom.
“Are you sure?” he asks after he’s rolled the condom on. “I don’t want to hurt you—”
“I’m sure,” I tell him, stroking first one hand down his cock and then the other. “I’msureI’msureI’msure.”
He laughs a little at my vehemence, but it does the trick. Because I don’t have to wait any longer for him to take my lips with his own and then slide slowly, inexorably, inside me.
“Fuuuuuck,” he groans as he bottoms out.
“My sentiments exactly,” I tell him, pressing kisses all over his sculpted chest.
“You feel so good,” he mutters as he starts to move and I swear it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt in my life. He’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.
There’s a part of me that wants this to last forever, but it’s been so long and he feels so good. It only takes a minute or two until I’m teetering on the brink of climax and a look at Nic’s clenched jaw tells me he’s right there with me.
Tangling my hand in his hair, I pull his mouth down to mine. “I’m so close,” I murmur against his lips.
He grins at me, his dimple flashing, then slips a hand between us and strokes my clit once, twice. And then I’m coming, my arms and legs and pussy clenching around him convulsively, holding him to me as tightly as I can as pleasure sweeps through me.
“God, you’re sexy,” Nic mutters against my throat. “You’re so beautiful and you feel so good and— Fuck.”
He curses as I tighten around him and then he’s coming, too, emptying himself into me as I hold him close and whisper to him about how much I love him
It takes us longer to recover than it did for us to come, but as long as Nic’s in my arms, I’m totally okay with that. At least until there’s a loud clatter in the garage followed by a series of angry shouts.
“The fuck?” Nic says, jerking out of my arms. It only takes a second for him to fix his pants and then he’s out the door. I pull my dress down and then I’m right behind him, all but running to keep up with his long strides as he races toward the garage.
“Stay in here,” he orders me right before he slams open the door to the work bays. I just roll my eyes as I follow him. Sometimes he takes his whole protecting me thing way too far. If there’s something going on in the garage, I want to be a part of it. Hotwired is my home now, too, and Nic’s crew is my family. The last three weeks have proven that.
Nic stops dead three feet into the garage and I almost crash into his back. Moving around him, I too come to a stop as soon as I see what he’s looking at. Payton—ice-cold, never ruffled, always-in-control Payton—is brandishing a huge wrench as she tries to get at Chris Jacobs, who is currently laid out on the floor.
Or at least I think it’s Jacobs. He looks very different than when I saw him last. His hair is darker, his eyes are blue instead of brown, and he’s dressed in jeans and a tight T-shirt that do way more to show off his body than the cheap suit he was wearing when I met him ever did. Add in the dark stubble on his jaw, the black loop earrings in his ears and the really impressive muscles peeking out of the arms of his shirt and suddenly boring, forgettable Detective Chris Jacobs looks hot. Really, really hot.
From the looks of it, Payton’s noticed. Also, from the looks of it, the only thing keeping her from bashing in the brains of the newly hot Jacobs is Gabe, who seems to be using a considerable amount of his strength to hold her back.
“What the fuck, Payton?” Jacobs demands as he uses the back of his hand to wipe blood off his mouth. “You could give a guy a chance to explain before you sucker punch him, you know.”
“You can keep your explanations!” she shouts at him. “And your bullshit badge. I might not have recognized you three weeks ago in your ugly little cop outfit, but I sure as shit recognize you now. And you need to get the hell out of this garage before I kill you, cop or not.”
Nic steps forward at that, putting himself between Payton and Jacobs just in case Gabe decides to turn her loose—or, more accurately, until she sucker punches him too and gets loose all on her own.
Nic looks coolly between Payton and Jacobs, eyebrow raised and mouth grim. I can tell that with one glance he’s telling Payton to back down, but she’s so furious I’m not sure she’s going to heed his warning. Which means if we’re not careful, we’re going to be bailing her ass out of jail very, very soon.
Apparently, Nic isn’t sure of her either because he doesn’t budge. Instead, he keeps himself right between the two of them as he demands, “You want to tell me what you’re doing here, Jacobs? And why the fuck one of my best mechanics wants to rip your face off?”
Jacobs climbs to his feet, still bleeding but looking tough as hell as he faces down Nic. “I have no idea what her problem is,” he says nodding toward Payton, “But I’m here because I need a favor.”
