“It’s got a Jill Shalvis/SEP vibe and I had a smile on my face all the way through. Loved every minute.” – Kate Meader, USA Today bestselling author
Nothing But Trouble, an all-new small town romance from USA Today bestselling author Amy Andrews, is available now!
For five years, PA Cecilia Morgan’s entire existence has revolved around playing “left tackle” to former NFL quarterback Wade Carter. She’s so good at her job, the man can’t even buy his own condoms! Well, today she’s giving the Worst-Boss-Ever her notice.
To say CC’s announcement was a bombshell is an insult to bombs. And horribly timed, with his publisher breathing down his neck. Not too many things defy Wade Carter. Well…except his mother. His PA. And the blinking cursor of doom.
Time to call an audible.
CC is gobsmacked. Three months in his small hometown—somewhere devoid of “female distractions,” he says—while he finishes his book, and he’ll cut her loose?! And he thinks a cowboy hat and dimpled smile and she’ll just say yes? Penalty flag.
Wade can’t believe CC and the council arranged busloads of single women to visit their dying town. She never gives up. But three Super Bowl rings prove he’s no quitter, either.
But then their fighting starts to feel a whole lot like foreplay. What’s a quarterback to do when he realizes he might be falling for his left tackle?
Time to throw a Hail Mary.
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“I’m staying and you can’t stop me.”
Of course she couldn’t – it was his freaking island – but it didn’t mean she wasn’t going to keep trying to convince him. “Seriously? What about your work? Don’t you have other ecosystems to ruin?”
He chuckled. Who knew that near naked man chuckling while holding a bunny could be a whole other level of sexy above just plain near naked man holding a bunny. “I have a phone, the internet and a 2 IC. I’m sure we’ll manage for a few weeks.”
“Four weeks. Four.”
This was what she was worried about. What if he tried to constantly hurry them or get them off the island before they’d found homes for all the rabbits? These things took time and the island was a good base to run the re-homing project considering sparsity of nearby shelters.
There were some wildlife carers in the Doak area who had been lined up to take on any kits and their mothers but the nearest shelter was the ABL one in Denver, over a two hour drive away.
The rabbits were all going to have to go to there anyway for neutering – the ABL desexed all their rabbits before re-homing them – but Gus wanted as many of the adoptable rabbits to be allocated to families before they left the island.
“Sorry, sorry, yes.” He held up his hands to placate her. “I was just approximating. Don’t worry, my company can do without me for four weeks. So…” He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m all yours.”
Gus’s gaze was drawn to the movement and the way Rambo’s little twitchy nose was a millimeter or two away from Marshall’s nipple. Annoyed at her apparent weakness where he was concerned, she threw him a glare. She really hadn’t wanted to mention what happened last night but he was leaving her no choice.
“Let me guess. You’re thinking if you stay there’ll be more of what happened last night, right? More…kissing? Maybe a lot more than that?”
He grinned bigger. “It was a pretty amazing kiss.”
Gus wasn’t about to go into the merits of the kiss. They both knew it’d been hotter than a steam bath in the Bijou. She needed to dismiss it, to neutralize it’s power. “So?” She lifted a shoulder. “We have chemistry.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, his gaze intent. “We do.”
“But guess what, Marshall? We’re adults. We don’t have to be slaves to biology. We just say no.”
“No?” He gave her an incredulous look that totally called bullshit on that. “Really?”
“Yes. Really. This isn’t the set of Love Island, Marshall.”
A sexy half laugh slid from his lips. “Well that’s a relief.”
Gus pursed her lips. Right. Of course. Evil Elmer with his sexy rough hands was just like all the other guys who wanted to bag, brag and move on.
“It’s not Sex Island, either.”
He regarded her for long moments, stroking Rambo rhythmically. Gus was pretty sure she could see a little trickle of rabbit drool pooling in the corner of his mouth. Clearly Rambo was also a fan of those big, thick, rough fingers.
“Are you going to tell the bunnies or am I?”
“The bunnies are slaves to biology. They get a pass.”
“What’s the matter, Marshall?” she demanded. “Can’t keep your libido in check for four lousy weeks?”
His cocked eyebrow mocked her a little. “Can you?”
Considering she regularly went months without sex, Gus was crazy confident on that score. “I have a black belt in libido control.”
“Well now,” he murmured. “That is a shame.”
“Is there a reason you’re obfuscating?”
He laughed. “Well clearly to hear you say that word for one.”
“Marshall.” Gus’s patience was hanging by a thread.
“Okay, okay.” He held up his hand in a placatory gesture. “I can control myself for four weeks. Just to clarify, though, this doesn’t involve sex with ourselves, right?”
Gus had not been expecting that question and the image it put in her head took her by storm. She’d already seen his cock, seen the way he cupped himself. How much more exciting would it be to watch that big hand of his sliding up and down, pleasuring himself? Getting himself off.
Gus shut her eyes and tried to erase the picture from her mind. When she opened them again, he was watching her, a broad grin stretched across his face. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
Ignoring his question she threw him a nonchalant look. “You can have as much sex with yourself as you like. Do we have a deal?”
He looked like he was going to continue to find ways to obfuscate some more for a moment but then he sighed and said, “Fine. No kissing. No sex.”
Relief flowed like cool water through her veins as she raised her coffee mug to him in salute. “Thank you.”
About Amy Andrews
Amy is an Aussie author of hot contemporary romance who believes in multiple orgasms, mighty wangs and happily ever afters. She’s been penning them for over twenty years and has 70+ books to her name.
As well as unforgettable characters and great sex you’ll also be treated to some laughs and a dollop of quirk because Amy doesn’t seem to know how to write a book without a bit of both. You might also cry a little because there’s nothing she loves more than a laughy-criey book!
She also loves sunsets and rainbows, unicorns and mermaids, booze and travel. And her home that overlooks the ocean. She may also happen to believe she was a Roman goddess in her past life because its the only thing that explains her adoration for all things Italy.
Connect with Amy
Twitter: @amyandrewsbooks http://bit.ly/2uYHcqQ