Callie Harper brings us a sexy firefighter standalone on March 6th!
Meet Sophie and Liam in a first look of ALL OF ME
and be sure to pre-order your copy of this second chance romance TODAY!
Meet Sophie and Liam in a first look of ALL OF ME
and be sure to pre-order your copy of this second chance romance TODAY!
She was there when I knocked, walking toward the door to let me in with a spring in her step. She wore a simple dress, light blue cotton, scooping at her neck and ending at her thighs. Hungry, I watched her hips sway as she led me toward the back of the store.
“Thank you so much again!” She chatted sweetly, telling me how grateful she was, offering me some water. As she passed to fill a glass from the tap, she touched my shoulder. It was brief, but I felt it everywhere. When she knelt down to look at the flooring, she brushed against my side, a strand of her hair falling over my arm. I wanted to curl it around my finger, tug on it, hear her gasp again like she had when I took her mouth.
I touched her, too. Helping her up, I brought my hand to her elbow. Only my touch was firmer, more intense. Her eyes flared at the contact. As I passed by, I brushed my hand along her lower back. I could feel her body sing to my touch, bending toward me with all of her dancer’s grace. Only this didn’t feel rehearsed or polished. This felt raw and primal, the need pulsing between us.
I removed some floor planks, working slowly, prying them off with the utmost care. With enough time and effort I could set it right again. I’d do that for Sophie.
She hopped over to Cuppa Joe and came back with coffee and pastries.
“Here.” She set them down on a countertop. “You need to take a break. You worked a 24-hour shift at the station and now you’re right back working again. You need a chocolate croissant.”
I rose and accepted her offer, savoring the sweet, flaky confection.
“Here, you’ve got some—” She laughed, sweeping her thumb up to the corner of my mouth. I flicked my tongue out where she touched me, lightly catching her and our eyes met. She blushed, stepping back, looking away. But I grabbed her hand before she could bring it down by her side. Wrapping my fingers around her, I grazed the pad of my thumb across the inside of her wrist.
“Your pulse is racing.” I could feel it beneath my finger, the blood surging through her body in response to mine.
“No.” She protested lamely, blushing more and giving a weak tug to her hand.
“Yes, it is.” I backed her a step further against the wall, bringing the wrist that told me all I needed up over her head, pinning it there in my grasp. She shivered, still not meeting my eyes, but not fighting to get away. Ducking my head down, I nuzzled into her hair, below her ear, scenting her. She tipped her head back, sighing, yielding. Down at her neck, I pressed my lips to her soft skin.
“I can feel your pulse.” As I licked it, a soft moan escaped between her parted lips. “Your heart is pounding.”
“Liam,” she pleaded.
“What?” I wouldn’t give her anything until she asked. I wanted to hear her voice, throaty and desperate, asking me to kiss her and so much more. I kept my mouth at her vulnerable throat, blowing softly against the wet skin. She quivered, her breath coming fast. With my free hand, I started drawing it slowly along her side, barely touching her skin, starting at her arm stretched out above her head. Traveling down, I teased along her goosebumps and shivers, down past the swell of her breast, the dip of her waist, to rest at the curve of her hip.
She moaned as I stroked, the gentleness of my touch contrasting with the firm, rough grip I kept on her wrist, trapping her against the wall. Through the thin cotton of her dress her nipples pebbled, taut and stiff. My cock swelled in response, knowing how wet she must be, how quickly I could make her come with my mouth feasting on her.
“What do you want, Sophie?” Close to her ear, I spoke low and hushed as my fingers made their lazy way along her side. Her body answered, but I wanted to hear her confession. “Do you still think about me?”
She panted and paused, but then admitted, “Yes.”
I pressed her wrist harder into the wall. “And now you’ve come back.” Looking down at her nipples, the way she twisted under my grip, I wanted to do unspeakable things to her. I wanted to torment her, see how long I could force her to delay orgasm, make her beg and wish for punishment under my hand so she could request and be granted release. Sophie had made a grave mistake in returning to Naugatuck.
