Jackson Steele and Sylvia Brooks continue to thrill in the second novel of a scintillating, emotionally charged new trilogy that returns to the world of J. Kenner’s beloved Stark novels:Release Me, Claim Me, and Complete Me.
I never thought I’d lose control, but his desire took me right to the edge.
Powerful, ambitious, and devastatingly sexy, Jackson Steele was unlike any other man I’d ever known. He went after what he wanted with his whole mind, body, and soul—and I was the woman in his sights. One touch and I surrendered, one night together and I was undone.
Jackson and I had secrets, dark pieces of our pasts that threatened to swallow us both. We couldn’t outrun our demons, or the people trying to tear us apart. But in our passion we found salvation, and in each other’s arms we found release.
I was scared to trust Jackson fully, to finally let go. Yet no matter the dangers that lay ahead, I knew I was his—and now that we’ve laid claim, there’s no more holding back.
I never thought I’d lose control, but his desire took me right to the edge.
Powerful, ambitious, and devastatingly sexy, Jackson Steele was unlike any other man I’d ever known. He went after what he wanted with his whole mind, body, and soul—and I was the woman in his sights. One touch and I surrendered, one night together and I was undone.
Jackson and I had secrets, dark pieces of our pasts that threatened to swallow us both. We couldn’t outrun our demons, or the people trying to tear us apart. But in our passion we found salvation, and in each other’s arms we found release.
I was scared to trust Jackson fully, to finally let go. Yet no matter the dangers that lay ahead, I knew I was his—and now that we’ve laid claim, there’s no more holding back.
On My Knees is intended for mature audiences.
Read the first chapter of ON MY KNEES here!
“You didn’t tell me,” he says.
“The press. Calling you about me. You should have told me.”
I lick my lips, then lift a shoulder
in a small shrug. “Just a couple of calls when I went in to work
yesterday morning. The resort is their angle, so of course they’d
want a comment from the project manager, especially since Damien was
away.”
“You didn’t give them one.” His
mouth curves up, almost into a smile.
“Not one damn word.” Now it’s my
turn to grin. “You heard Damien. The official response is no
comment.”
“And if there was no official
response?”
I step forward to take his hand. “I’d
never say a word to them about you. About anything.”
He leans forward, resting his forehead
against my chest as he breathes. Just breathes. His skin is hot to
the touch, and I have to resist the urge to tilt his head back and
check for fever. I already know what is wrong with him. He’s
exhausted, mentally and physically. He needs to sleep. But I can also
see that he needs to get out whatever is on his mind.
So I stand there, perfectly still. And
I wait.
“I don’t like my demons pushing up
against you.” He sits up straight so that he can look at me. “I
don’t like you having to carry my shit.”
“I don’t mind.”
A muscle
twitches in his cheek. “I do.”
“Yeah? Well then you’re an
idiot, Jackson Steele.”
He lifts a brow in surprise. Frankly,
I’m a little surprised myself. But I forge on.
“Everything you said to me—about
helping me. About being there for me to work through all the baggage
that comes with what Reed did to me. All of that is important. And
just knowing that you’ve got my back makes me feel good. No, it’s
more than that. It makes me stronger.”
I kneel on the floor in front of him.
I’m still holding his hand, but I put my other one on his knee.
“Don’t you get it? I want to be there for you, too. I want to be
the one who helps make you stronger. Who helps you carry it all.”
As I speak, I realize I’m not even
talking about the damn calls from the press anymore. Those were
nuisances, nothing more. No, I’m talking about the bruises. The
fighting.
I’m talking about the fact that he
ran from me instead of to me.
And, yes, I know that I was the one
who fired him. Intellectually, I get that. Emotionally, I want this
man in my arms.
Very gently, I reach up and brush his
cheek, just beneath where the wound has split open again. “When I
told you what Bob did to me—when you learned about the nightmares
and why I pushed you away in Atlanta and the stories behind all of my
tattoos—you asked me if I’d ever seen a therapist.”
“You said no.”
“And you said that if I wouldn’t
talk to someone professional, that you’d be my therapy.” I take
the pad of my thumb and brush it gently over his lower lip, enjoying
this soft intimacy. “I want to be your therapy, too.”
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Praised by Publishers Weekly as an author with a “flair for dialogue and eccentric characterizations,” J.K. writes a range of stories including super sexy romances, paranormal romance, chick lit suspense and paranormal mommy lit. Her foray into the latter, Carpe Demon: Adventures of a Demon-Hunting Soccer Mom by Julie Kenner, is in development as a feature film with 1492 Pictures.
Her most recent trilogy of erotic romances, The Stark Trilogy (as J. Kenner), reached as high as #2 on the New York Times list and is published in over twenty countries.
J.K. lives in Central Texas, with her husband, two daughters, and several cats.
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