Showing posts with label Stripped Series. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stripped Series. Show all posts
STRIPPED DOWN
By Emma Hart
![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000037_00035]](http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/strippeddown3-192x300.jpg)
What do you get when you mix a bottle of tequila, a single mom moonlighting as a stripper, and her sinfully sexy boss with an impulsive side?
Married. You get married.
Rich. Demanding. Hot. Crazy.
That was Beckett Cruz in a nutshell.
Not to mention wild, determined, dangerous, and forbidden.
He was my boss—and, after a drunken moment of insanity, my new husband.
An annulment was impossible... so was keeping him.
I was taking my daughter and leaving, determined to give her a quieter life.
But Beckett Cruz had never taken no for an answer.
And he wasn't about to take mine.
What happens in Vegas... might just keep you there.
Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA |
Barnes & Noble | iBooks
MY REVIEW
EXCERPT
“Beck?” I managed to get his name out just before he opened the front door.
“Yeah?” He spun back to face me, his dark eyes unreadable.
I
turned my face to the side so I could see him fully. “You don't have to
go,” I said softly. “You can stay. Only if you want to though.”
He
rubbed his hand down his face, his eyes never leaving mine, then walked
back into the kitchen toward me. I stood up away from the fridge as he
stopped right next to me.
Slowly,
he touched his hand to my face, his fingertips teasing my hairline. His
dark gaze searched mine, and my heart jumped into my throat as the
usual tingles his touch sparked danced down my neck. Then, he slid his
hand into my hair, allowing the blonde strands to fall away from his
fingertips.
“Do
I want to go home to my big-ass house with its cold emptiness?” he
asked in a low voice. “Or go to the club where half the girls there
still see me as a mountain to be conquered? Not particularly, Blondie.
I'd rather stay here. Even if there will be a demand for movies and
water and foot rubs from a tiny, sick person.”
“You
can.” My voice was quiet, like his. Even if my internal screams from
self-preservation and vulnerability were deafeningly loud as they told
me I was a fool, that he had to go, that this would never be enough for
him.
“Do you want me to?” His question was... honest.
Raw.
Hesitant.
Like he didn't want me to answer.
“Do
I want you to stay here in my tiny house so my daughter can fall more
in love with you than she already is? Not really. But...” Don't be a fool, Cassie. Don't admit you want him to stay. He's just going to hurt you. “I don't exactly want you to go either.”
“For her, or for you?”
“I don't want to answer that question.”
“If I kissed you right now, would you ram your knee into my cock?”
“I'd briefly consider it, but I probably wouldn't do it.”
His lips twitched to the side. “You just answered the question.”
Then,
of course, he cupped the back of my head, and he kissed me. It was
slow, sweet, gentle. And I didn't consider kneeing him in the balls for a
single second.
Beck
pulled back and trailed his hand down my arm before he finally let me
go. “I'm going home to get changed and then come back. Do you need
anything while I'm gone? For CiCi? You?”
“I
don't...” I sighed and chewed back my pride. “I meant to go to the
store today after work to get some stuff like bread, milk... important
stuff. But now I can't.”
“I can get it. Just tell me what you need.”
I
bit the inside of my lip, then nodded. “Okay. Let me write it down.” I
walked through into the front room with him hot on my heels and grabbed
the notebook and pen from under the coffee table. A few things were
already scrawled down, so I added a couple more things, including more
medicine. I tore the sheet off the notebook, stood, then gave it to
Beck. “Let me get my wallet.”
He grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “I'm not taking your money.”
I lifted my gaze to his. “You can't pay for my groceries.”
“I can and I will.”
“You can't and you won't.”
“I can and I will.”
“You can't and you won't.”
“I
can do this all day, baby. I'm stubborn as fuck.” His eyes told me he
wasn't lying. “And we all know I'm a brat about the word no. So, I can, I
will, and I'm going to. If I can't help you by buying a measly eight
items, I'm an asshole who shouldn't be allowed around other people.”
