I moan, impossibly aroused all over again, brutally aware of the empty spot inside me yet to be filled. He deepens the kiss, and I sink into it, tunnel my hands in the thick, dark strands of his hair, but I can taste the restraint in him, the part of him he’s containing, not yet setting free. And I want it free. “You have to get undressed,” I pant into his mouth, and I have no idea what gets into me, but I reach up and grip his shirt, and yank, fully intending to repeat what he’d done to my blouse. I fail. Nothing happens aside from heat rushing to my cheeks. I look up at Shane, who is stone-faced as I admit, “In my mind that went much differently.”
He stares at me, unreadable, intense, and then I don’t know how it happens but we are both laughing. “Not as you planned, huh?”
“No. But I’m not exactly what anyone would call a seductress.”
“I like you just the way you are.”
“You don’t even know me.”
“But I’m about to.” He seals that sexy promise by dragging my hands to his shoulders and announcing, “Hold on. We’re going inside.” He’s standing by the time the warning is issued, cupping my backside.
He starts walking and I cling to his neck, my legs around his waist, my heels still somehow on my feet, thigh highs the only other thing I am wearing. But it’s not being naked on the outside that has a hot spot in my chest. It’s how oddly naked inside I feel with this man, like he really can see inside me and discover my secrets. It’s guilt that makes me paranoid. I hate the guilt. I hate the bad decisions that have changed my life. No. One bad decision. One stupid, stupid, decision.
Shane stops in the living area, and sets me down on top of a giant tan ottoman, some sort of soft material framed by leather replacing his hands on my bare backside, and one of my shoes comes off. I kick the other one free of my foot and he settles on one knee in front of me, reaching for the buttons on his shirt, his lips curving. “I’ll do it this time.”
My worries fade, amazed that the same person who stirs darker emotions in me manages to make me smile so easily. “I could try again,” I offer.
“Not necessary,” he assures me, and already four buttons down, he reaches behind him, and pulls the shirt over his head, a sprinkle of dark hair over his chest, and delicious muscle ripping as he tosses it on the coffee table behind him.
My gaze immediately lands on the unexpected tattoo on his arm of a lion, with an eagle sitting on its head with its wings spread. I reach out and touch it. “Why a lion and an eagle?” I ask.
His expression tightens, unreadable but hard, and I do not miss the fact that he is not touching me.
“The eagle is knowledge, strength, and leadership. The lion is cunning and vicious. He’ll rip your throat out if you give him the chance.”
I blanch. “Are you the lion or the eagle? Or both?”
He reaches for me, dragging me to the floor in front of him and then turning me to face the ottoman, his big body framing mine, his hands cupping my breasts. “I’m the man who’s wanted to fuck you for hours and it’s time for me to be inside you.”
An onslaught of sensations and emotions overwhelm me, and I decide I’ve hit a nerve with Shane, like he does too easily with me. “You’re the one who won’t get undressed,” I accuse.
He nips my shoulder as if punishing me for seeing too much, and this time it’s harder than when we were outside. “Shane,” I object at the same instant his tongue licks away the sting, his mouth finding my ear.
“Don’t move.” He doesn’t wait for my agreement, lifting off of me, and the truth is, I could turn around but I don’t want to move. I’ve stirred some demon in him the way he has for me, and he is taking us back to the place we were meant to be. Sex. Just sex. He wants it. I want it.
There is movement behind me, the rip of a package that has to be a condom, and almost immediately Shane’s wrapped around me again, his hand on my breast, the other sliding the thick ridge of his erection along my sex. And then he is inside me, burying himself to the hilt and I can’t breathe for the sensations rolling through me.
His mouth finds my ear. “You feel as damn good as I knew you would.” He pulls back then, and I am certain he will pull out, before he finally drives into me again, deep, hard, pleasure spiraling through me.
Now both hands are on my breasts, his body snugly molded to mine, and I swear I lose everything but this moment, and the next. My fingers curl into my palms, the ottoman too wide for me to hold the sides. I arch into the next thrust of his hips and he lifts me until we are both almost upright, me leaning into him. We stay like that a moment not moving, just breathing together, just feeling each other, and then he’s moving again, his fingers sliding to my clit and caressing.
I can’t move. Not at this angle, but I don’t have to wither. He moves for us both, and oh so well. I give myself to it, to him, and just feel. A tight ball is forming in my sex, and somehow my hand is in his, and he’s pressing it between my legs, using it to please me. And somehow he thrusts all the right ways and I’m gone. I’m lost and my head falls forward with the tightening of my body. I come with a fierce quake of my body, my sex spasming around him, and this deep, guttural sound rumbles from his chest, telling me that he’s right there with me.
I have goose bumps all over my skin when I realize it’s over, and we’re just together, unmoving, still holding each other. Shane leans me forward, and I catch myself on my hands. He pulls out and I am instantly awash in emotion that has me spinning around only to find his hands on the cushion on either side of me, his strong arms caging me.
I turn around, and he sits there, staring at me. And he is stone, his expression is unreadable, his jaw set hard. I hold my breath, waiting for something I think he wants to say but has not. “There is nothing about you, or this night, that is uncomplicated or what I expected.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I say, and it’s true. Or maybe it’s not, but this time it’s not an intentional lie. “What are you saying?”
“Think about it. You’ll figure it out. Stay here, I’ll be right back.” And just like that he’s on his feet, pulling up his pants, which he never even took off. I’ve been naked on top of the damn city, and he never even undressed. He turns away and I watch as he crosses toward the fireplace and then disappears down a hallway.
For more information, visit www.lisareneejones.com/damage-control-release
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times and USA Today bestselling author LISA RENEE JONES is the author of the highly acclaimed Inside Out series, which is now in development for a cable television show to be produced by Suzanne Todd (Alice in Wonderland). In addition, her Tall, Dark, and Deadly series and The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series both spent several months on the New York Times and USA Today lists. Since beginning her publishing career in 2007, Lisa has published more than forty books translated around the world. You can sign up for email updates here.
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CONTENTS
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Author’s Note
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
HARD RULES. Copyright © 2016 by Lisa Renee Jones. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.stmartins.com
Cover photographs: man © Vlorel Sima / Shutterstock; chess board © Carlo Fornitano / Shutterstock
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Jones, Lisa Renee, author.
Title: Hard rules / Lisa Renee Jones.
Description: First edition. | New York: St. Martin’s Griffin, 2016. | Series: Dirty money; 1
Identifiers: LCCN 2016002083 | ISBN 978-1-250-08382-1 (trade paperback) | ISBN 978-1-250-08386-9 (e-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Corporations—Corrupt practices—Fiction. | Man-woman relationships—Fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Romance / Contemporary. | GSAFD: Romantic suspense fiction. | Erotic fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3610.O627 H37 2016 | DDC 813/.6—dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2016002083
e-ISBN 9781250083869
Our e-books may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by e-mail at MacmillanSpecialMarket
[email protected] First Edition: August 2016
Lisa Renee Jones, Hard Rules
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