Today we are sharing an excerpt and teaser from Melody Grace's Unstoppable. Unstoppable is the newest addition to the fantastic Beachwood Bay (Callahans #3) Series and is Ryland & Tegan's story. We can not say enough about this series and are very excited for it's release on September 19th! We hope you enjoy the excerpt and this series as much as we do!
Excerpt: Unstoppable
Meet Ryland
RYLAND
I’m three hands into a round of Texas Hold’em when the dealer turns the last card and I realize: it’s over. Not just the game, but everything. My shitty job, my gig here in Vegas. This whole dirty chapter in my wrong-track life. Nobody’s laid a single card down, but I know.
I’m done.
“What’s it gonna be, boys?” My boss, Driskell, leans back in his chair so far you’d think he’s about to rest his black cowboy boots right on the poker table. He gives that famous shark’s grin, the one that spells trouble for anyone on the other end. “Who’s got the balls for this one?”
I can see the split-second decisions being made around me. This isn’t pocket change we’re playing for, there’s already seventy-five grand on the table, stacked in plastic chips. The high rollers lounge at the Bellagio doesn’t come cheap, and Driskell always likes to put on a show.
I tap my cards, trying not to let my feelings show. I’m not even supposed to be here.
These guys are made of cash, all decked out in their designer suits and expensive Rolex watches, while I’m in jeans and a dusty pair of boots. My job is on the door, or the exit, wherever Driskell tells me to be. I’m just the muscle, making sure one of his many enemies don’t get close enough to try anything. And with his line of work, they always try. Last month a rival boss pulled a gun on him during a routine negotiation in Tampa.
He’s still breathing through a respirator.
But one of the players ducked out early tonight, and Driskell told me to take the open seat. Now he’s smirking at me like he knows just how far out of my league I’m swimming. “You sure you don’t wanna fold, kid?” He throws down another stack of chips, another ten grand at least. “You can walk right now, no harm, no foul. I’ll just add it to your tab.”
My tab.
He makes it sound like a couple of beers, but it’s the reason I’m here at all, working for a man like him. Two years and counting as his personal enforcer, and I’m nowhere
near close to repaying the debt I owe.
It was worth it. It’ll always be worth it, but still, I feel a clench of anger
when he rubs it in like this.
I shrug, taking a gulp of beer. “I’m good.”
Driskell snorts. He thinks I’m bluffing. They all do. And why not? They run this town, every dark, seedy corner, and me, I’m just some punk kid, here to crack heads and keep the peace.
One by one, the players around me fold. “My wife is gonna kill me,” one of them sighs. “Screw your wife. What about my mistress?” Another guy makes a show of throwing
down his cards. But my eyes stay fixed on Driskell, looking for some sign.
Until the door opens and she walks in.
I don’t know why she catches my eye. This is Vegas, and pretty girls are all over the Strip, wearing heels much higher and dresses way shorter than hers. But as she carefully weaves her way past the table towards the bar, I can’t help staring. A petite body poured into a simple black dress, her dark hair tumbling free. There’s something about the way she moves, an effortless grace as she slides up on a barstool and gazes curiously out around the room.
I can’t look away.
Our eyes meet; she catches me staring, but I don’t blink. Instead, I drink her in, memorizing her face the way I always do. It’s my thing, a way of keeping track. You never know when you’ll need to recall someone in a crowd, that split-second warning that could save your life.
But tonight, it’s not danger that has my pulse racing. This is all on her. Dark eyes, set in a small, pale face. Midnight pools, mysterious and guarded. In a room full of women tanned and made-up within an inch of their lives, laughing too loud, shrieking too brightly, she stands out just by virtue of her stillness. Her quiet.
“Alright, kid, you’re up,” Driskell announces, pulling me back to the game.
Damn. I try and shake off the moment across the room. Your whole future’s on that table, and you’re getting distracted, thinking about some girl?
“Time for the fat lady to start singin’,” someone whistles.
“I don’t see your mama anywhere,” one of the guys cracks. Everybody laughs but me and Driskell, holding our cards casually as if it doesn’t matter what’s on the other side.
This is it.
I should be nervous. I should give a damn. But the truth is, I’ve got nothing in this world left to lose. And whether I walk out that door tonight or get thrown out in a bloody heap, I’ve had it with them all.
I don’t even look at my cards. I couldn’t fold now even if I wanted. I toss the last of my borrowed chips in the middle. “Call.”
Driskell’s mouth curves into a triumphant grin.
“Royal flush,” he drawls, laying them out.
There’s whistles and cheering, and Driskell is reaching for the chips even as
I set my cards down in a neat line.
“Straight aces.”
I catch the shock on Driskell’s face, but he knows better than to show weakness, not in front of this crowd. He chuckles. “Well, I’ll be damned. Who knew the kid had it in him after all?”
I wait for the crowd to disperse, everyone paying tribute to Driskell before they leave. I slide one chip in my pocket, and then approach him, holding out the bag.
“We’re even now.”
Driskell doesn’t take it. “We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he tells me, in that ice- cool tone that says it’s not a discussion.
But I stand firm. “There’s over eighty here, it’s more than enough.”
“It ain’t just about the money.”
Before I can argue, someone leans in to respectfully whisper in his ear. He’s needed elsewhere. There’s a situation at one of the stash houses.
He nods, then turns back to me with a wide grin. “You should celebrate. Take the night off, have some fun. You can afford her,” he adds, nodding to the girl at the bar.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
He strolls away, heading for the door. His driver, Jimmy follows, but I stop him. “Take this,” I tell him, passing him the bag of winnings. “Driskell wants it in the main safe.
Tell him when it’s secure.”
Jimmy nods. “You coming out with the boys?
We’re going to hit Diamond Girls after this is all squared away.”
“No thanks.” I pat him on the back.
He’s not a friend, but he’s been a friendly face around here.
“You take care.”
Jimmy looks puzzled, but he doesn’t ask questions, just heads obediently after Driskell, the way all good dogs do. Usually, I’d be right there at the end of my invisible leash,
jumping to command, but not tonight.
Not ever again.
It hits me for real now, as I stand there in the middle of the crowded room. I’m finally free.
My debt is paid, the slate is wiped clean. No more dirty work, no more broken bones and skeevy clubs, no more back-alley dealings and nights in a shitty apartment watching the ceiling fan spin and wishing I could be anywhere else but here.
The rest of my life starts right now.