“You can't buy my groceries,” I repeated. It was a lame argument. I was going to lose, but I'd fight until I went down.
Beck's
eyes twinkled as he leaned in. “Don't worry. If you really want to pay
me back, I'll take a blow job. I imagine your lips around my cock will
be a pretty good thank you.”
My jaw dropped as he backed off with a wink.
“Mouth open already, Cassie? Enthusiasm. I like that.”
I snapped my jaw shut and glared at him. “You're a dirty pig.”
“I
know. But I've got fifty bucks that says you'll be sucking my dick by
bedtime. If you don't agree...” He shrugged one shoulder, his lips
curved in that dangerous smirk.
“If you're lucky, I'll bite it.”
“I'll take that as I'm in for a good time.”
One more wink, complete with expanding grin, and he was gone.
Motherfucking asshole.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
By
day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma
Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little
monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she
fancies - usually wine - and writes books.
Emma
is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and
fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects
involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a
sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a
whole lotta love.
She likes to be busy - unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.
FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
So it’s no secret I absolutely loved Stripped Bare
so as soon as I found out Beck was getting his own book I was jumping up and
down begging to have my dirty little hands all over it. But I was pretty sure
there was no way Emma Hart could pull off another story as good as Stripped
Bare about strippers.
Then I heard Beck’s story was going to feature a
single mum and my hopes got even higher, but then I was scared I would expect too
much and be disappointed. But then I started reading it and I just lifted my
head and realised I have finished it and a whole heap of time has passed and
damn did Emma Hart nail it.
If you read Stripped Bare first you have a feel for
who Beck is and other than the fact he is sweet to Mia he kind of seemed like a
bit of a pig. If you haven’t read Stripped Bare first, don’t panic you really
don’t need to as it has no bearing on this story you just missed out on an
awesome read and a tiny bit of info on Beck that isn’t really relevant to this
story.
First I should say Beck wasn’t at all what I was
expecting him to be. I think it might be my own personal bias that I was
expecting him to be the one reluctant about his sudden marriage especially when
he found out about the six year old complication he had also now signed up for.
But nope he was all in and he was so sweet and caring that I felt like
screaming at Cass.
Not that Cass did anything I can’t understand. I
mean seriously who wouldn’t freak out waking up next to the man-whore owner of
the strip club your ashamed you have to work in and finding out you married
him. I not only got her fears and reticence I fully supported them, but oh my
god did Beck go above and beyond in the sexy and sweet departments.
Of course you
can’t be surprised that the star of the show was Cass’s beautiful daughter and
of course seeing Mia and West was a great bonus.
STRIPPED DOWN
By Emma Hart
Release Day August 30![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000037_00035]](http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/strippeddown3-655x1024.jpg)
What do you get when you mix a bottle of tequila, a single mom moonlighting as a stripper, and her sinfully sexy boss with an impulsive side?
Married. You get married.
Rich. Demanding. Hot. Crazy.
That was Beckett Cruz in a nutshell.
Not to mention wild, determined, dangerous, and forbidden.
He was my boss—and, after a drunken moment of insanity, my new husband.
An annulment was impossible... so was keeping him.
I was taking my daughter and leaving, determined to give her a quieter life.
But Beckett Cruz had never taken no for an answer.
And he wasn't about to take mine.
What happens in Vegas... might just keep you there.
Pre-order Amazon US | Amazon UK | Amazon AU | Amazon CA |
Barnes & Noble | iBooks
![Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000035_00022]](http://www.inkslingerpr.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/08/STRIPPED-DOWN-full-cover-draft-1024x759.jpg)
EXCERPT
“Beck?” I managed to get his name out just before he opened the front door.
“Yeah?” He spun back to face me, his dark eyes unreadable.
I turned my face to the side so I could see him fully. “You don't have to go,” I said softly. “You can stay. Only if you want to though.”
