Morrison on my Mind
The Heart Falls Heroes
K. D. Friedrich
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Liquid Silver Books
Date of Publication: 6/27/16
Number of pages: 207
Word Count: 67800
What does a guy do when the girl he's crazy about just wants him for his body? He takes the sexy deal with a secret plan to win her heart. Morrison on My Mind offers the perfect blend of romance and fun, a spicy tale about taking chances and finding love.
Cat Cross has had it with relationships. Her ex-fiancé destroyed her childish dreams of happily ever after when she caught him banging a high-society tramp in their bed. She should have known. Men are only good for one thing, and that’s not opening jars. Determined to keep her sex life casual, she refuses to mix emotion with physical pleasure. No man is worth the risk of another broken heart. Not even the hotter than hell fireman Stan Morrison.
For months, Cat has resisted Stan’s sexy charm and good looks. He’s a temptation she can’t afford to entertain. But after a few drinks and one night of incredible sex, she’s agreed to an exclusive friends-with-benefits agreement with the one man able to set fire to her frozen heart.
Stan’s had his fill of casual sex. He’s ready to settle down, and there’s no better place to take root than his hometown of Heart Falls. Unfortunately, the girl he has his sights on would rather leap into a fiery pit than be tied to any one man. Knowing she’s hesitant to consent to anything permanent, he agrees to her non-relationship contract, planning to convince her he’s worth the risk.
With their sexual agreement set, Cat is confident she’ll be able to satisfy her libido while keeping her emotions in check. Stan is determined to pleasure her body and win her heart. Love was never part of the deal and is strictly against the rules. But as everyone knows, rules were meant to be broken, and Stan intends to rip apart every last one of them.
Stan, a man known to make a stripper flush, suffered more hot flashes in Cat’s company than a three-alarm fire.
An enigma wrapped in a body made for sin, Cat kept her past, even some of her present, a mystery. Her personal exposure went no further than a snarky attitude with a fun-girl exterior.
Case in point—tonight, she wore a skin-tight black tank top. Her breasts flowed over the scooped neckline, creating a deep valley of cleavage that he wanted to dive his face right into. The vivid tattoos on both her arms drew his attention next. He’d have to ask her the artist’s name. The skin art exhibited flawless skill, adding a naughty, wicked air to her body language, balancing out her softness with a tough edge sure to slice through any man’s resistance.
Her platinum curls brushed her shoulders, sweeping her soft flesh with each sway of her round hips. She encased her plush shapely legs in a pair of tight stonewashed jeans. The hem of each leg touched the floor, the denim a tad too long for her petite frame. She wore her usual Converse sneakers. A diamond stud on the side of her nose caught the light and sparkled. Her bright irises sucked him in every time. The large, sapphire pools surrounded by thick raven-painted lashes glowed beneath the club lights. Thin black lines contoured her almond-shaped eyes, making them exotic. She kept her lips natural, no more than a hint of clear gloss coated her mouth. Not a single blemish marred her porcelain smooth skin. With her pale complexion, she’d be crazy to worship the sun.
A modern-day version of Marilyn Monroe, she possessed beauty, brains, and a body that made a man jump up and take immediate notice. Bursting with attitude and spice, Cat dared a man to tame her, even though he had little chance at success. On the outside, she wielded her sarcastic, witty, and flirty manner without shame. Deep within, she oozed feminine sexuality. She wore whatever the hell she wanted. Not that fashion mattered to her. Whether she sported a simple pair of faded jeans or a sleek, tight dress barely covering her fine ass, Cat Cross wore it well.
Her curves might not fit into society’s standards, but they sure as hell fit into his fantasies whenever he closed his eyes. She spoke her mind, didn’t succumb to convention, and for some strange reason, she scared the shit out of him.
Around her, his usual charm took an exit. His wit became nonexistent. He never knew what to say or how to respond to her flirty comebacks and appreciative glances. She unhinged him like no other woman.
She hadn’t noticed him yet. Her attention was locked in her own thoughts. He, on the other hand, shifted with a groan. As always, her presence caused him an instant hard-on. One glance at her full, bouncing breasts and soft round hips knocked him down the evolutional scale by ten thousand years. In an instant, he shifted him from cool, confident gentleman to sex-crazed caveman. Muscles tensed, skin heated, and his heart pounded as his body battled the arousal beating against his usual calm exterior. He cracked his neck and rolled back his shoulders, preparing for the flirty comments to commence.
In her hand, she held a deep blue guitar. The sight made Stan tilt his head. She didn’t seem the groupie type.
Two steps before she reached him, she glanced up, finally noticing him. A wide grin lifted her kissable lips. Just like that, he lost the war. He winced. His erection throbbed.
“Well, if my eyes don’t deceive me. Stan Morrison, my favorite neighborhood firefighter.” Unfazed, her eyes traveled the length of his body. She bit her bottom lip and lifted her brows.
He leaned against the wall and nearly fell when his shoulder met with air. Instead of a wall, his body pushed against a door that hadn’t been closed all the way. He quickly caught himself on the doorframe.
Shit, did the freaking wall move? He pulled the door closed.
The carefree sound of her laugh shot through his chest and struck his heart like a well-aimed bullet. Embarrassment attempted to heat his cheeks. He fought the distress like a warrior. Her ability to unarm him never failed. Several months of fighting off arousal in her presence made him a master at hiding his reaction to her.
Well, except for a moment ago, when he’d almost fallen into the supply room, but otherwise, he’d handled himself like a champion. Yeah, just call me Champ.
He kept his stance casual with his hands fisted in his pockets. His eyes locked on her as he kept his cool to the hot, deep, hunger burning in her eyes. Jesus, she unnerved him. Those damned enormous eyes entranced him like a pendulum swinging to the ticktock of a clock. Her smile—well, the wicked smirk—dared him to grab her, kiss her, and wipe the amusement from her beautiful face.
“What’s going on, beautiful?” He struggled to keep his gaze on her face and not her perfect breasts. Fat chance. He had a better shot sinking a basketball from the opposite end of the court with one hand…blindfolded.
“Not much. Getting ready for my set.”
He pushed away from the doorframe. “You’re in a band?” Pete never mentioned anything about it. Neither did Cara.
“What did you think I was…one of those airheaded groupies?”
He glanced away. The thought had crossed his mind. He’d be damned if he’d admit it, though.
“Figures. Men always underestimate me, because of these babies.” She gave her tits a quick, gentle squeeze.
His gaze dropped. He licked his lips. Fingers snapped in front of his face, catching his attention immediately. He glanced up to Cat’s smirk. Damn, there went my well-maintained control.
About the Author:
K. D. Friedrich is a writer of Contemporary and Paranormal Romance. A lifelong New Yorker, an overprotective mother (her daughter's words), and an obsessed reader of everything romance. Most days, you can find her hard at work, creating intricate worlds and compelling characters, hot alpha heroes being her favorite. Her novel, Soul Tie Seduction, placed second in the 2013 Golden Palm contest for Paranormal Romance and was a finalist in the 2016 Golden Quill for Paranormal Romance.