I head to the bar, victory singing in my veins. It’s a miracle, but the girl is still alone,
so I take it as a sign to slide in next to her.
“No.”
Her voice is cool and firm. She doesn’t even look over. I smile. “I was just going to offer to buy you a drink.” “I know,” she replies, turning now. “And I said no.”
I pause, thrown for a moment by those dark, watchful eyes. I know when to take the hint, but there’s something about the way she’s looking at me,
like there’s more going on beneath the surface. “Can I ask why not?”
“Because you’re trouble.” The girl doesn’t say it like she’s flirting,
she says it like it’s a fact.
“Me? I’m a teddy bear.” I flash her my most charming grin, the one that gets any
girl in this town to slip me her hotel key.
She snorts. “Try a grizzly.”
I pause, trying to figure her out. “One beer.” “I don’t drink.”
“Then you sure picked a strange place to hang out for the night.”
The girl sighs. “I know.” The guarded look slips, just a little. “It’s my birthday,” she adds quietly. “Or rather, it will be in…three minutes.” She checks the clock on the wall. “My brother’s off God knows where with his girlfriend, probably getting married, and I’m…sitting here babbling to a complete stranger.” She rolls her eyes, catching herself.
“A handsome, mysterious stranger,” I grin. “I’m Ryland,” I add, holding out my hand. She hesitates a moment before taking it. “Tegan,” she says.
Her touch is cool and soft, and I feel a strange sense of regret when she withdraws her hand and looks away, shoulders tense. I wonder who hurt her, who made her sit here all alone counting down to her birthday: away from her family and friends, so quiet in the crowd.
But more than anything, I want to make her forget all that, just for a moment.
“You sure about that drink?” I ask. “I’m sure the bartender can whip you up a Shirley Temple.”
Tegan shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but I meant what I said,” she says quietly.
“I’ve had enough of guys like you.”
I move closer, taking her by surprise. She looks up, eyes widening in shock as I lean in closer, drawling low just for her to hear.
“Baby, you’ve never met a man like me.”
I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the beer buzz, or the contact high from her arm pressing against my side. Maybe it’s the thrill of new beginnings,
and the end of my life in this town.
Or maybe it’s just because in this moment, I suddenly want her more than anything. But whatever the reason, I lean down and kiss her, right in front of everyone.
Her lips are soft, parted in surprise, sweet as the ripe peaches I used to steal from the farm. I slide my hand to the back of her head, and kiss her deeper, falling into the bliss of her warm mouth and the gentle slide of her tongue.
It’s everything I’ve been needing, and I didn’t even know it.
Tegan pauses, uncertain against my mouth, and then she’s kissing me back. Damn.
I’m not the one who’s trouble here, she is. Arching up to meet my lips, tasting me, biting down on my lip with a smirk. Tegan presses her body against me, demanding more,
and I have to bite back a groan of desire.
Who is this girl?
There’s fire lurking beneath that calm surface, a passion that could drive a man wild. I spiral, devouring her sweet lips, sliding my hands over her body, needing to be a dozen miles away from this packed bar right now: some place with a door, and a lock, and a bed.
Tegan pulls away with a gasp.
“Happy birthday,” I whisper, relishing the flare in her eyes. The desire there, the hunger. But as I reach for her, the shutters come down again. Panic skitters across her face. She lurches back.
“I’m sorry,” she stammers, conflict clear on her face. “I can’t. Not this time.” Before I can stop her, she turns and flees, ducking through the crowd.
What the hell?
I start after her, but I can’t get by so easy. I shove people aside with quick apologies, making for the exit. But when I burst through the doorway and look around, she’s nowhere to be seen.
Dammit.
I pace the neon, noisy floors, desperately looking for some sign of that dark hair, those watchful eyes. I’ve covered the whole damn hotel before I finally give it up.
She’s gone.
I catch my breath out front by the fountains. A crowd has gathered, waiting for the next famous show. Right on cue, the music starts, and the water jets arc up, bright against the dark sky. It’s beautiful, as these things go. The Strip shines, a dazzling sea of neon and lights in the desert, but I’ve seen this view too many times to care.
That kiss was like a dose of reality, cutting through the bullshit and reminding me what it’s like to feel something real. Something pure. Enough doing dirty work, swimming with the sharks. Enough of this town, and all the fake, glittering promise.
I pull out my cellphone, and dial the number I know by heart. I haven’t used it in way too long, but I know tonight it’s time.
“Ray Jay?” The voice on the other end is puzzled, and I don’t blame him.
“What’s going on? Is everything OK?”
“I’m fine,” I reassure him, before he thinks I’m locked up in some county sheriff’s office. “And when will you stop calling me that? I haven’t gone by Ray Jay since I was a kid.”
Emerson snorts. “Can you blame me for getting it wrong when I haven’t seen you in years?” he says it lightly, but I can hear the disapproval in his tone. “You didn’t make it down for my wedding, or Brit’s. We’re still your family, Ryland. Or we would be, if you let us.”
“Then you’re in luck, big brother.” I take one last look at the city lights, and start walking.
“I’m coming home.”
I’m three hands into a round of Texas Hold’em when the dealer turns the last card and I realize: it’s over. Not just the game, but everything. My shitty job, my gig here in Vegas. This whole dirty chapter in my wrong-track life. Nobody’s laid a single card down, but I know.
I’m done.
“What’s it gonna be, boys?” My boss, Driskell, leans back in his chair so far you’d think he’s about to rest his black cowboy boots right on the poker table. He gives that famous shark’s grin, the one that spells trouble for anyone on the other end. “Who’s got the balls for this one?”
I can see the split-second decisions being made around me. This isn’t pocket change we’re playing for, there’s already seventy-five grand on the table, stacked in plastic chips. The high rollers lounge at the Bellagio doesn’t come cheap, and Driskell always likes to put on a show.
I tap my cards, trying not to let my feelings show. I’m not even supposed to be here.
These guys are made of cash, all decked out in their designer suits and expensive Rolex watches, while I’m in jeans and a dusty pair of boots. My job is on the door, or the exit, wherever Driskell tells me to be. I’m just the muscle, making sure one of his many enemies don’t get close enough to try anything. And with his line of work, they always try. Last month a rival boss pulled a gun on him during a routine negotiation in Tampa.
He’s still breathing through a respirator.
