Perfect Catch(85)

Bringing Emma into his bedroom seemed inevitable. But he knew Emma Dixon would not stay compartmentalized. Keeping Emma to one part of his life would be like telling a tornado to only tear apart a room instead of taking the whole house. It would never work and he’d be left with a big mess to clean up afterward.

“You’re thinking about it too hard,” Emma told him.

She gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him down for a kiss.

The moment their lips met, as heat and desire and need swirled in him, Nate knew the tornado comparison was exactly right. And that it was futile to try to resist its force.

Nate had been fighting this for months. There had been opportunities before this. He could have had her before this; he knew that. But he’d fought it. Fought against his natural instincts. Fought against his body clamoring for hers whenever she was within a few feet of him. Fought because her brother, his teammate and a damned good guy, would want to kick his ass. Fought because there was no way they could make this more than a night. Or two. Maybe a long weekend.

Now it was happening, in spite of all that, and he couldn’t fight anymore.

He was going to let the tornado sweep him away this one time. For just a moment.

He slanted his mouth on hers, taking over the kiss. One hand still held her head, the other gripped her ass and brought her fully against him. He stroked his tongue deep, tasting her mouth fully, reveling in the feel of her lips against his as she arched closer.

Her hands went from his shirt front to his neck, holding on tight and he backed her up the two inches to the railing, the firm support behind her enough that he could press his hips into hers.

He felt her groan more than heard it and he wanted to see her face, to see how he was affecting her. He held her face in both hands and pulled away.

Her lipstick was smudged, her lips swollen and parted as she breathed fast. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes opened slowly. When she did lift her gaze to his, she definitely looked dazed.

“Holy shit,” she said. “We should have done that a long time ago.”





She’s the one woman who can get his ball back in play…



Protecting His Assets

© 2014 Cari Quinn



Deuces Wild, Book 1

For a while, MLB pitcher Chase “Deuce” Dixon used his bad-boy reputation as a smoke screen to cover up his elbow injury. But plummeting pitching stats don’t lie, so now he’s a free agent, spending the off-season in surgeons’ offices, and considering a post-baseball career in security.

His first night moonlighting as a nightclub bouncer, he’s surprised that the singer on stage is his little sister’s pure, sweet, spitfire of a best friend. And some drunk guy is getting way too personal.

Summer Maitland doesn’t need Chase strong-arming one of the few fans she’s managed to accumulate during the career she keeps secret from her family. And despite her body’s shimmering reaction to his touch, she certainly doesn’t need a self-appointed bodyguard following her around.

Chase has other ideas. If anyone’s going to lay a hand on Summer, it’s going to be him. Now if only he could keep his tongue out of her mouth long enough to keep her safe. And his hands to himself before he scares her off.

Warning: Contains an ace hurler moonlighting as a bouncer moonlighting as a bodyguard, and an angel-voiced chanteuse who’s up for anything he can throw at her—in and out of the bedroom. This one could make you rethink the definition of fastball.



Enjoy the following excerpt for Protecting His Assets:

By the time they arrived at her place, he’d come up with a plan to combat their aloneness for the next hour and a half before they started the trek into the city. He’d nail her shutters or whatever and then he’d stand at her sink and scarf down the ice cream without making eye contact or conversation. That would succinctly convey his disinterest.

Or it might’ve if she hadn’t parked ahead of him in her driveway and rushed inside, declaring she needed to change. Hard to ignore someone who wasn’t paying you any mind.

He dawdled in his SUV, not wanting to spend any longer in her personal space than necessary. In and out—that was his motto. No entanglements, no drama.

When he knew he couldn’t stall any longer, he trudged up the wide plank porch steps to the door, noting the shiny urns full of thriving fall flowers and cheerful half moon welcome mat, and pulled open the screen door. He’d taken two steps inside when Summer bounded downstairs in a tiny ass robe that showed her legs approximately up to her nipples. Maybe even higher.

“What the frig is that?”

Slyly, she held out the object she’d hidden behind her back. “This, my dear Deuce, is a hammer. One uses it to nail…things.”