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Title: Playing with The Drummer (Head over Heels, #3)
Author: Robin Covington
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Length: 236 pages
Release Date: December 29, 2014
Warning: This book contains a sexy, Alpha rock star
who just wants to be left alone and the gorgeous, super talented reporter who
thinks that is the worst idea ever. When they are thrown together and forced to
play nice, the competition begins in the bedroom but ends on the front page. The
author is not responsible for spontaneous combustion of the reader.
Entertainment journalist Lita Matthews is on the
verge of making it big. As in her-own-TV-show big. She just needs amazing inside
scoop on the year’s hottest celebrity wedding. Instead, her big break is
becoming a big nightmare—all thanks to rock star Rocky Cardano. Who apparently
hasn’t gotten over what happened between them four years ago…
BOOK TRAILER
click
They
were still touching, from shoulders down to their thighs, bodies trading warmth
in the slight chill of the night next to the lake. She was close enough to
kiss, close enough for him to caress, and he bit back a groan when he recalled
her curves. She was smooth muscle, silky skin, lush breasts that filled his
palms with their delicious heavy weight. Rocky broke eye contact, taking the
chicken-shit way out for a moment.
He
should move, get up and walk around, but he wasn’t going to do it. The big,
horny bastard who made poor decisions was super-powered by tequila shots. That
guy was like the Hulk, except that poor schmo in the movie couldn’t fuck
without losing control, and when you were green with anger-management issues— that
was a big problem. But Lita loved it when he lost control, and he enjoyed it
when she took everything he had and begged for more.
The
silence between them wasn’t awkward, and it wasn’t empty. The drumbeat of what
they were both contemplating was in time with the pounding of their hearts. His
cock ached, strained against the fly of his jeans; his mouth salivated with the
desire to taste her. Lita’s nipples were tight under the flimsy fabric of her
tank top; they rose and fell like she’d been running. He was waiting for some
sign that she was on board for them to both make a poor drunken decision.
“I’m
really sorry about Mexico…after Mexico,” Lita whispered as she looked up at him
again, her breath warm against his mouth. He licked his lips, disappointed that
he couldn’t taste her there.
“Let’s
not talk about it anymore.”
“Do
you believe me?”
Rocky
sighed slightly, cataloging the hope in her eyes that maybe they could put this
behind them. He reached out a hand, allowing his fingers to trace the arc of
her cheek, the side of her neck, dipping into the hollow of her throat and
coming to rest on the curve of her breast.
The
tension was strung taut between them, but through it all, he realized that he
owed her an answer before this went any further.
“I’m
just tired of fighting about it.”
She
closed her eyes briefly, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of his words or
the effect of his gentle stroke against her flesh.
“That’s
not a great answer,” Lita said, opening her eyes again.
She
studied his face, her eyes processing each assessment she made, every
calculation of pros, cons, and the absolutely insane. Rocky expected her to
pull away, to end this detour and frolic into madness. He needed her to do what
he could not do. He wanted her under him, around him. Wanted her in every way
he’d had her those three days in Mexico, wanted to refresh those living
memories with warm flesh, wet kisses, and pleasure. But he wouldn’t lie to get
it.
“It’s
the best I can do,” he whispered.
“I
know for a fact that isn’t true.”
“You’re
right,” he said as he slid his other arm between them and around her waist. He
tugged her upward, and the movement put her eye-to-eye, mouth-to-mouth with
him. This was without a doubt the dumbest thing he’d ever done, drunk or sober,
but it felt incredible. He’d dreamed about this, woken achy and hard from his
subconscious fantasies that involved Lita, a hammock on the beach, and not a
stitch of clothing in sight. “You are so goddam beautiful.”
She
inhaled quickly, her breath catching before stuttering out. “You’re drunk.”
“Yep.
Enough to tell you what I want.”
“And
what do you want?” Her eyes told him she knew what his answer would be. Her
expression dared him to say it out loud.
He
ran a thumb over her lips, dipping in when she opened, a shiver racking him
when her tongue swirled around the digit. “I want you.”
Lita
shifted, swinging a leg over him until she straddled his waist. On instinct, he
moved his hands, cupping her ass and touching the sweet heaven of bare skin
where her tiny skirt had shifted up. She leaned over him, mouth within kissing
distance, one hand wrapped around his neck and the other around a long hank of
his hair.
“You
don't even like me.”
“I’m
good at pretending.”
She
smiled, her eyes dark, smoky, tinged with mischief and softened by the tequila
buzz. “For how long?”
Rocky
leaned closer, a gentle brush against her lips catching her laughter and then
stopping it altogether with a deep, hot kiss. He sank into her mouth, using his
tongue and his lips to coax her first moan of pleasure. He pulled back, making
sure she saw how very serious he was.
“For
as long as it takes to make you come.”
Amazon: http://amzn.to/1EbeXWH
Barnes
and Noble: http://bit.ly/1GW6Z1k
Amazon
UK: http://amzn.to/13v519l
Robin Covington loves to explore the theme of
fooling around and falling in love in her bestselling books. When she’s not
writing sexy, sizzling romance she’s
collecting tasty man candy pics, indulging
in a little comic book geek love, and obsessing over Dean Winchester. Don't
send chocolate . . . send eye candy!
Twitter: @RobinCovington
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