But one of the players ducked out early tonight, and Driskell told me to take the open seat. Now he’s smirking at me like he knows just how far out of my league I’m swimming. “You sure you don’t wanna fold, kid?” He throws down another stack of chips, another ten grand at least. “You can walk right now, no harm, no foul. I’ll just add it to your tab.”
My tab.
He makes it sound like a couple of beers, but it’s the reason I’m here at all, working for a man like him. Two years and counting as his personal enforcer, and I’m nowhere
near close to repaying the debt I owe.
It was worth it. It’ll always be worth it, but still, I feel a clench of anger
when he rubs it in like this.
I shrug, taking a gulp of beer. “I’m good.”
Driskell snorts. He thinks I’m bluffing. They all do. And why not? They run this town, every dark, seedy corner, and me, I’m just some punk kid, here to crack heads and keep the peace.
One by one, the players around me fold. “My wife is gonna kill me,” one of them sighs. “Screw your wife. What about my mistress?” Another guy makes a show of throwing
down his cards. But my eyes stay fixed on Driskell, looking for some sign.
Until the door opens and she walks in.
I don’t know why she catches my eye. This is Vegas, and pretty girls are all over the Strip, wearing heels much higher and dresses way shorter than hers. But as she carefully weaves her way past the table towards the bar, I can’t help staring. A petite body poured into a simple black dress, her dark hair tumbling free. There’s something about the way she moves, an effortless grace as she slides up on a barstool and gazes curiously out around the room.
I can’t look away.
Our eyes meet; she catches me staring, but I don’t blink. Instead, I drink her in, memorizing her face the way I always do. It’s my thing, a way of keeping track. You never know when you’ll need to recall someone in a crowd, that split-second warning that could save your life.
But tonight, it’s not danger that has my pulse racing. This is all on her. Dark eyes, set in a small, pale face. Midnight pools, mysterious and guarded. In a room full of women tanned and made-up within an inch of their lives, laughing too loud, shrieking too brightly, she stands out just by virtue of her stillness. Her quiet.
“Alright, kid, you’re up,” Driskell announces, pulling me back to the game.
Damn. I try and shake off the moment across the room. Your whole future’s on that table, and you’re getting distracted, thinking about some girl?
“Time for the fat lady to start singin’,” someone whistles.
“I don’t see your mama anywhere,” one of the guys cracks. Everybody laughs but me and Driskell, holding our cards casually as if it doesn’t matter what’s on the other side.
This is it.
I should be nervous. I should give a damn. But the truth is, I’ve got nothing in this world left to lose. And whether I walk out that door tonight or get thrown out in a bloody heap, I’ve had it with them all.
I don’t even look at my cards. I couldn’t fold now even if I wanted. I toss the last of my borrowed chips in the middle. “Call.”
Driskell’s mouth curves into a triumphant grin.
“Royal flush,” he drawls, laying them out.
There’s whistles and cheering, and Driskell is reaching for the chips even as
I set my cards down in a neat line.
“Straight aces.”
I catch the shock on Driskell’s face, but he knows better than to show weakness, not in front of this crowd. He chuckles. “Well, I’ll be damned. Who knew the kid had it in him after all?”
I wait for the crowd to disperse, everyone paying tribute to Driskell before they leave. I slide one chip in my pocket, and then approach him, holding out the bag.
“We’re even now.”
Driskell doesn’t take it. “We’ll talk about this in the morning,” he tells me, in that ice- cool tone that says it’s not a discussion.
But I stand firm. “There’s over eighty here, it’s more than enough.”
“It ain’t just about the money.”
Before I can argue, someone leans in to respectfully whisper in his ear. He’s needed elsewhere. There’s a situation at one of the stash houses.
He nods, then turns back to me with a wide grin. “You should celebrate. Take the night off, have some fun. You can afford her,” he adds, nodding to the girl at the bar.
“I’ll see you in the morning.”
He strolls away, heading for the door. His driver, Jimmy follows, but I stop him. “Take this,” I tell him, passing him the bag of winnings. “Driskell wants it in the main safe.
Tell him when it’s secure.”
Jimmy nods. “You coming out with the boys?
We’re going to hit Diamond Girls after this is all squared away.”
“No thanks.” I pat him on the back.
He’s not a friend, but he’s been a friendly face around here.
“You take care.”
Jimmy looks puzzled, but he doesn’t ask questions, just heads obediently after Driskell, the way all good dogs do. Usually, I’d be right there at the end of my invisible leash,
jumping to command, but not tonight.
Not ever again.
It hits me for real now, as I stand there in the middle of the crowded room. I’m finally free.
My debt is paid, the slate is wiped clean. No more dirty work, no more broken bones and skeevy clubs, no more back-alley dealings and nights in a shitty apartment watching the ceiling fan spin and wishing I could be anywhere else but here.
The rest of my life starts right now.
I head to the bar, victory singing in my veins. It’s a miracle, but the girl is still alone,
so I take it as a sign to slide in next to her.
“No.”
Her voice is cool and firm. She doesn’t even look over. I smile. “I was just going to offer to buy you a drink.” “I know,” she replies, turning now. “And I said no.”
I pause, thrown for a moment by those dark, watchful eyes. I know when to take the hint, but there’s something about the way she’s looking at me,
like there’s more going on beneath the surface. “Can I ask why not?”
“Because you’re trouble.” The girl doesn’t say it like she’s flirting,
she says it like it’s a fact.
“Me? I’m a teddy bear.” I flash her my most charming grin, the one that gets any
girl in this town to slip me her hotel key.
She snorts. “Try a grizzly.”
I pause, trying to figure her out. “One beer.” “I don’t drink.”
“Then you sure picked a strange place to hang out for the night.”
The girl sighs. “I know.” The guarded look slips, just a little. “It’s my birthday,” she adds quietly. “Or rather, it will be in…three minutes.” She checks the clock on the wall. “My brother’s off God knows where with his girlfriend, probably getting married, and I’m…sitting here babbling to a complete stranger.” She rolls her eyes, catching herself.
“A handsome, mysterious stranger,” I grin. “I’m Ryland,” I add, holding out my hand. She hesitates a moment before taking it. “Tegan,” she says.
Her touch is cool and soft, and I feel a strange sense of regret when she withdraws her hand and looks away, shoulders tense. I wonder who hurt her, who made her sit here all alone counting down to her birthday: away from her family and friends, so quiet in the crowd.
But more than anything, I want to make her forget all that, just for a moment.
