Today we have the release blitz of THE EDGE OF REASON by J. Saman! Check it out and be sure to order your copy today!
Title: THE EDGE OF REASON
Author: J. Saman
Genre: Contemporary Romance
About The Edge of Reason:
I have a certain set of rules I try to live by. Rules that have always served me well. Until now…
Rule one: Don’t have sex with someone you work with.
Rule two: Don’t have sex with your friend’s ex-boyfriend.
Rule three: Don’t have sex with your best friend who also happens to be the same ex-boyfriend of your friend.
Rule four: Don’t ever, under any circumstances, fall in love with your best friend.
I guess it’s safe to say, I officially broke all four of my rules.
Doctor Andrew Albright. Sexy, arrogant, insanely gorgeous, and eternally off-limits.
Not only is he still in love with my friend, his ex, but he’s my rock. My perfect best friend.
The one person I cannot lose under any circumstances.
Especially when my life has a habit of falling apart on a regular basis.
But one mercy kiss later, to save me from an awkward situation, and suddenly everything changes. He flirts relentlessly. Corners me in dark hallways. Throws me panty-melting stares that render me helpless.
I crossed the uncrossable line. Broke every damn rule.
Now our perfect friendship is falling apart.
And he’s doing everything he can to keep it that way…
THE EDGE OF REASON is a funny, sexy, and emotional best friends to lovers, STANDALONE romance.
Grab your copy today!
“You know I really did consider tonight a date, right?” I say, as we stand outside waiting for the valet to come and deliver my car for us.
We skipped dessert and if she were her usual Margot self, she’d have called me out on that. Dragged me down the street to all the famous pastry shops here on Hanover Street and demanded a cannoli or some gelato that we would have shared. She didn’t, and I have to wonder if it’s because she’s desperate to be rid of me. She finally twists to face me, maybe surprised by the sound of my voice after so much silence. Her eyes peek up at me from beneath her lashes. Then she frowns. Too goddamn bad.
“That night I came to your house and nearly kissed you on your couch, without the provocation of pissing off your ex, was the night everything sort of fell into place for me.”
“I’d appreciate it if you’d shut the fuck up now.”
I grab her by her upper arm, practically lifting her up and off the ground as I drag her over to an alleyway alongside the restaurant. Her lips part, a startled gasp strangles in the back of her throat as I press her body against the rough bricks and slam my mouth down on hers.
Why? I have no clue. I don’t even know how I got here. There was no thought behind it. No, I have to kiss Margot, or I want to really mess up everything I was just trying to not so cautiously build. It just happened and now I’m here. With my lips on Margot’s. I can taste the earthy sweetness of the wine and the fiery bite of her spicy dinner. Feel the heat of her enraged body against mine as she hate kisses me back.
It’s absolutely perfect.
She licks my lips, and I don’t waste time over-thinking, or even thinking at all. I dive in as her mouth opens wider, inviting me in to ruin her for good. My tongue sweeps against hers, gliding and pressing and commanding.
Last time, I only got a tease. A gentle brush of her sweet mouth. Not this time. This time I plunder the depths of her, my tongue dancing with hers. Taking. Coaxing. Fighting. Our mouths move together with such passion you’d think we’ve been doing this together forever. Our lips move, sliding together, perfect counterparts in a play we’ve already mastered. She bites my bottom lip angrily, and I bite hers back, sucking it into my mouth to ease the sting before I follow that move up with her tongue. Her fingers rake through my hair hungrily, angrily, tugging painfully on the ends, and I growl into her, getting the most perfect whimper in return.
We’re ripping and tearing and pulling and biting.
I’ve never hate kissed a woman. It’s hotter than I expected it would be. Or maybe it’s just her. Maybe it’s her bitterness and desire and brutal rage driving me forward. Matching my own.
My hand sweeps down her back, stopping on the crest just above her ass and I tug her in deeper, harder, into my cock that’s straining against my worn locker room jeans. The move says, ‘Feel that? It’s all for you.’ This shirt she had under her scrub top today is thin and small and gave me the most sinful cast of her full tits every time I looked. And now? Now her pebbled nipples scrape my chest, needy, hungry, begging for my mouth to bite and tug on them until she cries out for me. I growl again, wanting to rip off her shirt and take each one in my mouth in turn.
This would be the moment to pull back. To stop this.
But I don’t.
I want, no I need, so much more. Whatever I was just thinking about lines and friends and space is gone. I can’t find it anywhere and I’m searching for it. I swear to God, I am. I know this is insane. I know it’s stupid and reckless. I know I’m playing with the most dangerous and explosive fire on the planet. I. Know. This. But I also know a kiss has never made me feel this alive in my entire life.
Margot’s arms cling to my shoulders as she raises up to her tiptoes for a better angle. It’s not enough. She’s short and I’m tall, so I lift her up, her feet dangling above the pavement and mercifully, she doesn’t wrap her legs around me. Because if she did, I’d likely fuck her right here and now in this alley for all passersby to witness.
A car horn blares and something about the sound snaps me back to reality with a cold hard slap. Only, that really happened. I set Margot down, my eyes opening wide as I step back.
“Shit,” she cries out, her eyes flaring and stunned before they narrow in on me. “What the hell was that?” The heat and sting of her smacking my face crawls up my skin.
“You slapped me?” I’m incredulous. Or really, I’m just feigning incredulous because I don’t have an answer for her.
“I slapped you.”
“You could have just pushed me away or asked me to stop. You kissed me back.”
She ignores that. “What’s with all the kissing?”
I shake my head. “I don’t know. I told you. I want more. I want you.”
About The Author
J. Saman loves all types of novels, but finds herself always going back to writing/reading romances. She’s addicted to Diet Coke and sour candy, and swears way too much. She’s an admitted lover of picking at old wounds, second chance romances, love triangles and the perfect amount of angst . She writes smart, strong women and sexy alpha (slightly nerdy) men who have a softer side.