He needed to say something, to leave her with something. But what could he say to the beautiful woman looking down at him as if her orgasm had sent her tumbling into a pit of sadness?
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“Don’t be. Josie, I’m the one who should apologize. I’m the one . . .”
Who wants to love you, but can’t.
“Noah?” A fist pounded on the side door. “Noah, are you in there?” His best friend’s voice called through the door.
Shit, I hope I locked it.
“Hold on. I’m here,” he called before Dominic tested the handle.
Josie’s eyes widened, but she didn’t move.
“Sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’m sorry.” And yeah, it was becoming clear it was one of many apologies he owed her. He’d wanted to be the one who made sure no one ever hurt her again. Her hero. Not the man who broke her heart. But playing the hero had slipped out of reach this time, beyond his control.
“I need to go,” he said. “I think I locked the door, but—”
“That won’t keep Dom out.” She raised her hips, letting his semi-hard dick slip out as she moved to the mat.
“Yeah.” He got to his feet and started pulling on his clothes. But she didn’t move. “Josie?” he asked, slipping his feet into his shoes.
“I just need a minute,” she said softly, wrapping her arms around her naked legs.
“What are you doing in there?” Dominic called. “Riding that bull alone?”
“What makes you think he’s alone?” Ryan said dryly.
Ah hell.
Noah stepped off the mat. “I’m sorry, Josie,” he murmured, hoping Dominic wouldn’t overhear.
She just stared back at him. “Goodbye, Noah.”
He heard the knob rattle. He’d locked it. But still, Dominic wasn’t stupid. If he’d realized Josie was missing from the party too . . .
“Don’t break the damn thing,” Noah called as he opened it. He stepped out into the night, forcing his friends to move back. He quickly pulled the door closed behind him.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“The party’s dying down,” Ryan said. His friend wasn’t smiling and hell, he looked as if he’d gotten into it with someone. His button-down flannel was untucked from his jeans, and he was off by a button.
And yeah, Noah was too busy wondering what had happened to Ryan to see it coming.
At the last second, he saw a flash of skin near his face. A fist. And then pain shot through his jaw. He reeled back, lost his footing, and landed on his ass in the dirt outside the barn door.
“Zip up your damn fly,” Dominic growled, lowering his fist.
Shit. He deserved that hit. Maybe another one for the way he’d left Josie naked and in fucking love with him beside the damn bull.
Noah slowly got to his feet, stepped back out of Dominic’s reach, and zipped up his fly.
“I’m not stupid,” Dominic said as he turned and headed back to the fire. “Josie’s been missing from the party for a while.”
“I know. But you should know . . . I care about her,” he said, following him, Ryan falling in at his side.
But I can’t love her. . .
Dominic kept walking toward the bonfire, Lily, and the circle of friends determined to send them off on a high note.
“Doesn’t change the fact that you’re leaving,” Dominic said flatly.
“No.” Noah glanced back at the barn. He should go back in there. He should turn off the damn bull and help her find her dress. And then what? Tell her he was sorry again? He was leaving tomorrow and he might never come back. He couldn’t offer promises because he damn sure couldn’t keep them. “You’re right, it doesn’t change a thing.”
Except Josie.
Yeah, he had a feeling the hurt he’d left behind had cut deep. And he didn’t have a clue how to make that right.
That was on him. But he hoped like hell the pain would fade. She’d find someone else, a man who wasn’t heading for a war zone.
Noah closed his eyes. If the next guy hurts her. . .
“One more drink,” Dominic said. “And then that’s it. The party is over. Time to head home and prepare to leave in the morning.”
JOSIE WATCHED THE bull spin in slow circles. Her discarded dress waved through the air like a bright white flag. She hadn’t planned for her clothes to end up riding the machine without her. She’d walked into the barn hoping for a kiss, maybe a little more.
But she hadn’t planned on this. She’d never in a million years wish for this ending.
“He left,” she whispered as she sat up. But even if her words had been audible over the constant mechanical hum, there was no one here. He’d walked away.
And yes, her brother had knocked. It was either be caught naked together or find a way to keep Dominic out. She understood that. But when he’d rushed to gather his clothes, mumbling apologies, she’d felt the wound open up. He’d taken a piece of her with him. And she had a horrible feeling it was her heart.
“That’s going to leave a scar,” she told the bull as she pushed off the mat and headed for the controls. She hit the red stop button and then climbed onto the red section to reclaim her clothes.
I’m strong enough to put it behind me. Bury the pain and move forward. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again.
But that wouldn’t erase the scar.
About the Author
After several years on the other side of the publishing industry, SARA JANE STONE bid goodbye to her sales career to pursue her dream—writing romance novels. Sara Jane currently resides in Brooklyn, New York, with her very supportive real-life hero, two lively young children and a lazy Burmese cat. Visit her online at www.sarajanestone.com or find her on Facebook at Sara Jane Stone.
