Who doesn't love a tattooed basketball player in Florence Italy? Well, you can find all this in Sierra Hill's newest standalone sport romance! Sweet Disaster is NOW LIVE! Read an excerpt & download your copy today!
Just to see if I’ve still got it and haven’t lost my touch, I allow my eyes to casually, and oh-so-slowly, drift down Gavin’s torso, stopping at the front of his pants.
Sure enough, my flirty, sexy play made him hard.
Jackpot.
I knew it wasn’t all in my imagination. There is definitely something between us. Some kismet connection that’s grown and expanded the more time we’ve spent in each other’s company these past few days. Whether that’s a good thing, or a bad break, is yet to be determined.
But I’ll tell you one thing. There is nothing I want less than to get involved with a basketball player. No matter how hot he is. Especially one that will remain here in Italy when the time comes for me to leave.
On the other hand, he is sexy and sweet. Nothing’s stopping me from experiencing a white-hot romance while in romantic Florence.
Returning my gaze to his face, I lick the corner of my mouth, making sure my tongue is sending a very clear message.
“Don’t you like gelato?”
“Uh,” he stammers, nearly stumbling over the cobblestone as he opens the gate into the large courtyard of the armory building. “No, it’s not that. I’m allergic to dairy.”
I frown. “What happens? Does your face like swell up like a balloon? Get hives? Go into aphylactic shock or something?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I had a bad experience as a kid and just avoid it now. My stomach is intolerant. But nothing really bad happens.”
I pout. “Well that sucks. I wish you could experience some of this deliciousness.” My eyes sparkle and the corners of my mouth curve as I take another generous lick.
He stares and shakes his head slowly, as if he knows what I’m about to do even before I do it.
Maybe it’s the natural flirt in me. Or it’s because I’m a little turned on, thinking about his big hands and all the colorful tattoos inked over his body. Or it could be the blazing heat from the Florence sun, turning me into a raging inferno of lust knowing he’s interested in me, as evidenced by the generous bulge in his pants.
Whatever it is that spurs me on, I can’t help myself when I lean up onto my tiptoes, throw one arm around his neck and bring my lips to touch his.
He remains stock still, like an enormous mannequin, his arms nailed to his sides, resistant to my kiss. I pull back an inch and peek up through my lashes, finding his eyes shut tight, as if this was a painful proposition. And just when I’m about to say fuck it and walk away, his arm snakes around my waist and he yanks me back into him, covering my mouth with his. Hard.
Oh yes. Everything is hard.
His mouth relaxes and opens for me completely. Gavin’s lips are perfect – warm and full, melding with mine to create sensations that zing down to my toes.
He opens his mouth further, and I use the opportunity it provides for my tongue to lap at his, swirling and sweeping them together so he experiences the flavorful combination that bursts inside my mouth. My tongue is so cold but is instantly warmed with his heat.
The kiss is over much too soon when Gavin grunts and jerks away from me, his gigantic hands gently pushing at my shoulders to make room between us. You’d think he just realized he was kissing his grandmother by the way he puts an end to our connection.
Gavin’s eyes open and lock with mine. He appears both reluctant, yet ready for more. Based on the confusion written on his face, he’s trying to make sense of this. To put it in some sort of box or paint by numbers picture, where the image becomes clearer once you’ve stepped back to get a good look at it.
Gavin speaks first. “Shit,” he mutters, his stance rigid and ready to bolt. “Kady, this isn’t a good idea.”
I stare at him blankly. I can’t even make a joke at his expense because I’m stunned.
Is this rejection? If it is, this is a foreign concept to me because it’s never happened before. His reaction to our very hot kiss is confusing and not what I expected. You’d think I’d made a blood offering to marry the guy, for fuck’s sake.
It was just a kiss. I’ve kissed lots of guys. Even another girl and I’ve liked them all. Kissing is just an extension of emotion. It doesn’t have to mean anything deep or symbolic. It’s not a vow of eternity. It’s simply two people sharing something natural and beautiful.
The kiss with Gavin, though, extends beyond that definition. Initially, I was just being playful and I wanted him to taste the gelato. I wanted to share the flavor and the cold sensation on my tongue.
