The MNSSSL excerpt below is unedited so please take note when you are reading. Thank you.
Excerpt:
Cat sticks her head back through the door and calls out, “Love you!” then closes it firmly behind her. “Do I at least get a tiny hint about tonight?”
I take her jacket from her and hold it out, helping her slip her arms through the holes. Grasping her shoulders, I spin her around and let her see my bike waiting in the drive. “Clue number one.”
Cat squeals and does a bounce-like dance. “Are you serious?” She shoots me a quick questioning look, and when I nod, her face becomes a mask of confusion and eagerness. “Did you clear it with Dad first?”
“You think I’m stupid, woman?” I wrap my arms around her slender waist, imagining how it’ll feel having her arms wrapped around mine. And thighs straddling my hips. I glance at the photographers snapping away near the fence, and immediately begin thinking about puppies. “Of course I cleared it with him. As if I could get away with not clearing it between your bodyguards and Star Magazine staked outside your door.”
“Touché,” she says before doing another bounce step. “I’m gonna ride a motorcycle. That’s so badass!”
I chuckle and link our fingers, tugging her forward. “Come on, little badass. Let’s give the paparazzi something worth capturing.”
Her answering smile is so dazzling it nearly steals my breath. Knowing I put it there makes me feel like a freaking king. “Are you trying to get me in trouble, Mr. Cappelli?”
“Always, Miss Crawford,” I reply. “Always.”
With a knowing nod at the bodyguards as we approach my bike, I remove my second helmet from the seat and help her put it on, smoothing back her hair and strapping it. I step back and look at her. Standing beside my bike in curve-hugging denim and leather, the black helmet in place, she does look like a badass. My badass. And she’s never looked hotter.
“Damn I wish I could kiss you right now.” Both the helmet and the prying eyes of the paparazzi keep that from happening, but when I catch her licking her lips in response, I groan and shove on my own helmet. “The quicker we get where we’re going, the better.”
Her eyes light up from behind the visor as I flip it down. I hop on my bike and take her hand, tugging her close. “Swing your leg around and scoot up close.”
Cat does as I say, intuitively grabbing onto my hips, and pulling herself closer. She’s not close enough. She’ll never be close enough, but I take her hands and lace them around my stomach, then grasp her knees and tug them firmly beside mine. She slides an extra inch. The scent of leather and rose mingle in my nose as the heat of her body seeps past the denim. I could get used to this.
I look back to see her face. Her flirty grin says she’s enjoying this as much as I am. “During a turn, you’re gonna lean slightly. When we turn right, look over my right shoulder, and keep your body in line with mine. When we turn left, look left. Got it?”
She lowers her gaze to where my lips are behind the visor and shifts closer. “Look and lean. Got it.” Her voice is a mixture of excitement, fear, and desire. This was an excellent idea.
“One more thing?” I say, waiting for her eyes to flutter back to mine. “Hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”
Cat laughs, and pressed up against me like she is, I feel the vibrations throughout my body. I yank the clutch, press the starter, and feel her jerk behind me as the engine rumbles to life.
“Best Valentine’s Day ever!” she screams in my ear.
And it’s only just begun.
I take her jacket from her and hold it out, helping her slip her arms through the holes. Grasping her shoulders, I spin her around and let her see my bike waiting in the drive. “Clue number one.”
Cat squeals and does a bounce-like dance. “Are you serious?” She shoots me a quick questioning look, and when I nod, her face becomes a mask of confusion and eagerness. “Did you clear it with Dad first?”
“You think I’m stupid, woman?” I wrap my arms around her slender waist, imagining how it’ll feel having her arms wrapped around mine. And thighs straddling my hips. I glance at the photographers snapping away near the fence, and immediately begin thinking about puppies. “Of course I cleared it with him. As if I could get away with not clearing it between your bodyguards and Star Magazine staked outside your door.”
“Touché,” she says before doing another bounce step. “I’m gonna ride a motorcycle. That’s so badass!”
I chuckle and link our fingers, tugging her forward. “Come on, little badass. Let’s give the paparazzi something worth capturing.”
Her answering smile is so dazzling it nearly steals my breath. Knowing I put it there makes me feel like a freaking king. “Are you trying to get me in trouble, Mr. Cappelli?”
“Always, Miss Crawford,” I reply. “Always.”
With a knowing nod at the bodyguards as we approach my bike, I remove my second helmet from the seat and help her put it on, smoothing back her hair and strapping it. I step back and look at her. Standing beside my bike in curve-hugging denim and leather, the black helmet in place, she does look like a badass. My badass. And she’s never looked hotter.
“Damn I wish I could kiss you right now.” Both the helmet and the prying eyes of the paparazzi keep that from happening, but when I catch her licking her lips in response, I groan and shove on my own helmet. “The quicker we get where we’re going, the better.”
Her eyes light up from behind the visor as I flip it down. I hop on my bike and take her hand, tugging her close. “Swing your leg around and scoot up close.”
Cat does as I say, intuitively grabbing onto my hips, and pulling herself closer. She’s not close enough. She’ll never be close enough, but I take her hands and lace them around my stomach, then grasp her knees and tug them firmly beside mine. She slides an extra inch. The scent of leather and rose mingle in my nose as the heat of her body seeps past the denim. I could get used to this.
I look back to see her face. Her flirty grin says she’s enjoying this as much as I am. “During a turn, you’re gonna lean slightly. When we turn right, look over my right shoulder, and keep your body in line with mine. When we turn left, look left. Got it?”
She lowers her gaze to where my lips are behind the visor and shifts closer. “Look and lean. Got it.” Her voice is a mixture of excitement, fear, and desire. This was an excellent idea.
“One more thing?” I say, waiting for her eyes to flutter back to mine. “Hold on tight and enjoy the ride.”
Cat laughs, and pressed up against me like she is, I feel the vibrations throughout my body. I yank the clutch, press the starter, and feel her jerk behind me as the engine rumbles to life.
“Best Valentine’s Day ever!” she screams in my ear.
And it’s only just begun.
About the Author
Rachel Harris grew up in New Orleans, watching soap operas with her grandmother and staying up late sneak reading her mom's favorite romance novels. Now a Cajun cowgirl living in Houston, she still stays up too late reading her favorite romances, only now, she can do so openly. She firmly believes life's problems can be solved with a hot, powdered-sugar-coated beignet or a thick slice of king cake, and that screaming at strangers for cheap, plastic beads is acceptable behavior in certain situations.
She homeschools her two beautiful girls and loves watching reality television with her amazing
husband. She writes young adult, new adult, and adult Fun, Flirty Escapes, and LOVES talking with readers!
Connect with the Author
Twitter https://twitter.com/RachelHarrisBksFacebook https://www.facebook.com/RachelHarrisAuthor
Website http://www.rachelharriswrites.com/blog
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5347676.Rachel_Harris
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