“You sure about that drink?” I ask. “I’m sure the bartender can whip you up a Shirley Temple.”
Tegan shakes her head. “I’m sorry, but I meant what I said,” she says quietly.
“I’ve had enough of guys like you.”
I move closer, taking her by surprise. She looks up, eyes widening in shock as I lean in closer, drawling low just for her to hear.
“Baby, you’ve never met a man like me.”
I don’t know what comes over me. Maybe it’s the beer buzz, or the contact high from her arm pressing against my side. Maybe it’s the thrill of new beginnings,
and the end of my life in this town.
Or maybe it’s just because in this moment, I suddenly want her more than anything. But whatever the reason, I lean down and kiss her, right in front of everyone.
Her lips are soft, parted in surprise, sweet as the ripe peaches I used to steal from the farm. I slide my hand to the back of her head, and kiss her deeper, falling into the bliss of her warm mouth and the gentle slide of her tongue.
It’s everything I’ve been needing, and I didn’t even know it.
Tegan pauses, uncertain against my mouth, and then she’s kissing me back. Damn.
I’m not the one who’s trouble here, she is. Arching up to meet my lips, tasting me, biting down on my lip with a smirk. Tegan presses her body against me, demanding more,
and I have to bite back a groan of desire.
Who is this girl?
There’s fire lurking beneath that calm surface, a passion that could drive a man wild. I spiral, devouring her sweet lips, sliding my hands over her body, needing to be a dozen miles away from this packed bar right now: some place with a door, and a lock, and a bed.
Tegan pulls away with a gasp.
“Happy birthday,” I whisper, relishing the flare in her eyes. The desire there, the hunger. But as I reach for her, the shutters come down again. Panic skitters across her face. She lurches back.
“I’m sorry,” she stammers, conflict clear on her face. “I can’t. Not this time.” Before I can stop her, she turns and flees, ducking through the crowd.
What the hell?
I start after her, but I can’t get by so easy. I shove people aside with quick apologies, making for the exit. But when I burst through the doorway and look around, she’s nowhere to be seen.
Dammit.
I pace the neon, noisy floors, desperately looking for some sign of that dark hair, those watchful eyes. I’ve covered the whole damn hotel before I finally give it up.
She’s gone.
I catch my breath out front by the fountains. A crowd has gathered, waiting for the next famous show. Right on cue, the music starts, and the water jets arc up, bright against the dark sky. It’s beautiful, as these things go. The Strip shines, a dazzling sea of neon and lights in the desert, but I’ve seen this view too many times to care.
That kiss was like a dose of reality, cutting through the bullshit and reminding me what it’s like to feel something real. Something pure. Enough doing dirty work, swimming with the sharks. Enough of this town, and all the fake, glittering promise.
I pull out my cellphone, and dial the number I know by heart. I haven’t used it in way too long, but I know tonight it’s time.
“Ray Jay?” The voice on the other end is puzzled, and I don’t blame him.
“What’s going on? Is everything OK?”
“I’m fine,” I reassure him, before he thinks I’m locked up in some county sheriff’s office. “And when will you stop calling me that? I haven’t gone by Ray Jay since I was a kid.”
Emerson snorts. “Can you blame me for getting it wrong when I haven’t seen you in years?” he says it lightly, but I can hear the disapproval in his tone. “You didn’t make it down for my wedding, or Brit’s. We’re still your family, Ryland. Or we would be, if you let us.”
“Then you’re in luck, big brother.” I take one last look at the city lights, and start walking.
“I’m coming home.”
Book Summary & Pre-order Button
Tegan Callahan has sworn off bad boys for good. Growing up on tour with her rock star brother, she knows first-hand the damage they can do. She’s looking for a nice, safe, stable guy – until a chance encounter with a devastatingly sexy stranger makes her question everything she thought she wanted.
A troubled soul…
Ryland James arrives in Beachwood Bay on the run from his mistakes. He knows he’s the last thing Tegan needs, but somehow, he can’t stay away. There’s something about her fierce beauty that draws him in – and makes him vow to protect her, whatever the cost.
A passionate destiny…
Their bond is undeniable; the stakes, higher than ever. But the past won’t stay gone forever, and soon, Ryland must make the ultimate choice: will he risk everything he treasures in the world, or keep Tegan safe – and sacrifice her love forever?
A troubled soul…
Ryland James arrives in Beachwood Bay on the run from his mistakes. He knows he’s the last thing Tegan needs, but somehow, he can’t stay away. There’s something about her fierce beauty that draws him in – and makes him vow to protect her, whatever the cost.
A passionate destiny…
Their bond is undeniable; the stakes, higher than ever. But the past won’t stay gone forever, and soon, Ryland must make the ultimate choice: will he risk everything he treasures in the world, or keep Tegan safe – and sacrifice her love forever?
Meet the author
I'm a new SoCal girl, and the author of sexy & heartfelt new adult romances. I love gelato, red lipstick, and laying out on the beach with a good book.
Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Rock Star
Stalk Her: Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Rock Star
Beachwood Bay Series Reading Order
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For more teaser & excerpts on this amazing series click "Read More"
Book Three: Unconditional
Fall in love with Beachwood Bay in Melody Grace’s USA Today and internationally bestselling series!
"I’ve spent my whole life chasing perfection: perfect looks, perfect man, perfect home. But in one brutal moment, I realized it was all just a beautiful lie…"
Carina MacKenzie is fleeing from her past. Picking up the wreckage of her shattered dreams, she seeks comfort in the only place she’s ever felt safe: Beachwood Bay.
Garrett Sawyer isn’t looking to be anyone’s savior. Scarred by old betrayals, he’s sworn never to put his heart on the line again -- especially not for a damaged, high-maintenance girl like Carina. But passion knows no logic, and soon, their reckless chemistry is making him forget his bitter vows.
Two damaged hearts. The hope of true love. As their passion blazes out of control, Carina and Garrett struggle to escape their legacies of hurt. But can you ever outrun the past? And when everything is on the line, can they trust enough to build a love that's unconditional?
*This book contains adult situations and explicit content. 17+*
"I’ve spent my whole life chasing perfection: perfect looks, perfect man, perfect home. But in one brutal moment, I realized it was all just a beautiful lie…"
Carina MacKenzie is fleeing from her past. Picking up the wreckage of her shattered dreams, she seeks comfort in the only place she’s ever felt safe: Beachwood Bay.
