Book 6 in The Donovans series
A Sexy STANDALONE romance from USA Today Bestselling Author Nana Malone!!
There was one rule he couldn’t break…
Zephyr Donovan knew the sacred rule. Never date a student.
With the demons in his past, all he wanted was a fresh start. He wasn’t looking for trouble. But trouble tasted so damn good.
There are reasons for the rules…
Malia Adams had a complicated life. Well, actually it was pretty simple. Survive. Stay off the streets by any means necessary. And that was a nightly struggle. She didn’t have time to get involved with anyone.
Especially not the one person she can’t have.
Even if he is sex on a stick.
All he needs to do is stay away. All she needs to do is forget him. Looks like they’re both rule-breakers.AMAZON
Read an Excerpt:
Zephyr knew what he should have done. He knew what the rules were. He just didn’t especially give a shit in that moment. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t. She’d been standing there with her wide eyes, the moss green speaking to him, calling to him. Her lips slightly parted, and something in him shattered.
Yeah, dumbass. Your self-control.
Because the moment his lips touched hers, he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. Her lips were soft, and her tongue met his tentatively. It wasn’t until her hands tightened in his shirt that he lost full handle of the situation.
With a growl, he slid his hands into her curls, tightening his grip, angling her head so he could sink in deeper.
Malia parted her lips, and that angel that had been on his shoulder before, the one telling him he couldn't do this, the one telling him where the line was, well, the devil killed that angel.
One deep and stroking lick into her mouth, and that was that. Zephyr eviscerated the line.
Kissing the girl that he shouldn't want. Kissing the girl that he shouldn't have. Kissing the girl that put his future in jeopardy.
But he couldn't stop.
He didn’t mean for it to go so far. But she tasted so good. A little spicy from the pepper she’d eaten on the pizza. And a little sweet, like the cola she’d washed it all down with. Her hair was still damp from her earlier shower and she smelled fucking incredible.
The little mewling sound she made at the back of her throat just drove him further. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t process information. God help him, he was unable to make any kind of decisions right now. His synapses were fried. He’d scorched every single one of them with one lick of her tongue.
With a low growl, Zephyr backed her up against her door, bending his knees slightly and angling her just how he wanted. Finally, he just gave up the ghost and picked her up. His hands were on the back of her thighs and just like that, he hoisted her up.
God, she was so small. This worked out perfectly because then he could brace her against the door. And just—yeah, right fucking there. His dick pressed against his zipper, throbbing, begging to be let free. To seek out her heat.
Malia rocked her hips into his. And he couldn’t help but answer every roll of her hips with one of his.
Jesus Christ, why was she so—
The moment she scored her nails in his hair and over his scalp, the shiver of need went through the entire length of his body. And he couldn’t fucking focus. Jesus Christ, if they kept this up then he was going to fuck her against this wall.
Just take her right now and give two shits about consequences later.
His dick pressed against her molten heat, and she whimpered. All they could do was fight to hold on for the ride. The molten lava spread through his veins singeing the nerve endings. And when she rocked her hips into him, he bit out a curse.
He swallowed every single whimpered moan as he devoured her. He couldn't think, couldn't breathe. His hands gripped her ass and he dug his fingers into her flesh. He needed more. Wanted more.
The stretch of skin displayed by her T-shirt tempted him. Taunted him. He needed to know how soft she was. Just a taste and he could stop. One taste and he’d pull back.
The hell you will.
He slid a hand under the soft cotton. Oh, fuck, yes. Jesus, she was soft. His fingers skimmed over her skin, and she trembled in his arms. And he wanted to pull that kind of reaction from her all the time. When his thumb traced over the edge of her bra, she arched her back.
Don’t do it. You can’t do this.
The angel on his shoulder tried valiantly with one last protest. But the devil that had taken over his soul was having none of it. He traced his thumb over her nipple and her grip tightened in his hair as she rocked her hips.
Yes. All he wanted was her with her clothes off, in bed, with her beneath him, shouting his name.
A sharp, piercing ring tried to slash through the foggy haze of lust. But the need and tension managed to keep it at bay until it rang again … and again. What the hell?
Malia drew back, her gaze half lidded, her lips swollen and soft. He licked his lips, tasting her, wanting his lips back on hers again. But there was that ringing again, finally breaking through the ‘I don’t give a shit about the consequences’ haze.
Oh. Fuck. Him.
What the fuck have you just done?
Malia shook of the haze at the same time he did, clarity sharpening her gaze.
He released her and tried to step back, despite the tree trunk in his jeans. “Malia. I—”
Her fingers played over her lips, and she shook her head. She frantically tried to open the door behind her. When she managed the magnetic lock again, she, turned it and tumbled backward.
Shit. “Let me help you up.”
But she didn’t take his hand. Instead she scooted back. “No. I got it. I think it’s probably a good idea you don’t touch me anymore.”
She has a point there. “C’mon, at least let me—”
From where she sat, just inside her room, she scooted back some more, then very deliberately kicked the door closed with her foot.