Warning: If a panty-melting alpha male with an irresistible accent and an overwhelming desire to protect the woman he's hellbent on having isn't for you, keep on clicking! Like your book boyfriends devilishly charming with a side of dirty talk? Me too! Grab the batteries, turn off the lights, and enjoy Chasing Charlie.
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Amazon US: http://amzn.to/2bVUScM
Amazon UK: http://amzn.to/2c3mn6f
Charlie de Rossi has spent every summer of her life tending her dad's bar. Raised to be one of the boys, she pulls no punches and takes no shit from any man. She's had to learn the hard way that life isn't about the wine or the roses, but when the new bartender turns out to be a handsome Irish import, everything she thought she knew about life and love is challenged in a single heartbeat.
Far from the only life he's ever known, Liam Fitzpatrick knows he should ignore the wild, intoxicating need that pulses through his veins whenever the boss's daughter is near, but the moment Liam first caught sight of Charlie he knew her sassy mouth and sexy curves were made to be wrapped around his body. After just one night of tending bar together, the magnetism proves too much for either of them to bear and in an uncharacteristic moment of weakness, Charlie breaks every law she has and finds her legs locked around Liam's waist, his lips coaxing her into mouth-watering submission.
Scared to lose her heart again, Charlie tries to avoid the sexy, stubborn Irishman that's hijacked her thoughts, but Liam makes himself damn hard to ignore. One taste of her won't ever be enough to satisfy the hunger she's awakened and he is determined to show her what she's missing. She's holding the key to his forever and he won't ever give up on chasing Charlie.
“I’m not sure how they raise men in your country, but here, you should look a woman in the eye when you speak to her.” Her eyes gleamed with some sort of flirty challenge.
“I apologize,” I growled, discarding the box of bottles at my feet and lunging across the small space between us.
Her hands were in my hair, her thigh hooked around my waist. Now she felt my cock, hard and pounding between us and pressed against the seam of her skirt, the very goddamn place it’d been itching to be all night.
“You’re an Irish bastard,” she said as her teeth nipped at my bottom lip.
My hands clawed at her arse before I hoisted her on my hips and pressed her against the metal shelves behind her.
“Looks like you’ve got a thing for bastards then.”
I nipped at the tender flesh beneath her ear before laving my tongue up the line of her throat. A low whimper fell from her lips and landed a sucker-punch to my balls. My hips worked against her body, my hands roaming her torso and teasing at the neckline of her top.
“Jesus, I want to taste you.” I trailed my tongue across the swell of one breast. Her fingers thrust in my hair as a tremor pulsed through her body. “I want to see what you’re wearing under this hot little skirt.”
I fisted at the tight skirt, desperate to shove my hand beneath her panties and coax that soft, wet pussy to an orgasm with my fingers. And then my tongue. God, how my tongue ached to taste every inch of that perfection. I was going mad with the thoughts of how she would taste.
My hand found its way beneath the elastic of her panties, my fingers soaked instantly by her silky juices. I nearly came in my pants from just a single touch. I slid another finger through her hot lips and circled her clit slowly with my thumb. Breaths shuddered out of her body, her nipples hardening even further. Without a second thought, I pulled the low neckline of her top down, the creamy round flesh of her breast spilling out of the cup of her bra. I tugged the lace out of my way with my teeth, and finally, my lips attached to the dusky pink bud. I drew out the delicate flesh in slow, torturous sucks.
Soft mewls fell past her perfect pink lips as I worked her soft body. I couldn’t wait to hear her come, my name biting past her lips as I pushed her to a mind-blowing orgasm.
“Christ, you feel this good in my hands. I can’t wait to taste this sweet pussy.”
“Irish,” she sighed, her eyes falling closed when I pressed my thumb to the bud of her clit, applying pressure until her nails cut into the skin at my shoulder and her head fell back against a box.
“Name’s Liam, beautiful, and I can’t wait to hear you scream it from the rooftops.”
About the Author
Aria Cole is a thirty-something housewife who once felt bad for reading dirty books late at night, until she decided to write her own. Possessive alpha men and the sassy heroines who love them are common, along with a healthy dose of irresistible insta-love and happily ever afters so sweet your teeth may ache.
Aria's new release BLACK is the first in her modern fairy tale series. For a safe, off-the-charts HOT, and always HEA story that doesn't take a lifetime to read, get lost in an Aria Cole book!
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