Exclusive Excerpt * Paige In Progress by Brighton Walsh

Posted January 7, 2016 by Yesi in Excerpt, Extras / 0 Comments

Exclusive Excerpt * Paige In Progress by Brighton WalshPaige in Progress (Reluctant Hearts #3) by Brighton Walsh
Also by this author: Caged in Winter, Captive, Tessa Ever After, Exposed, Paige in Progress (Reluctant Hearts, #3)
on January 19th 2016
Pages: 378
Goodreads


She wanted a one-night stand...and then he moved in next door.

Paige Bennett is more than content with her life and what she does—and does not—have in it. She’s got a supportive family, a great apartment, and the best friend a girl could ask for; so what if her relationships expire faster than a carton of milk? After a disastrous detour courtesy of poor judgment in the boyfriend department, her plan is back on track and her dream job is finally within her grasp. Nothing can make her lose focus now. Well, nothing except the one-night stand she had with her best friend’s surrogate brother. The one-night stand she can’t stop thinking about.
Adam Reid has always been reliable...the responsible son, the loyal friend, the steady boyfriend. Two years ago, he graduated Magna Cum Laude and is well on his way to making a name for himself at an accounting firm in Denver—a far cry from working as a helper in the Mom and Pop store his parents own in Michigan. But when said store starts failing, he’s the only one who can step in and help. So reliable Adam does what he always does, and he comes to the rescue.
Paige thought Adam was a safe bet because he lives halfway across the country. But then suddenly he’s moving back to their town, and then into her apartment building, and soon he’s worming his way right into her life. If she’s not careful, he might sneak his way into her heart, too...

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 *** Exclusive Excerpt ***

He hasn’t even done anything yet, and the anticipation is freakin’ killing me. What the hell is he working at? I can’t figure it out. Unless he was telling the truth when we were sitting in the car outside the batting cages. Maybe he really does need to get himself under control so he doesn’t crack.

Adam doesn’t crack often. And by often, I mean ever. That much is certain.

In the short trip to our apartment building, he’s relaxed in degrees, little by little, until he’s perfectly at ease as we walk down the steps inside, standing on the landing between our doors.

I’m a little tired of this waiting game, to be perfectly honest. It’s making me jumpy, flustered. I just want to get it over with. I have no idea what he has in store for me, but I’m anticipating the worst. What the worst is, I don’t know. I haven’t been brave enough to even allow myself to contemplate it. With a bravado I don’t feel, I say, “Time’s up, buster,” then I occupy myself as I fish for my keys in my bag. “It’s now or never.”

I don’t even feel him moving close, not until his breath whispers across my lips as he says, “Now.”

Startling, I glance up and he’s right there. Stepping into my space and causing me to retreat until my back presses against my door. “What…” I internally curse myself at the breathless quality of my voice, then swallow and try again. “What did you decide you want?”

He’s quiet for a minute, his eyes assessing me in a way that makes me nervous. “That’s a loaded question if I’ve ever heard it. I want it all, Paige. Don’t for a second think otherwise. But since you’re not ready to give me that, I’ll settle for something else. Something you’ve managed to keep from me.”

This man has licked my breasts, my thighs, the space between. He’s had me on my knees, on my back…has taken me in the most primal ways, so I’m having a really hard time figuring out what I’ve kept from him. But when his eyes drop to my lips, I know. I know. The thought causes me to suck in a breath. How is that possible? How can I crave him as much as I do and not even know what his lips feel like against my own? How do I not already know the taste, the texture, the pressure of his mouth?

And how I have lived without it?

“Last chance to back out.” He’s so close. Less than an inch of space between our parted mouths. His eyes are connected with mine, so dark despite the pale blue of his irises. Desire has him in a chokehold. Desire for me.

Reaching out, I grab his hips and pull him against me. Feel the power of his arousal straining in his shorts. “I don’t back out of bets.”

The corner of his mouth kicks up. “If that’s what you need to fall back on to let me taste those cocktease lips of yours, take it. I’ll give you a hundred bets if it gets your mouth on mine.”

I open my mouth to respond, but he’s already there, his parted lips pressed against mine, his tongue sweeping inside. On a groan, he presses against me harder, rotating his hips and pushing me flat against the door, and I can’t hold in a whimper. Adam kisses me like he can’t get enough. Like he wants to devour me. Like he owns me. That should turn me off. It should make me want to shove him away and slam the door in his face. It shouldn’t make me want to melt into a puddle at his feet. Shouldn’t make me want to hook my leg over his hip, climb him like a tree, and rub up against him until we both come in our pants like a couple of horny teenagers.

He sucks my bottom lip into his mouth, then trails his lips down, nips at my chin, licks up the column of my neck. “You know how many nights I’ve stayed awake thinking about these lips?” He tugs on one with his teeth. “How many times I’ve stroked my cock to the thought of them?”

I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t ask. I shouldn’t— “How many?” Goddammit.

“Too many.” He closes the space between us again and slants his mouth over mine. His hands cradle my head, his thumbs pressed to my chin, guiding my mouth open even farther so he can take the kiss deeper as he rotates his hips against me.

I’ve been kissed a lot. And I’ve been kissed. The kind that make you breathless and giddy. The kind that make you want to rip your clothes off and fuck right where you stand. So then if I’ve had those kind of kisses before, how can Adam make it feel like he’s the first? Like he’s the only one who’s ever done this to me? The only one who ever could.

 

About Brighton Walsh

Brighton Walsh spent nearly a decade as a professional photographer before deciding to take her storytelling in a different direction and reconnect with her first love: writing. When she’s not pounding away at the keyboard, she’s probably either reading or shopping—maybe even both at once. She lives in the Midwest with her husband and two children, and, yes, she considers forty degrees to be hoodie weather. Her home is the setting for frequent dance parties, Lego battles, and more laughter than she thought possible.

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