Sam: I know I’m a jerk. But even knowing what you’ve been through – I’m still not letting you go.

erotic contemporary romanceSam understands that Laurel’s had a shit deal as far as the men in her past go. Shit is an understatement. But that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to let her past interfere with their present.

One night – God help him, that one luscious, mind blowing night – wasn’t going to cut it. He’d need months of her under him before he’d even consider letting her go.

And if he had to get her a therapist to help her get over the crap her shit relative and one high school loser had put her through, he’d do it. But letting her go? That wasn’t going to happen. In this deliciously raw snippet from Hard Love, Sam let’s her know this in no uncertain terms. 


Hard Love is out now. 


“Don’t look at me like that, Laurel. Lemme explain. It’s fucked up what happened to you, baby. Really fucked up. No man should ever rough up a woman. It’s hard for me to hear, and I had nothing to do with it.

“But that was years ago. I’m sorry it happened, it shouldn’t’ve, but it’s got absolutely nothing to do with us making love. And I’ll be damned if I let you associate something so horrible from your past with something so good in our present.”

She stared at him with great, unfriendly eyes. “You’re unbelievable. And we didn’t make love,” she sneered. “We screwed.”

He waved that way. “Why am I unbelievable? I was there, Laurel. I was there laying on top of you, hip deep in your sweet little virgin pussy. I felt you clenching around my dick. I know you came. And you came after I slapped you around.

“You didn’t freeze up, you didn’t say no, or argue. You were there, with me, writhing under me every step of the way.” He grabbed her hand when she would have got up from the bed. She yanked hard, but he didn’t let go.

“Listen to me. You’re just upset because it’s strange. It’s outside your comfort zone, and you probably think as a modern woman this sort of thing is bad, or some shit. But it’s not, Laurel. Nothing we do together in bed is bad if we both want it. And you wanted it. I know you did. I felt it.” He stared at her, trying to see inside her head, but she refused to look at him.

“Look, I know I can be a hand full. I’m an asshole. I admit it. But I’m not a complete fuckin’ prick. I don’t hurt women. I don’t force them to do things they don’t wanna do. That doesn’t get me off. I like my partners to enjoy being with me,” he laughed.

His smile faded quickly, when she still refused to look at him. “I also don’t abandon women. I don’t know the whole story, but it’s pretty obvious your brother fell down on the job. You damn sure don’t have to worry about that with me.”

She snorted softly, but he ignored it.

“Laurel, I wouldn’t push you like this, about this, especially not after hearing that sad ass tale, if I didn’t believe it was okay. I don’t take advantage of women, honey. But you gotta know, sex doesn’t come this good, baby. Not often. Our connection?” He shook his head. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt anything as good as you in my entire life, and I gotta tell ya, I ain’t nowhere near a virgin.

“There is only the slimmest, most superficial resemblance between what happened between us in my bed, and what that asshole Peter put you through. The slimmest, baby. I didn’t feel any resistance in you. None, and I would have. I may be an asshole, but I can say with complete confidence that nothing about hurting women or forcing women, appeals to me. Not unless it’s make believe. In fact, I’ve been known to go in on a motherfucker who’s hurting a woman. Believe that.”

He knew she wanted to argue. He could see it in the stiff lines of her body, but he wasn’t gonna back down. She needed to accept what he was saying. He couldn’t change who he was. He didn’t wanna change, not about this. Why? For some modern day feminist bullshit? Because that’s what this little crisis she was having was all about.

Peter might have something to do with this, but he wasn’t all that was behind this change of heart. For one thing, she’d never slept with the guy. For another, he wasn’t trying to hurt her, and by no stretch of the imagination could she think he was.

She’d creamed his cock the second he got rough with her. The very second. Her response was pure and strong and instinctive, and it made him come so fucking hard, it almost turned him inside out.

He wasn’t about to give that up because some society nonsense was rolling through her brain now. Every silly, uptight, bourgeois attitude she’d absorbed in that little Georgia town of hers was probably screaming, bad! Whore! Retreat! It was bullshit.

He’d get her a therapist if she needed one, but he had a feeling a few good, hard fucks would do just as well, and he meant to give them to her. He didn’t even mind her running. It kinda felt good to chase her, and he didn’t feel bad for liking that either. He was a pervert who’d come to grips with that about himself long ago. She would too, and better they got this bullshit out of the way now. So it wouldn’t detract from their fun.

This shit from her past was tragic. It was fucking horrible. If he ever got his hands on the prick Peter, he’d wish he was dead. And that brother of hers. Hardy. Her parents must have been idiots. Laurel and fucking Hardy. Christ. He was even worse.

Women were to be protected, avenged. To throw your own sister under the bus. Jesus. Sam didn’t have any siblings, but he couldn’t imagine doing that to any woman he gave a passing fuck about, let alone one he was related to.


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