Read the excerpt from Right Where You Are by L.E. Bross:
I shoved Grant and his cheating ass out of my mind.
This was my night.
If I wanted to doing something crazy now, I damned well could.
And oh, my God, I wanted to.
Seth led me to an old truck parked on the street. It was dented and rusted out in places and had a different-colored door. I expected Seth to open the door for me, but instead he leaned back against the metal and tugged on my hand. I took a few wobbly steps closer, standing between his slightly spread legs.
His free hand snaked around my waist and he pulled me closer, until my body pressed up against his. I had to tilt my head back a little to look at him.
I ran my tongue over my kiss-swollen lips.
That seemed to ignite something in him because he slid both hands down my sides and wrapped them around the back of my thighs. In one swift movement, he lifted me, and my legs wrapped around his waist.
He spun, and now I was pressed up against the cold metal door.
I grabbed at the hair on his neck and moved my hips, rocked back and forth against the hardness in his jeans. Need burned in my veins. With every pulse it drove deeper into my body, twisted and writhed under my skin.
I had never felt this desperate for release.
Every noise we made just fed the flames of desire raging between us.
Screw going back to the apartment. I pulled my head back enough so that I could see his eyes. “I want you. Now.”
He fumbled behind me and stepped back, opening the door to the truck. His lips were back on mine as he lifted me up onto the seat. He slid his hands under the excuse for a shirt I had on and skimmed up over my ribs.
Seth easily slid his thumbs under the gap in my shirt and grazed them over my nipples. I arched back, a loud moan ripping from my chest. Cool air washed over my heated skin as he lifted my shirt.
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He moved off my lips, dragging his mouth over my chin, down my neck. I tangled my hands in his hair, urging him on. He teased one tip, then the other, with tiny flicks of his tongue.
I growled, arching my back and pulling at his head.
He nipped and kissed all around my breasts, avoiding the spot where I ached to be touched. The need grew so strong it buzzed in my ears. I whimpered, begged, but he kept teasing me.
Tears burned the back of my eyes.
“Please,” I choked out.
He lifted his head, kissed along my jaw, the corner of my lips, then sank his tongue into my mouth. He stroked slower this time, fanning the flames just enough to keep me teetering on the edge. I cried out when he pulled away again and rested his forehead against mine.
His eyes were almost black with desire.
I couldn’t look away.
“You’re so f***ing beautiful.” His lips brushed over mine, and a new wash of goose bumps rippled over my skin.
A deep moan echoed in my chest and filled his truck. Seth swore and dug his fingers into my hair, holding my head still while I rocked my hips against him. Pure pleasure made every inch of my body tight with awareness.
Seth dipped his head and flicked his tongue over first one nipple, then the other. I arched off the seat, a strangled cry falling from my lips. I would say or do anything right that second to make him never stop what he was doing.
“Baby,” he whispered, dropping kisses from my chest to my ear and along my jaw, “do one thing for me and then I promise I’ll make you scream my name until you beg me to stop.”
Air lodged in my chest and his words ratcheted the need in my blood to inferno level. No one had ever said anything so dirty to me before. If he touched me again, I was going to implode into myself.
“Anything,” I moaned. “Anything you want.” And at that moment, I would give it to him. Anything. As long as he kept doing whatever this was he did to make my body so wild. So needy and desperate for release.
None of this was me, and I loved it. Wanted to shout to the world that I was getting my world rocked in a pickup truck in a bar parking lot. Me. Avery Hartley.
Seth kissed over to my lips and took them in another deep kiss, rendering me mindless. When he pulled back, he was breathing hard and his eyes were so black with hunger, he looked inhuman in the shadowed light.
“I just want one thing, sweetheart.”
His gaze kept me prisoner. I couldn’t look away. Couldn’t speak. So I nodded.
“Tell me what your name really is.”
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About the author: L.E. Bross was born and raised in a very small town in MidCoast Maine where she spent countless hours exploring the woods around the farm where she lived, and playing dress-up with her grandma's suede boots. She even had a stubborn pinto pony named Magic. This is her first New Adult novel.