Garrett Sawyer isn’t looking to be anyone’s savior. Scarred by old betrayals, he’s sworn never to put his heart on the line again -- especially not for a damaged, high-maintenance girl like Carina. But passion knows no logic, and soon, their reckless chemistry is making him forget his bitter vows.
Two damaged hearts. The hope of true love. As their passion blazes out of control, Carina and Garrett struggle to escape their legacies of hurt. But can you ever outrun the past? And when everything is on the line, can they trust enough to build a love that's unconditional?
*This book contains adult situations and explicit content. 17+*
Unconditional
Excerpt One
The bathroom door is ajar and I push it open without thinking, stepping inside the small space to--
Holy hell!
My heart stops. Garrett is right in front of me. Getting out of the shower.
Naked.
All the way naked.
I freeze, my mouth dropping open in a silent shriek of shock. He’s dripping wet, his hair damp against his scalp, water running in sexy rivulets down the ridges and curves of his naked body, gleaming in the morning light.
“What the--?” Garrett startles and grabs for a towel, his eyes flaring. “Jesus, woman, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
“The door was open!” I yelp, reeling back into the hall. He wraps the towel around his waist, but the image of his nakedness is emblazoned on my memory now, the droplets trickling down over his muscular chest, along the furrowed line between his bulging abs, along to the jut of his hipbone and then....
My cheeks flush.
Oh my.
I spin around, hiding my blush as I hear Garrett chuckling behind me. My heart races, skin burning with embarrassment.
“You’re a lucky lady.” Garrett winks at me as he passes. “Usually, I charge for the floor seats.”
I blush even harder. “I didn’t see anything!” I protest, wishing the ground would split open and swallow me up.
“Sure you didn’t.” Garrett heads to his room, and in the bright sunlight, I see a web of tattoos spanning across the back of his shoulder. An intricate design with initials I can’t make out. “Good thing I used all the hot water,” he calls back to me, laughing. “You could use some cooling off!”
He’s right.
I would never give him the satisfaction, but I need ten minutes under the icy water before I feel back in control of my treacherous body. I tell myself it’s just an automatic response. Pheromones, chemical compounds playing havoc with my senses. If you put a sticky, glazed donut in front of me, I’d feel hungry, and this is no difference. Hell, any woman would be getting hot and bothered after a glimpse of that dripping, wet physique.
But still...
I hate how he makes my pulse race, a skittering rhythm in my chest. I hate that he reminds me how long it’s been since I felt this way -- even a fraction of this lust, this attraction; how most of the time, these days, I don’t feel much of anything at all.
But more than all of that, I hate the creeping suspicion that my attraction is more than just physical, that something about him is magnetic, a wordless connection I can’t even understand.
Holy hell!
My heart stops. Garrett is right in front of me. Getting out of the shower.
Naked.
All the way naked.
I freeze, my mouth dropping open in a silent shriek of shock. He’s dripping wet, his hair damp against his scalp, water running in sexy rivulets down the ridges and curves of his naked body, gleaming in the morning light.
“What the--?” Garrett startles and grabs for a towel, his eyes flaring. “Jesus, woman, haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
“The door was open!” I yelp, reeling back into the hall. He wraps the towel around his waist, but the image of his nakedness is emblazoned on my memory now, the droplets trickling down over his muscular chest, along the furrowed line between his bulging abs, along to the jut of his hipbone and then....
My cheeks flush.
Oh my.
I spin around, hiding my blush as I hear Garrett chuckling behind me. My heart races, skin burning with embarrassment.
“You’re a lucky lady.” Garrett winks at me as he passes. “Usually, I charge for the floor seats.”
I blush even harder. “I didn’t see anything!” I protest, wishing the ground would split open and swallow me up.
“Sure you didn’t.” Garrett heads to his room, and in the bright sunlight, I see a web of tattoos spanning across the back of his shoulder. An intricate design with initials I can’t make out. “Good thing I used all the hot water,” he calls back to me, laughing. “You could use some cooling off!”
He’s right.
I would never give him the satisfaction, but I need ten minutes under the icy water before I feel back in control of my treacherous body. I tell myself it’s just an automatic response. Pheromones, chemical compounds playing havoc with my senses. If you put a sticky, glazed donut in front of me, I’d feel hungry, and this is no difference. Hell, any woman would be getting hot and bothered after a glimpse of that dripping, wet physique.
But still...
I hate how he makes my pulse race, a skittering rhythm in my chest. I hate that he reminds me how long it’s been since I felt this way -- even a fraction of this lust, this attraction; how most of the time, these days, I don’t feel much of anything at all.
But more than all of that, I hate the creeping suspicion that my attraction is more than just physical, that something about him is magnetic, a wordless connection I can’t even understand.
Unconditional
Excerpt Two
A noise comes. A shadow rears up in the dark. I scream.
“What the hell?”
Panic claws my chest and I scream again, reaching blindly for something to fight him off. Squatters and junkies and all kinds of dangerous men fill my mind as my hand closes around something solid on the hall table and I swing with everything I’ve got.
“Goddamn!” The figure reels back, stumbling against the wall.
“Get away from me!” I cry, shaking. My heart is racing so fast I think it might beat right out of my chest. I grip the object in my hand tighter. “Don’t touch me!”
“I’m not trying to touch you!” the man roars, angry. “I just want to know what you’re doing breaking into my goddamn house!”
The light flips on. I reel back, blinded by the sudden glare, but as the daze clears and my eyes flick back into focus, I see the man in front of me for the first time.
I stop breathing.
He’s half-naked, that’s the first thing I notice. Jesus, his body is like nothing I’ve ever seen before: tanned bronze and chiseled like a Greek god, but not like the guys I’ve dated, all waxed and pumped from hours at a fancy gym. This guy is real, raw, all muscle and power, with a web of dark tattoos snaking over the bicep of his right arm. I feel a flush roll through me, hot with prickling awareness, but I can’t look away as I take in his tight, sculpted six-pack abs, and the trail of dark hair leading down to the waistband of his navy briefs…
“Don’t mind me, darlin’,” his voice comes. “Any time you’re done looking…”
I snap my eyes up to his face, blushing. Then I look at him for real and it all clicks into place.
“Oh.” My heart clenches in my chest as I recognize him for the first time. “It’s you.”
Unshaven face. Messy bronzed bed-head hair. And a pair of stormy ocean-blue eyes scowling at me like I’m the last person on earth he wants to see.
And, I can say, the feeling is entirely mutual.