He rubbed his hand down his face, his eyes never leaving mine, then walked back into the kitchen toward me. I stood up away from the fridge as he stopped right next to me.
Slowly, he touched his hand to my face, his fingertips teasing my hairline. His dark gaze searched mine, and my heart jumped into my throat as the usual tingles his touch sparked danced down my neck. Then, he slid his hand into my hair, allowing the blonde strands to fall away from his fingertips.
“Do I want to go home to my big-ass house with its cold emptiness?” he asked in a low voice. “Or go to the club where half the girls there still see me as a mountain to be conquered? Not particularly, Blondie. I'd rather stay here. Even if there will be a demand for movies and water and foot rubs from a tiny, sick person.”
“You can.” My voice was quiet, like his. Even if my internal screams from self-preservation and vulnerability were deafeningly loud as they told me I was a fool, that he had to go, that this would never be enough for him.
“Do you want me to?” His question was... honest.
Raw.
Hesitant.
Like he didn't want me to answer.
“Do I want you to stay here in my tiny house so my daughter can fall more in love with you than she already is? Not really. But...” Don't be a fool, Cassie. Don't admit you want him to stay. He's just going to hurt you. “I don't exactly want you to go either.”
“For her, or for you?”
“I don't want to answer that question.”
“If I kissed you right now, would you ram your knee into my cock?”
“I'd briefly consider it, but I probably wouldn't do it.”
His lips twitched to the side. “You just answered the question.”
Then, of course, he cupped the back of my head, and he kissed me. It was slow, sweet, gentle. And I didn't consider kneeing him in the balls for a single second.
Beck pulled back and trailed his hand down my arm before he finally let me go. “I'm going home to get changed and then come back. Do you need anything while I'm gone? For CiCi? You?”
“I don't...” I sighed and chewed back my pride. “I meant to go to the store today after work to get some stuff like bread, milk... important stuff. But now I can't.”
“I can get it. Just tell me what you need.”
I bit the inside of my lip, then nodded. “Okay. Let me write it down.” I walked through into the front room with him hot on my heels and grabbed the notebook and pen from under the coffee table. A few things were already scrawled down, so I added a couple more things, including more medicine. I tore the sheet off the notebook, stood, then gave it to Beck. “Let me get my wallet.”
He grabbed my wrist, stopping me. “I'm not taking your money.”
I lifted my gaze to his. “You can't pay for my groceries.”
“I can and I will.”
“You can't and you won't.”
“I can and I will.”
“You can't and you won't.”
“I can do this all day, baby. I'm stubborn as fuck.” His eyes told me he wasn't lying. “And we all know I'm a brat about the word no. So, I can, I will, and I'm going to. If I can't help you by buying a measly eight items, I'm an asshole who shouldn't be allowed around other people.”
“You can't buy my groceries,” I repeated. It was a lame argument. I was going to lose, but I'd fight until I went down.
Beck's eyes twinkled as he leaned in. “Don't worry. If you really want to pay me back, I'll take a blow job. I imagine your lips around my cock will be a pretty good thank you.”
My jaw dropped as he backed off with a wink.
“Mouth open already, Cassie? Enthusiasm. I like that.”
I snapped my jaw shut and glared at him. “You're a dirty pig.”
“I know. But I've got fifty bucks that says you'll be sucking my dick by bedtime. If you don't agree...” He shrugged one shoulder, his lips curved in that dangerous smirk.
“If you're lucky, I'll bite it.”
“I'll take that as I'm in for a good time.”
One more wink, complete with expanding grin, and he was gone.
Motherfucking asshole.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies - usually wine - and writes books.
Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.
She likes to be busy - unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.
FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE
Holy shit that has to be one of the hottest books
I have read in a while. I literally couldn’t put it down once I picked it up.
West was the perfect wet dream of a man.
