This unlikely getaway driver never expected to help the mayor escape…
After a six-year absence, Addison Potts is back in Charleston to stir things up. And what better place to make her villainous return than her estranged cousin’s wedding? Only, the nuptials hit a snag when the bride doesn’t show, leaving Addison to play getaway driver for the jilted groom. A groom whose heartbreaking smile and deep, southern drawl she should not be noticing…
Elijah Montgomery Du Pont is the future mayor of Charleston. From his military career to city hall, every detail of his life has been meticulously planned. Until now. His only respite from life’s sudden upheaval is Addison, his new, improbable best friend. She makes him happy. Grounds him. And public disapproval be damned, he’s not willing to give her up. But with an election on the line and public pressure rising, Addison—and the cruel hand of fate—might not give him a choice.
“Well…” I stop to clear the rasp from my voice. “If there’s no picture of us together, we should take one.”
“Good idea.” He crooks his finger at me, unwittingly sealing his fate. “Come here.”
I put my jacket on downstairs when I thought we were leaving, but I take it off now, simply letting it fall. “I want you in the mayor’s chair.”
His eyes stray to my pooled jacket, then tick to mine. “You what?”
“In the picture. I want you sitting in the chair.”
“Oh. Right.” He slides out the brown leather, high-back executive chair and drops into it. “What about you?”
My bravery slips. Whose wouldn’t? This powerful, gorgeous man sits before me, outlined by the city he’s been elected to run. His thighs are thicker than my waist, his sleeves caught up around his elbows. A strong man. A man of conviction who will not be seduced unless he really wants to be.
Or is driven out of his mind and can’t resist.
Before I can second-guess myself, I move between his outstretched thighs and ease myself onto his lap. “Addison.”
I send him an innocent look over my shoulder. “Yes, Captain?”
His chest rises and falls. Once. Twice. “Take the picture.”
The fact that I’m playing with fire stops psyching me out…and begins to excite me. Maybe it’s the gravel in his tone…or the big fists that come to rest on the desk. No…it’s definitely the way he presses his nose to my hair and inhales. As if I’m not going to notice. But I do. I do and it makes me braver. Makes me throb between my legs.
“The picture, Addison.”
“Sorry.” I lean across the desk where I set my purse, taking my time digging through to find my cell before pulling it out, searching for the camera app. All the while, his muscles bunch beneath me, harder and harder…and that’s when I feel it. His erection lifts under my backside, so thick and glorious, I bite my lip to stop from crying out. I want to, though. I want to sob at the proof that he’s physically attracted to me and at least I have that much.
My hands are shaking as I lift the camera, my instincts screaming at me to grind down. Elijah’s breath is pelting the back of my neck. Other than that he’s completely still, though. But when I flip the camera around to selfie mode and get my first look at his face, there isn’t a jury on the planet that would rule him unaffected. His eyes are closed, nostrils flared, mouth open against my hair. “You’ve got five seconds,” he says. “Take it, or—”
“Or what?” Elijah stands up and takes me with him, my ass pressed to his lap, feet dangling off the ground. As if I weigh nothing more than a child. It only lasts for a couple mind-blowing seconds, though, before he settles me on the ground behind his desk. His heat begins to leave me and I sense my chance slipping away, so I twist around to face him. Still mere inches away from me, he pauses with his head tipped forward, hands flexing at his sides. “We could be more than friends.” After easing myself backwards onto the desk, I snag his necktie and tug him closer, guiding his hips between my open thighs. “Just for tonight.”
His laugh is more like a rough expulsion of air, the scent of bourbon hitting me. “That’s not how things work,” he says, his palms scraping up my thighs, twisting in the hem of my dress. “Goddammit, Addison. You’re not supposed to tempt me like this.”
Tempted. He’s tempted. My blood cells crash together. “I don’t always do what I’m supposed to,” I murmur, leaning up to bring our mouths close, a breath separating them. “If I wasn’t your friend, would you kiss me right now?”
His eyes fasten on my mouth, seeming darker than usual. Predatory. “You felt what you did to my cock, sugar. You know the answer to that.”
About the Author:
Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days.
Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of ten years and six-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.