But now I’m left reeling, my toes still tingling and my body vibrating with excitement from his kiss. Now that he’s put a stop to things, I want more. I can’t help it. It’s like an open bag of chips. You can’t just open it up and eat just one.
Now that I know what Gavin’s kisses can do to me, I want it all.
While I may have instigated the kiss, Gavin’s participation only amplified that desire. And now I have firsthand knowledge that Gavin Lancaster is an extremely good kisser.
I’m still rattled by his kiss when I ask for further explanation.
“What exactly isn’t a good idea, Gavin? The gelato or me?”
He glances away nervously, dropping his arms to his side, two of his fingers anxiously tapping against his leg.
“You know…getting involved. Hooking up.”
I snort out a laugh. “Really, dude? You think because I kissed you that it automatically insinuates I want to hookup? Jesus, Gavin. I was only giving you a taste…of the gelato.”
His eyes narrow, but won’t meet mine now, as he shuffles forward toward the canopied vendor booths lining the courtyard. There are rows and rows of various merchant tents. Some scarves, a lot of purses, bags and other touristy kitschy souvenirs – all colorful and eye-catching. I stalk behind him, stopping to check out a table of silver chains and artful necklaces.
My back is to him when I feel him step behind me – so close I can feel his breath against my neck - and I turn to stare up into his soulful brown eyes. He wears the cutest smile I’ve ever seen on a man, one brow cocked playfully.
“It was good,” he whispers, his hands shoved deep into his shorts pockets.
I return his smile before turning and heading off to the next vendor table.
Yeah, it sure was.
Sure enough, my flirty, sexy play made him hard.
Jackpot.
I knew it wasn’t all in my imagination. There is definitely something between us. Some kismet connection that’s grown and expanded the more time we’ve spent in each other’s company these past few days. Whether that’s a good thing, or a bad break, is yet to be determined.
But I’ll tell you one thing. There is nothing I want less than to get involved with a basketball player. No matter how hot he is. Especially one that will remain here in Italy when the time comes for me to leave.
On the other hand, he is sexy and sweet. Nothing’s stopping me from experiencing a white-hot romance while in romantic Florence.
Returning my gaze to his face, I lick the corner of my mouth, making sure my tongue is sending a very clear message.
“Don’t you like gelato?”
“Uh,” he stammers, nearly stumbling over the cobblestone as he opens the gate into the large courtyard of the armory building. “No, it’s not that. I’m allergic to dairy.”
I frown. “What happens? Does your face like swell up like a balloon? Get hives? Go into aphylactic shock or something?”
“Nah, nothing like that. I had a bad experience as a kid and just avoid it now. My stomach is intolerant. But nothing really bad happens.”
I pout. “Well that sucks. I wish you could experience some of this deliciousness.” My eyes sparkle and the corners of my mouth curve as I take another generous lick.
He stares and shakes his head slowly, as if he knows what I’m about to do even before I do it.
Maybe it’s the natural flirt in me. Or it’s because I’m a little turned on, thinking about his big hands and all the colorful tattoos inked over his body. Or it could be the blazing heat from the Florence sun, turning me into a raging inferno of lust knowing he’s interested in me, as evidenced by the generous bulge in his pants.
Whatever it is that spurs me on, I can’t help myself when I lean up onto my tiptoes, throw one arm around his neck and bring my lips to touch his.
He remains stock still, like an enormous mannequin, his arms nailed to his sides, resistant to my kiss. I pull back an inch and peek up through my lashes, finding his eyes shut tight, as if this was a painful proposition. And just when I’m about to say fuck it and walk away, his arm snakes around my waist and he yanks me back into him, covering my mouth with his. Hard.
Oh yes. Everything is hard.
His mouth relaxes and opens for me completely. Gavin’s lips are perfect – warm and full, melding with mine to create sensations that zing down to my toes.
He opens his mouth further, and I use the opportunity it provides for my tongue to lap at his, swirling and sweeping them together so he experiences the flavorful combination that bursts inside my mouth. My tongue is so cold but is instantly warmed with his heat.
The kiss is over much too soon when Gavin grunts and jerks away from me, his gigantic hands gently pushing at my shoulders to make room between us. You’d think he just realized he was kissing his grandmother by the way he puts an end to our connection.
