Excerpt
Tears threaten to fall,
but I’ll be damned if I’m going to stand here and feel sorry for myself. And
even though Cade’s lecture about getting my life together is screaming in my
brain, I can’t help it. I can’t deal with all this.
I stomp off the dance
floor, stopping to grab a bottle of champagne and one of the cashmere throw
wedding favors.
I’m just rounding the
corner, making my escape, when I hear a voice say, “Hey, Hotass, where you
sneaking off to?”
I stop and spin around,
the sudden movement almost causing me to fall. I grip the bottle tighter. Can’t
spill the champagne. I’m going to need every ounce to drown my sorrows.
The guy grabs my elbow,
keeping me upright.
I stare at his big
hand, then follow his arm up to a broad shoulder and a face so handsome it
makes my heart ache.
“You saved the
champagne,” I tell him. He grins, the smile changing his face from handsome to
devastatingly hot. “You look sorta familiar. Have we met before?”
“Probably in your dreams.”
I touch his light brown
hair, which is flipped up in the front. “You have cute hair.”
“I have a lot of other
cute parts,” he flirts. “Wanna feel them all?”
I chuckle. “You’re
funny. Did you really just call me Hotass?”
“I call ’em as I see
’em.”
I lean back to check
out my ass, which makes me sort of dizzy.
He grabs me again, this
time planting his hands firmly on my hips.
“I bet you’re good in
bed,” I blurt out, imagining those strong hands guiding me on top of him.
“Only one way to find
out,” he says with a smirk.
What is with that
smirk? Is he as fucking hot as I think he is?
“I’m gonna need to be
drunker for that,” I say.
“Way to kill my ego—and
my hard on,” he says seriously.
I lock eyes with him.
“You’re teasing me.”
“Maybe a little.” He
grins again. “So, back to my first question. Where are you sneaking off to?”
“Not sure. Over here
somewhere—away from everyone.”
“Not in the mood to
party?” He grabs the champagne bottle and takes a slug.
“Let’s suffice it to
say I’ve had a rough week. Do you know why I’ve had a bad week?” I ask. I mean,
I’m pretty sure everyone in the world has seen the Ashlyn Roberts sex tape,
despite Cade’s efforts to get it taken down.
“Honestly, no,” he
says.
“Really? Do you not get
on the Internet?”
“Usually I do, just not
this week.”
“Why not this week?” I
hold my hand up in front of his cute face. “Wait, don’t answer that. Just come
with me.”
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. That’s
the problem—with my whole life, really.” I give him a pout and look into his
warm, brown eyes. He has the kind of eyes that make me want to curl up in his
lap and let him pet me.
He touches my nose. “If
you’re leading, Hotass, then I’m following. If only for the view.”
“You can walk next to
me.” I grab his hand, leading him down the path and away from the party.
Suddenly, I realize I’m
holding his hand.
And it feels—good,
natural, warm. He’s a walking contradiction. I can’t decide if that smirk just
makes me one-night stand horny or if I want to keep him.
When we get to a grassy
clearing under a large tree, I say, “This looks like a good spot. Here, you
spread out the blanket. I’ll hold the champagne.”
Once our spot is ready,
he helps me sit down.
“Wow, the view up here
is gorgeous,” I say, looking out over the grounds of the country club that sits
on a cliff in northern California.
“It is,” he says. “You
can see the ocean, the stars, and can still hear the music from the wedding.”
“Here’s to gorgeous
views,” I say, raising the bottle in the air and looking more at him than the
view. With his gorgeous smile, hot body, and pretty face, he’s quite the sexy
package.
I take a gulp of
champagne then pass it to him. He takes a drink and hands it back.
“Sure you haven’t had
enough already?” he asks.
“Oh, no. I’m just
getting started. Tell me why you weren’t on the Internet. You may have been the
only one in the world who didn’t see me at my worst.”
He hands me his phone.
“If you want me to see so bad, why don’t you show me?”
I shake my head. “No! I
don’t want anyone to see! I was naked. Doing things. It’s really embarrassing.”
He glances at my chest,
which is on full display in my sequined bridesmaid gown. “Somehow, I doubt
that. Maybe you could reenact it for me.”
