Author: A.C. Land
Series: Bourbon Series #2
Publication date: October 18th 2016
Genres: Romance, Young Adult
Lonna Stuart is proud to be the most beautiful girl most people have ever seen. But on the inside she’s dying. Her mother’s grating comments and her boyfriend’s obsessive control are suffocating her.
There’s only one person who sees the real Lonna.
Son of the infamous Bourbon Butcher, Collin toes an invisible line of perfection; he’s a football prodigy; a hard working employee; and, what Lonna’s boyfriend considers, a retard. A slight stutter keeps Collin back from making too many friends, but he observes better than anyone, and he sees things most people miss. He sees the pain in Lonna’s eyes and the sadness in her frown. When she nearly drowns, Collin’s the only one willing to sacrifice himself to save her.
Inspired by Collin’s overwhelming kindness and drawn to the sheer greatness of him, Lonna begins to pull away from her asphyxiating life. But unbeknownst to both of them, Collin’s father, busy planning an epic escape from prison.
Tucking the clean clothes under my arm, I opened the bathroom door and a wall of steam hit me in the face. Charli was downstairs showing Luke the other guest bedroom, so I hadn’t even thought to knock on the door. It took less than a second for the air to clear and reveal the nearly six-foot goddess leaning over the sink.
A towel wrapped around her middle, folded in tightly beneath her arm. It was all that covered her bare flesh. Lonna pushed a toothbrush around inside her mouth, but as soon as I walked in she stopped. Her eyes narrowed into a scowl I’d come to recognize because she saved it for when I was around.
Spitting into the sink basin, she patted her lips with a hand towel and then turned that frown on me. “You don’t knock? You’re going to be sharing this bathroom with Charli, Collin. What if she’d been in here half-naked?”
The jury was still out, but I was going to go ahead and call it: she was more like seventy-five percent naked.
I opened my mouth, but words wouldn’t come.
The swell of her … breasts were crescent shaped at the top of that towel. Her mile-long legs seemed to appear as if out of nowhere from the bottom.
Electricity coursed through my veins and even though I’d spent the night, unsleeping, on a broken-down couch, and this morning had been what it was, I felt more alive than I ever had. My fingertips twitched with energy. I wanted to touch her.
Why? So she can reject me again?
Ignoring that very rational voice, I stepped into the bathroom and closed the door. Throwing my clothes onto the ground—an act which would have annoyed me under other circumstances—I advanced on her.
Her eyes widened and she stepped back, pinning herself against the counter. “What’re you doing?”
I caught her around the middle and lifted her onto the edge. “Stop,” she whispered.
She locked her fingers behind my neck, palms tight against my skin as she pulled my head down to her—an act which screamed the opposite of stop. “Collin,” she breathed, her voice thick, “I hate you.”
“I know.” My thumbs slid under that cloth and a dozen images surfaced. I remembered the way I’d had her in my arms just last night. She could pretend all she wanted that it hadn’t meant anything and that she didn’t want me, but I had the mental photography to prove she was lying.
My mouth crashed into hers, sucking her tongue between my lips. A rumble vibrated from her throat.
Residing on a cattle farm in Missouri, A. C. loves playing with her rambunctious Jack Russell, Riley, making decorative cakes, taking pictures, drinking pumpkin spice coffee, and hanging out with her nephews.