Because first love deserves a
second chance
Standalone Contemporary Romance
You met Danny's best
friend, Luke Anders in Models on Top.
Now it's time to really get to know this
dirty talking, sexy producer in his own standalone contemporary romance.
Dirty Talk will
release on September 1st.
Add Dirty Talk to
your TBR here: http://bit.ly/2aJPUjk
Blurb
One month.
One movie.
One shot at a second chance.
I fell madly in love
at first sight with Jane Lewis.
The girl with bright
blue eyes, a pretty smile, and great ass owned my heart. I thought she was
happy with the status quo, but ten years later, I foolishly let her go. Despite
dating other women, no one compares to my first love. We are meant to be together,
and I’m going to try my damnedest to convince her of that.
Luke Anders tricked me. The deal was sealed before I knew he was
behind it.
We agreed to be just
friends. Simple. Easy. But it’s not just the weather that’s hot in Texas. I was
a fool to think I could resist him. He knows how to work his charms and those
kissable lips, that great jaw, and biceps. We are here to work, but he has become
downright distracting.
I’m strong. I can
handle one month of his flirtatious sexual torture. But if I happen to fall in
bed with that sexy bastard for a night, or three, does that make me weak?
Asking for a friend, of course.
I guess I’m about to find
out when love gets messy, it’s not just the talk that’s dirty.
Excerpt
~Luke Anders~
“What if I touched you right where
you want to be touched?” I slide my hand up her thigh, inching her skirt up
slowly. Her breath catches, the quiet gasp making me smile. “What if I touched
you right where you pretend to be so protective? I know you. I know you like it
dirty . . . maybe even a little rough.”
She finds her voice, though it’s
affected, sexy. “A lot.”
“What is that?”
Clearing her throat, she says, “I
like it rough. Really rough.”
The right side of my mouth curves
up, my hand stalling just below the apex of her thighs when my phone buzzes. I
release a sigh. Grabbing the phone from my pocket, I sit up and read the text: Let’s get the fuck out of here. I look
back at the black-haired raven I’ve left squirming on the metal barstool next
to me. Pity. I’d like to explore
exactly how she likes it, but duty calls. Standing up suddenly, I grab my
wallet and slap some bills down for the drinks.
“What are you doing?” she demands,
desperation lacing her tone as her eyes go wide.
I tuck my wallet back into the
inside pocket of my Vittori suit jacket and kiss her on the cheek. Since I’m
there, I add with a wink, “I bet we’d be so fucking good together.”
Straightening upright, I smirk. “My apologies. I hate to run, but
unfortunately, I have a prior engagement I can’t get out of. Maybe we can pick
this up another time. I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”
She huffs. “You’re a playboy
bastard, Luke Anders,” rolls off her tongue in frustrated anger as she spins
back to the bar.
I know. Not turning back, I nod.
It’s not the first time I’ve been called a playboy or a bastard. Name-calling
doesn’t bother me. Not getting laid tonight does.
Pushing open the exit door that
leads to the alley, my asshole friends are waiting near the car they’ve pulled
around.
The rusting red door slams shut, the
click of the lock heard loudly behind me. The alley is quiet compared to the
loud music that blares inside the club. “Fuckers.” With my arms out wide, I
yell, “What the fuck? Where’s the fire? I was closing the deal.”
“We were saving you, man. Trust me
on that.” My best friend is standing in front of the car with his arms crossed
over his chest. Danny Weston is one of the best people I know, but right now,
he’s pissing me the fuck off.
“Saving me from what?”
“Ask Blaise. He has firsthand
knowledge.”
When I shoot an annoyed look in
Blaise’s direction, he clams up. With hands up in surrender, he backs away
toward the driver’s door. “I can’t help that the ladies love me.” Thus
confirming he’s already hit that pretty kitty.
I walk to the passenger’s side of
the car, punching Danny on the arm when I pass him. “Shit, man, just give me a
heads-up next time. I wasted some of my best lines on her.”
Danny claims the front seat, so I
duck into the back seat of a restored 1969 black Gran Torino. Cocky behind the
wheel, Blaise takes off before we even have our seatbelts on, and says, “Stop
hitting on everyone that takes pity on you then.”
“Fuck you. I can get any woman I
want. No one’s taking pity on me.”
Danny breaks into the argument, “You
guys really need to find a new hobby.”
“One-night stands are plenty
entertaining,” Blaise retorts, smiling.
Danny puts his arm on the back of
the seat and turns toward me. “I’m not going to lecture you—”
“Again,” I add.
“Again,” he repeats while rolling
his eyes. “But we’ve talked about this a fuck ton of times. She’s not Jane and
until you figure out what the hell is going on there, or if anything is going
on there, these women are all the same—just another disappointment you’re going
to have in the morning because they’re not her.”
Blaise verbally steps in, “Damn,
dude, why so deep? You’re bringing me down.”
Danny laughs. I don’t. We’ve been
friends for many years now, so Danny knows my game. He knows me well enough to
know what I’m doing. Until I sort out this mess with the first woman I ever
loved, the rest are just regrets waiting to happen, along with the regrets I
can’t take back.
But I know him well too. We relate
in a way that Blaise doesn’t understand, on a level that one day he’d be lucky
to experience. No matter what I’ve been through with Jane, I’ve loved, hard. I
know what it means to love and to be loved. I have no regrets when it comes to
Jane, except one: letting her go.
Sweet Talk aka Models On Top- Danny is NOW AVAILABLE
& FREE on Kindle Unlimited!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2aIyNvh
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2b0IBll
About S.L. Scott
New York Times and
USA Bestselling Author, S. L. Scott, was always interested in the arts. She
grew up painting, writing poetry and short stories, and willing her days away
lost in a good book and the movies.
With a degree in
Journalism, she continued her love of the written word by reading American
authors like Salinger and Fitzgerald. She was intrigued by their flawed
characters living in picture perfect worlds, but could still debate that the
world those characters lived in were actually the flawed ones. This dynamic of
leaving the reader invested in the words, inspired Scott to start writing with
emotion while interjecting an underlying passion into her own stories.
Living in the capital
of Texas with her family, Scott loves traveling and avocados, beaches, and
cooking with her kids. She's obsessed with epic romances and loves a good plot
twist. She dreams of seeing one of her own books made into a movie one day as
well as returning to Europe. Her favorite color is blue, but she likens it more
toward the sky than the emotion. Her home is filled with the welcoming symbol
of the pineapple and finds surfing a challenge though she likes to think she's
a pro.
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