“A favor?” Nic raises a brow. “From me?”
“Yeah. I figured I did something for you, now it’s time you do something for me.”
“What the fuck is it with you cops and your quid pro quo?” Nic demands. “Doesn’t anyone believe in doing something nice for someone else, just for the hell of it? And—just to clarify—you might have swooped in and saved the day, but you did it after Jordan was shot. And after you’d fucking tormented her with those photos. So, in my opinion, we’re pretty much even.” He glances over at me, smiles when he sees me watching him. “Which means, this time, you can go on your merry way and we’ll forget this whole thing ever happened.”
“As much as I’d like to get the hell out of here—and away from that fucking basket case over there—” He nods at Payton. “I don’t have that luxury. And neither do you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Nic asks.
“It means the shit’s about to hit the fan, man, and if you and Hotwired have any chance of surviving, you’re going to have to do exactly as I say.”
BY TRACY WOLFF
Ethan Frost Novels
Ruined
Addicted
Exposed
Flawed
Hotwired
Accelerate
Burnout
Other books
Full Exposure
Tie Me Down
LOVEGAME (coming soon)
Extreme Risk Series
Shredded
Shattered
Slashed
Axed
PHOTO: © KEVIN GOURLEY
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author TRACY WOLFF lives in Texas and teaches writing at her local community college. She is married and the mother of three young sons.
tracywolffbooks.com
Facebook.com/TracyWolffAuthor
@TracyWolff
The Editor’s Corner
Thirty days hath September, April, June, and November…wait, it is November, and Loveswept is releasing some of our best books of the year! Check out these fabulous romances:
New York Times bestselling author Marquita Valentine releases her second new novel in her Boys of the South spin-off series Take the Fall series with When We Fall, in which a small-town sweetheart takes a chance on the bad boy who’s always been her hottest fantasy. Another Loveswept New York Times bestselling author, Tracy Wolff introduces her new Hotwired series with Accelerate, where an unassuming passenger is taken for the ride of her life. New York Times bestselling author A. Meredith Walters releases a powerful romance akin to The Fault in Our Stars with Butterfly Dreams. Then, welcome to Thistle Bend! A charming series debut from Tracy March, Should’ve Said No introduces a small town where old secrets are revealed—and wounded hearts are opened to new love. And in a short novel, Rebecca Rogers Maher’s Rolling in the Deep, two kindred spirits share a winning lottery ticket—and discover what it really means to get lucky.
Sports fans were introduced last month to the Aces Hockey series by Kelly Jamieson with Major Misconduct, and this month Kelly releases a holiday romance, Off Limits. Book two in the Recovered Innocence series by Beth Yarnall features
a San Diego investigative team with a soft spot for lost causes and a passion for redemption in Vindicate. And Taking It Off, by USA Today bestselling author Claire Kent introduces you to Matt Stokes, the sexy-as-sin male stripper and club owner who knows what it really means to bare everything. Jessica Lemmon’s irresistible Lost Boys series kicks off with Fighting for Devlin the story of a good girl who plays by the rules—and the bad boy who brings out her wild side. And in Cecy Robson’s O’Brien Family series debut, two total opposites find that the flames of desire are still smoldering in Once Kissed.
For historical romance fans, Sharon Cullen’s The Reluctant Duchess ignites as a shy country girl and a hotheaded duke surrender to dangerous temptations. Then it’s on to Scotland for USA Today bestselling author Jennifer Haymore’s Highland Knights and the first book in this new series, Highland Heat, an electrifying tale of class warfare, fierce loyalties, and forbidden love.
I don’t want this month to end! But the good news is December is upon us with more fabulous Loveswept titles. Until then…
Happy Romance!
Gina Wachtel
Associate Publisher
Read on for an excerpt from
LOVEGAME
by Tracy Wolff
Coming from Loveswept
Prologue
Bedroom eyes.
Fabulous ass.
Mysterious smile.
Great rack.
Epically fabulous ass.
Legs that go on for miles.
Bee-stung lips.
Golden skin.
Fuck me hair.
Fuck me tits.
Just fuck me, baby. Just fuck me.
