Blurb - Needing to revive her live and jump start her heart, Jennifer Larson faces the biggest challenge of her life, moving into an unplanned future. While the rest of the Executive Wives Club continue to mourn their husbands, Jen is tempted into the future by a sexy chiropractor, Hagan Chaney.
But does he really love her or is he only after her money?
Excerpt
“I shouldn’t kiss you. Not with the current mess my life is in but…” She slid her hands around his neck and fell against him in a full frontal attack. Plush breasts lay flat against his chest, and the whole length of her luscious body caressed his. Blood pounded through his veins and a roar sounded in his ears.
If she wanted to talk about whose life was in a bigger mess, some people might claim he’d win. The past—he shook his head to clear his thoughts—didn’t determine the future.
Bull’s-eye. For once, he felt right on target and had no plans to deviate off course.
He lifted his hand to cup her cheek and skimmed his fingers over smooth skin. Oh, how he yearned for this woman. Why, he couldn’t say, didn’t care. They’d work out whatever problems that arose.
Now, he had to allow her time to grow used to having a man in her life again.
Tilting her face toward his, he stared into her eyes. A dark flame burned in their depths. He inched closer and heavy lids veiled the blazing fire. Velvety soft lips greeted his.
After one little nibble, he couldn’t resist sinking into the pure bliss of kissing her. A groan rumbled in his throat and he gave himself over to the pleasure. Heat ignited and he broke out in a sweat. His hands took on a will of their own, sliding to her shoulders, down her back, tugging her closer and keeping her pinned to him.
The rough wool of her coat chafed against his palm and warned of a scratchy exterior. She might fight him every step of the way by resisting his advances or denying the strong attraction between them but...
She melted against him and her hands tunneled through his hair. The light scrape of nails raked his scalp, igniting his nerve endings. His brain grew foggy. Only his tongue pumping hard into her mouth kept sanity in sight.
He’d replayed their last kiss in his mind for days, but it paled in comparison. Her body hadn’t trembled with hard shock waves in his memory. Nor had she tugged on his hair in the same demanding way. Her taste, with its unique flavor, hadn’t held the smooth caress of chocolate. When had she partaken of the tasty treat?
Pulling away, he stared at her heat-stained cheeks. Lips slightly swollen, air swished in and out of her mouth on quick little breaths. She didn’t speak, but her hands stayed buried in his hair.
“Want to try another one?” Hagan held her tight, afraid if he loosened his hold she’d race away. “No phone, no dog, no one to stop us from enjoying a second kiss.”
Jen kept her eyes on his, unwilling to admit she’d relinquished control. “Wrong. I have my cell phone.”
He leaned in and whispered against her lips, “Then I better hurry.”
His mouth seized hers, snatched the air from her lungs and threw her off balance. The wicked punch of his tongue plunged her into a firestorm. Bold, battering desire caught fire. Passion flared. The war on her senses shut down all logic.
Only the heat, the inferno sliced her in half and demanded she surrender to Hagan’s eagerness—her needs. Breasts aching, she hated the barrier her coat created, which kept the caress of his rock-hard chest at bay. She shimmied against him, silently wishing their clothes would simply disappear.
Hagan slid his hand over her hips and under her jacket.
She moaned encouragingly and eased her mouth from his. “Hagan, I...”
A low chime rang between them.
“Damn,” Hagan grumbled and scrambled in his pocket with one hand. “I can’t believe this. We must be cursed or something.”
Jen eased away, chuckling at the truth of his statement.
Could Craig’s spirit somehow be watching and dwarfing her attempts to become involved with someone else? She smiled at the whimsical theory. Craig couldn’t have cared less what she did while alive. Why would he care now?
After retrieving his cell, Hagan flipped it opened. “What’s up, Dad?”
“Are you in town?” A deep voice growled from the phone.
She wiggled and laid her hands on Hagan’s chest to create a little more space between them.
“No, why?” He tightened his grip, not allowing her to move.
“Because the weather is bad and visibility has dropped to less than a quarter of a mile. How soon are you headed back?”
Jen glanced over her shoulder. Hagan dropped his hands to his sides, and she walked back into the living room. The front window displayed the blizzard raging outside. Snow, several inches thick, had already accumulated on her car.
She’d known about the weather forecast but had pushed the possibility of a snowstorm aside. Hagan had called every day, wanting to see more houses. With this being his only day off until Sunday, he’d stressed his eagerness to visit the houses she’d found today.
How could she refuse his request? He’d understood when she claimed to have other commitments earlier during the week. Now, she had to man up and perform her job, even if she had a good reason for avoiding him.
She ran her finger above her lips and recalled the moments before Hagan’s phone rang—the heat, the man, the yearning to forget everything and jump him. What would it be like to be held, touched, and loved by Hagan?
Memories of Craig rolling over and falling immediately to sleep after sex filled her head. Once his needs were met, he had no more desire for her and complained if she tried to snuggle, saying her nearness disturbed his ability to rest.
No, sleeping with Hagan wasn’t a good idea. Sex required a certain amount of trust. And what did she know about him?
She glanced around at the deserted house. Not the place or the time to let things get out of hand.