7 Dirty Lies by Alexis Anne is coming soon!
Dirty never felt so good... Release Date: August 17th
ADD TO YOUR TBR→ http://bit.ly/2t0GZEU
It was right out of one of my movies: Tropical island, sexy single man, two hot nights of nameless passion. Except instead of falling into each other's arms, we went our separate ways, never to be seen again. Of course I thought about him all the time. The way he laughed, the way he saw right through me, the way he took no shit as his strong hands roamed my body. If there was one night I could repeat, it would be that one. I never expected to see my mystery man again. Fast forward to my new movie set and the handsome property owner. Yep, same guy. Same sexy, sexy guy. Our chemistry is still off the charts but there’s one tiny problem: he doesn’t trust me. Okay, so I skipped a few important details. I don’t blame the guy. But they were just little white lies. Unfortunately if I want that movie-perfect ending I’m going to have to set the record straight...and hopefully have a little fun in the process.
I couldn’t sleep. No amount of hiking or bedroom gymnastics could make me fall asleep, apparently. My body was exhausted but my mind wouldn’t stop. Not with the way Colt had me wrapped around him, holding me in place like he enjoyed it every bit as much as I did. Maybe I didn’t want to sleep because I knew it was the last time I wouldn’t be alone for a while. Even when I did have “company” it was rare that it was as nice as this. Okay scratch that. I’d never had company this nice before. Colt was funny, warm, and generous. He was great in bed and enjoyable outside of it, too. Plus there was this. Just dozing off in his arms was so relaxing and peaceful. There definitely wouldn’t be relaxing or peaceful after this. Nor would anything be this sexy. So yeah, I was up hours later than I should be, soaking up every moment I could before my vacation became a memory. “You’re awake, aren’t you?” he said just loud enough to be heard over the waves crashing outside the open bungalow windows. “Yes.” “Why?” His fingers began to lazily stroke my arm. It was soothing. He was soothing. “Can’t sleep. Why are you awake?” He paused, his fingers near my shoulders, before he changed direction and moved to my hair. “I don’t really know. I don’t usually have trouble sleeping.” Knowing he was having the same problem filled my chest with warmth. “We should be exhausted.” He made a grunt of agreement. “Are you ready to go home?” “No.” Another grunt. “I need to go back. I can’t believe I left things for this long . . . ” Then he kissed the top of my head. It sent electricity racing over my skin. My heart pounded. “But the last thing I want to do is go back.” He shifted, sliding down beside me so that we were nose to nose on our sides. “I want another day like this.” “Just one?” “Five. Fifty. Why can’t real life be like this?” God he was handsome. Even in the shadows of the night. The moon cast the faintest glow through the white curtains, lighting the side of his face up enough for me to admire. He’d shaved this morning, so there was a decent layer of stubble on his rugged chin now. His nose was long and narrow but not perfect. When I got to his eyes I froze. He was waiting for me. Waiting with a look so desperate for me it overwhelmed every thought in my head. “I forgot what you just asked.” “Why can’t real life be like this?” he whispered, hoarse. Raw. He was raw. His eyes, his words—everything—stripped bare, down to his soul, for me. “Responsibilities.” He swallowed. “Right now I don’t care about any of them.” He brushed his lips over mine. “I’m fucking miserable. Day in and day out I work myself to death for all of them. Why?” I didn’t know the answer to that. “You love them?” His eyes pinched at the corners. With pain? Sadness? “I’m starting to wonder if it’s enough.” He kissed me again. “I’m giving up—” he hesitated, his lips moving but no words coming out until, “—this.” A sharp ache sliced through my chest. Even if we threw everything out the window and tried to see each other again, it wouldn’t be the same. The man and woman who went on a waterfall picnic weren’t who we really were. It was better that we keep that memory pure. Didn’t make it hurt any less. Besides, how would I ever explain that I’d lied about who I was? If I wanted to enjoy these last few hours with Colt, I needed to hold tight to this illusion I’d created for us both. “What if we come back next year? One year from now we’ll be different people. There’s no way I’m going home and picking up where I left off. Maybe you shouldn’t either.” “A year?” His voice held a mix of disappointment and hope. “A year to change.” “You’re a workaholic and my life is kind of a mess right now. I think if we tried to keep this—what we have right now—we’d ruin it. I don’t want that.” “Neither do I.” Good. A year would give me enough time to figure out how to explain my little white lies. And maybe he’d be so happy to see me again he wouldn’t care as much as he would right now. “I’m a sunshine and rainbows, glass-half-full, pot-of-gold, pain in the ass, but I have goals, Colt. Just because I think positive doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to reality.” I took a deep breath, hoping it would give me the courage to finish this. “The last two days have been the best I’ve ever had. Because of you. I hope when I come back next year I’ll see your cowboy hat by the pool. Maybe we’ll be ready by then.” “Is this a brush off? When I come back will I be all alone again, pining for a woman who never really existed?” His tone was teasing, but his eyes were deadly serious. I just wish he wasn’t so damn close to the truth. “I’ll be here, Colt. That’s not even a question. I’m a little bit addicted to you and I want more.” “Good. Because I think it would kill me if I never saw you again.” Oh god. “You’re making me want to stay again . . . ” I rolled on top of him, straddling his hips. “Fuck reality. We’re going to blow every penny we have to stay here until we’re broke.” He laughed, sliding his hands up my hips and pulling me down against him. “This place is expensive. Maybe we can find a cheaper alternative to make it last longer.” Then he pulled me down, his arm along my spine and his hand between my shoulder blades as he held me to him. “I’ll be ready for you next year. Just know I’m not letting you go again. Be prepared for a fight.” It was taking all the fight I had to leave tomorrow. No amount of time would give me enough courage to fight him off a second time. If, after he knew the truth, he still wanted me, I would give us everything I had to see if we could recreate this magic off the island.
About the Author:
Former archaeologist Alexis Anne (who also writes romantic suspense as Alexis Sykes) has worked as an oral historian, GIS specialist, field archaeologist, college professor, and small business owner, before deciding that working from home and writing books was a lot more satisfying. She writes steamy, sexy romance with one half of her brain and romantic suspense, action adventure, and children’s books with the other half. Growing up she traipsed through the islands of the Gulf Coast, camped in the Everglades, dove the Keys, and generally felt more at home spending her days outdoors with a good book. She currently lives in a home filled with wild men (otherwise known as her extremely extroverted husband, The Sexy Editor, and their two kids), a husky, and a superhero guinea pig.