Summer Heat

by Carly Phillips

  “And I love you with all my heart, Lexie Parker.” He leaned in and kissed her glossed lips.

  “Now let’s go get married so you can take my name already.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Possessive much?” she asked, laughing.

  If she only knew. She owned him. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

  * * *

  Thank you for reading GOING DOWN EASY. I hope you enjoyed. Get the next Billionaire Bad Boy’s story (Lucas Monroe and Maxie Sullivan) in GOING DOWN FAST—HERE.

  Billionaire Bad Boys: Rich, Powerful and sexy as hell.

  Lucas Monroe dropped out of college only to become a multi-billionaire and tech world God. He can have any woman he desires in his bed, but the only woman he’s ever wanted is off limits and always has been. When Maxie Sullivan finds herself in dire straights, the only man she can turn to is the one she’s always secretly loved: her childhood best friend.

  Can they trust their hearts and make a future, or will their complicated pasts stand in the way?

  This bad boy is going down fast …

  And going down fast has never felt so right.

  Meet the Dares!

  Dare to Love – Book 1 Dare to Love Series – (Ian Dare)

  Click to Download

  MAKING HER MELT

  Thank you for reading MAKING HER MELT, the sexy new adult novella by Amber Lin! If you love scorching hot contemporary reads, also one-click THE PAWN

  , which is FREE to download.

  Praise for Amber Lin’s Books

  “Amber Lin shows us that romance isn’t just for the rich and shiny. Love can find its way even into the dark corners of the most damaged hearts.”

  —Tiffany Reisz, bestselling author

  “Amber’s work cuts deeper than that of anybody else I can think of—her prose is beautiful, the dark emotions are darker, the sex is sexier.”

  —Ruthie Knox, New York Times Bestselling Author

  “She has a beautiful, atmospheric writing style and you’re not going to find sentimental love here, nor are you going to find hearts and flowers. This is taut, compelling, thoughtful and also gritty, earthy and unembellished.”

  —Sinfully Sexy Book Reviews

  “Oh and as for Amber Lin, well she was already on my shelf as a favourite Author of mine and yet again she proved just why. Her writing style is beautiful, flawless and so evocative you live and breathe her stories.”

  —TotallyBooked Blog

  “Amber Lin has created an incredible story that is a captivating mix of redemption, love, and psychological suspense that I thoroughly enjoyed, and I highly recommend it to more adventurous readers!”

  —The Autumn Review

  “Since the release of Giving It Up, the first book in her Lost Girls series, I have been a die-hard fan of this author and have been singing her praises to everyone who wants to listen. Four full-length novels later and it is evident that Amber Lin’s talent is not restricted to dark romances, she also writes wonderful steamy and sweet contemporaries.”

  —Swept Away by Romance

  Chapter One

  Too early to sleep, but too late to go anywhere. Especially in this weather. Ethan stretched out in bed, the sheets cool and rough. This time was the in-between, the hazy middle ground when his defenses lowered enough to admit what he wanted—or who he wanted.

  “Pathetic,” he muttered.

  Better to admit the truth, if only to himself. Then maybe he’d finally pick himself up, move to his hometown, and somehow manage to forget her.

  Even though years overseas hadn’t made him forget. He was pretty sure leaving town wouldn’t make him forget his best friend’s girlfriend either. But at least he wouldn’t have to watch them, happy together, smiling, laughing, kissing, while his gut clenched in a tight knot of jealousy and shame.

  At least he’d be in the countryside, able to breathe again.

  Able to breathe without the constant erection he had around her. It was getting harder to hide it. He’d jerk off before seeing her, but that only seemed to make it worse. Because every time he stroked himself, every time he came, gasping, her face flashed through his mind. Then he’d see her in real life, and his body would charge up, ready to make fantasy a reality.

  And—oh great—now he was hard again. Alone. In bed.

