
Asher
Kennedy Thorne is an obsession I can't shake.
One look into those big green eyes, and I'm hooked.
But the two of us are from different worlds.
I'm rough, dirty, and rude, with a past I can't hide.
She's an innocent little angel with big dreams and a bright future ahead of her.
But an angel this sweet was made to be corrupted.
I'd follow her to hell if she asked it of me. I'll give her heaven if she lets me.
Because I don't care what anyone says…she belongs to me.
Kennedy
Asher Reynolds is the perfect storm…big, fierce, and unexpected.
He's also the most beautiful man I've ever seen.
His tattoos tell a story I'm dying to know. So do his eyes.
Everyone treats me like I'm helpless.
Not him. He sees me. He knows me.
And he treats me like I'm his.
But his life is in Nashville, and my future isn't.
Can I really have him and my dreams, or are we destined for heartbreak?
Warning
Two worlds collide when this bossy older man meets his talented younger woman. If instalove, an obsessed tattoo artist, a good girl with big dreams, and a wedding hookup sound like a match made in heaven, you'll adore Asher and Kennedy in this sweet, steamy romance. As always, a sticky sweet, and guaranteed HEA is coming your way.
Excerpt
"Elliot must be here already," Sophie says from the passenger seat when she spots him. She rode with me since she and Trick will be leaving together from here. "He's probably going to try to see me."
She doesn't sound very annoyed by the prospect even though she's the one who wanted to keep to tradition and not see him before the ceremony. I think she's regretting her decision. She misses him, which is adorable because they've been texting all day.
Asher spots her in my car and then his eyes drift to me. He stops pacing and goes incredibly still. For a long moment, we stare at each other through the windshield, neither moving, neither blinking. My heart flutters and races at the intense look on his face. Breathlessness creeps over me.
When it storms on the coast, wind rips through the water, sending waves to crash into and batter the stalwart shoreline. The marriage of fierce strength and stark surrender at the point of impact is breathtaking. Asher reminds me of that moment of impact. Finding beauty in something so fierce is unexpected, but he is so damn beautiful.
The doors of the church swing open behind Asher, shaking him out of immobility. My entire soul quivers with anticipation when he heads in our direction, his feet hitting the sidewalk with determination.
Sophie hops out to meet him. "Is Elliot here already?"
"Yeah, he's inside talking to the preacher," Asher says.
I close my eyes, reveling in the way his voice washes over my senses. It's rough and gritty, like the gravel strewn throughout the parking lot. But it strokes something deep inside me, stoking to life a little fire in my womb.
I take a deep breath, grab my bag, and climb from the car, circling around the hood toward them. Asher's eyes immediately come to me, raking like fire down my body.
"Asher, this is my friend, Kennedy Thorne," Sophie says, introducing us. "Kennedy, this is Elliot's brother, Asher."
My brain screams hello, but I can't seem to make my mouth work to respond. I take a step forward to shake his hand, but like a total dork, I stumble in my heels as if I've never worn them before.
"What the fuck?" Asher growls when my leg peeks out of the slit in my dress. His gaze snaps back to mine, searing me. His piercings are missing today, replaced with clear retainers. "Your dress is torn."
"What?" Sophie spins toward me, giving me a once over. "Where?"
"Her fucking leg is sticking out."
My cheeks heat, my heart slamming against my ribcage. Having him focused on me so completely is doing crazy things to my insides. Why can't I say anything?
"Oh. It's made that way," Sophie says, relaxing again.
"They made her dress with a tear in it?"
"It's not a tear, Asher. It's a slit," Sophie says, biting her lip like she's trying not to laugh.
"It's indecent. I don't like it." He glares at me like it's my fault or something.
"Then I guess it's a good thing it's not up to you, isn't it?" I mutter, scowling at him. He may be hot, but he's rude. The dress is beautiful. It's an A-line off-the-shoulder dress with a ruffle split front and a ribbon-like belt. The light fabric flows to the floor in a sweep train with a slit all the way up to my thigh. It's elegant and daring, but not even close to indecent. I feel feminine and confident in it.
"I'm burning it when I get it off you," he growls, glowering at me.
I gape at him for a moment, too shocked to respond. Who does he think he is, threatening to burn my dress? And he has another think coming if he thinks he'll be involved in getting it off of me after the wedding. He'll be lucky if he survives the wedding at the rate he's going.
"Everyone will be staring at you," he complains. "It's bullshit."
I slam my hands down on my hips, scowling daggers at him.