Seriously. Damn!!! Sexy stripper. Successful businessman. Dirty Talking
extraordinaire. With the right mix of take charge bossy alpha and sweet and
sensitive caring guy. I think I came just thinking about him.
“You didn’t mention your name,” I gasped when he kissed his way down my neck. My hands moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, my back arching. “West,” he replied, the word a murmur against my skin. “Now you know what to scream when I fuck you.” Yes. Yes, I did.
Mia was awesome too. She was quirky and hilarious
and I loved her inner dialogue almost as much as I loved the random crazy that
fell out of her mouth. Add in the relationships she had with her friends and I
had quite a few laugh out loud moments that just made me love her so much.
Which isn’t to say she didn’t have her faults. I
seriously wanted to slap her commitment phobic ass quite a few times but then
West would come along and say something growly or dirty or sexy or sweet and
make me all wet and swoony and I would forget my earlier ire.
I feel like I spent the duration of this book in
a fog of lust. Infact I am pretty sure my ovaries have exploded and random
hormones have taken over my brain because I can’t get the sappy stupid smile
off my face from reading this and its 2am and I have to get up in 5 hours but I
HAD to jump out of bed and grab my laptop to rant over the awesomeness that was
Stripped Bare and Emma Hart.
“What can I do for you?” Everything you shouldn’t. Mind, meet gutter. You’ll get along well.
But I do have to admit there were a few editing
errors that did make me want to drag out my red pen but then did I mention West
and the swooning? And what was I saying? Oh that’s right. What the Hell Emma?
How could you throw that tiny taste of Beck in there at the end when I have to
wait nearly 2 whole months? Because jeez do I love Beck. I actually kinda hoped
a little bit that we might have seen a little Mia sammich but then West getting
growly was probably better.
Yup I am lying, but I wouldn’t have loved the
book as much as I did if West could have shared her,but that doesn’t mean I
can’t lie back in bed and picture West and Beck all oiled up side by side in
their tighty whiteys. And on that note I am off to see if Emma needs any ARC
readers for Stripped Down because that has my name all over it. Single mum and
Beck, Fuck yeah. Bring it on.
Blurb
When unlucky in
love Mia O'Halloran finds herself face to Sex God V-Lines with a chiseled, hot
male stripper in possession of a package not even the postal service could
lose, what happens in Vegas is definitely supposed to stay in Vegas.
She doesn't expect
to find Mr. Multiple Oh-Oh-Oh as her client—and hell, how is she supposed to
pitch a marketing plan when she can remember how easily he briefed her g-spot
on an orgasm... or five?
West Rykman has one
rule: you don't mix business with pleasure. They can look, but unless they're
shoving a dollar inside his pants, they can't touch. He learned that lesson the
hard way two years ago.
He had no idea the
flame-haired vixen with a penchant for hot, kinky sex and a mouth that would
make a hooker cry would be the one to bend—and break—his rule.
She's sworn off men
after ten too many heartbreaks.
He's determined
he'll never lose it all for a woman again.
She's pretty
screwed.
He's really
screwed.
And not in the
we're-not-sleeping-tonight way...
Amazon: Sign up to be notified | Barnes & Noble | iBooks
Excerpt
“Hi,” I said into the phone. “What’s up?”
“Me,” he rumbled back. “I’m pretty sure
I’ve been hard all fucking day.”
I swallowed. Was this phone sex? I’d never
done phone sex before.
“West?”
“Yeah?”
“Are we going to have phone sex?”
He paused. “Do you want to have phone sex?”
“Are you hard?”
“I’m always hard when I think about you.”
I felt like I needed to preen a little.
“I’ve never had phone sex before.”
“What kind of assholes have you been
dating?”
“You really don’t want to go there. We’ll
be here all night. I mean, seriously. I bore myself at this point.”
“You’re rambling. Are you drunk?”
“I wish,” I mumbled. I needed to be drunk
to phone-sex, didn’t I?
