By: Marquita Valentine
Releasing July 21, 2015
Fans of Abbi Glines and Katy Evans will adore Take the Fall, the first spinoff novel from Marquita Valentine’s New York Times bestselling Boys of the South series. In this emotional new romance, passions run hot as a rugged, brooding Marine rekindles an old flame.
As a teenager, Seth O’Connor went to jail for a crime he had nothing to do with. He took the fall to protect the girl he loved, but the cruel realities of prison hardened him. After doing his time, Seth shuts her out and enlists in the Marines—until his grandmother’s funeral forces him to come home and face Rowan Simmons once again. The woman she’s become puts all his high-school memories to shame, and Seth wants her more than ever. Can he be honest about why he denied her for so long?
After Seth pushed her away, Rowan swore that no man would ever hurt her again. But the boy who broke her heart has become a sexy Marine, capable of fulfilling her every desire—and now that he’s back in town, old feelings are simmering to a boil. Rowan wants to stay strong, even as her body surrenders to his expert touch. She only hopes that by taking him back, she can finally help heal the wounds that drove them apart
A
girl wearing a plaid skirt and a white shirt with the ends tied in
the middle of her very impressive cleavage steps in front of our
cars. The headlights shine right on her as she flashes a seductive
smile.
Her
hands shoot up into the air. “Ready?” she
shouts.
Tony
guns his engine, his maniacal laughter louder than anything. The
sound makes my skin crawl. Actually, Tony himself makes my skin
crawl. He’s twenty-nine years old and still hangs out with the high
school crowd—that’s fucking weird.
“Shut
the fuck up, Johnson,” Jase shouts, flipping the other driver off.
Then he turns to me. “Two turns left, then a hard right, before a
quarter-mile stretch.”
I
flex my fingers and nod. Jase cranks up STP’s “Dead and Bloated.”
“Go!”
Plaid skirt girl’s hand drops down.
I
hit the gas and manage to break out in front of Tony’s Camaro.
“No
braking in the turn,” Jase shouts.
I
nod. My knuckles are white as I grip the steering wheel. Adrenaline
pumping, I shift gears, and the Mustang shoots forward.
Jase
bangs on the dash. “Two car lengths ahead. You can do this,
O’Connor.”
I’m
equal parts exhilarated and terrified I’ll screw this up. What if I
lose?
“Get
out of your head, Seth. Nothing good in there right now.”
I
slice my gaze to Jase, and then back at the road. The hard right is
up next. “I got this.”
“Don’t
say shit like that,” Jase grouses over the music. If I hadn’t
been driving, I’m pretty sure he would have smacked the back of my
head to emphasize his point.
Tony
suddenly pulls up beside me, and I blink. “Where in the hell did he
come from?”
“Pay
attention.”
Tony
edges ahead of me. The right turn is only a few hundred feet away. I
let up on the gas a little and Tony surges. His taillights are in my
peripheral now.
“Why
the fuck are you slowing down?”
Because
Tony’s speeding up, and he’s going to spin out on the turn.
“Trust me.”
Jase
blows out a hard breath, and I can practically hear his teeth
grinding. If this doesn’t work, then Jase will hand me my ass. And
I like my ass; I like sitting on it. More specifically, Rowan likes
my ass. I like it when she digs her fingers into my cheeks when I’m
inside her.
“Fine,”
he bites out.
Tony
and I make the hard right. His car spins out, making a wider half
circle than needed. That’s my cue.
“See.
Ya.” I downshift and stomp on the gas pedal.
Jase’s
Mustang rolls across the finish line, engine purring. I barely pull
up the e-brake before jumping out. Banging the roof of the car, I let
out a yell. The crowd goes wild, some groaning because they didn’t
bet on the rookie.
While
Rowan collects the money we won, I do a little victory shuffle.
Jase
joins me, his smile as wide as mine, but he doesn’t celebrate like
I do. That’s fine with me; I don’t care how damn goofy I look or
sound right now.
I
just fucking won my first race. And Tony Johnson’s Camaro is mine.
