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Title: DEEPER

Author: Jennifer Michael

Cover Designer: Letitia Hasser | RBA Designs http://www.rbadesigns.com

Release Date: July 13, 2017

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AMAZON US | AMAZON UK

  Drink. Drank. Drunk. Hours later, more than a few drinks deep and varying amounts of money lost and won, the three of us stand in the lobby of the main floor of the hotel. Tatum hiccups and then clumsily covers her mouth. Rylan attempts to scare her to force the hiccups away. It doesn’t work, and the two of them just end up in a fit of giggles. “Where’s the room key?” Tatum searches her purse. “I can’t find it.” “I’ll find mine,” Rylan says. She begins to search, but I speak up, “Neither of you needs your room key.” “Oh no, you don’t, mister.” Tatum squints her eyes at me. “You might have defended my honor tonight, but I am not joining your little sex games. I’m going to my own room. Rylan can go where she wants.” “Tatum doesn’t want you, but I do! Your penis is like magic,” Rylan chimes in, her voice echoing throughout the hotel. “I’ll remember you said that tomorrow when your smart mouth comes back, but I’m not trying to arrange a threesome. I upgraded your room when I got here. There is a two-bedroom suite upstairs, waiting for all of us.” Rylan takes Tatum’s elbow and heads for the elevator, but Tatum drags her drunken feet. “Can you just do that? Change our room reservations without us being there?” Tatum pokes me in the chest. “Probably not, but I’m more persuasive than most.” “I bet you are.” She glares at me with drunken eyes and doesn’t even notice that I’ve backed her into the waiting elevator. “What about our bags?” Tatum asks through a hiccup as the doors slide shut. “The hotel staff moved them up to our new room.” Rylan is quiet as we ride, and when the doors open, she and Tatum follow me down the hall and watch as I swipe the card through the lock. Tatum rubs her eyes and sways on her feet. “Where’s my room?” she asks as she trips through the main room. I offer her my arm, which she takes, and I lead her into the second bedroom. She dives headfirst into the bed without even bothering to remove her shoes. Her crazy headband shifts awkwardly on her head. Her breathing deepens, and I return to Rylan in the main room. She stumbles, toeing off her shoes, but keeps removing clothing. Her shirt flies over her head. She shimmies out of her jeans and then turns my way as she struggles to unclasp her bra. “Don’t just stand there! Help me! I want that magic penis, and I want it now.” “Careful, or you might just make a man feel objectified.” “Shut up and touch me.” She finally gets her bra unclasped, and it slides off her body. Her panties are next, but she trips while stepping out of them. Her hair falls into her face, but she doesn’t bother to try to fix it as she kicks the material from her ankles. She’s kind of a mess, which only amplifies as she lies down and attempts to spread her legs my way. “I want you to fuck me right here on the floor.” “You only want it right there, on the floor, because you can’t make it to the bedroom.” “Semantics.” I laugh. I am so not getting laid tonight. No sex in this fancy hotel room. I move forward and lift Rylan. Her arms swing around my neck, and she grumbles into my chest as I walk her to the bedroom, “Oh, shit.” Her nails grip my neck, and she sucks in a deep breath. “Too fast. You’re making my head spin.” “Sorry, Little Bird.” Her skin is flush, her hair is a rumpled mess, and her eyes lazily stare up at me as I place her in the center of the bed. Even unfocused, those hazel eyes burn with nothing but heat. Against my better judgment, my cock gets a little harder. It’s inevitable when she’s naked and looking at me like she is. “I want you, Callen.” She pulls at my shirt. “Not tonight, babe.” “You’re no fun!” She rises from the bed and staggers to the bathroom. “Are you okay?” I ask, afraid that I’ll be cleaning up her vomit in the next few minutes. “I have to pee!” I give her privacy but listen in case she’s actually going to get sick. Water starts to run in the bathroom, and when I look to see what’s going on, I find her standing by the tub, which is rapidly filling with water. “Oh no, you don’t.” I move to grab her by the hips, but it only works against me when she grinds her ass into me. “Have you seen this bathroom? Take a look at this tub!” “Rylan, you’re drunk. The odds of you drowning in that tub are high.” “Come in with me then. I won’t drown if you keep me safe.” I’m not the man to keep anybody safe. She kisses my neck and pulls at my clothing. While I’m distracted, Rylan successfully removes my shirt and gets to work on my jeans. I lean in and taste the skin that taunts me. She moans while I kiss along her throat, and my pants fall to my feet. The hot water filling the tub creates steam around us. Rylan pulls back and licks her lips. “Get in the tub with me.” Her voice is authoritative, but her eyes and lips say, Please. I step out of my jeans and pull my boxer briefs off. “Let’s get in.” The tub is huge and can easily fit the both of us comfortably. I get in first and let the hot water wash over me. She follows and sits between my legs. Her head falls back on my chest, and she lets her eyes close. “Oh, fuck, that’s good,” she mumbles. I can’t help myself. My hands rub against her skin, and Rylan moans. When my cock hardens against her ass, I let out a groan of my own. “I think I’m too drunk to fuck you right now.” I laugh. “You are.” “This feels really good, though. Keep touching me.” My fingers rake up her thigh and then brush against her stomach. I touch up and down her skin, causing the water to ripple and stir. “Where did you grow up?” “Nevada,” I answer her with the truth without even considering a lie. Rylan holds on to the outside of my thighs, and we sink lower into the water. “Why did you leave?” “I don’t think I’m really meant to stay in one place for too long.” “Do you miss it? Home?” “Not in the least. Nevada isn’t my home.” Again, the truth comes, and it feels strange. I have spent the last ten years spinning lies and hiding who I am. “Do you have family?” “No.” I hand her another truth. “Me neither. My family was taken from me years ago.” Her words come out in a faint whisper. “What do you mean?” But nothing, except for silence, stretches between us. I jostle Rylan, and she lets out a soft, little snore. As gently as I can, I stand while making sure she doesn’t sink down into the water. I lift her into my arms, carry her soaking wet body into bed, and then grab two towels to dry us. Once she’s dry, I pull the covers over her before sliding into bed. She cuddles in closer to me when I kiss her forehead, and I close my eyes. I was going to prove I didn’t need the club to get Rylan off, but instead, I think we’ve proven it isn’t just the getting off that we like about one another. That’s a sobering fucking thought.    

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As a child, Jennifer Michael dreamed of being an author. Life and adulting eventually pushed that dream down to a mere fantasy, which was where it stayed for years. Then, through a stroke of luck and a Kindle, she found the indie romance world, and the dream that was long ago deemed unattainable became a reality. Writing fulfills pieces of her she lost long ago. Jennifer writes stories that range from sweet and sultry to dark and daring. Behind her computer, she’s constantly dreaming up where she’ll go, what new characters she’ll meet along the way, and what genre she will concur next. From her house in southwest Florida, she spends far too much time wishing she were at the beach with a good book. She’s an avid reader of fiction, but is a huge fan of gritty stories with deep emotion or dark twisty plot twists. She’s also known to indulge in guilty pleasure television shows. She gets sucked into the world of characters from all mediums. She loves to hear from her readers so make sure to check her out on social media.

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