Yes, I decided, blankly staring at my TV. I
did. And not just any kind of drunk. I needed to be absolutely hammered.
“You didn’t answer the question, Mia,” he
said softly.
Oh. Right. Did I want to. Well, I had
looked at that picture several times...
“Yes. I want to.” I was officially crazy.
I’d lost my mind. No doubt about it.
“Where are you right now?”
Through the phone, I heard a door shut.
“Are you in bed?” he asked.
“No.”
“Get into bed. Take your clothes off
first.”
His tone was commanding and strong, and
before I could think it through, I was in my room, my phone was on the bed, and
I was stripping down to my underwear.
I picked the phone up and climbed in bed.
“I’m in bed.”
“Good.” His voice was a little gruff. “What
are you wearing?”
I bit down on my lower lip and glanced at
the scarlet-red underwear set I had on. “Hold on.” I brought up the camera on
my phone, kicked the sheets to the side, and took a photo of myself using the
front camera. It was good enough, so I texted it to him. “Check your messages.”
He was silent for a good few seconds. Then
there was, “Jesus, Mia. Fucking hell.”
“Do you...like it?”
“Like it? You look sexy as fuck. If I were
with you right now, I’d rip those fucking panties off you.”
“And do what?” Look at me go.
He laughed slightly. “Kiss you,” he
answered roughly, all traces of laughter from his voice gone. “I’d run my hands
up your body as you wrap your legs around my waist.”
I swallowed, my clit aching as the low tone
of his voice mixed with his words turned me on.
“I’d kiss down your neck and unclasp your
bra so I could touch your gorgeous tits.”
My hand hovered as I contemplated doing it—and
then I did it. One quick fiddle with the clasp between them and my bra cups
fell to my side. My nipples were hard, and I cupped my right breast, my thumb
ghosting over my nipple.
“I’d take them in my mouth. Roll my tongue
over your hard nipples until you moan beneath me and beg me for more.”
My eyes closed.
“And then I’d kiss my way down your stomach
to those tiny, red panties.”
My hand took on a life of its own as it
followed his words. My fingertips trailed down the center of my stomach until they
brushed the waistband of the red lace thong.
“Then what?” I asked.
“Then I’d peel them down your legs and,
once they were off, open your legs so I could see your wet little pussy.” He
exhaled. “Are you naked?”
“Yes,” I replied softly.
“I want to see you.”
“Will you send one back?”
“Yes.”
“Okay,” I whispered. Then I awkwardly took
a picture.
Luckily it wasn’t blurred, and no sooner
had I sent it to him than one came right back. No face, just like mine, and my
eyes skipped right over the hot body to where he looked like he had a tight
grip on his cock.
I struggled to right my breathing. I was
even more turned on now, seeing that he was too.
“Fuck, Mia. I’m so hard for you.”
I swallowed. “Are you touching yourself?”
“Yes. But, if you send me another picture
like that, I won’t need to.” He paused. “Are you touching yourself?”
“Not yet.”
“Touch yourself. Now. Open your legs and
slide your fingers over your clit.” The demanding tone was back, and I loved
the thrill that danced down my spine on a shiver. “Rub it and put a finger
inside your pussy. I want to know how you feel when you fuck your own tight
pussy.”
My heart pounded in my chest as I did what
he’d said. I slid my hand down between my legs, ghosted a fingertip over my
clit, and bit down on my lower lip as I pushed my middle finger inside myself.
“Move it,” he ordered me, his voice gruff.
“Rub your thumb against your clit. Fuck your own hand, Mia, and imagine it’s
mine. Imagine I’m there watching you finger yourself and get off.”
About the Author
By
day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma
Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little
monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she
fancies - usually wine - and writes books.
Emma
is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and
fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects
involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a
sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a
whole lotta love.
She likes to be busy - unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.
FACEBOOK | TWITTER | GOODREADS | AMAZON | NEWSLETTER
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