Mine.
I
don’t bother to pay any attention to Tony as he parks his Camaro a
short distance away. He probably needs a little time to find the pink
slip to sign over to me and cry.
Poor
bastard.
Rowan
jogs to me, looking fine as hell in her tiny shorts and tank top.
There’s lace at the top, highlighting the best-looking pair of tits
I’ve ever seen. And by the way she’s smiling at me, I know I’ll
be getting up close and personal with them tonight.
“I’m
so proud of you,” she squeals, launching herself into my arms.
I
bury my face into her hair. She smells and feels so damn good that my
skin gets all tight. “Does this mean I can sneak into your room
tonight?” I whisper in her ear.
She
nods. “I’m gonna show you such a good time, lover boy.”
I
straighten, taking her gorgeous face in my hands. “You know I love
you, right? I’d do anything for you.”
Her
nose wrinkles, freckles dancing across it as she does. “I love you,
too, Seth.”
I
know she does, but sometimes it feels like the love I have for her is
like air or water—something I can’t live without. I have no idea
what I’d do if I couldn’t have Rowan in my life.
Die,
most likely.
“Fuck
you, Tony. I’m not a cheat.”
Rowan’s
head turns and so does mine. A few feet away, beside Tony’s car, he
and Jase are shouting at each other. Fingers are pointing and Tony’s
shoving against Jase’s chest.
I
start to go and join in, to see if I can help diffuse the situation,
but Rowan grabs my arm. “Don’t. Let Jase handle it.”
I
frown.
“Not
that I don’t think you can handle it,” Rowan quickly adds,
mistaking my frown for displeasure at her words.
“Don’t
worry about it,” I say, then kiss her forehead. “I’ll stay
right by your side until Jase needs me.”
Rowan
steps closer to me, wrapping her arms around my neck. She grinds
slowly against me, barely moving against my hardening dick. “I need
you. We could find a dark corner.”
Picking
her up, I head in the opposite direction, away from the crowd and the
argument. Rowan’s legs wrap around my waist. She kisses her way up
my jaw, stopping at my ear to nibble. My eyes start to water.
“Slow
down, wildcat.”
In
response, she starts sucking on my earlobe. Rough brick bites into my
hands when I hit the wall of an abandoned factory. Rowan tugs at my
shirt, helping me pull it up and over my head. I cup her breasts,
feeling her nipples harden.
“You
looked so hot driving,” Rowan breathes. “I want to ride you while
you drive us around. I want to feel you so deep inside . . . and the
vibrations from the engine will make me come so hard.”
My
heart slams against my chest. This girl . . . God, she knows how to
amp things up. “Tomorrow,” I promise. “You wear that skirt I
like and no bra. I’ll let you do whatever the hell you want while I
drive.”
Rowan
giggles and I smile, then stare into her eyes. “I really love you.”
“Why
do you keep saying that?” She tilts her head to one side. “I know
you love me.”
“Because
after my conversation with your brother, I—”
“FIGHT!”
“Oh
my God,” Rowan says, shoving at me. “Put me down.”
I
let her legs slide down, and turn. Jase and Tony are going at it.
Punches are being thrown and there are grunts, curses, and shouts.
It’s too dark and the guys are built too much alike to see who’s
whaling on who the most.
“I
need to—”
Rowan
hands me my shirt, and I kiss her. Hard.
“Don’t let that perv hurt my brother, Seth.”
Pulling
the shirt on and letting it fall, I stride in their direction, my
heart slamming against my chest. “I won’t.”
Marquita Valentine is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the Holland Springs and Boys of the South series, having sold more than a quarter of a million books around the world. She’s been called “one of the best new voices in romance” (Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews) and her books have been praised as “sexy, fun, and slightly addicting” (The Book Queen). When she’s not writing sexy heroes who adore their sassy heroines, she enjoys shopping, reading, and spending time with her family and friends. Married to her high-school sweetheart, Marquita Valentine lives in a seriously small town in the south with her husband, two kids, and a dog.