“You shouldn’t have come back.” I grabbed her free wrist and joined it up over her head under my palm. She gasped as I trapped her, her eyes fluttering half-closed for a moment in surrender and pleasure. I brought my fingers teasingly, lightly under the swell of her breasts, lifting them up to display her nipples. Grazing the tips with my thumb, I brought her attention to her own arousal.
“I won’t be gentle with you, Sophie.” I pushed my thigh between her legs, parting them for me. “I’m not the man I was. Now, I want to bring you to your knees.” She made a fevered sound in her throat, arching her back toward me, asking with her body for more contact, intensity, friction. But I wouldn’t give it to her, not yet. I was enjoying her panting underneath me too much, the feel of the desperate need coursing through her, building, making her writhe, urgent sounds escaping her throat. That was what I wanted, needed, would feed on to soothe myself after all those years apart.
“I’m going to make you beg, Sophie.” Dipping down, I sank my mouth into her neck, letting my teeth graze her in a bite. She cried out, head tilted more, offering herself to me to do whatever I wanted.
“I know what you want, Sophie,” I whispered into her ear, low and wicked. “Do you?”
“I—I don’t know,” she panted. “I’m scared.”
“You should be.” Without another word, I broke away, leaving her there even as she strained against me. I leaned down, scooped up my tools and packed in seconds flat. She didn’t even have time to compose herself to speak. I headed out the door before I could do anything else to her.
This time, I’d stopped. Next time, I wouldn’t.
“Thank you so much again!” She chatted sweetly, telling me how grateful she was, offering me some water. As she passed to fill a glass from the tap, she touched my shoulder. It was brief, but I felt it everywhere. When she knelt down to look at the flooring, she brushed against my side, a strand of her hair falling over my arm. I wanted to curl it around my finger, tug on it, hear her gasp again like she had when I took her mouth.
I touched her, too. Helping her up, I brought my hand to her elbow. Only my touch was firmer, more intense. Her eyes flared at the contact. As I passed by, I brushed my hand along her lower back. I could feel her body sing to my touch, bending toward me with all of her dancer’s grace. Only this didn’t feel rehearsed or polished. This felt raw and primal, the need pulsing between us.
I removed some floor planks, working slowly, prying them off with the utmost care. With enough time and effort I could set it right again. I’d do that for Sophie.
She hopped over to Cuppa Joe and came back with coffee and pastries.
“Here.” She set them down on a countertop. “You need to take a break. You worked a 24-hour shift at the station and now you’re right back working again. You need a chocolate croissant.”
I rose and accepted her offer, savoring the sweet, flaky confection.
“Here, you’ve got some—” She laughed, sweeping her thumb up to the corner of my mouth. I flicked my tongue out where she touched me, lightly catching her and our eyes met. She blushed, stepping back, looking away. But I grabbed her hand before she could bring it down by her side. Wrapping my fingers around her, I grazed the pad of my thumb across the inside of her wrist.
“Your pulse is racing.” I could feel it beneath my finger, the blood surging through her body in response to mine.
“No.” She protested lamely, blushing more and giving a weak tug to her hand.
“Yes, it is.” I backed her a step further against the wall, bringing the wrist that told me all I needed up over her head, pinning it there in my grasp. She shivered, still not meeting my eyes, but not fighting to get away. Ducking my head down, I nuzzled into her hair, below her ear, scenting her. She tipped her head back, sighing, yielding. Down at her neck, I pressed my lips to her soft skin.
“I can feel your pulse.” As I licked it, a soft moan escaped between her parted lips. “Your heart is pounding.”
“Liam,” she pleaded.
“What?” I wouldn’t give her anything until she asked. I wanted to hear her voice, throaty and desperate, asking me to kiss her and so much more. I kept my mouth at her vulnerable throat, blowing softly against the wet skin. She quivered, her breath coming fast. With my free hand, I started drawing it slowly along her side, barely touching her skin, starting at her arm stretched out above her head. Traveling down, I teased along her goosebumps and shivers, down past the swell of her breast, the dip of her waist, to rest at the curve of her hip.
