About the book:
My rating: 4 of 5 stars
This is book #4, in the Redemption series. This book can be read as a standalone novel. For reader understanding and enjoyment, I recommend reading this great series in order.
Jack AKA Rampage is the hottest fighter Penny can see. She sees quote a lot, actually. She sees the real him, the one behind the man everyone thinks he is. She is his greatest friend, and yet she can also be his greatest weakness.
Penny is not sure what to say or do. When it comes to Rampage, she is seriously attracted. She also gets seriously angry. He knows her secret, but can she trust him with her past? The attraction between them is getting so strong, it may cause the spark to ignite.
This story just starts off with such electricity! You feel the powerful pull between the main characters right from the beginning. I loved the humor, the heat, and the banter. This was a great addition to the Redemption series.
***This ARC copy was given in exchange for an honest review by Netgalley and its publishers.
Read a smokin’ hot excerpt from Fighting Attraction!
Jack groans. His hips press into my stomach, his erection a delicious friction between my thighs. I part my legs wider, grind against him, seeking the delicious sensation of rough denim on my throbbing clit.
“Shh. Slow down. I want to enjoy you.” He trails kisses down my neck, over my throat. Shifting to the side, he cups and squeezes my breasts through my bra, his touch solid and strong. I writhe and wriggle, unable to stay still. He is driving me crazy with his touches, making me so wet it’s all I can do not to rip off his clothes and make him give me what I want.
His eyes darken, and he shoves my shirt up over my head, baring me to his heated gaze. “Ah, Pen.”
My hands find his back and smooth over his muscles, feeling them ripple beneath his shirt as he slides one bra strap over my shoulder. His breathing is heavy, his gaze intense as his head dips down to press a soft kiss to my bare skin.
He slides the other strap off, slowly, gently, carefully unwrapping me as if he is teasing himself. I arch my back, offer my breasts for the pleasure of his mouth. Beyond rational thought, I am lost in sensation, a seething, yearning mass of want.
Jack traces his finger along the edge of my bra, leaving a burning trail across my skin. With painful slowness, he eases the cups down, releasing my breasts from their restraint. I gasp when my burning skin comes into contact with the cool air, and my nipples bead so hard they ache.
I want his mouth on me, his lips, and his heat. But he doesn’t oblige. Instead, he traces a finger around my nipple. Around and around until I tangle my hands in his soft hair and pull him down to my breast. “Please.”
“You’re making it very difficult to go slow.” He feathers hot kisses across the curve of one breast, moving down to draw my left nipple between his teeth. I moan as he licks and sucks, nips and bites, while his other hand squeezes and caresses my right breast. My thighs fall open, inviting, and he lowers his hand to my leg and traces his finger slowly along the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.
I have never known lust like this, want so fierce I burn, need so intense I ache. He is a master of manipulation, a purveyor of pleasure. He knows just where to touch and how hard. He knows how to drive me up and take me down, when I can’t take any more and when it isn’t enough. I try not to think about where he gained all that knowledge, the countless women he’s been with, the things he has done to them in his room at the club. I pretend I am the only one he has caressed into a haze of lust, the only one he wants.
I open my eyes to see him watching me, assessing my reaction to his touch. I feel at once stripped bare and treasured by the intensity of his focus. He moves to my other breast, pulling down my bra cup, teasing and torturing my nipple with his mouth. He trails his fingers up my thigh and then cups the curve of my sex, over my wet knickers. I let out a guttural moan and in seconds he’s on top of me, as if I’ve broken his self-control. He kisses me hard, rough, grinds his hips against me as he presses me into the couch. I reach for him, and he grabs my wrists with one hand and pins them over my head. He pushes my knickers aside and strokes a thick finger along my labia while he sucks and bites my nipple until I am writhing and groaning beneath him.
“Please,” I moan. “Please. Please. Please.”
“Tell me what you want.” He buries his face in my neck, bites down on the sensitive skin at the top of my shoulder.
“Sex. I want to have sex. I want you inside me. Now. Take off my clothes.”
ABOUT Sarah Castille:
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