99 cent sale! Yours to Keep by Serena Bell

Yours to Keep

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About Yours to Keep:

Ana Travares has been looking over her shoulder her whole life. Her U.S. visa expired when she was a young girl, and if her secret is discovered, she’ll be forced to return to the Dominican Republic. Ana allowed herself to get close to someone once before—and after he broke her heart, she swore never to make the same mistake again. But when a handsome doctor asks for her assistance, she fantasizes about breaking all her rules.

Even though pediatrician Ethan Hansen is a natural when it comes to little kids, as the single father of a teenage son he just can’t seem to get it right . . . except for the Spanish tutor he’s hired for his son, Theo. Ana has managed to crack Theo’s shell—and he isn’t the only one taken with her. The sexy tutor has fired up Ethan with a potent mix of lust and protectiveness. But as he starts to envision a future with Ana, Ethan is devastated to learn the truth about her citizenship. Somehow he’s got to find a way to help her—and hold on to the woman he’s falling hopelessly in love with.

from Yours to Keep:

They walked arm in arm to the car, their hips bumping, the constraint of his jeans maddening. He’d parked on the street under the glare of a streetlight. He opened her door and waited for her to get settled, then slid in on his side. Slammed his door and turned toward her—

She got a hand in his hair and pressed her mouth to his, a flare of heat he felt down to his toes.

He teased her mouth open, felt her tongue flirt with his, then pull back. She caught his lower lip between her teeth, which made him want to get her under him so that he could let her know who was running this show. Instead, he stroked his tongue across hers, a slow, bossy glide that she responded to by arching against him.

He reached for her, touched the curve of her waist, slid his hand up to cup the softness of her breast through the softness of her sweater. Wanted to crawl in and die happy.

He ran his thumb back and forth across her nipple, and she closed her fist around his hair, hard, and whimpered.

Yes.

His other hand found the spot where her sweater met the waistband of her jeans, but before he could slide under she put her hand on top of his. Stopped him.

“Someone might see.”

The car was parked on the street, not far from the brewery. At worst, a roving cop might shine his lights in and send them on their way. To him, the idea of being seen was more titillating than terrifying, but the way she’d said it suggested that she felt otherwise.

“We can’t go back to my place. James is there watching the new Bond movie with Theo. And I know you don’t want to go back to your place. . . .” A hotel was a possibility, but he didn’t want to make her feel cheap.

“No way.”

“So I guess we don’t have a lot of options. But next Saturday—” He could maybe send Theo over to James’s for the night. “Theo will be out. Will you come over? Let me cook for you?”

She was so pretty in the strange shifting light, dim except for swaths of glare that flitted over their faces as cars passed. He reached out and pushed her hair behind her ear, cupped her jaw in his hand. “Can I kiss you again?”

Her eyes were big as she nodded.

He bent and kissed her mouth tenderly, but she seized the back of his head and the kiss was on fire a second later. She moaned, her other hand reaching for his sweater, grasping handfuls of it convulsively.

Want. Now.

It had been years since he’d been this hard or had such vivid fantasies of the precise balance of finesse and force he’d apply to the process of thrusting into a woman.

“Jesus, Ana, you’re so f—so hot.”

“Were you going to say ‘so fucking hot?’” she asked against his mouth.

“Yes.”

“Say it.”

“You’re so fucking hot.”

She made a low, broken noise and kissed him harder. Hotter.

He hated the emergency brake and gearshift with an unholy passion.

She wrenched herself away. “Yes.”

He loved the sound of that word in her mouth. “Yes, what?”

“You asked if I’d come over on Saturday.”

“You’ll let me cook for you?”

“Yes. At the moment, you could cook on me.”

He laughed, put his hand to her cheek, pulled it away when she turned her head and bit his palm.

“I should get home,” she said.

“Let me drive you.”

“You can drop me at the school. I walk home from there all the time.”

It was weird, too weird, but he wasn’t willing to push her any more, not right then.

As they approached her neighborhood, she shifted in her seat, fell silent, and put her hands together in her lap. The neighborhood around Duarte Elementary wasn’t particularly bad, but it was typical of Hawthorne—sodium-arc streetlights illuminating two- and three-family houses on one street, housing projects one block over, vacant lots and lit-up low-rent grocery stories on the avenue running perpendicular. It gave him a better sense of why she held herself back, this contrast with his dreamy Beacon suburbia. Her life must be very, very different from his. And yet how different could it be? At bottom, he felt their sameness like a thread beneath all the contrasts—family, food, their effortless, playful banter, and that goal they were straining toward emotionally and physically, some kind of union that would take them out of the dreariness of both their lives.

“You won’t let me drop you in front of your own building.” It wasn’t a question.

“Nope.”

“Because of your brother?”

She hesitated. “Yeah.”

He was surprised by how much he didn’t like that. By how much he wanted her to offer him the validation of introducing him to her family. But he recognized that as crazy and premature. This was a first date, even if it had taken a long time to get here. There would be time, later, to crave more—more physical contact, a more intimate knowledge of who she was, a deeper look into her secrets, a chance to know her life.

He brought her to the school, as she’d requested, and pulled up along the curb.

He leaned over. She moaned before his mouth even touched hers. Yes, he thought again. She’d be noisy when he finally got her naked.

His erection strained uncomfortably against denim and safety belt.

If he didn’t die from unfulfilled longing before then.

From Yours to Keep by Serena Bell
© Serena Bell
All rights reserved — Loveswept Contemporary Romance

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