Thrust (The Underground, Book 5)

Thrust-Becca_Jameson-500x800

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Reviews:

Ms. Jameson creates a wonderful world contained on one mountain. A fire in the Smokies is nothing compared to the heat in this beautiful love story. The sex is sizzling. The love is a living and breathing emotion. A light and beautiful read with enough spice to entertain. – See more at: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/fireinthesmokiesbook2bybeccajameson.html#.UmRiVBDZgvl
Ms. Jameson creates a wonderful world contained on one mountain. A fire in the Smokies is nothing compared to the heat in this beautiful love story. The sex is sizzling. The love is a living and breathing emotion. A light and beautiful read with enough spice to entertain. – See more at: http://www.coffeetimeromance.com/BookReviews/fireinthesmokiesbook2bybeccajameson.html#.UmRiVBDZgvl
Thrust released October 6, 2016, with Hartwood Publishing.

Blurb:

Alena Dudko’s life has been upside down for a year and a half. First she was abducted and held for six months in Russia, and then she was rescued and went into hiding in the US. She’s done hiding. She’s also done tiptoeing around Ivan Belinsky, pretending she doesn’t want the man in her bed.

Ivan has been responsible for keeping Alena safe for nearly two months. He has spent every minute of that time fighting his attraction toward her. After all, she’s his best friend’s sister, she has no idea Ivan is a Dominant, and she has innocence written on her forehead. She is off limits.

When Alena bares everything—literally—Ivan is forced to face his feelings head on. But nothing changes the fact that the leader of the Russian Mafia is after both them and their friends. The FBI is working frantically to capture Anton Yenin and put an end to the terror, but it’s taking longer than anyone would have hoped.

Alena won’t wait for the threat to be contained. She intends to live her life now. It’s up to Ivan. In? Or out?

Excerpt:

Ivan blinked several times slowly, unable to comprehend what the hell was happening here. It seemed as if he’d fallen into The Twilight Zone. Insanity.

Was Alena Dudko seriously lying naked on his bed begging him to ravage her? He peeked up to find her still there. Not an apparition, then.

Surely he was asleep. Dreaming. The best dream of his life, but still not a real experience.

In fact, he’d had this dream. Dozens of times in the last few months.

No. That wasn’t true. He’d never had this particular dream. He’d never pondered this perfect scene awake or asleep. He’d visualized himself with her, kissing her, groping her, stroking his fingers over her wet heat through her jeans. But she’d never been naked. He hadn’t dared permit himself to let the dream get that far.

Jesus, her body. All that creamy white skin that went with her long, blonde, wavy hair. And fuck him, the curls between her legs were just as blonde. He couldn’t breathe. Her skin looked even paler against his dark navy sheets. She stared up at him with deep, penetrating blue eyes, forcing him to shake himself out of a trance.

Alena Dudko was off limits. She was Mikhail’s sister, and she was unbelievably innocent for a twenty-eight-year-old woman. He hadn’t asked, but he would bet his last dollar she was a virgin.

He shuddered. No way could he kiss her. He wouldn’t be able to stop with that, and then he’d be in over his head.

But he also couldn’t carry her delectable naked body from the room.

Shit.

She was persistent. But she had no idea what she was asking of him—a warm-blooded, dominant male.

The clock was ticking. If he could, he would turn around and leave the room. But that would do a lot of damage. She would be pissed. Probably never forgive him. And not only did they live together in this three-bedroom apartment, but he was frequently her main source of protection when they left the house.

He wanted her to see reason, but hadn’t he been trying that angle since she first walked into the kitchen wearing nothing but that tiny sad excuse for a towel that wouldn’t have had the absorbency to dry off even his legs?

And now? Jesus. Now she had dropped the towel and was currently contaminating his sheets with her scent—floral shampoo and body soap that on another woman would have annoyed him, but on her it smelled like perfection. Every fucking day.

And now that her perfect naked body had lain on his bed, he would never be able to fully rest there again.

Alena had curves. She was tiny and short, but that didn’t keep her from having full breasts, a narrow waist, and flared hips. All things he’d perfectly envisioned for months without her taking off her clothes. Now her nudity would be permanently burned into his mind.

Both a gift and a burden.

Fuck.

He didn’t even have the ability to leave the apartment. No one else was home, and no way in hell would he leave her alone. Ever.

Had he caused this collision of events? Had he paid too much attention to her? Given her the wrong impression? Flirted with her?

Probably all of those things. Or maybe none of them mattered. Maybe she would have been in his room this morning no matter what he’d done in the past.

He was flattered. Hell yes. At least he knew she was attracted to him. Misplaced though her attraction might be.

On a deep breath, he decided the best of his limited options was to give her what she asked for and kiss her. He could keep it chaste. A peck. Nothing more. Uninteresting. Ruin her vision of what it might be like. Send her packing.

He strode forward until he reached her side. “One kiss. Under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You cover your breasts immediately, and you go back to your room and get dressed right after.”

“That’s two conditions. Pick one.”

Damn infuriating woman.

He narrowed his gaze. “Don’t test me, woman. I’m not in the mood.”

She smiled up at him and batted her eyes flirtatiously. Exaggerating the gesture.

She also did nothing to cover her delectable breasts that taunted him with their youthful bounce and pert pink nipples. Not that she was all that young. She was a grown woman. But everything about her screamed innocence and youth.

She leaned forward instead of following his directive, reaching out with one hand to stroke his cheek. He hadn’t shaved that morning, so his beard was rough and scratchy. It didn’t deter her. He wanted to lean into her touch and close his eyes, savor the feel of her small white hand on his jaw.

But he forced himself to remain still until he couldn’t take another second of her touch. And then he grabbed her wrist with one hand.

Before he could stop himself, he pounced forward, shoving her onto her back once more and hauling that hand over her head to pin it to the pillow.

Her mouth fell open on a sharp gasp seconds before he took her lips in a kiss.

Not the kiss he’d intended. Not a chaste peck on the lips. Nothing that could be misunderstood for friendship.

No. Of course not. Ivan angled his head to one side and stroked his tongue across the seam between her lips, demanding entrance.

He had to taste her. If he never got an opportunity like this again, he had to know her flavor.

And he was not disappointed. She tasted minty from her toothpaste with the hint of the syrupy soda she’d taken one sip of.

He needed more. He leaned closer, angling his head to one side to slide his tongue deeper into her mouth.

She met him halfway, her small tentative tongue stroking across his. Her soft lips teased his mouth. When she licked across the edges of his teeth, he stopped breathing. Nothing existed in the world outside of this kiss with the very woman he’d dreamed of possessing for months.

He knew so many things about her. They’d spent countless hours and days together. But this side of her wasn’t something he ever expected to experience.

And then she moaned.

He still held her hand above her head, but she snaked her other palm around to flatten it on his bicep and then squeezed.

Ivan couldn’t think. His world shrank to this one kiss as if it changed the direction the Earth spun. And it might have.

When her fingers snaked up to thread into his hair, he suddenly came to his senses. As if he’d been sucked into a vortex, he released her lips.

While he tried to catch his breath, she blinked at him, licking the seam of her mouth.

Jesus…

Those damn lips.

How the hell did he think he could take a taste of that sweet, bow-shaped mouth and walk away? He’d lost his mind.

A slow smile spread across her face as she eased her hand from his hair down to his shoulder.

Fuck me.