“It’s me,” Garrett Sawyer agrees in a low, Southern drawl. He strides over and snatches the vase from my hand, setting it down on the table with a thud. “Now, you want to tell me what the hell you’re doing creeping around my house at three in the goddamn morning?”
I catch my breath, the flush of desire mingling with irritation. I nearly had a heart attack trying to get in here, and he’s the one with an attitude?
“It’s not your house,” I snap, my heart still racing. “It’s mine.”
“Well, if you wanna get technical, it belongs to Emerson,” Garrett corrects me, glaring. “But I’m the only one here with permission to stay.”
“Why do you need a place?” I try to pull myself together, smoothing back my hair and yanking down my dress. “Don’t you live above that dirty old bar?”
“Nah.” Garrett paces closer, his full lips stretching into a lazy grin. “Usually I just go straight out back and roll around in the filth like a pig.”
His smile is heart-stopping, a whiskey smile, honeyed and dangerous and just inches away from me now. Despite my irritation, I feel another wave of heat roll through me, automatically rising to his nearness like a magnet spinning off its axis to find true north.
Damn.
I ignore the kick of my pulse and fold my arms across my chest. “You’re disgusting,” I retort, ignoring the shiver in my bloodstream.
“And you’re trespassing.” His gaze hungrily drifts over my body. I glance down, and see the rip has torn the skirt to the top of my thigh. I blush, yanking it shut.
“Look, I’m tired, OK?” I exclaim, self-conscious. “I’ve been driving all night, I didn’t know anyone would be here. I just need a place to sleep. Can we save all your territorial bullshit for the morning?”
Garrett raises an eyebrow at me, like he’s amused. I brace myself for more arguing, but instead, he gives a casual shrug. “Why not?”
I exhale with relief. “I’ve got a suitcase out front,” I tell him.
He smirks. “Then you better go get it. Spare bedroom upstairs, I’m sure you know the way.”
My mouth drops open, but before I can complain, there’s a noise from above us.
“Garrett?” a female voice sounds, and then a woman appears at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that barely skims her tanned thighs, her dark hair mussed up, makeup smudged around her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, honey,” Garrett calls up to her. “Go back to sleep.”
“But it’s cold.” The woman pouts suggestively. “I need you to come keep me warm.”
Real classy.
I roll my eyes, watching as Garrett flashes her one of his easy grins. “I’ll be right up, sugar. And then I want my T-shirt back.”
“Come and get it.” The woman giggles, then disappears back to the bedroom, leaving us alone in the foyer again.
“Honey?” I challenge him. “Sugar? Why not just admit you don’t even know her name?”
Garrett smirks at me. “Sure I do. It’s Lauren, or Laurie. Or maybe it was Lorna…” He frowns, pretending to think, and even though I know he’s just doing it to get a rise out of me, I can’t help but make a dismissive snort.
“Must be true love.”
Garrett narrows his eyes. “What I do with my life is none of your goddamn business. So why don’t you quit bitching and let me get back to sleep.”
I blink, thrown by the sudden change in his tone. “I’m not the one standing around giving me a hard time,” I retort. “I’d be asleep by now if you hadn’t come prowling around, trying to play hero.”
“Whatever you say, darlin’.” Garrett turns away and starts climbing the stairs. Then he pauses, turning back to me with a wicked grin, and says, “But you might want to wear earplugs. Lorna likes it loud.
“What the hell?”
Panic claws my chest and I scream again, reaching blindly for something to fight him off. Squatters and junkies and all kinds of dangerous men fill my mind as my hand closes around something solid on the hall table and I swing with everything I’ve got.
“Goddamn!” The figure reels back, stumbling against the wall.
“Get away from me!” I cry, shaking. My heart is racing so fast I think it might beat right out of my chest. I grip the object in my hand tighter. “Don’t touch me!”
“I’m not trying to touch you!” the man roars, angry. “I just want to know what you’re doing breaking into my goddamn house!”
The light flips on. I reel back, blinded by the sudden glare, but as the daze clears and my eyes flick back into focus, I see the man in front of me for the first time.
I stop breathing.
He’s half-naked, that’s the first thing I notice. Jesus, his body is like nothing I’ve ever seen before: tanned bronze and chiseled like a Greek god, but not like the guys I’ve dated, all waxed and pumped from hours at a fancy gym. This guy is real, raw, all muscle and power, with a web of dark tattoos snaking over the bicep of his right arm. I feel a flush roll through me, hot with prickling awareness, but I can’t look away as I take in his tight, sculpted six-pack abs, and the trail of dark hair leading down to the waistband of his navy briefs…
“Don’t mind me, darlin’,” his voice comes. “Any time you’re done looking…”
I snap my eyes up to his face, blushing. Then I look at him for real and it all clicks into place.
“Oh.” My heart clenches in my chest as I recognize him for the first time. “It’s you.”
Unshaven face. Messy bronzed bed-head hair. And a pair of stormy ocean-blue eyes scowling at me like I’m the last person on earth he wants to see.
And, I can say, the feeling is entirely mutual.
“It’s me,” Garrett Sawyer agrees in a low, Southern drawl. He strides over and snatches the vase from my hand, setting it down on the table with a thud. “Now, you want to tell me what the hell you’re doing creeping around my house at three in the goddamn morning?”
I catch my breath, the flush of desire mingling with irritation. I nearly had a heart attack trying to get in here, and he’s the one with an attitude?
“It’s not your house,” I snap, my heart still racing. “It’s mine.”
“Well, if you wanna get technical, it belongs to Emerson,” Garrett corrects me, glaring. “But I’m the only one here with permission to stay.”
“Why do you need a place?” I try to pull myself together, smoothing back my hair and yanking down my dress. “Don’t you live above that dirty old bar?”
“Nah.” Garrett paces closer, his full lips stretching into a lazy grin. “Usually I just go straight out back and roll around in the filth like a pig.”
His smile is heart-stopping, a whiskey smile, honeyed and dangerous and just inches away from me now. Despite my irritation, I feel another wave of heat roll through me, automatically rising to his nearness like a magnet spinning off its axis to find true north.
Damn.
I ignore the kick of my pulse and fold my arms across my chest. “You’re disgusting,” I retort, ignoring the shiver in my bloodstream.
“And you’re trespassing.” His gaze hungrily drifts over my body. I glance down, and see the rip has torn the skirt to the top of my thigh. I blush, yanking it shut.
