Consumed by You by Lauren Blakely is now out! This is the 3rd novel in the Fighting Fire series, but can be read as a standalone.
She’s playing with fire…
Dog trainer Cara Bailey wants to find “the one,” but fantasizing about her sexy-as-hell client, firefighter Travis Jansen, is getting in the way. Her only option? Get the confirmed bachelor out of her system-in every position possible-so she can settle down with Mr. Right. Starting right now.
Travis doesn’t do relationships, so no matter how badly he wants the pretty little brunette, he keeps his distance. Until Cara goes and changes the game. She’ll fulfill all of his fantasies if he agrees to walk away when it’s over. But when the wildfire between them blazes out of control, it will consume everything-and everyone-in its path….
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Lauren Blakely writes sexy contemporary romance novels with heat, heart, and humor, and she has had seven books on the New York Times Bestseller list and eleven on the USA Today Bestseller list. Like the heroine in her novel, FAR TOO TEMPTING, she thinks life should be filled with family, laughter, and the kind of love that love songs promise. Lauren lives in California with her husband, children, and dogs. She loves hearing from readers! She also writes for young adults under the name Daisy Whitney.
Excerpt
But tonight, my God, it felt like
anything could happen, and everything should happen. Maybe that’s what years of
longing could do to a woman. She tried to concentrate on her mission—turning
the tables on him, putting one over on the guys and their bet. But that motivation
was growing muted and fuzzy as their bodies collided and he dropped his
forehead against hers.
“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he whispered hotly.
“What have you been thinking?” she asked, the breathiness in her voice betraying how damn much she wanted him.
He didn’t answer right away. In the span of his silence, she imagined he’d give her a sweet line, because even when they were younger, he was a talker in moments like this, always telling her she was hot, he loved touching her, that sort of thing. But it was no rote compliment that fell from his lips.
His answer was simple.
“I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he whispered hotly.
“What have you been thinking?” she asked, the breathiness in her voice betraying how damn much she wanted him.
He didn’t answer right away. In the span of his silence, she imagined he’d give her a sweet line, because even when they were younger, he was a talker in moments like this, always telling her she was hot, he loved touching her, that sort of thing. But it was no rote compliment that fell from his lips.
His answer was simple.
“Red.”
“Red what?”
“I’ve been wondering if red was a
theme for you tonight.
If it extended across your entire wardrobe.”
If it extended across your entire wardrobe.”
She trembled, turning into putty in
his hands at the implication. Damn, a few enticing words, and she was ready to
launch herself at him. “You have some very interesting thoughts, Travis.”
“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” he said in a husky voice, low in her ear, the words sending a burst of tingles down her spine, settling between her legs in a sweet ache.
“Well, you were standing there drinking beer and thinking about my clothes. That’s a little odd,” she said, teasing him.
He yanked her body harder against him. “Did I say I was thinking about your clothes?” He wrenched back to look her in the eyes. His were full of dark intent, as if his filthy thoughts were written on them for her to read. He dipped his head to her neck, his warm breath on her bare skin. She shivered from the closeness, from the connection.
“Then tell me what you were thinking about,” she said.
“All I could do was imagine what you had on underneath this dress,” he said, fingering the slim strap on her shoulder. “And if that was red, too. If you were going to let me find out.”
“Oh, you don’t even know the half of it,” he said in a husky voice, low in her ear, the words sending a burst of tingles down her spine, settling between her legs in a sweet ache.
“Well, you were standing there drinking beer and thinking about my clothes. That’s a little odd,” she said, teasing him.
He yanked her body harder against him. “Did I say I was thinking about your clothes?” He wrenched back to look her in the eyes. His were full of dark intent, as if his filthy thoughts were written on them for her to read. He dipped his head to her neck, his warm breath on her bare skin. She shivered from the closeness, from the connection.
“Then tell me what you were thinking about,” she said.
“All I could do was imagine what you had on underneath this dress,” he said, fingering the slim strap on her shoulder. “And if that was red, too. If you were going to let me find out.”
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