With: Christina Phillips
Giveaway Alert!

Excerpt
A couple of hours later, I walk her home. It’s only a
few minutes from the pub, and as we cross the Portobello Road, somehow our
fingers link together. Was that me or her? I shoot her a sideways glance, but
she’s looking straight ahead, almost as though she’s no idea we’re holding
hands.
Stealthily, I tighten my fingers around hers, and she
doesn’t snatch her hand away. Instead, she subtly leans my way, her arm barely
grazing mine, and it’s the sexiest damn thing ever.
We reach her house way too soon and stand by the
doorstep facing each other, still holding hands. It’d be funny if it weren’t so
surreal.
“Good night, then.” There’s a husky note in her voice
I’ve never heard before.
Yes, I have. But only once, and she was in my bed.
“Night.” It comes out like a growl.
Let go of her
hand. I tug her forward, and she
doesn’t pull back. It’s like I’m sixteen again, taking a girl home after a date,
standing on the doorstep before stealing a good-night kiss.
Don’t kiss
her. But it’s a faint warning, drowned out by the primal
need pounding through me. In the half-light that spills from the miniature
streetlamp by the side of the house, she’s gazing at me. Lips parted, breath
uneven. And her scent, which has been driving me crazy all night, drifts in the
air between us like an unspoken promise.
Closer. Her breath is warm against my jaw, and her fingers
tighten around mine. It’s a bad idea. The
worst. We’ve been friends again for only two days. Am I really going to
risk ruining things again for one fleeting kiss?
Nothing’s worth that. I’m not going to screw this up.
I need her in my life. Even if she can never be anything more but one of the
best friends I’ve ever had.
Say goodbye
and walk away.
Our lips meet, and she’s soft and sweet. Just like the first time. A tortured
groan burns my throat, and a shudder runs through her.
Pull back.
Like that’s even an option. I cradle her face, my
thumb stroking her heated cheek. She sighs and slides the tip of her tongue
into my mouth, and my whole damn brain shuts down.
Blinding light cuts through the night, freezing us to
the spot. Headlights. Mac’s dad.
Shit.
My reflexes are shot to hell, but she pulls back,
panting. She doesn’t take her eyes from me as she untangles our fingers. I drag
my hand over my head. Should I say something?
Like what?
Her dad parks in front of the garage and gets out of
the car. She swings around as he reaches us. He kisses her on the cheek then
turns to me as if there’s nothing strange about me standing here with Mac.
“Hello, Will. Are you coming in for a nightcap?”
I’m guessing he didn’t see the kiss. Thank Christ.
“Sorry. Things to do.” There’s no way I’m accepting
his offer. Not when I’ve got an epic hard-on. I don’t think I’ll even be able
to walk straight, never mind sit down.
He opens the front door and goes inside, and Mac
hovers on the doorstep, an unreadable expression on her face. But then she
takes a deep breath as though she’s come to a decision.
“Thanks for tonight. It was fun.”
“Anytime.”
“Okay. See you around.”
I can’t figure out if it’s a question or an
invitation, or just an empty expression that means nothing. I grunt, and she
slowly closes the door in my face.
So much for going back to being friends only. The
first time we’re alone and I can’t keep my hands to myself. I’ve just proved
there’s no going back. Even though she’ll never share my bed again, I can’t
forget that night. It’s branded in my brain. And now that we’ve moved past the
weird zone of the last couple of years, my despicable need to touch her is like
an impossible addiction.
There’s only one thing I can do.
I need to
stay the hell away from Mackenzie Carter.
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Two years ago, I accidentally,
yeah maybe on purpose, crossed that line with
my best friend and it ruined everything. I haven’t seen him much since.
But now he’s standing at my door.
Same lumberjack build. Same
dark hair that begs my fingers to run through it. And then he gives me that
half smile, and I know I’m about to agree to do
something I’m going to regret.
I’ve got to spend two months with him now… and that’s not
the worst part.
Christina
Phillips is an ex-pat Brit, who now lives in Western Australia with her high
school sweetheart and their family. She’s had more than twenty romances
published, from novellas to single titles, in contemporary, ancient historical
and paranormal. Whatever the subgenre, she writes on the sizzling side of
naughty, and loves bringing her heroes to their knees (her heroines enjoy this,
too 😊)
She loves good coffee, expensive chocolate and
bad boy heroes, although not necessarily in that order. She’s also owned by
three gorgeous cats who are convinced the universe revolves around their needs.
As in all things, they are not wrong.
To keep up with her latest releases and
giveaways, sign up to her newsletter at http://christinaphillips.com
International Giveaway!
Do you like hot
British heroes?
To celebrate the
release of NOT SO HAPPILY EVER AFTER, I'm holding a giveaway of a signed copy
of the second British Bad Boys book, ONCE UPON A PLAYER *and* some adorable
British swag!
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