  There was only one thing to do about that, but he wasn’t going to think about Lia this time. It wasn’t respectful to her, wasn’t respectful to his best friend. Fuck, it wasn’t even respectful to himself. He could jerk without thinking of her, couldn’t he? God, he hoped so.

  Porn, that was the answer.

  He flipped on his phone until he found a site full of beautiful, naked women. Nameless. Faceless. Not Lia’s name. Not her face. Just breasts and hips, just bare skin he could imagine against his. He scrolled down the page—and then stopped. This woman had dark skin—a little darker than Lia’s but it still made him think of her. Lia’s breasts would be smaller, but he could look and imagine. He could touch himself and pretend it was Lia’s hand instead…

  No. Stop thinking about her.

  He forced himself to keep scrolling until he had a different woman, one with pale skin and fine red hair. She looked at the camera with a sultry expression, a wanting expression, unlike Lia in every way, because damn sure he’d never seen her look at him that way. That expression was for Chris. This… this was for Ethan—a glossy picture of a stranger, cold and emotionless, and his own hand, pulling too hard and too fast, making it hurt. It was all he deserved, and he made himself face the reality of it, the coolness of the sheets against his skin—not a warm body. The emptiness of this room, of his apartment.

  The loneliness of it.

  And it worked, somehow. Because he was that hard up, that hungry, and his balls drew up tight. Hot pressure raced down his spine, two seconds from coming, on the razor’s edge, something like pain in his cock, fist tightening. His phone bzzzed in his hand, making him flinch, holding him in that sharp moment, almost coming but not yet, and then the image on his screen flipped from the nameless woman to a woman he knew very well.

  Lia. He groaned, helpless and pained.

  Her eyes were sparkling, because he’d made some stupid joke, and her smile had been so bright he ached with it, and he’d snapped the picture right in that moment and set it on his phone so that whenever she called—

  Oh God, she was calling. And he was coming, unable to wait a second a longer, especially when he was looking at the woman he really wanted, the only woman he wanted. His cock pulsed and spurted and spilled hot come down his hand like lava. The air sucked out of the room like it did every time she smiled or talked to him or motherfucking called him while he was masturbating, and he was panting, eyes closed, trying to calm down already. And most of all, trying to pretend like she hadn’t just made him climax when he pressed the Answer button.

  “Hey.” His voice came out rough and breathless. He felt like a tool for answering the phone with one hand while his other was still coated in come, but he wasn’t going to miss her call. Wasn’t giving up the chance to hear her voice even if they’d just hung out yesterday.

  “Are you okay? You sound funny.”

  And she sounded like goddamn air, like relief and life and sex even though he shouldn’t want her anymore. Shouldn’t want her at all. “I’m fine. What’s up?”

  “Well,” she said, dragging out the word. “There’s this thing tonight, and I wanted to go. Chris has a work event, so I thought maybe…”

  “I’ll go.”

  “You don’t even know what it is.”

  But you’ll be there. He forced himself to laugh, though it came out choppy and false. “You know me. I always have Chris’s back.”

  “Thanks, man,” came Chris’s voice from far away.

  And that was when he realized he was on speaker. Great, just what he wanted while covered in his own come—to talk to his best friend. “Don’t mention it,” he said. Ever.

  “Do you want to
drive or should I?” Lia asked.

  “Text me the details,” he said. “I’ll pick you up.”

  Then he hit the End button, because shit shit shit, he was so completely screwed. How had he thought he’d get over her? He wouldn't. He couldn't. He’d have to move, leave town, and soon—like tomorrow. The idea had been brewing for a while now. Ever since he got back. It would hurt so fucking much not to see her again, but it would hurt worse to stay.

  Chapter Two

  Lia strolled the Trail of Lights, trying not to look at the dire expression on her friend’s face. Trying to pretend she didn’t know something was wrong. But Ethan had been strangely quiet—pensive, almost regretful—since he picked her up.

  The Trail of Lights was Austin’s answer to holiday cheer, a mix of retro Christmas displays and corporate sponsorship. Fat kernels of kettle corn marked the wooded path more clearly than wood-cut signs. Families had walked the Trail of Lights since its opening in late afternoon.

