The Hook Up (volume 1) Anna Jones simply desires complete college and decide this lady lifestyle.

The Hook Up (volume 1) Anna Jones simply desires complete college and decide this lady lifestyle.


The principles: no kissing in the mouth area, no remaining the night time, no informing people, and first and foremost. No dropping crazy

Dropping for superstar quarterback Drew Baylor is definitely not on her behalf accomplish record. Confident and charming, he lives in the limelight and is way too gorgeous for his own good. Only if she could ignore their heated looks preventing considering performing hot and dirty factors with your. Fast correct?

Too terrible he’s invested in producing the lady split every rule.

Sports happens to be best that you Drew. It’s provided your identification, two National Championships, in addition to Heisman.

Exactly what the guy actually desires is actually sensuous however prickly Anna Jones. The lady cutting humor and blatant disregard for his fame converts him in like very little else. But there is one problem: she is sealed your all the way down. Totally.That try until the opportunity encounter causes the hottest intercourse of their resides, combined with probability of things great. Regrettably, Anna desires it to be a hook upwards. Today it is around Drew to lure this lady with an increase of: extra sex, most satisfaction, longer with your. Until she actually is undoubtedly hooked. Its the best thing Drew understands about winning.

**All’s reasonable crazy and soccer. Games on

New Adult/Contemporary relationship with a HEA – suitable for readers 18 and older.Book one in the Game On collection.**

EXCERPT from THE HOOK UP, copyright 2014 Kristen Callihan

And all I’m able to imagine usually the audience is by yourself collectively. Entirely. Ultimately. I can not view your after that. Circuitously. He is the sun, burning brilliant.

“What makes you here?” My personal sound was a wisp of noises when you look at the little space.

Thus is his/her. “i really want you.”

A floor dips beneath myself, their confession taking on continuously atmosphere. Baylor seems equally surprised by his terminology, his sight going large and his awesome lip area parting. But he commits to them with a squaring of his wide arms. “Tell me you do not need me-too, and I also’ll get.”

My lips starts, an assertion to my mouth, he then hits in my situation. It really is hardly an impression, exactly the ideas of their fingers to my shoulder, just as if he’s planning to tips me right back downstairs. This is the tiniest of contact. Nothing really. Yet its every little thing. The little contact burns, ripples outward along my epidermis with lightning smooth intensity, and my breathing hitches.

His do also. An instant look up, and then he searches my face like looking for an affirmation. Whatever he sees must make sure he understands he’s not the only one within because he does not release.

Neither of us says another term. Bloodstream rushes hot and thick through my personal blood vessels, just like the backs of his fingertips skim gradually, oh very gradually, up my supply. Their heartbeat thrums, quick and noticeable just beneath the golden surface of their throat. I do want to lick that place, placed my lips there and blow. Needs your. I would like him so terribly that i want upwards in fires.

A peaceful, pained noises escapes myself as his knuckles drift toward my personal internal supply, only to the side of my bust.

I’m trembling deeper within me, an escalating tremor that spreads outward, until my breathing will come in choppy pants that We combat to regulate.

What am We doing? This can be Drew Baylor. Little good may come for this. I need to end up being powerful. I want to quit this. To walk aside.

I twitch, tilting into their touch, desiring, needing your more.

Their lip area part with a sound, like holding me personally is actually a therapy and a source of problems. Somehow my personal hand settles on their stylish, the bone tissue sound beneath his body. The guy tenses, an obvious clench which has his biceps bunching. The second instant, my personal hands steal under his shirt.

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