by Layla Hagen
(Lost #2)
Publication date: July 24th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
(Lost #2)
Publication date: July 24th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Synopsis:
**This can be read as a STANDALONE. The second book in the Lost series tells Jessica and Parker’s story.**
All Jessica wants -as a college graduate — is to be a good girl. She landed the job of her dreams at a museum and is trying to eliminate temptations. No more short skirts (when she can help it). No wild parties. And no men.
She particularly excels at that last thing. . .
Until her path crosses Parker’s. Again. Jessica remembers the last time their paths crossed very well. She was left with a seriously bruised ego. She knows it would be best to avoid him altogether. But the charming Brit makes it hard for her to elude his electrifying pull. He is as irresistible as he is captivating.
And enigmatic.
Because underneath the sleek Armani suit and the sweet British accent that makes her crave his touch, Parker isn’t the perfect gentleman everyone thinks he is.
He’s exactly what Jessica doesn’t want, but desperately needs.
A bad, bad boy.
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Excerpt
I decide to use the
dress as an excuse to leave early. To my dismay, Parker is leaning against the
wall farther down the corridor, one or two turns away from the entrance to the
bar. His eyes rest on the stain on my dress for a few seconds and my cheeks
flare up instantly. I'm sure he can see the redness in them even in the dim
light.
"I have to
go," I say. "My dress is soaked."
"I'll drive you
home," he says, walking toward me.
"No, you just got
here. I'm sure you and Dani have lots to talk about." I actually take a
step back, only to hit the wall behind me.
"I'd just drop you
off and return. Are you afraid of being alone with me, Jessica?"
"No . . . it's just
not necessary. I can take a cab."
"What are you
afraid of?" he insists, stepping right in front of me. "That I'll try
to seduce you and take you to bed? Do I really strike you like that kind of
guy?"
Every inch of my body
commands me to say yes. In my experience, men who don't look even half as
godlike as he does are after one thing only. But his humiliating rejection all
those months ago proves he isn't one of them. And nothing I've seen or heard
about him indicated he’s a womanizer. But being so close to him makes it
impossible to think rationally.
I push him away, but
with one swing he grabs both my hands and pins them against the wall above me.
His lips are inches away from mine, the fingers of his free hand tracing the
contour of my lips, leaving a trail of fire behind them. He's so close to me
that I can feel every single hot breath against my lips. He locks eyes with me,
and it's the sight of his blue eyes boring into mine—more than his proximity
and his touch—that sets me on fire, causing an almost unbearable pressure
between my thighs.
He trails his fingers
from my lips down to my chin and then slowly over my neck. I bite my lip when
he presses gently with his thumb on the hollow of my neck, then proceeds with
his torture farther down. His fingers peruse the hem of my neckline, at the
exact point where the soaked fabric of the dress meets my skin, then slip under
the fabric. Just a fraction of an inch.
Not enough to actually
touch my breast.
But more than enough to
send me over the edge.
"Damn you, Parker,
kiss me," I whisper. He doesn't answer, the corner of his lips lifting in
a delicious smile as he removes his hand from my neckline, letting it fall by
his side. His eyes never leave mine. I wait, sucking in my breath, for him to
lean forward and kiss me. After what feels like hours, he finally leans forward
and kisses me.
On my goddamn forehead.
----
AUTHOR BIO
My name is Layla Hagen and I am a New Adult Contemporary Romance author.
I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later.
I write romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world.
And I drink coffee. Lots of it, in case the photo didn’t make it obvious enough
I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later.
I write romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world.
And I drink coffee. Lots of it, in case the photo didn’t make it obvious enough
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