I roll my eyes and pass
him the champagne. “Where are you from anyway?”
“Seattle,” he says.
“And how do you know
the bride and groom?”
“Family friends.”
“You’re cute. Are you
an actor?”
He laughs. “Me? No.”
“Model?”
“Uh, nope.”
“Hmm,” I say, trying to
figure out how a guy this hot could be anything else.
“You’ll never guess,”
he tells me.
“Fireman?”
“I’m an attorney.”
“No way! You’re way too
sexy to be a lawyer!” I blurt out.
“You think I’m sexy?”
“Yes, in fact, tonight
we’re going to have fun. You and me. No names. No baggage. Just fun. I will
call you Sexy and you can call me—”
“Hotass,” he says,
handing me the bottle and giving me a lopsided grin. “Drink, Hotass.”
We goof around, taking
selfies and videos of ourselves drinking and dancing crazily.
“Are you a good guy?” I
ask.
“Never had any
complaints,” he teases. At least, I think he’s teasing. But with the way he
looks, he’s probably not. And I kinda want to test that theory.
I smack him. “I’m not
talking about sex. I mean, at the core, are you the kind of asshole who would
sell our silly pictures and videos to the tabloids?”
“If I were an asshole,
I’d tell you no but do it anyway.”
“True. Lie down and
look at the stars with me.” I push on his chest, which is broad, hard, and
doesn’t budge.
“You add some sugar to
all that bossiness, and I might be more likely to do what you say,” he says.
When he says sugar, I
take another swig, drop flat on my back, and let out a huge sigh. “I fucking
hate sugar.”
“You hate sugar?” he
asks, lying next to me. “Tell me you’re not one of those girls who doesn’t eat
anything sweet.”
“I love sweets but this
guy I used to date wrote a song about me. Said I was like sugar and a
hurricane.”
“Those things don’t
really go together.”
“He thought I was sweet
like sugar but crazy like a hurricane, or something. I don’t know. I thought it
was cute when he sang it for me, but then he told me that our relationship and
the song would help him go more mainstream. It did.”
“Then what happened?”
“He hit it big and
decided he didn’t need me anymore. We’d been together for a year. One night he
kissed me on the forehead and went to get sushi.” I look at Sexy. “Have you
ever kissed the forehead of a girl you didn’t love?”
He shakes his head.
“Nope.”
“Wait. Are you dating
anyone?”
“Me?” He points to
himself and laughs. “Definitely not.”
“Why not? You’re a cute
guy.”
“My long-time girlfriend
and I parted ways about a year ago.”
“Parted ways?”
“When another
anniversary came and went without a proposal, she left.”
“Why?”
“Um, it may have been
because when she asked if I was ever going to propose, I said probably not.”
“Why did you stay with
her for so long if you didn’t want to marry her? You not the marrying type?” I
ask gently.
“No. I definitely want
to get married. Just not to her. We had fun in college, but once she started
working, it was all that mattered to her. I’m all for working hard, but I also
believe in enjoying life.”
“Me too,” I say,
handing him the bottle. “I’m sure the breakup was for the best. There must be
something brighter in your future.” I say it with confidence, as much for him
as for myself. As thrilled as I am for Harper and Maddox, their wedding sort of
depressed me because I’m jealous. That’s what I want. A sexy guy who will love
me no matter what.
And maybe one who will
do me up against the wall.
I sneak a peek at the
sexiness sitting next to me. He’s still looking up at the sky. And, damn, even
his profile is handsome.
And he smells so
freaking good, I want to lick him.
“So, did your guy not
come back with sushi?” he asks, facing me.
“No, he sent me a
breakup text.”
“That must have been a
shock.” He places his hand on top of mine. And there’s something in his
gesture—something in the warmth of his hand—that makes me feel safe. “It was.”
His thumb caresses the
top of my hand—comforting me—for a few seconds before he hands me back the
bottle. “Here, drink. Then keep talking.”
I take a big gulp. “I’m
going to be drunk. Actually, Sexy, I might already be drunk. Anyway, that
breakup was like a year ago. The last few months, I’ve been dating Zach
Ellison.”
“The boy band guy?”