“Look, I’m tired, OK?” I exclaim, self-conscious. “I’ve been driving all night, I didn’t know anyone would be here. I just need a place to sleep. Can we save all your territorial bullshit for the morning?”
Garrett raises an eyebrow at me, like he’s amused. I brace myself for more arguing, but instead, he gives a casual shrug. “Why not?”
I exhale with relief. “I’ve got a suitcase out front,” I tell him.
He smirks. “Then you better go get it. Spare bedroom upstairs, I’m sure you know the way.”
My mouth drops open, but before I can complain, there’s a noise from above us.
“Garrett?” a female voice sounds, and then a woman appears at the top of the stairs. She’s wearing an oversized T-shirt that barely skims her tanned thighs, her dark hair mussed up, makeup smudged around her eyes. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing, honey,” Garrett calls up to her. “Go back to sleep.”
“But it’s cold.” The woman pouts suggestively. “I need you to come keep me warm.”
Real classy.
I roll my eyes, watching as Garrett flashes her one of his easy grins. “I’ll be right up, sugar. And then I want my T-shirt back.”
“Come and get it.” The woman giggles, then disappears back to the bedroom, leaving us alone in the foyer again.
“Honey?” I challenge him. “Sugar? Why not just admit you don’t even know her name?”
Garrett smirks at me. “Sure I do. It’s Lauren, or Laurie. Or maybe it was Lorna…” He frowns, pretending to think, and even though I know he’s just doing it to get a rise out of me, I can’t help but make a dismissive snort.
“Must be true love.”
Garrett narrows his eyes. “What I do with my life is none of your goddamn business. So why don’t you quit bitching and let me get back to sleep.”
I blink, thrown by the sudden change in his tone. “I’m not the one standing around giving me a hard time,” I retort. “I’d be asleep by now if you hadn’t come prowling around, trying to play hero.”
“Whatever you say, darlin’.” Garrett turns away and starts climbing the stairs. Then he pauses, turning back to me with a wicked grin, and says, “But you might want to wear earplugs. Lorna likes it loud.
Additional Teasers
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Beachwood Bay Series
Book 0.5 Emerson Ray is trouble. Juliet knows it the minute she lays eyes on Beachwood Bay's resident bad boy. Forced to spend her summer before college in the sleepy beach town, she never expected to crash into the most devastating guy she’s ever met—or for Emerson’s blue eyes to strip through her dark secrets, and make her feel a desire she’s never known. Their connection is undeniable, but Juliet is torn. She knows, once she gives him everything, there’ll be no turning back. Juliet McKenzie is dangerous. Emerson can tell from the way she blows through all his defences, laying bare the demons he’s carried alone all his life. He’s left a trail of broken hearts and empty beds in his wake, but Juliet is different. Her innocence is intoxicating—and the passion she keeps hidden, just below the surface. He wants to be the only one to set it free, but with every kiss, he’s closer to losing control and doing the one thing he swore he never would: fall in love. One summer. Two damaged hearts. Their story is only just beginning… | Book 1 "Mom always told me there are two kinds of love in this world: the steady breeze, and the hurricane. Emerson Ray was my hurricane...." Juliet McKenzie was an innocent eighteen-year old when she spent the summer in Beachwood Bay—and fell head over heels in love with Emerson. Complicated, intense Emerson, the local bad boy. His blue eyes hid dark secrets, and just one touch could set Juliet ablaze. Their love was demanding and all-consuming, but when summer ended, tragedy tore them apart. Juliet swore she’d never go back, and she’s kept that promise… Until now. Four years later, Juliet’s done her best to rebuild the wreckage of her shattered life. She’s got a great boyfriend, and a steady job planned after she graduates. Returning to Beachwood to pack up her family’s beach house to prepare it for sale, Juliet is determined that nothing will stand in the way of her future. But one look from Emerson, and all her old desire comes flooding back. He let her go once, but this time, he’s not giving up without a fight. And Emerson fights dirty. A heartbreaking history. An unstoppable passion. Torn between her past and future, Juliet struggles to separate love from desire. But will they find a way to overcome their tragic secrets—together? And after so much damage has been done, can a love remain unbroken? | Book 1.5 It's the last night of summer in Beachwood Bay, but for Brit and Hunter, it's only the beginning … She is: rebellious, wounded, free. He is: handsome, searching, enchanted. One night. Two restless hearts. But what happens when morning comes? A tantalizing new novella from the internationally best-selling Melody Grace. *Untamed Hearts is set 3 years before the events of Unafraid. It can be read before, after, or as a stand-alone novel.* |
Books 2 & 2.5
 The first time I saw her, I knew this girl was wilder than any stallion I’d ever trained. She was headstrong, wounded, passionate and free. And I had to have her…” Brittany Ray doesn’t care about her bad reputation. Growing up in a sleepy beach town with a junkie mom and a runaway dad, Brit’s learned the hard way that the people you love will only let you down. It’s no use hoping for love or happiness. Some dreams aren’t meant for girls like her. Hunter Covington is one of those dreams. Gorgeous, charming Hunter is damn near perfect—and it’s killing him. Son of Charleston royalty, he’s been trapped in a gilded cage since the day he was born. Now he’s breaking free. He’s quit law school to restore his grandpa’s old horse ranch, trying to soothe the demons in his soul. But Beachwood Bay is full of old ghosts, like the mysterious girl who spent an unforgettable night with him—and then slipped away before dawn. Brit. Everything about her screams danger, but Hunter doesn’t care: he’s never felt a connection so deep. And try as she may, Brit can’t resist the desire consuming her —or the safety she finds in Hunter’s arms. A reckless passion. An undeniable bond. Scarred by their pasts, Brit and Hunter fight to heal old wounds. But will dark secrets tear apart their new beginning? And when love is the biggest risk of all, can they find the courage to face the future unafraid? |  You are invited to join friends and family in Beachwood Bay for the wedding of the year… Lacey James is wild, spontaneous and up for anything. Daniel Sullivan is careful, sensible, and mending his broken heart. It’s a match nobody saw coming, but when the unlikely pair get stranded together on the way home for the holidays, Lacey finds her long-term crush impossible to ignore. As the snow keeps falling, and a friendly game of truth or dare gets way out of control, Daniel discovers that the one girl he wants more than anything is the last person he expected. But when the snow melts, will their night together be more than just a memory? And will they make it to Beachwood Bay in time for the wedding? Anything can happen this holiday season! Fall in love with the latest installment of the internationally bestselling Beachwood Bay series by Melody Grace. |
Excerpt: Unafraid by Melody Grace
Book Two in the Beachwood Bay Series
“What was that look?”