  Nearing midnight, the crowd had thinned to mostly couples. They linked their arms and canted their heads toward each other, sharing the heat of their bodies and the steam of their breaths.

  Not like Lia and Ethan. The inches between them felt like a mile.

  She examined a Grinch whose lit up smile looked properly demonic. And somewhat lonely. “I always felt bad for him.”

  “Of course you did,” Ethan said.

  “What? I mean, the Whos down in Whoville had warm beds and Christmas presents. The Grinch had to live in a cave all by himself.”

  “He had his dog.” Ethan tweaked his own dog’s ears. Oreo pranced around their feet, made frisky by the crisp air and the kernels of kettle corn he’d swiped from the ground.

  “He did have the dog,” she conceded, studying Ethan. “Like you.”

  Come to think of it, Ethan was a little Grinch-like. Not the looks. His skin had a steady tan from all the running he did, no green in sight. Although he did rock an evil grin when he teased her.

  “We have that in common,” he said. “The dog. And the cave. And being a surly bastard.”

  “You’re not a bastard.” He could be surly, though. Like tonight. “Anyway, the Whos acted all nice and inclusive, but look at their population. Everyone was the same. The Grinch was the outcast who just so happened to look different. Coincidence? I don’t think so.”

  Ethan grinned at her. “I take it you’re not going to read How the Grinch Stole Christmas in your classroom.”

  “Maybe I would,” she muttered, adding, “if I ever have a classroom.”

  Of course he noticed. His brow creased in concern. “Hey, you’ve only got a few weeks.”

  A few weeks and a shiny new diploma might not be enough. “I talked to the director yesterday.”

  “And?”

  And it didn’t look good. Lia had worked in the private school to pay her way through college. It had been more than a part time job to her. She’d made costumes for the school play on her own time. She had worked front and center at every fundraising carnival. Now she was graduating with a degree in early childhood education, but the director claimed there were no positions available.

  Except there were.

  “She says they need someone with more experience to fill that first grade spot.”

  Ethan frowned. “That’s bullshit. You have years of experience with kids, and at that school. Who the hell else are they going to find?”

  Ethan’s defense did bolster her, but it didn’t change facts. They were hiring right now for next school year, and once they gave that spot away, it would be a full year before she could be considered for a teaching position again. “She offered to increase my hours to full time, but I’d still be an aide. Not a teacher.”

  “You can apply around though, right? To other schools in Austin?”

  She shrugged, not quite over the sting of yesterday’s rejection. She had busted her ass for that school. She’d made friends… at least she’d thought she had.

  If they didn’t want her as a teacher, who would?

  Ethan put a finger to her chin and lifted. His fingers felt cool against her skin, but warmth filled her cheeks. Her gaze met his. He looked determined. Pissed. And something else she was afraid to identify. “They’re crazy if they think they’ll find someone better for those kids than you. You work harder than anyone, but more than that, you care about them. Really care.” He glanced over at the display. “Like the way you interpreted the Grinch.”

  “Because I subverted a beloved classic?”

  “Because you take the books seriously, even though they’re for kids. You take the plays and the art projects and everything seriously. Everyone gives it lip service. But you, Rosalia Monroe, you actually give a fuck.”

  Somewhere during his speech he’d leaned in—canted forward, sharing heat and swapping breaths—and her heart began to pound. She searched his dark eyes, but the thousands of lights shielded his thoughts. All she could see was the familiar angles of his face, the dusting of golden scruff on his jaw, the shadows under his eyes.

  “Can I put that on my resume?” she whispered.

  He nodded solemnly. “Rosalia Monroe, Instructional Badass.”

  A slow smile claimed her. “You’re good for my ego, you know that?”

  He backed away with a half-smile. “Telling it like it is.”

  Oreo whined and stomped his feet, and just like that, the spell was broken. Lia looked around, surprised to realize the trail had thinned out to almost nothing. Just how long had they been ogling Grinch? And just how close had they gotten? There were only inches between them.