“Yep. He’s the oldest
brother in the Summer Boys. I went on tour with him. We traveled all over the
world together. He had a carnival set up on an estate in England for my
birthday, just because I said I wanted a funnel cake. We escaped from his crazy
fans in Paris on a motorcycle, and he took me to this little macaroon shop,
where we drank wine and learned how to make them. I’ve never had a guy do such
crazy, over-the-top romantic gestures. Then, exactly nine days ago, the
ex-boyfriend, Luke, decided he wanted me back. I said no thanks. Last weekend,
Zach and I were in Vegas when a sex tape of Luke and I found its way to the
Internet. Tonight, Zach broke up with me because”—I start to cry—“I’m ruining
his image.” I sigh dramatically and then spill my guts about my life. “And if
that isn’t bad enough, I’m currently filming a project and I absolutely hate my
costar. Actually, that’s not right. He hates me. He says stuff that sounds
polite, but is really a backhanded slam. When I can’t take it, I tell everyone
that I’m going to my dressing room, but I really sneak out back and get high
just to calm the fuck down. And I’ll eat healthy at craft services and then
sneak in my dressing room and eat crap snacks. And, sometimes, I say I’m going
to workout, but I really drive around and look at houses. I’m a house whore. I
want a house—no, I want a home. I keep leasing places, but none of them are
right. I’m on the beach now, and I hate it. It’s where Luke and I lived, and I
just need to be somewhere else. But I have a lease, and my manager says it’s
expensive, and I can’t just leave. My publicist is a bitch and probably had a
hand in the whole sex tape thing and was probably fucking my ex while we were
still dating. My mom hates me unless she needs money. And, sometimes, I wish I
could leave the house looking like crap. Sometimes I just want to drive
through, get a burger, and not be photographed. And, sometimes, when I tell
someone I work with that I respect their opinion, I’m yelling fuck off to them
in my head. And, sometimes, I just need a hug.”
The next thing I know,
he’s wrapping his arms around me and pulling me into his chest.
Then our lips
meet—slowly, softly, like he’s exploring them.
He kisses my neck.
Gently unbuttons my halter—causing it to fall down and expose my breasts, which
he quickly covers with his mouth.
“I have a question,” I
say, after we’ve had sex twice. “I don’t want this night to end. And since
you’re from Seattle and I’m from L.A., this, us—tonight—it could just be fun,
right? A one-time thing?”
“Absolutely,” he says.
“And since you’re
friends with the bride and groom, I assume they trust you. I’m hoping that
means I can trust you too.”
“You can,” he says
sincerely.
“Good.” I pull him up
off the ground. “It’s still early. Let’s get the hell out of here and go have
some fun.”
Meet Ashlyn & Cash
in this contemporary romance releasing November 24th!
Pre-order NOW
AVAILABLE!
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1YhH5Oj
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NEW COVER for Vegas
Love
Blurb
A sexy celebrity stand
alone romance by USA Today bestselling author, Jillian Dodd.
Hollywood actress,
Ashlyn Roberts, just had the worst week of her life. Her ex released a sex tape
of them and just when she was convinced her current boyfriend was a keeper for
standing by her side, he breaks up with her at a friend’s wedding. She’s
planning to drown her sorrows in booze when she meets a sexy stranger as she’s
leaving the wedding and they end up in Vegas, married.
Cash Crawford is
offered a dream job working with his brother as a junior talent agent. He’ll
put his shiny new law degree to good use and make a bunch of money in the
process. His first task is simple: Keep Ashlyn Roberts out of trouble and don’t
sleep with her.
Which might be kind of
tough, since they definitely consummated their Vegas wedding.
Will this one night
stand end in the quickie divorce they promised each other? Or will they realize
they got lucky in love?
Author Information
Jillian Dodd grew up on
a farm in Nebraska, where she developed a love for Midwestern boys and Nebraska
football. She has drank from a keg in a cornfield, attended the University of
Nebraska, got to pass her candle, and did have a boy ask her to marry him in a
bar. She met her own prince in college, and they have two amazing children, a
Maltese named Sugar Bear, and two Labrador puppies named Camber Lacy and Cali
Lucy. She is the author of the That Boy Trilogy and The Keatyn Chronicles
Series.
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