TBR reviewer: Amanda
The characters in the story are believable, and the sheltered naivete of Macy's innocence rings true as she lets go of her fears to embrace her new-found freedom. Although Jerrod is divorced with a daughter, at times his character seems younger as he lets Macy into his heart. I enjoyed the fact that although they fell into bed together relatively quickly, they then pulled back from the physical relationship and true intimacy grew as they lived together awaiting the end of Macy's case. They went from insta-lust to a true relationship tested by
time and separation. I also appreciated the way things ended for them and the epilogue was especially sweet.
“So?” Big eyed innocence, slow, alluring drawl. “I’m an adult.”
He shook his head. It was sad, really. He’d built his reputation on his eloquence in the courtroom, but here tonight it seemed he’d already run out of arguments.
She leaned closer and whispered, “Is there some big rule that says you can’t have sex with a
Holy shit! There it was. She was giving him an out, if he wanted to use it.
There weren’t any state statutes forbidding it, provided both parties were over eighteen and capable of giving consent, but she didn’t know that. He could lie and tell her there were
laws against it. It might be enough to discourage her flirtations and allow them to keep things on a more professional basis.
Jerrod stared into her big, dark eyes. He couldn’t lie to her. Hell, he didn’t want
to. “No big rule,” he whispered.
Her lips were right there, inches away, ripe and soft, and—God help him—he bent his head and took what she was offering.
Snaking his hand into the satin curls at the back of her neck, he brought her face up to his and brushed his mouth across her lips. Gently at first, barely touching her, feeling her excited breath mingle with his own.
On stage, the band led off with a classic piece of southern blues. A black female singer with a rich, strong voice began to wail about the treacherous heart of her lover. Feeling the plaintive tones of the song surging through him, he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between
Macy’s yielding lips. She opened to him, and he thrust his tongue inside her warm, wet mouth. Several bold strokes and then he withdrew, his blood racing. He heard her whimper above the music. Lifting his head, he glanced around again. No one was paying the least bit of attention. Though the stage was well lit, this grassy area below lay in shadow.
He lowered his mouth again, pressing little nips along her jaw line, drawing away once more, teasing her with his lips until she put an impatient hand on his thigh. He froze. He glanced down. In the dark, he could barely make out the lighter tones of her skin against the indigo of his jeans. As he began to thrust his tongue inside her warm mouth again, her fingers inched up his thigh and cupped his erection.
A groan rose in his throat, but probably only Macy heard it. Her hand moved shyly over the sensitive bulge, pressing and molding it with her fingers. She squeezed him and put her little tongue into his mouth.
It was apparent she hadn’t kissed many guys. The explorations of her fingers and tongue were awkward and experimental. At nineteen, she probably hadn’t been with a lot of men. He wasn’t complaining, only noticing. But then she reached out and grabbed his free hand and brought it to her breast.
He had a brief impression of soft round flesh, topped with a firm protrusion, before he pulled his hand away. He had to. Things were moving way too fast and this was a public place. But God, yes, he did want to hold those sweet breasts of hers in his hands. And more. It was the “and more” that really worried him.
“Not here,” he said into her ear as he removed her hand from his groin.