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Also by Sara Jane Stone
Second Shot
Running Wild (novella)
Independence Falls
Wild With You
Hero By Night
Caught in the Act
Full Exposure
Search and Seduce
Command Control
Command Performance
Give in to your Impulses . . .
Continue reading for excerpts from
our newest Avon Impulse books.
Available now wherever e-books are sold.
HARD EVER AFTER
A HARD INK NOVELLA
By Laura Kaye
WILD AT HEART
By T.J. Kline
THE BRIDE WORE STARLIGHT
A SEVEN BRIDES FOR SEVEN COWBOYS NOVEL
By Lizbeth Selvig
An Excerpt from
HARD EVER AFTER
A Hard Ink Novella
By Laura Kaye
After a long battle to discover the truth, the men and women of Hard Ink have a lot to celebrate, especially the wedding of two of their own—Nick Rixey and Becca Merritt—whose hard-fought love deserves a happy ending. As Nick and the team shift from crisis mode to building their new security consulting firm, Becca heads back to work at the ER. But amid the everyday chaos of their demanding jobs and upcoming nuptials, an old menace they thought was long gone reemerges, threatening the peace they’ve only just found.
Wearing only her bra and jeans, Becca sat in a chair in the middle of Nick’s tattoo room. Since the shop was closed while Jeremy focused on getting the construction on the other half of the building started, they were the only ones down there. The driving beat of a rock song played from the radio as Nick moved around the room getting everything ready.
Becca had seen Nick work before and loved the dichotomy of this hard-edged, lethal soldier having a soft, artistic side. He was really freaking talented, too.
He handed her three sheets of paper. “I worked up a couple different fonts. What do you think?”
She shifted between the pages. “This one,” she said, settling on the cursive design that best interweaved the letters in the words Only, Always, Forever.
“That was my favorite, too,” he said, giving her a wink. “How is this for size? Bigger? Smaller?”
The total design as he had it on the sheet was about four inches square, the words stacked atop one another. “This looks good to me. What do you think?”
Nick nodded and came behind her. He folded the sheet to focus on the design, then held it against the back of her right shoulder. “Yeah. This is a good size for the space. Gonna be fucking beautiful.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her skin. “Let me go make the stencil, and we’re ready to go.”
A few minutes later, he cleaned her skin, affixed the stencil, and let her look at its placement before getting her settled into the chair again.
He pulled her bra strap off to the side. “Ready?”
“Very,” she said, butterflies doing a small loop in her belly.
The tattoo machine came to life on a low buzz. “Just relax and let me know if you need a break, okay?” he said, dipping the tip into a little plastic cup of black ink.
“Okay.” His gloved hands fell against her skin, and then the needles. Almost a scratching feeling, it didn’t hurt nearly as bad as she thought it would. And just like when he’d drawn on her with skin markers, she was already dying to see what it looked like.
“How you doing?” he asked in a voice full of concentration she found utterly sexy. Just the thought that he was permanently altering her skin—just like he’d permanently altered her heart, her life, her very soul—sent a hot thrill through her blood.
“I’m good,” she said, relaxing into the sensation of the bite moving across her skin. “Is it weird that I kinda like how it feels?”
He didn’t answer right away as the needle moved in a long line. He pulled the machine away and wiped at her shoulder. “Not weird at all,” he said, his voice a little gravelly. “Some people like the sensation and even find getting tattoos addictive.”
“I can see that,” she said. He worked without talking for a stretch, and the combination of the quiet intensity radiating off of him, the driving rock beat, and the buzz of the machine was heady and intoxicating. She found herself breathing a little faster and wanting so much more of him to be touching so much more of her. If she thought he was sexy putting ink on someone else, it was nothing compared to how she felt when he was doing it to her.
“What are you thinking about so hard?” Nick asked, his breath caressing her bare shoulder.
“Really want to know?” she asked, already smiling at what his reaction might be.
“Always,” he said, wiping at her skin. He dipped the machine in the ink and leaned in again.
“How turned on this is making me.” She really wanted to turn to see his expression but knew she wasn’t supposed to move.
He pulled the machine away again. “Jesus, Becca. You’re killing me here.”
She grinned. “I asked if you really wanted to know.”
Click to buy Hard Ever After now!
An Excerpt from
WILD AT HEART
By T.J. Kline
Bailey Hart has never felt at home in her small town. So when her band gets their big break in Los Angeles, “Wild Hart” can’t run fast enough . . . If only there weren’t so many reasons to stay. After a harrowing stint in the Oakland Police Department, Chase McKee has returned home a hero, and yet he feels anything but. And when he finds out Bailey might be leaving for good, the feelings he’s always harbored for his best friend’s cousin just won’t stay hidden.
Chase picked up on the roar of the engine long before the motorcycle actually came into view. Reaching for the radar gun, he aimed it in the direction of the sound.
