A New Adult Contemporary Romance Series
By Maggie Marr
Releasing January 14, 2014
Publisher: NLA DLP
My eyes fluttered open. I kicked my foot out from under the comforter on my bed. I’d had trouble falling asleep when I got back to the house. I flipped over my cell phone and glanced at the time—it was 2:07 a.m. and I was wide-awake.
Kong lay curled up on the pillow beside me while Scorsese and Spielberg slept at the foot of my bed. Bernie lay lengthwise beside me like a human. I ran my hand across Bernie’s thick fur. My heart hurt. Last week I’d felt bad for Dillon. I’d felt bad that he was trapped in a horrible place between his parents and his brother. Parents who, from what it sounded like, wouldn’t accept Choo for who he was, but yet still wanted to be a part of Dillon’s life.
Tonight I didn’t feel bad for Dillon. I felt angry and hurt and shocked at how intense all my feelings were. There were two Dillons and I kept ping-ponging between them. There was the guy who’d humiliated me when I was lost and then made me feel embarrassed again tonight. Frustration spiked through my chest as the feeling of embarrassment flooded through me with the two memories.
Then there was the other Dillon. The guy who’d rescued four dogs. The guy who smiled and gave me the keys to his car. The guy who was sexy as hell and seemed interested in what I had to say. That was the Dillon my heart hurt for. That was the Dillon I wanted to know and be around. That Dillon seemed to pop out, be wildly nice, and then immediately disappear. Maybe I was lucky that the sweet version of Dillon wasn’t around more. The jerky version I could work for and ignore.
He wasn’t someone who wanted a relationship. Already, I’d seen him with a multitude of different women. Dillon MacAvoy wanted me to walk his dogs and read his scripts. I brushed a stray hair back from my forehead. Something about Dillon pressed hard against my heart. I was drawn to him. When he’d grabbed my arm tonight, heat had jolted through me. When he’d whispered in my ear, even with the awful words he said, I still couldn’t catch my breath with him so near. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to feel those giant hands on my body, stroking over me where no one had stroked before.
A moan drifted up from the yard. When I’d gotten home, I’d taken two ibuprofen and pulled open my balcony doors before I’d gone to bed. I’d hoped the fresh air would cool my body and my mind.
My heart clenched and I scrunched my eyes closed. A hard, sick feeling lodged in my belly. The voice was female. There was only one man in this house who could cause a woman to moan like that.
“Yes, please, Dillon. Please.”
I didn’t want to hear this. I couldn’t stand to hear this. I slid my foot to the floor beneath my bed. I wouldn’t look. Looking would be so bad. I pressed forward across the floor to the balcony doors. I would pull the doors closed and then please, hopefully, I wouldn’t have to hear the things I definitely didn’t want to hear.
I placed my hand on the knob of the door, but instead of pulling the door closed, my body moved forward. My heart accelerated as though it would burst through my ribs. What would I see? My foot stepped out on to the balcony. Every good part of me screamed don’t do it, don’t look down, but every part that was curious had to peer over the balcony. I had to see.
I looked over the edge. The pool lights were on and an aqua glow lit the yard. The girl with the long black hair was bent over the outdoor lounger. Her eyes were closed and her mouth was open. Her tongue flicked over her lips as soft, deep moans flowed from her mouth. Pleasure rushed across her face. She was naked. Barebacked. Her breasts rocked rhythmically and her ink-black hair fell to the side of her face.
Behind her was Dillon. His hands clasped her naked waist with a tight grip. My fingertips covered my mouth. His face was clenched and his head rolled from side to side as he pumped his body into her. The muscles of his chest glistened. His biceps tightened. He threw his head back and opened his eyes.
Our gazes locked. His blue eyes seared through me—I was frozen. I couldn’t move. Heat surged through me while my eyes were anchored to him. Heat that pooled in my belly and between my legs. My heart pounded. The world tilted with the thought that burst into my brain.
I wanted to be that girl.
A growl coursed over his lips as he pumped into her and stared at me. Tingles cascaded over my skin. I wanted Dillon to strain and growl and be inside me. I’d never been any of that to any man, but I wanted to be that for Dillon.
I watched as she moaned and pressed backward. I watched as he thrust hard into her.
“Yes, yes!” the girl yelled.
The sound of her voice broke my trance. I jumped backward into the darkness of my room. I shouldn’t have watched. I shouldn’t want this.
About the Author
Maggie Marr grew up in the Midwest and made the move to Los Angeles to work in the movie business. She was a motion picture literary agent for ICM before becoming a full time writer. She's written for film and TV and ghostwritten for celebrities. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband and children.
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