Excerpt Blitz: Show Me the Way by A.L. Jackson
Show
Me the Way
"This
book is absolutely perfect.”
- Corinne Michaels, New York Times Bestselling Author
The first sexy, captivating,
stand-alone novel in the brand-new FIGHT FOR ME series from NYT & USA Today
Bestselling Author A.L. Jackson . . .
Rex Gunner. As bitter as he is
beautiful.
The owner of the largest
construction company in Gingham Lakes has been burned one too many times. His
wife leaving him to raise their daughter was the last blow this single dad
could take. The only woman he’ll let into his heart is his little girl.
Rynna Dayne. As vulnerable as she is
tempting.
She ran from Gingham Lakes when she
was seventeen. She swore to herself she would never return. Then her
grandmother passed away and left her the deed to the diner that she once loved.
When Rex meets his new neighbor, he
knows he’s in trouble.
She’s gorgeous and sweet and
everything he can’t trust.
Until she becomes the one thing he
can’t resist.
One kiss sends them tumbling toward
ecstasy.
But in a town this size, pasts are
bound to collide. Caught in a web of lies, betrayal, and disloyalty, Rex must
make a choice.
Will he hide behind his walls or
will he take the chance . . .
©
2017 A.L. Jackson Books
Tension roiled between us. That
tether pulled taut. Drawing us closer. I swallowed around it and reached for
the latch. He was quick to open his door, jumping out and rounding to my side
before I had time to step out of his massive truck. He helped me down, and his
hand scorched where he aided me by holding on to my elbow.
“Let me walk you to the door. Last
thing I need to be worried about is you here by yourself and some asshole
taking advantage of you.”
He quirked this belly-flopping grin
that pierced me like an arrow. “Unless of course that asshole is me.”
He barely angled his head to the side.
There was something so endearing and self-deprecating about it. Everything
about him right then was at odds with the surly, bear of a man I’d met weeks
ago, the man exposing himself, layer by layer.
I lifted my chin, both in strength
and vulnerability, tossing all the uncertainties and questions out into the
open. “Should I be afraid?”
“Yeah, you should be.” His response
was hard, but there was no missing the fact his irritation was aimed at
himself. He set his palm on the small of my back, helping me through the gravel
drive in my heels, an inch behind as we ascended the porch steps.
We crossed the planks. That tension
wound higher with each step until we were nothing but needy pants at my door.
Slowly, I turned around to face him.
His presence sent a ripple of energy
vibrating across the floorboards, the overwhelming sight of him the owner of my
breath.
He stood beneath the faint glow of
the hurricane lamp that hung outside the door. A sculpture of sinewy muscle and
raw strength, forged through years of obvious physical labor. Every inch of him
was rugged, from those roughened, callused hands to the crinkles set deep at
the edges of his eyes.
The man was a carving of pure,
daunting beauty.
“What exactly am I supposed to be
afraid of, Rex?” My brow twisted, and my voice quieted with the admission.
“Because when I’m around you, the last thing I feel is afraid.”
“I fuck everything up, Rynna, and
the only thing I’ve got to offer you is my mess. I can’t do this.”
Restraint rumbled in his chest, the
sound so deep I felt it shake the ground beneath my feet.
I gently cupped one side of his
rugged face. “I’m not afraid.”
It was a promise.
An appeal.
“You should be,” he grated. “Warned
you, my shit doesn’t ever end well.”
“Maybe that’s a chance I’m willing
to take.”
He groaned and he planted his hands
high above my head. The man panted above me, torn, desperate, his nose just
brushing mine. “God damn it, Rynna. God damn it.”
I felt the moment he broke. When the
thread pulled too tight and this mesmerizing man snapped. His mouth descended
on mine.
Overpowering.
Overwhelming.
Dizzying.
Lips and tongue and nips of teeth.
And those hands. They were on my
face. My neck. My waist. Somehow, I managed to hold on to him and spin away as
I fumbled with the lock. He pressed against my backside, his cock against my
bottom, and his mouth leaving a trail of fire at the side of my neck. We
stumbled into the darkness of my house, breaking apart as I turned to face him.
The only light trickled down from
the lamp I’d left on upstairs.
Slowly, he clicked the door shut
behind him. We stood there, two feet away from each other, staring.
Chests heaving.
Before we collided.
A tangle of tongues and bodies.
The man frantic, trying to touch me
everywhere.
“What am I doing? Fuck, what am I
doing?” he muttered incoherently, kissing me deeper. Madder. Wilder.
I pushed up on my toes and tore my
mouth from his so I could kiss down the strong column of his throat. His head
thudded back against the door, his entire body pressing against it as if he
needed it to keep him standing.
He grated my name, and I kept
kissing at his throat while I worked free the button on his jeans, hands
shaking.
Every reservation spun out of
control.
Out of reach.
It was only spurred further when the
defined muscles of his abdomen jumped and twitched beneath my touch, when he
mumbled, “You’re killing me, Rynna. Fucking killing me.”
Desire rippled from him in heady
waves.
And I felt so brave and bold, my
kisses brazen as I nipped at the hollow of his throat.
Before I could consider it—the
ramifications and the repercussions and the distinct threat to my heart—I
dropped to my knees.
I refused to think of anything but
setting him free.
Hoping he’d find a little of that
freedom in me.
Giveaway
A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.
Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, and BLEEDING STARS novels. Watch for A.L. Jackson’s upcoming novel, SHOW ME THE WAY, the first stand-alone novel in her brand-new FIGHT FOR ME SERIES.If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
Be sure not to miss new releases and sales from A.L. Jackson - Sign up to receive her newsletter http://smarturl.it/NewsFromALJackson or text “aljackson” to 24587 to receive short but sweet updates on all the important news.
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