She moaned as I stroked, the gentleness of my touch contrasting with the firm, rough grip I kept on her wrist, trapping her against the wall. Through the thin cotton of her dress her nipples pebbled, taut and stiff. My cock swelled in response, knowing how wet she must be, how quickly I could make her come with my mouth feasting on her.
“What do you want, Sophie?” Close to her ear, I spoke low and hushed as my fingers made their lazy way along her side. Her body answered, but I wanted to hear her confession. “Do you still think about me?”
She panted and paused, but then admitted, “Yes.”
I pressed her wrist harder into the wall. “And now you’ve come back.” Looking down at her nipples, the way she twisted under my grip, I wanted to do unspeakable things to her. I wanted to torment her, see how long I could force her to delay orgasm, make her beg and wish for punishment under my hand so she could request and be granted release. Sophie had made a grave mistake in returning to Naugatuck.
“You shouldn’t have come back.” I grabbed her free wrist and joined it up over her head under my palm. She gasped as I trapped her, her eyes fluttering half-closed for a moment in surrender and pleasure. I brought my fingers teasingly, lightly under the swell of her breasts, lifting them up to display her nipples. Grazing the tips with my thumb, I brought her attention to her own arousal.
“I won’t be gentle with you, Sophie.” I pushed my thigh between her legs, parting them for me. “I’m not the man I was. Now, I want to bring you to your knees.” She made a fevered sound in her throat, arching her back toward me, asking with her body for more contact, intensity, friction. But I wouldn’t give it to her, not yet. I was enjoying her panting underneath me too much, the feel of the desperate need coursing through her, building, making her writhe, urgent sounds escaping her throat. That was what I wanted, needed, would feed on to soothe myself after all those years apart.
“I’m going to make you beg, Sophie.” Dipping down, I sank my mouth into her neck, letting my teeth graze her in a bite. She cried out, head tilted more, offering herself to me to do whatever I wanted.
“I know what you want, Sophie,” I whispered into her ear, low and wicked. “Do you?”
“I—I don’t know,” she panted. “I’m scared.”
“You should be.” Without another word, I broke away, leaving her there even as she strained against me. I leaned down, scooped up my tools and packed in seconds flat. She didn’t even have time to compose herself to speak. I headed out the door before I could do anything else to her.
This time, I’d stopped. Next time, I wouldn’t.
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MORE About All Of Me
Seven years is supposed to change the way you feel.
Sophie’s not supposed to still dream about the way Liam touched her or the way they moved together. When she heads back to Naugatuck Island, she assumes Liam doesn’t even live there any more. Whatever he once felt, it has to have grown cold by now.
But Liam’s a firefighter. He knows better than anyone, never underestimate the power of a blaze. Those embers may appear cold, but nothing is ever as it seems.
Those embers? They're just waiting to burst into flames.
Seven years is supposed to change the way you feel.
Sophie’s not supposed to still dream about the way Liam touched her or the way they moved together. When she heads back to Naugatuck Island, she assumes Liam doesn’t even live there any more. Whatever he once felt, it has to have grown cold by now.
But Liam’s a firefighter. He knows better than anyone, never underestimate the power of a blaze. Those embers may appear cold, but nothing is ever as it seems.
Those embers? They're just waiting to burst into flames.
Pre-Order Your Copy Today!!
☆☆☆☆☆☆
☆☆☆☆☆☆
Callie Harper writes hot, fun, page-turning romances. She is powered by coffee, wickedly sexy bad boys, and all things funny, intentional or otherwise. Born on the East Coast where she learned the joys of fast-paced sarcastic banter, she and her family are now kickin’ it in the West Coast sunshine. On any given day there’s a good chance you’ll find Callie outdoors enjoying the gorgeous Bay Area, but if she’s indoors she’ll likely be reading, writing or eating, preferably all at once. She is the author of the Beg For It series and the All In series, both of which feature standalones with crossover characters. To get freebies and hear about new releases and sales, stalk her below!
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