Today we have the gorgeous cover for Ember Leigh’s MAKE ME LOSE! Check it out and be sure to pre-order your copy today!
Title: Make Me Lose
Author: Ember Leigh
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Blitz: July 23rd
About Make Me Lose:
Grayson Daly and I aren’t just rivals. We’re enemies.
Born minutes apart on the same day in the same hospital, our parents thought this meant we were somehow destined to be together. We knew were we just destined to beat each other.
Competition boiled over until junior year, when the cold war turned into an unexpected peace offering. Maybe my hormones allowed me to notice his broad shoulders, stormy gray-blue eyes, and soccer star’s chiseled frame. But after I fell for him…he stomped all over my heart.
Ten years later, I’m at the top of the realty game in Bayshore and Grayson is just a distant memory. Until he shows up from NYC, his ego bigger than a skyscraper, and asks me to sell the house he recently inherited.
It’s easy to say no. Even though I want to climb him like the jungle gyms we used to dangle from in strong arm battles.
But I forgot that Gray doesn’t take no for an answer. And that he isn’t content unless he’s defeating me.
He butts into my evenings on the boat. Ropes me into water skiing battles. Even shows up at the bar and creates a scene when I’m scouting a date to the upcoming Bicentennial Ball.
It’s almost like he’s gunning to win me.
But if he wins, that means I lose.
And I’m not ready to cede victory just yet.
“You can drop me off here.”
“Hazel, I’m seeing this through.” I step up to her door, hoisting her up on my back one last time. “You know I can’t see our friends again and tell them I didn’t drop you off inside your house after your water-skiing injury.”
She grumbles but fishes a key out of her purse. I bend so she can reach the lock. The door swings open, revealing a spacious, two-story great room. Dark wood floors are intermittently covered with slate gray rugs and low, comfy-looking couches. A staircase curves up to the second floor. Everything is as immaculate as a showroom, yet somehow distinctly lived in.
“Nice.” I head to the couch and come to my knees so she can slide off. Once I’m gazing back into those mossy green eyes, I can barely remember what I’m supposed to be doing here.
“What?” she asks.
“Your house. It’s exactly what I would expect.”
Hazel seems to have softened a little. Her lips curl up at the edges. “Thanks, I think.”
I push my palm over the edge of her couch, dangerously close to her knee. She crosses her ankles as she settles back into the cushions. My fingertips brush her skin, and I meet her gaze again.
And damn, if the way she’s looking at me right now isn’t making every inch of my body come to attention. Electricity snaps between us; the air grows taut. I trail my fingers over her kneecap, then trace that sensitive hollow behind. Her breath hitches.
So the unshakeable Hazel can be shaken by Gray, even ten years later.
“What are you trying to do?” she asks, a lazy tone to her voice. Like she’s caught somewhere between a dream and distraction.
My heart hammers as my gaze drifts up the sun-kissed expanse of her thigh. Fingertips sizzling from the contact, I trace a slow, invisible pattern over her knee.
I want to be honest with her. I’m trying to fucking kiss her. To reduce this tension in my chest by a fraction. To see if she’ll let me spend the rest of the evening at her side, getting lost in the past as much as the present.
“You know what I’m trying to do,” I say, enjoying the goosepimples blossoming beneath my touch. She’s never been good at fully convincing me she doesn’t like me. Hazel talks a good game, but I know her weaknesses. The area behind her kneecap might as well be an earlobe. I swipe my middle finger over that dip again, watching as her nostrils flare.
“Taking advantage of the woman you mortally wounded out on the lake?” She lifts a brow, but her gaze is on my hand.
I scoff and move my hand away from her. My skin protests the decision. And apparently she does, too. She moves her knee closer to me. My gaze snags on that scrap of fabric covering her pussy—that sweet heat I’d been lucky enough to know once upon a time.
The ball’s in my court right now. I don’t know what to do with so much power. I wonder if she realizes that she lost. The evidence is her prickled skin. Her flushed chest. Her green eyes boring a hole through me.
“There’s nothing wrong with being nice to my new realtor,” I say. It’s a struggle to hide the evil grin that wants to overtake my face, but I manage. I push away from the couch after summoning every last ounce of willpower. “You good here? Or do you need more help tending your loser wounds?”
And then Hazel cocks her head at me, eyes shrinking to slits.
But I see the things she’s trying to hide the most.
Like the start of a smile on those pretty lips.
About Ember Leigh:
Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides near Lake Erie with her Argentinean husband, where they run an Argentinian-American food truck. In addition to romance novels, Ember also writes travel memoirs and occasionally updates a couple of blogs. In her free time, she practices Ashtanga yoga, hops around the world, and eats lots of vegetables.
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