Steam Level: (Ranked from 1 to 5, as noted by the author): Steam Level 3
The first book in this smoking hot romantic thriller series will leave you breathless. Limited time sale $1.99. “Intense and sexy—a must-read!” -NYT bestselling author Cynthia Eden. Maddox Kinkade manages the impossible for a clandestine agency. Tasked with neutralizing a lethal bioweapon, she must recruit the last person she ever expected to see again: her presumed-dead former lover. Cole Matthews can’t forget or forgive her role in a tragedy that ruined his life, but the threat of a pandemic and the visceral attraction still burning between them is too strong to ignore. Soon they’re set on a deadly collision course with a world-class killer who has a secret that could end everything. The clock is ticking. “An electric combination of swoon-worthy romance and heart-stopping thriller. It’s unputdownable thrill ride!” -NYT bestselling author Lexi Blake
EXCERPT
He kissed her hard, hot and desperate. His mouth was almost brutal on hers, and Maddox melted. Years of loneliness and yearning flared, making a pulse thud between her legs like a heavy heartbeat. Straddling him, she squeezed her legs against his hips. He wedged his hand down between them into her shorts and tugged her thong aside. Anticipation shivered over her skin at the nearness of his fingertips.
He cupped her sex, his thumb rubbing that sweet spot in teasing circles, and a finger slipped inside her.
She arched against him, inviting another stroke, yielding in ways she’d forgotten. Cole had been her first, not her only, but the one who’d made her tremble with want and beg for more.
He nipped her bottom lip, playfully, and sent a second finger deep. Oh God, that felt so incredible, everything inside her tightened into a painful knot, aching for release.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t leave like you wanted?” A ghost of a smile on his lips as his thumb added pressure, making her breath catch and had her clenching helplessly around his fingers. “It’s so late.”
“Smug doesn’t look good on you.”
“Feels pretty damn good.”
He was under her skin, stamped on her soul, branded on her heart. To her shame, she needed him, needed the sweet friction that would leave her a sweaty, sated mess.
Unzipping his jeans, she freed the beautiful, heavy length of him and palmed him. Ran her thumb across the slippery wetness on the tip, driving a guttural groan from him. “Does that feel better than smug?”
He grabbed a fistful of her hair and pressed his mouth to her ear. “Fuck, yeah.”
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