Ninety-two miles per hour. Did this guy have a death wish?
He’d no more tapped the gas on the cruiser when the motorcycle blazed past him in a midnight-blue streak. He flipped on his lights and siren and the bike immediately slowed as the rider glanced backward before pulling onto the shoulder.
At least he has some respect for the law, he thought acerbically as he stopped behind the motorcycle and ran the plates.
The registered owner’s name came up on his computer screen and his eyes shot back to the rider.
“Damn it,” he muttered, rolling his shoulders back and preparing for the battle he had no doubt was coming. Chase rolled his eyes and climbed out of the vehicle with a sigh of resignation. Crossing his arms, he greeted the most beautiful woman—and the biggest troublemaker—he’d ever met as she slid her helmet off her head and brushed stray hairs back into her low honey-colored ponytail.
“Funny seeing you here, Bailey. When did you get this thing, and are you trying to kill yourself with it?”
She turned her dazzling pearly whites on him, her blue eyes flashing with mischief as she set the helmet on the seat behind her. Chase had been dying to ask her out ever since his return to town almost two years ago but she had no idea and, unfortunately, he needed to keep it that way. Her cousin Justin was one of his best friends, and if he knew Chase thought of Bailey as anything other than Justin’s “little sister,” Chase would probably have to arrest his friend for assaulting a police officer. Not to mention that he’d need to check himself into the hospital.
“Just picked it up last week.” Her fingers ran lovingly over the blue gas tank between her thighs, and he felt his body immediately react. He stifled the response. “I guess I’m still getting used to how much power it has.”
“Ya think?” He couldn’t help but chuckle at her understatement as he clicked the top of his pen and started writing out a speeding ticket. “I need your license and registration.”
“Aw, come on, Chase. Really?” She bit her lower lip, looking up at him from under her thick, dark lashes, and he felt the heat of desire trickle down his chest and center low in his belly. “I’ll slow down. I swear.”
“And you’ll never do it again, right?” He didn’t believe her for a second. Everyone knew Bailey’s reputation as the wild child of the Hart family. She didn’t just march to the beat of her own drum, she conducted the entire orchestra to a tune of her design.
“You know, you should come by for dinner tonight. I’m fixing enchiladas for them. We’re hoping the spicy food will put Jules into labor. There’ll be plenty if you want to stop by.”
A flirtatious smile spread over her full lips and her eyes sparkled like sapphires. Chase felt the sizzle of heat come to life again. If he didn’t know her better, he’d think she was flirting. That was the last thing he needed right now. He turned the pad toward her and handed her the pen, indicating she should sign the line. She stared up at him expectantly, practically batting her eyelashes.
Chase cocked his head to the side and gave her a lopsided grin. “Plying me with dinner isn’t going to get you out of a ticket, Bailey.”
Her eyes narrowed as he tapped the pad again. Bailey jerked it from his hand and scribbled her name, slapping the pen against it irritably when she finished. He ripped her copy of the citation from the pad and handed it back to her with the other documents. “You do realize trying to bribe an officer is a felony, right?”
She cocked a brow at him as she slid her helmet back over her head and slipped her sunglasses on, starting the engine. “Who said anything about bribing you? Maybe I was trying to poison you.”
Chase cou
ldn’t help but laugh as she eased the bike back onto the road. “Murder One is a felony, too,” he yelled after her.
Damn, that woman could turn him on faster than she did that bike.
Click to buy Wild at Heart now!
An Excerpt from
THE BRIDE WORE STARLIGHT
A Seven Brides for Seven Cowboys Novel
By Lizbeth Selvig
Once comfortable on stage in front of thousands, Joely Crockett is now mortified at the thought of walking—or rolling—down the aisle at her sisters’ wedding. Scarred and wheelchair-bound, the former beauty queen has lost more than the ability to walk—she’s lost her fire. But when one handsome, arrogant guest accuses her of milking her injuries and ignites her ire, Joely finally starts to feel truly alive again, and soon it’s impossible for her to resist her heart’s desire.
“You look lost.”
She started at an unexpected, masculine voice and swung her gaze to the dining room doorway. Her mouth went dry as a summer drought, and her pulse hiccupped before it began to race. The man who stood there with a hot smile and a confident demeanor owned a pair of the sharpest hazel eyes she’d ever seen, sandy-gold hair the color of a palomino stallion, and a jaw and cheekbones strong enough to have been chiseled out of Wyoming granite. Most unsettling of all was a smile that likely could have charmed Sunday school teachers out of their knickers—in any era past or present.
After she’d stared for an impolite number of seconds, Joely lowered her eyes and cupped her chin so her thumb rode up the left side of her in order to hide the scar. She’d convinced herself it made her look thoughtful and masked the self-consciousness she’d never suffered before the accident.
“I might be lost,” she said. “But I’m probably not.”
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