  She stepped back. “I was hoping for some hot chocolate before we leave.”

  “Let’s head for the tree,” he said, his voice gruff.

  The trail ended at a tall tent of lights—the proverbial Christmas tree. It was formed from massive strings of lights, spiraling high into the air, far above them. Little kids would stand underneath, spinning and spinning until they felt dizzy and sick. And underneath the light-formed tree, concession booths stood in for presents, serving warm drinks and buttered corn on the cob.

  But they were too late. Most of the stands stood empty now, hollow boxes that had already been unwrapped. Some stands were already vacant, with only littered napkins to show they’d ever been full. Others were in the process of being put away, tired concession workers loading their supplies.

  Ethan hailed a man behind the kettle corn stand who was pushing the giant metal popper onto a cart. “Hey, wait up. You have any hot chocolate left?”

  “Only water bottles,” the vendor shouted back, his face red from exertion.

  “Damn,” Ethan muttered. Then, “We’ll take two.” He didn’t stop there—he handed off Oreo’s leash to her and rounded the wooden counter. With a nod, he bent down and pushed the barrel onto its cart.

  The vendor wiped his brow. “Thanks. I usually have a helper for that.”

  Ethan shrugged, because praise always made him antsy. He could dish it but he couldn’t take it.

  “Just for that, I’ll give you these water bottles free of charge,” the man said. “And this last bag of popcorn. I was saving it for the ride home, but you two should have it.”

  “We can’t take your popcorn,” Lia protested.

  The man patted his belly. “I can do without. Besides, a young couple like yourselves should share a bag. It’s part of the experience.”

  “No, we aren’t a—”

  “We’ll take them,” Ethan cut in, giving her a look.

  Okay, so he was a kettle corn fan. Got it.

  He pushed some money on the man despite his objections before handing her a bottle and the bag. “What?” he asked to her pointed look.

  We aren’t a couple. So why did you let him think we were? But she couldn’t ask that. It would only show it bothered her, when there was no reason for it to. It didn’t matter if the guy selling kettle corn thought they were a couple.

  So a man and a woman were walking togeth
er.

  At midnight.

  It didn’t mean they were a couple. They were friends. Big difference.

  But she didn’t have to answer; Ethan already knew. His face was dark and impassive, the colorful lights above them only deepening its shadows. “How’s Chris doing?” he asked.

  * * *

  Ethan grit his teeth as Lia launched into her third story about how great Chris was. And yes, Chris was smart and funny and obviously kicking ass at the internship with a state senator. But did she have to sound so breathless when she talked about him?

  He’d brought this on himself.

  Yes, of course he’d go with her, anywhere, anytime, like he was some kind of stand-in boyfriend. Just walk and talk and laugh with her, but don’t go home with her. No, she was going home to Chris.

  Chris, who had emailed him after the phone call. Thx for covering.

  As if they were still back in Afghanistan, covering each other’s asses. But Lia wasn’t a shift they could trade or a ration he could lend. She wasn’t a barrage of gunfire he could deflect. She was Chris’s girlfriend, and Ethan needed to fucking remember that.

  No matter how hot she looked with a handful of kettle corn.

  “God,” she moaned. “This is so freaking good. Why did you never tell me this was so freaking good?”

  Maybe because you’re making sex noises, and if you keep that up, my dick’s going to be hard. He wasn’t sure which bothered him more, stories about Chris’s general awesomeness or Lia’s kettle corn orgasms every time she took a bite.

  Her lips would be sticky by now, coated in caramelized sugar and salt. He’d give anything just for one lick, but she wasn’t his to taste. She wasn’t his at all. The only thing he could do was grip the steering wheel and glare at the dark Austin roads as he drove.

  Wind whipped inside the truck cab, coming in through the tilted rear windows where Oreo had his nose pressed to the night air, ears flopping wildly.

  “Chris thinks the senator’s going to run,” Lia said.