Gavin’s eyes open and lock with mine. He appears both reluctant, yet ready for more. Based on the confusion written on his face, he’s trying to make sense of this. To put it in some sort of box or paint by numbers picture, where the image becomes clearer once you’ve stepped back to get a good look at it.
Gavin speaks first. “Shit,” he mutters, his stance rigid and ready to bolt. “Kady, this isn’t a good idea.”
I stare at him blankly. I can’t even make a joke at his expense because I’m stunned.
Is this rejection? If it is, this is a foreign concept to me because it’s never happened before. His reaction to our very hot kiss is confusing and not what I expected. You’d think I’d made a blood offering to marry the guy, for fuck’s sake.
It was just a kiss. I’ve kissed lots of guys. Even another girl and I’ve liked them all. Kissing is just an extension of emotion. It doesn’t have to mean anything deep or symbolic. It’s not a vow of eternity. It’s simply two people sharing something natural and beautiful.
The kiss with Gavin, though, extends beyond that definition. Initially, I was just being playful and I wanted him to taste the gelato. I wanted to share the flavor and the cold sensation on my tongue.
But now I’m left reeling, my toes still tingling and my body vibrating with excitement from his kiss. Now that he’s put a stop to things, I want more. I can’t help it. It’s like an open bag of chips. You can’t just open it up and eat just one.
Now that I know what Gavin’s kisses can do to me, I want it all.
While I may have instigated the kiss, Gavin’s participation only amplified that desire. And now I have firsthand knowledge that Gavin Lancaster is an extremely good kisser.
I’m still rattled by his kiss when I ask for further explanation.
“What exactly isn’t a good idea, Gavin? The gelato or me?”
He glances away nervously, dropping his arms to his side, two of his fingers anxiously tapping against his leg.
“You know…getting involved. Hooking up.”
I snort out a laugh. “Really, dude? You think because I kissed you that it automatically insinuates I want to hookup? Jesus, Gavin. I was only giving you a taste…of the gelato.”
His eyes narrow, but won’t meet mine now, as he shuffles forward toward the canopied vendor booths lining the courtyard. There are rows and rows of various merchant tents. Some scarves, a lot of purses, bags and other touristy kitschy souvenirs – all colorful and eye-catching. I stalk behind him, stopping to check out a table of silver chains and artful necklaces.
My back is to him when I feel him step behind me – so close I can feel his breath against my neck - and I turn to stare up into his soulful brown eyes. He wears the cutest smile I’ve ever seen on a man, one brow cocked playfully.
“It was good,” he whispers, his hands shoved deep into his shorts pockets.
I return his smile before turning and heading off to the next vendor table.
Yeah, it sure was.
☆☆☆☆☆☆
MORE ABOUT SWEET DISASTER
Kady:
My life is a complete and utter disaster.
One major screw up after another.
In other words - I’m trouble.
I attempted college, but made a mess of that scene, too. Chalk it up to yet another disappointment in my parents’ ever-growing list of Kady failures.
Deciding I needed an escape from reality, my best friend and I flew off to Europe, where we were going to have the time of our lives.
The only problem with that plan is that I ran out of money after two weeks, and now I’m stuck in Florence, Italy with no means of getting home.
See? Trouble finds me wherever I go.
Gavin:
All I ever wanted to do was play basketball.
It’s all I’m good at.
I bypassed college and went straight to the pros. I’ve been playing overseas in Italy for six months, gaining fame, fans and having fun.
There’s only one problem. I miss home. I’m not too big to admit I’m homesick for my family and friends.
But that all changed when I heard from Cade Griffin, a former college hoops star. He called and asked me to rescue his sister, Kadence, who’s stranded and alone here in Florence.
Seems easy enough, right?
Except for the fact that Kady Griffin is gorgeous, completely off-limits and a sweet disaster waiting to happen all over my life.
SWEET DISASTER is a standalone novel and the fourth in The Sweetest Thing series. It can be read on its own or enjoyed with the other books in the series.
Kady:
My life is a complete and utter disaster.
One major screw up after another.
In other words - I’m trouble.
