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I shrug, nonchalant. “Don’t get your boxers all twisted up in a bunch. Good things come to those who wait. I promise you that I will make it worth every second.”
Carter lets out an exaggerated sigh and sulks off toward the couch. “Whatever. You’re driving me fucking crazy, woman.”
Heading toward my bedroom to change my panties, I call out, “That may be true, but you can’t get enough of my crazy.”
He grunts in agreement, and I laugh to myself as I enter my bedroom, wondering how long it will take him to grow back his beard. Let the countdown begin.
If you liked Carter and Sydney’s story so far, this is only the beginning. Donovan is available now for pre-order only on Amazon.
PRE-ORDER DONOVAN ON AMAZON
Available May 24, 2017
FACE-OFF SERIES
If you liked Kane, keep reading for a free excerpt of Parker, the first book in the Face-Off series.
Parker is available now!
Read PARKER for FREE with Kindle Unlimited.
Meet Alex Parker, the NHL’s most notorious bad boy both on and off the ice.
As the top defenseman in the league, Alex was on a winning team, so close to the Stanley Cup, before he hooked up with the wrong puck bunny—the team owner’s granddaughter. Oops! So, they sent him packing to Philadelphia to play for the Flyers, one of the worst teams in the league.
His agent wants him to clean up his act. He drinks too much. He sleeps around too much. That’s why his agent assigns Charlotte Coachman, aka Coach, to whip him into shape. Coach is a sexy sports agent that challenges him, makes him want to become a better man, and every time they are around each other, it's as if they're having their own face-off.
After Coach takes him under her wing, Alex wants her all to himself. She has strict rules about dating clients, and he likes breaking them.
PARKER EXCERPT
CHAPTER ONE
ALEX
Most people hate the loud, obnoxious noise a hockey goal horn makes, but I’m not one of those people. Because that means my team has scored and is one step closer to another victory.
But, this morning, the sweet sound I associate with winning wakes me from a drunken sleep, and for the third time this year, I know the person on the other end of the line is calling with bad news. I lift my head from the pillow, one eye open, as I reach for my cell phone on the bedside table.
Except I’m not in my bedroom. This is not my apartment.
Where the hell am I?
I spot a pink fuzzy robe draped over the closet door, reminding me of something a child would wear. A Harry Potter poster is on the wall above a small desk with a computer, a schoolbag slung over the top of the chair. The room is about the size of a dorm room.
No, this can’t be happening.
When I roll onto my back and sit up, I lean against the headboard, my legs too long for the twin-size bed, and see a naked blonde sleeping next to me. Her arm covers her face, so I can’t tell if I chose well before we left the bar last night. The entire evening is a blur.
Please don’t be a dorm room.
She stirs, a sound escaping her lips.
I silence the ringer on my phone and sigh when I see that it’s my agent calling. This is not good. Answering his call will only confirm that my future with the Washington Capitals is over.
I banged the wrong chick—and not the one next to me.
How was I supposed to know that smoking-hot puck bunny was the granddaughter of the wrinkly old fuck in charge of my paycheck?
