The more the merrier
He’s always saved her. Now she’s going to return the favor…
Gray Duffy never thought he’d end up as the co-lead guitarist of Oblivion, one of the hottest rock bands in the country. Even better? He’s sharing the experience with his best friend, Jazz. Since the day she’d showed up as his family’s new foster kid, Gray has protected her. Loved her. And not just platonically either. After all these years of wanting her in his bed, he still doesn’t know what it would be like to have her mouth on his.
Except for that one time. The time he’d shared her with Nick. The best worst night of his life.
Now they’re living their dream. They’re making music together and spending every waking moment trapped in tight quarters. With success at their fingertips, the time is right for him to finally make his move toward the woman he needs.
He just never figured he would lose control. Or that she would find out.
They’ve loved each other through everything. But what if this time love just isn’t enough?
Curves. So many curves. Jazz was like a living G-clef made out of flesh and flawless diamond-crushed skin. The ruby red tips of her breasts peeked out from beneath the waves of her white-blonde hair. Thanks to the spill of light from the window, he could see that the same flush bloomed between her legs, beyond enticing. It would be so easy to move forward and take. To just drown himself in her until he couldn’t remember anymore why this was wrong.
“Jazz,” Gray breathed, shutting his eyes to block out the torch-light of her beauty in front of him. He couldn’t breathe through his want. Couldn’t think through the haze of his need. And his love.
He fucking loved her, and he’d fight not to do this with every fiber of his being. She deserved more than a strung-out bastard who’d turned to pot because he couldn’t get ahold of more coke. For fuck’s sake, even his dealer wouldn’t return his calls.
Now she was here, and he couldn’t get high enough not to feel each of the knives carving him up inside.
“Gray,” she said, equally soft. He didn’t open his eyes but her voice crept closer. “Look at me.”
“No.” The word burst from him on an exhale. “No.”
Her hand touched his bare chest and he jolted as if she’d set off a stick of dynamite. Her chuckle rubbed over his nerve endings, sandpaper and silk, and he struggled to hold back a shudder. Only the steel beam he’d shoved in his spine held him upright.
“Back when I used to get high, it’d lower my inhibitions,” she continued. “It made me excited. I know it’s supposed to relax you, but it had a different effect on me.”
He focused on each of her words on its own, so he couldn’t take them all together and feel their impact. He couldn’t let her do this. The man she was trying to seduce might’ve been worthy of her a year ago. He hadn’t believed it fully then either but he knew without doubt that he wasn’t now.
“As if you ever had inhibitions,” he muttered, unable to summon the strength to raise his voice. All his blood had rerouted to his cock. All his air was fueling his starving cells. He could only not inhale for so long. But if he did, he’d smell her again, watermelon and sugar, and he’d be finished.
“Oh, you’d be surprised. I’ve wanted you for years. And I haven’t done one damn thing to let you know.” She started circling him, her body brushing against his. Hip to thigh, thigh to ass. Her fingers trailed from his chest to his arm to his back, sensual feathers of sensation that made his balls clench so tight he feared any movement would send him over the edge. “But I will tonight.”
He gritted his teeth. “You can’t. You don’t know me anymore. You don’t understand what you’re getting into.”
That made her stop. Her fingers pressed into his lower back as she processed his words.
Please, make them be enough.
She completed her loop around him and hooked her fingers in the front of his jeans. He groaned at the slide of skin on skin. He heard her inhale before the wisps of her breath kissed his mouth. “So show me.”
USA TODAY bestselling author Cari Quinn wrote her first story–a bible parable–in 2nd grade, much to the delight of the nuns at her Catholic school. Once she saw the warm reception that first tale garnered, she was hooked. She attempted her first romance in junior high, long before she’d ever read one. Writing what she knew always took a backseat to what she wanted to know, and that still holds true today.
Though she also fires up her computer as a graphic designer, proofreader and editor, she can’t resist the lure of disappearing into a world of her own creation. Now she gets to pen sexy romances for a living and routinely counts her lucky stars.
The only thing she loves more than writing is hearing from readers! Please contact her through one of the ways below.
Taryn Elliott comes from the great state of New York—upstate, thank you very much. She’s usually busy making up stories with her best friend until the wee hours of the morning, or fangirling over her favorite TV show. She falls in love with each and every one of her leading men as she writes their book, and there’s always a soundtrack to match.
She loves talking to readers, so if you’d like to reach her, please visit her website: tarynelliott.com and sign up for her newsletter, or drop her a line at: .