I attempted college, but made a mess of that scene, too. Chalk it up to yet another disappointment in my parents’ ever-growing list of Kady failures.
Deciding I needed an escape from reality, my best friend and I flew off to Europe, where we were going to have the time of our lives.
The only problem with that plan is that I ran out of money after two weeks, and now I’m stuck in Florence, Italy with no means of getting home.
See? Trouble finds me wherever I go.
Gavin:
All I ever wanted to do was play basketball.
It’s all I’m good at.
I bypassed college and went straight to the pros. I’ve been playing overseas in Italy for six months, gaining fame, fans and having fun.
There’s only one problem. I miss home. I’m not too big to admit I’m homesick for my family and friends.
But that all changed when I heard from Cade Griffin, a former college hoops star. He called and asked me to rescue his sister, Kadence, who’s stranded and alone here in Florence.
Seems easy enough, right?
Except for the fact that Kady Griffin is gorgeous, completely off-limits and a sweet disaster waiting to happen all over my life.
SWEET DISASTER is a standalone novel and the fourth in The Sweetest Thing series. It can be read on its own or enjoyed with the other books in the series.
NOW AVAILABLE!
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☆☆☆☆☆☆
Haven't read this series yet?
Sweetness (Book One) is AVAILABLE for FREE (Limited Time)
Sweetness (Book One) is AVAILABLE for FREE (Limited Time)
I’m the girl from the school of hard knocks.
Nothing has ever come easy for me. So forgive me if I’m a bit reluctant about Kincaid Griffin – born-with-a-silver-spoon in his mouth, conceited college hoops player. A guy who could get any girl he wants, and yet, is suddenly everywhere I am trying to woo me. The more I protest, the more persistent he becomes.
I’m a lucky bastard.
Let’s face it. As a college athlete, I don’t chase girls – they come to me.
I’m as arrogant and cocky as they come, getting nearly everything I want, whenever I want. But there is nothing sweeter than a girl who plays hard to get. And Ainsley Locker is so full of confidence that she knocks me off my feet from the moment I meet her. She’s a challenge. And I like challenges. So I go full-court press to win her over.
But when a stupid mistake turns viral, slam dunking all over my life in a media frenzy, my spot on the team may be in jeopardy, along with my shot at winning the girl.
I’m the girl from the school of hard knocks.
Nothing has ever come easy for me. So forgive me if I’m a bit reluctant about Kincaid Griffin – born-with-a-silver-spoon in his mouth, conceited college hoops player. A guy who could get any girl he wants, and yet, is suddenly everywhere I am trying to woo me. The more I protest, the more persistent he becomes.
I’m a lucky bastard.
Let’s face it. As a college athlete, I don’t chase girls – they come to me.
I’m as arrogant and cocky as they come, getting nearly everything I want, whenever I want. But there is nothing sweeter than a girl who plays hard to get. And Ainsley Locker is so full of confidence that she knocks me off my feet from the moment I meet her. She’s a challenge. And I like challenges. So I go full-court press to win her over.
But when a stupid mistake turns viral, slam dunking all over my life in a media frenzy, my spot on the team may be in jeopardy, along with my shot at winning the girl.
NOW FREE!
Amazon I B&N I KOBO I iBOOKS I
☆☆☆☆☆☆
Since writing and publishing her first book in 2014, Sierra Hill has found her creative passion in writing about the fictional characters that live in her brain, who constantly shout for their love stories to be told.
Sierra frequently indulges in unhealthy doses of reading, too much dark chocolate, and never enough coffee. She often finds herself traveling around the country to see her favorite musicians in concert and is an alternative music enthusiast.
Sierra resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of twenty years and her long-haired, German Shepherd. She is currently working on her next book.
I Amazon Author Page I Facebook I Twitter I Instagram I Website I Newsletter I
Sierra frequently indulges in unhealthy doses of reading, too much dark chocolate, and never enough coffee. She often finds herself traveling around the country to see her favorite musicians in concert and is an alternative music enthusiast.
Sierra resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of twenty years and her long-haired, German Shepherd. She is currently working on her next book.
I Amazon Author Page I Facebook I Twitter I Instagram I Website I Newsletter I
