Oblivion, on his band Warning Sign’s first tour. Until an overzealous fan goes
too far and his hard-partying ways catch up to him in the form of an ultimatum
from his manager, Lila Crandall.Clean up your image—or else.
Single mom Chloe Adams is in Vegas for a rare girls’ night out. She wasn’t ever
supposed to be attracted to another rockstar. In fact, she’s in rockstar rehab,
and the cure for her addiction definitely isn’t a sexy, smart-assed guitarist
with wicked fingers.
She never expects to accidentally end up his wife. Or to have her new husband
suddenly decide that she’s the solution to all his problems. And surprise…he’s
happy to show his appreciation in a number of interesting, inventive ways.
Pretending their marriage is real might just be the hottest proposition she’s
ever been given.
But what happens when a lie becomes the truth?
world of our Lost in Oblivion series! You never know who you’ll see show up in
Now it was raging.
The watery tones of the song seemed to infiltrate her skin. Her hips followed the silky rhythm as she lifted her arms. She closed her eyes just enough so the twirling lights became streaky trails dragging her away from reality. Her fingers brushed over crystals dripping off the overhead lighting fixtures of the bar.
She had enough vodka in her veins to ignore the fact that Michael Shawcross was at her feet. When his fingers skimmed over her calves and around to the backs of her knees, she opened her eyes and met his hooded gaze.
Silver winked from his eyebrow, and the shadow of a beard emphasized the angular lines of his face. He was absurdly handsome. Too attractive, to be honest. No man should be that delicious and be even remotely attainable.
Yet there she was. On the bar, with the calloused tips of his fingers dragging up the backs of her thighs.
She slid her fingers into his hair. The super short hairs sifted around her trimmed nails until she got to the denser wavy strands on top. Just enough to twist, so she did. She tugged his head back, pressing her knee to his shoulder.
He reached up for her, gripping her waist with his huge hands. His long fingers made her feel tiny. Wanted.
His eyes screamed hunger.
No. Not for her. He wasn’t for her.
So much the wrong type.
Too bad the crackling arc of attraction between them wasn’t freaking listening.
Her breath shuddered out as she slid down his body, her breasts rubbing against his firm chest. Muscles everywhere. The breadth of his shoulders wouldn’t allow her to encircle all of him. She held onto what she could, her toes dangling off the floor.
His lips were right there.
So close that she could taste the tequila shooter he’d just sipped off her flesh on his breath. The bite of lime would still be on his tongue. Her nails dug into his shoulders.
She wanted that lime.
Wanted his afterburn one more time.
She couldn’t remember the last time her skin had felt so tight and responsive. She didn’t want to question it. Didn’t want to play it safe.
Safe made no sense tonight.
She covered his mouth. There was no teasing between them. Foreplay had been the air between them, the lights and the music that followed him around like its own forcefield.
Power and haunting charisma drenched in charm.
She felt the hint of his smile before their tongues tangled.
Slick and dominant, he brought every want into the foreground. She’d believed the lies she told herself. That she didn’t need to be touched. She could live without passion.
Now she’d learned otherwise. The starvation diet never worked. As soon as she’d sampled off the forbidden tray, the craving had become all-encompassing.
music and men, so she figured why not write about both? When she’s not writing,
she’s screaming at men’s college basketball games on TV, playing her music too
loud or causing trouble. Sometimes simultaneously.USA Today bestselling author Taryn Elliott is
obsessed with rock stars, men, and her unending playlists–maximizing these
things seemed like a very good idea. When she’s not writing, she’s losing hours
to hot men on TV, and/or a graphic design project. Multitasking is her middle
They decided to combine forces and found that hey…this writing deal is even
more awesome when you collaborate with your best friend.