Black Jack Gentlemen
Release Date: July 7, 2015
Detroit’s expansion pro team has a hot star forward, fresh from the English Premiere League. Thanks to a series of fatal misunderstandings coupled with his famous temper, Declan MacGuire only has one thing left to him—soccer—and he’s determined not to make the same mistakes in his new life stateside.
Emily Keller, an accidental low-level PR flunkie for the team watches as Declan gets sucked into a whirlwind romance with Cassandra Dean, the team’s Queen Bee groupie, trying not to be jealous while the woman maneuvers him into a sickeningly familiar situation.
When things escalate, the team is forced to take sides, and Declan faces the toughest choice of his life.
Her ex-husband held out her keys. Emily grabbed them and made her way inside, slipping out of her shoes and dropping her purse on the hall table. When she turned, she was shocked to find him still in the doorway, hands tucked in his pockets.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” She waved a hand, anger slowly but surely replacing her lust. “It’s your damn house. Come on in. Kiss me. Fuck me. Whatever it is you’ve decided you want to do.”
He stood still, head tilted, giving her a curious, searching look. “Is that what you want me to do, Emily?” His voice, normally low and gravelly and bone-chillingly sexy, had gone flat and neutral. Not shifted into seduction mode as she figured he’d do the second they dropped Michelle off for the night.
She crossed her arms over her wrinkled work blouse. “I don’t know, to be honest. But I’m…shit.” She turned away from him and headed for the kitchen. After a couple glasses of expensively filtered water, she turned, not at all surprised to see him there, taking up more space than should be allotted to one man, in a room he’d once spent so much time in, with her, with them, as a family.
A rogue tear slid down her cheek. In a blink he was there, wiping it away, running his hands up her arms, into her hair, pulling her up so their lips met for the first time in a year, but in such as a way it was as if he’d never left. His mouth was firm, in control as his tongue breached her lips, probing, slowly, questioning how far she wanted to go. Emily’s body lurched into high alert, skin pebbling, scalp prickling, nipples hardening under her utilitarian cotton bra.
Everything about him filled all her senses—the crisp fabric of his bright white shirt under her hands, the soft silkiness of his thick hair between her fingers, the rich, starchy, leathery smell of him in her nose. He kept his hands in her hair. Didn’t roam around, grab her boobs or her ass or anything—just kept them connected via the most mind-blowing, toe-curling kiss in her memory.
He broke it off softly, leaving her gasping and gripping his biceps before snaking her hands up around his neck. She wanted him so badly at that moment—wanted a connection with somebody who knew her, understood her, that she didn’t have explain herself to—it manifested as an actual physical pain in her chest. But he took her arms and pulled them from around his neck, kissed both her cheeks, her nose and her lips once more before taking a step away from her.
She nearly fell over into the space he created between them. Her eyes went straight to his crotch, noting the obvious indication of his desire to take this a step further. And why not? They were consenting, formerly married adults. They knew each others’ buttons and could press them, get off, itch scratched, and move on. At that moment Emily wanted nothing more than for Marcus to scratch her damn itch, two or three times.
Shoving out thoughts of Declan and the sound of her own conscience, she lunged for Marcus, determined to get him undressed and between her thighs as fast as possible. He moved away, running a hand across his lips before reaching down to adjust his zipper. She bit her lip, curious, frustrated, and so horny she could taste it in the back of her throat.
“What?” she said, her voice croaky. “I thought you came in here for a reason.”
“I did,” he said, putting a hand on the counter. “But…we can’t. I can’t.”
“Why not? Run out of Cialis?”
He winced, then smiled. “Ah, Emily, I have missed you, even your smart mouth.”
“Well, let me remind you what I can get up to with my mouth.” She reached for him but he grabbed her wrists and stared at her, pissing her off and turning her on even more.
Other Books in the Series
Man On - Book 1
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/man-on-liz-crowe/1116393757?ean=2940148721949
Red Card - Book 2
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/red-card-liz-crowe/1116477200?ean=2940148443216
Shut Out - Book 3
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/shut-out-liz-crowe/1116911434?ean=2940148385028
About the Author
Amazon best-selling author, mom of three, Realtor, beer blogger, brewery marketing expert, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe is a Kentucky native and graduate of the University of Louisville currently living in Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.
Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction hybrid, “Unconventional Romance. Worth the Risk,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”).
With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.
Don’t ever ask her for anything “like a Budweiser” or risk bodily injury.
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