“Huh?” Uncertain what he had in mind, she raised her hand, fingers parted so she could still see him. As Prince demanded her extra time and her kiss, Trevor tore open his shirt, sending buttons flying, baring his truly amazing chest and chiseled abs.
Holy smokes. This act of his was going to melt her panties right along with her heart. True, she knew his spectacular body almost as well as she knew the back of her own hand, had seen, touched, and had her way with him hundreds of times, but familiarity didn’t diminish the impact of watching him strip for her.
He turned around, tugged his shirt the rest of the way off, and flexed his delts and lats until her mouth went dry. With his hands behind his head, he turned to face her again, arched his back, and offered up his fly. “Care to do the honors?”
“Are you kidding?” Eagerly, she undid the clasp of his trousers, but when she went for the zipper, he pulled his hips back. “Uh-uh. Not so fast.” With a slight twist of his waist, he shifted closer again. “Reach into my pocket. I’ve got a surprise for you.”
She laughed, despite the wave of frustrated desire swirling through her. “The old ‘reach into my pocket’ routine?”
He merely shrugged and prompted her with a little hip shake. She reached in and tunneled her fingers down, enjoying the feel of his granite-hard thigh through the slippery lining. Her fingertips brushed something small and cool at the bottom of his pocket. Curious, her eyes sought his.
“Find something interesting?”
“I don’t know.” She closed her fingers around the tiny object and drew it out of his pocket while Prince wound his song down with a frenzy of kisses and funky guitar. When she opened her hand and saw what she was holding, the air backed up in her lungs. A beautiful diamond solitaire sat in her palm. Her pent-up breath escaped with an audible whoosh into the sudden quiet.
“Surprise,” he whispered.
“Oh…”
He dropped to his knee and took her hand, folding her fingers around the ring. “Marry me, Kylie. I love you. I want to spend my life with you. Hopefully you know by now that I’ll never stand in the way of your dreams.”
She took a shaky breath and looked up at him through tears.
“Ah, Jesus, don’t do it. Please.” Gently, he swept his thumb over her cheek.
“I can’t help it.”
“Because you’re so happy, or you’re completely freaked out? Spell it out for me, Ky.”
Laughing, crying, she flung her arms around his neck.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” And then he was kissing her. A long, deep kiss that set her soul soaring even as her body went up in flames.
“Yes,” she echoed when they finally came up for air.
“I’m holding you to that,” he whispered, and slipped the ring on her finger. “Forever.”
Can’t get enough of Samanthe Beck’s romances? Check out her debut novel
Private Practice
He’ll teach her how to bring a man to his knees…
Dr. Ellie Swan has a plan: open her practice in tiny Bluelick, Kentucky, so she can keep an eye on her diabetic father, and make hometown golden-boy Roger Reynolds fall in love with her. But Ellie has a problem. Roger seeks a skilled, sexually adventurous partner, and bookish Ellie doesn’t qualify.
Tyler Longfoot only cares about three things: shaking his bad boy image, qualifying for the loan his company needs to rehab a piece of Bluelick’s history, and convincing Ellie to keep quiet about the “incident” that lands him on her doorstep at two a.m. with a bullet in his behind.
The adorable Dr. Swan drives a mean bargain, though. If sex-on-a-stick Tyler will teach Ellie how to bring a man to his knees, she’ll forget about the bullet. Armed with The Wild Woman’s Guide to Sex and Tyler’s lessons, Ellie is confident she can become what Roger needs…if she doesn’t fall for Tyler first.
Chapter One
“To be honest, I’m relieved Roger and I called off our engagement.”
The snippet of conversation from the booth behind her pulled Dr. Ellie Swann’s nose out of her medical journal. She blinked and stared at the large window beside her. Its reflection offered a view of the bustling interior of DeShay’s Diner, including the booth where Melody Merritt and Ginny Boca huddled over pie and coffee.
Ellie forced her attention back to her journal and held her breath, waiting for the conversation to resume. No, Melody’s broken engagement was none of her business, and yes, eavesdropping was wrong, wrong, wrong. But she couldn’t resist listening in, because the discussion involved Roger Reynolds, the object of her longstanding and completely secret adoration.
“Roger and I weren’t well suited. I know we looked like the perfect couple—high school sweethearts and all—but between college in Manhattan, and then law school and the clerkship in DC, he changed. He picked up big-city tastes in some, ahem, intimate areas.”