Leah Morgan was done with men. After barely surviving a horrendous childhood, and a boyfriend who bailed when things got rough, Leah had given up on love. Then she met him, Hollywood’s new golden boy who suddenly had eyes only for her. She tried to convince herself that one night couldn’t hurt, but after six months, the memories of his mesmerizing gaze and searing touch still invaded her every thought.
Declan James had just one rule when it came to women. Keep it simple, and never linger. That all changed the moment he met Leah. Even across a crowded bar, he could tell she was different. Sweet, with just the right amount of sass, she made him break his golden rule and now he couldn’t walk away.
When casual becomes anything but, and emotions run deep, will Leah and Declan fight their fears, or let old insecurities tear them apart? When Declan’s past comes roaring back in a way neither of them could have expected, will they stand united or be torn apart by the challenges that lie ahead?
It was only supposed to be one night, but only forever will do.
"So, when exactly do I get my
striptease?" I asked.
"Well, that's up to you, Hotshot."
"Hotshot?"
"Yep. Cocky attitude, arrogant disposition,
and sexy as fuck--it's a good nickname."
"All right, so what are your terms,
Leah?"
I fought back the urge to touch her. Stuffing my
hands into my pockets, I paced the room in a vain attempt at keeping myself
from just saying, Fuck it, and pinning her against the wall before she
could lay down any terms or requirements. Because whatever she was about to
say, I was going to agree. She didn't know it, but she had my balls in her
perfect little hands, and I was at her fucking mercy. I both hated and wanted
her at the same time. She made me feel out of control and weak with need. I
couldn't stop the pursuit, and I couldn't walk away.
"I will not be an easy fuck whenever you get
too lazy to find a new bimbo for the evening. I will not allow you in my bed,
wondering where you've been and what kind of sloppy seconds I'm getting,"
she declared.
Then, she said the one thing I never wanted to
hear.
"I want to be exclusive with you--for however
long we decide to do this. I don't care about labels or dates. You don't have
to take me out to dinner, bring me flowers, or buy me anniversary presents. The
only thing I ask is that, for the time we are together, you are mine."
"Yes," I answered immediately, surprising
us both.
"Yes? That's it? No counteroffer? No freak-out
or temper tantrum, Declan?"
"No, Leah, no temper tantrum. Just one
request.”
I joined her on the sofa. My thigh brushed hers,
and I heard her breath falter.
"And what's that, Hotshot?"
"Make it two," I amended. "First,
the same rules apply to you. While we're together, for however long, you're
mine, Leah," I purred against her ear.
Her eyes widened, and her breath became ragged,
giving me a quick sense of satisfaction because I'd broken through her calm and
collected exterior.
"And second?" she asked timidly.
"Don't fucking call me Hotshot."
She visibly relaxed and snorted out a laugh before
saying, "So not happening, Hotshot."
US only
-1 Kindle Fire HD
-3 Print copies of Never Been Ready
International
-5 Ebook copies of Never Been Ready
J.L. Berg is a California native living in the South. She's
married to her high school sweetheart and they have two beautiful girls that
drive them batty on a daily basis. When she's not writing, you can find her
with her nose stuck in a romance book, in a yoga studio or devouring anything
chocolate. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary
Agency, LLC.
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