I glance up to find Hunter watching me, a crooked smile on his face. My cheeks burn.
“Nothing!” I yelp.
He raises an eyebrow, teasing. “Tell me.”
I shake my head, blushing furiously. Damn my dirty mind, not keeping my thoughts under control.
“Not talking?” Hunter drawls. “Shame. I’ll just have to take a guess.” His eyes meet mine, a direct challenge. “You want to know if I’m still as good as I was three years ago.
Suddenly, the air goes out of my lungs. I gasp, shocked by how blatant he is, but dammit, even more turned on. “Whatever.” I roll my eyes, desperately trying to stay cool. “That night was nothing special.”
“Bullshit.” Hunter’s gaze drifts lower. He smirks. I quickly cross my arms over my chest. “You loved it.”
“It was fine, I guess.” I make an exaggerated shrug. “You were just a kid. You didn’t know what you were doing.”
“I knew enough to make you come.”
My legs go weak. Hunter is still gazing at my body, eyes roving over my flesh with blatant desire. I know I should say something, make some kind of protest, or deny his arrogant claims, but I’m caught, frozen in his naked stare and the sexy, forbidden words coming from that perfect mouth.
“So what?” I finally manage, my heart pounding in my ears. I don’t know what I’m doing, taunting him like this, I just know I can’t stop. “That’s no real achievement. I can come anytime I want.” I waggle my fingers at him in a wave.
Big mistake.
Hunter’s eyes flash with desire, and then he’s grabbing my wrists, shoving me back into one of the empty stalls until my back hits the wall. I gasp. “Not the way I do it.” Hunter growls, his jaw clenched with tension. “Not the way I make you feel.”
My pulse races, my gaze never leaving his. I’m trapped under his hold, Hunter’s body looming above me, a solid mass of muscle and power. “Well I’ve got news for you, darlin’. I’m not that kid anymore.” He leans closer, so his next words are only a whisper, the rough scratch of his voice sending a rush of quicksilver to my very core.
“I’m better.”
I feel a shudder of desire at the promise, but before I can catch my breath, Hunter’s lips capture mine in a punishing kiss.
I moan. If our kisses before were a lit fuse, this is the inferno, wild and demanding, and raging out of control. I arch up against him, straining at the grip on my wrists, but Hunter doesn’t release me. He doesn’t need to. His mouth ravages mine, totally possessing; his tongue plunging deep in my mouth, his body smothering mine. I’m powerless against the onslaught of pleasure, every last one of my protests obliterated under the thundering force of his kiss.
Jesus!
I moan into his mouth, desire consuming me with its raging flame. Hunter releases my wrists in answer, moving his hands to grip my thighs and wrap my legs around his waist. He lifts me off my feet as if I weigh nothing, slamming me down against a bale of hay and covering my body with his own. I shudder at his weight, pressing me down, overwhelming.
Hunter pulls back. “Take off your shirt.” He growls. I can only blink up at him, helpless. Can’t he see coherent thought is beyond me now?
Hunter’s expression darkens. “I said, take. Off. Your. Shirt.”
His words are slow. Deliberate.
An order.
I glance up to find Hunter watching me, a crooked smile on his face. My cheeks burn.
“Nothing!” I yelp.
He raises an eyebrow, teasing. “Tell me.”
I shake my head, blushing furiously. Damn my dirty mind, not keeping my thoughts under control.
“Not talking?” Hunter drawls. “Shame. I’ll just have to take a guess.” His eyes meet mine, a direct challenge. “You want to know if I’m still as good as I was three years ago.
Suddenly, the air goes out of my lungs. I gasp, shocked by how blatant he is, but dammit, even more turned on. “Whatever.” I roll my eyes, desperately trying to stay cool. “That night was nothing special.”
“Bullshit.” Hunter’s gaze drifts lower. He smirks. I quickly cross my arms over my chest. “You loved it.”
“It was fine, I guess.” I make an exaggerated shrug. “You were just a kid. You didn’t know what you were doing.”
“I knew enough to make you come.”
My legs go weak. Hunter is still gazing at my body, eyes roving over my flesh with blatant desire. I know I should say something, make some kind of protest, or deny his arrogant claims, but I’m caught, frozen in his naked stare and the sexy, forbidden words coming from that perfect mouth.
“So what?” I finally manage, my heart pounding in my ears. I don’t know what I’m doing, taunting him like this, I just know I can’t stop. “That’s no real achievement. I can come anytime I want.” I waggle my fingers at him in a wave.
Big mistake.
Hunter’s eyes flash with desire, and then he’s grabbing my wrists, shoving me back into one of the empty stalls until my back hits the wall. I gasp. “Not the way I do it.” Hunter growls, his jaw clenched with tension. “Not the way I make you feel.”
My pulse races, my gaze never leaving his. I’m trapped under his hold, Hunter’s body looming above me, a solid mass of muscle and power. “Well I’ve got news for you, darlin’. I’m not that kid anymore.” He leans closer, so his next words are only a whisper, the rough scratch of his voice sending a rush of quicksilver to my very core.
“I’m better.”
I feel a shudder of desire at the promise, but before I can catch my breath, Hunter’s lips capture mine in a punishing kiss.
I moan. If our kisses before were a lit fuse, this is the inferno, wild and demanding, and raging out of control. I arch up against him, straining at the grip on my wrists, but Hunter doesn’t release me. He doesn’t need to. His mouth ravages mine, totally possessing; his tongue plunging deep in my mouth, his body smothering mine. I’m powerless against the onslaught of pleasure, every last one of my protests obliterated under the thundering force of his kiss.
Jesus!
I moan into his mouth, desire consuming me with its raging flame. Hunter releases my wrists in answer, moving his hands to grip my thighs and wrap my legs around his waist. He lifts me off my feet as if I weigh nothing, slamming me down against a bale of hay and covering my body with his own. I shudder at his weight, pressing me down, overwhelming.
Hunter pulls back. “Take off your shirt.” He growls. I can only blink up at him, helpless. Can’t he see coherent thought is beyond me now?
Hunter’s expression darkens. “I said, take. Off. Your. Shirt.”
His words are slow. Deliberate.
An order.