ADD TO GOODREADS

Jasper Storm…
Is he a White Knight or a Black Sheep?

Adrenaline junkie, speed racer, lives fast and fucks harder. With his mess of light brown hair, matching light brown eyes that just look like they could peg you where you stand, and a body that must make every female in his vicinity yearn for him, there is no mistaking him in a crowd. Charlotte would describe him as handsome. REALLY handsome. Maybe even handsome as hell. With a strong jaw and sensual lips, Jasper has a sharp profile. He is long and lean. He is everything she remembers from her childhood but the man he has become today….

Charlotte

The hand-written sign near the valet reads, “Be back in 5 minutes.”

Even standing beside Jasper for five seconds seems to make my heart beat double time. Five minutes will send it flying off the chart.

Needing to calm down, I take a step away and move to stand in front of him. “You know I can take a cab home. I’ll be fine.”

That killer smile is just too much. “I’m a man of my word, Charlotte. I told you I’d make sure you get home safely and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Heart still racing, I look up at him. He’s not like anyone I know, yet he’s so much like the Jasper I knew at eight years old. Without a second thought, I push the toe of my sandal against his shoe. It was something I did all the time when we were kids. “I don’t remember you being so bossy.”

Both of us feeling better, the heavy mood seems to have shifted between us to something a little lighter, and he raises a brow. “I’ve changed a lot over the past twenty years.”

Boy, he’s not kidding.

Chewing on the inside of my cheek, I want to respond with a yes, you have, but I don’t.

That seems too flirty.

Instead I stare at my once best friend. At the light and dark of his chocolate-brown hair that is more than perfect. Thick and glossy, he no longer wears it so much longer in the front that its bad habit of falling over his eyes is anything he has to worry about. Still, the way it sticks up in just the right places and allows for the perfect shape of his brows to be seen, his long, long eyelashes to be noticed, and the golden flecks in his eyes to mesmerize anyone they come in contact with, are all traits beyond perfection.

Oh God, my entire body tingles just looking at him. He has to be the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.

I shouldn’t be thinking this way.

Not about him.

And especially not after everything that has transpired today. This must be some kind of coping mechanism that I need to get under control.

Yet when he leans forward and his male scent assaults me, all of my sanity goes right out the window, along with my control.

Trouble.

Trouble.

Trouble.

In that moment his eyes capture mine, and for one second I think he’s going to kiss me. I tense. My pulse pounds as I wait with both desire and uncertainty. Wait for the brush of his mouth against mine. The wet slide of his tongue. The exhilaration of my fingers threading through that hair from his forehead all the way back to his neck. His stubble razor sharp against my soft flesh. His hands rough on my hips.

“Let me hold that for you,” he says.

Blinking rapidly, I realize he is reaching to take the bag from my hand and not to kiss me.

I should feel relieved. 

I don’t.