COVER REVEAL
Forbid Me (The Good Ol' Boys)
Best Selling Author M. Robinson
Cover Model: Kevin Lajeunesse
Cover Design: The Final Wrap
It was only a matter of time until the truth came out.
I never thought it would come to this…
I tried, God knows I tried to stay away from her but eventually I crossed that line and broke that trust. I could no longer go back and I sure as fuck didn’t regret a single moment of it. I knew there would be hell to pay, I knew the wrath I’d be facing but I would willingly take the burns and scars just to have the love of my best friend's sister.
If there is one person I’d willingly go to hell and back for it was…
Lillian Ryder
I never thought it would come to this…
I tried, God knows I tried to stay away from her but eventually I crossed that line and broke that trust. I could no longer go back and I sure as fuck didn’t regret a single moment of it. I knew there would be hell to pay, I knew the wrath I’d be facing but I would willingly take the burns and scars just to have the love of my best friend's sister.
If there is one person I’d willingly go to hell and back for it was…
Lillian Ryder
Standalone within a series. New Adult Contemporary Romance: Strong language and sexual content, not intended for readers under 18.
The soft strumming of a guitar immediately assaulted my
senses, but that wasn’t what made the hair at the end of my arms stand at
attention. I closed my eyes needing to check my emotions and the thoughts that
attacked my mind at rapid speed.
One right after the other.
They were disastrous and unforgiving.
The strumming of the guitar was effortless and defined. I would
recognize it anywhere. No one could play like she could.
No one.
That voice…
It was smooth like silk but raw enough to give you chills.
That song…
Would be a permanent reminder of what I lost.
That night…
Would forever haunt me. My days and nights.
God… I couldn’t think of that night without my cock getting
hard and the shame engulfing me almost simultaneously. Metallica’s lyrics of
Nothing Else Matters took me back to another time, another place, where I
pretended that she was mine…
I was always hers.
Always.
Her face…
Her eyes…
Her body…
I remembered it all, and I hadn’t even looked up to see her.
I didn’t have to. She was engrained in my mind. In my heart. In my soul.
She sang the chorus over again with the emotions bleeding off
the strings of her guitar and her voice. The guitar solo followed making the
crowd scream and cheer for her talent. Her energy was fucking contagious, it
always had been. I felt it all around me even though I still hadn’t opened my
eyes to take her in. I knew she was biting her fucking lip, it didn’t matter
how many damn times I told her she was going to bite it off. I’d memorized the
feel of her lips against my mouth the way I’d take that same goddamn lip and
bite on it myself.
Wanting a piece of
her.
Needing a piece of
her.
Her voice dropped to a soft tone, as did her guitar. The
song ended and the crowd went even more wild and ravenous for her.
“Well, hello there fucking Nashville!”
They hollered higher and louder. She always knew how to work
a crowd.
“Welcome to Bootleggers! Who’s gettin’ fucked up tonight?”
“Yeah!” they shouted.
“Who’s gettin’ fucking laid tonight?”
They shouted again, whistling and clapping that time. I
shook my head with a smile I didn’t bother trying to hide.
“That’s what I’m talking about! Down and dirty in the
fuckin’ South!” she yelled in the same southern drawl she hated as a child.
“I’m going to take a little break—”
“Booooooo!”
She giggled and my cock twitched.
“I know, darlins’, I’m too fucking pretty to look at. I’ll
be back, I promise! In the meantime buy me a fuckin’ shot! My name’s Kid.”
I immediately looked up, right at her. I swear to God my
chest seized and she literally took my goddamn breath away. Wearing short daisy
dukes and a miniscule shirt that had “Whiskey Makes Me Frisky” written across
her breasts. The damn thing looked like it was as old as me. Her entire stomach
bare, her belly button now pierced and her long dark hair cascading down her
back, almost touching her ass. The tiny frame that I fucking loved was still
the same, but she looked grown up. Older. Her legs, her fucking legs. I
remembered them wrapped around me and I had to shake my head to erase the
images that had my cock hard and my heart heavy.
Best
Selling Author M. Robinson loves to read. She favors anything that has angst,
romance, triangles, cheating, love, and of course sex! She has been reading
since the Babysitters Club and R.L. Stein.
She
was born in New Jersey but was raised in Tampa Fl. She is currently pursuing
her Ph.D in psychology, with two years left.
She
is married to an amazing man who she loves to pieces. They have two German
Shepherd mixes and a Tabby cat.
HOSTED BY:
No comments:
Post a Comment