Saturday, 19 December 2015

Blog Stop: Stripped, Travesty #2 by Piper Lawson

 Ava Cameron has stars in her eyes. When the feisty designer moves to NYC after graduation with her best friend, things are finally clicking into place.

But now their brand new label, Travesty, is under attack.

The man leading the charge is the hottest hookup Ava ever had. One she never wanted to see again...

Nate Townsend might be from the right schools, the right neighborhood and the right family. But under the surface, his scars run deep.

When the society prince and the loud designer come face to face on a case that could decide Ava's future, sparks fly.

Nate's not about to let Ava forget she's the only person who knows his secrets. And Ava’s walking the line between getting Travesty back on track and being dragged into the gutter by one stubborn young lawyer planning to take her down.

If Nate Townsend didn’t make the gutter look so damn good...

I stretched forward an inch, breathing him in, then carefully touched my mouth to the corner of his. Any doubt about whether I was crossing a line evaporated as I felt his morning stubble under my lips. I’d crossed the line all right. Ran over it, naked, carrying flaming batons.
Guiltily, I tried to pull back.
The fingers at my hip slid further under the waistband of my pants, holding me in place.
We weren’t just close, I realized too late. We were really close. My nipples were tight from rubbing against his chest through the thin T shirt. The hardness of his body made me intimately aware of the softness of mine. His strong thigh slung over my hip held me down. At least he wasn’t—
“Did you just kiss me?” Nate’s voice was a sleepy groan.
Oh shit.
Why couldn’t I resist doing something impulsive for once?
“I—” I cleared my throat. “I didn’t know you were awake.”
His lashes raised enough that I saw slivers of blue beneath them. “I wasn’t. Some things are worth waking up for.” Nate muttered something I couldn’t understand, but didn’t release his hold. The hand on my lower back kept me against him, and the tighter he held me, the more I wanted to squirm. Squirming just made me rub against him more. It was torture.
Before I could say another word, think about what I could’ve or should’ve or would’ve done, I was on my back.
The air was squeezed from my lungs as Nate’s body pressed into me. I felt each part in turn. His hands pinning my wrists above my head. His chest resting squarely on mine. His hips and the awareness between his legs.
“What the hell, Nate?” My heart thumped wildly in my chest.
“Don’t tease me, Ava. If you’re going to kiss me, do it right. If you’re not …” He trailed off. His thumb stroked my wrist without releasing my hands. He must’ve felt my pulse explode.
His gaze moved between my eyes and my mouth. A dare.
I wanted his mouth on mine. There was no question. But …
I bit my lip.
He groaned. The sound went straight to my core, where I was already wet from pressing against him. “Every inch of you is telling me to take you right here,” he muttered. “The couch may not remember what we did here last year, but I sure as hell can’t get it out of my head.”
There wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. There wasn’t enough oxygen on the planet for the way he was making me feel with his mouth and his hands and his … Nate-ness.
“I should go,” I managed. As if saying the words could make me move toward the door.
“Don’t.” His hoarse voice was a command and a plea.
Before I could raise myself up, Nate’s mouth crashed onto mine.
His tongue pressed at the seam of my lips and they opened for him, wantonly.
Yes. As much as I was terrified to admit it, this was what I wanted. Not stolen, half-asleep kisses. This. Him on me, over me, showing me.
It felt like he was desperate to prove this was what we both needed. He lowered himself to one elbow, releasing my wrists so his hand slid down to fist in my hair. He tugged on the strands, tilting my head back to give him better access.
I was drowning in an ocean of sensation. My resistance was burned away by his touch, and my fingers crept under his T shirt. A whimper escaped me. Nate nipped at my bottom lip, sending shockwaves through my skin. I grazed my nails across his lower back, which made him flex his hips into me.
Nate dragged his hungry mouth down, running hot kisses along my jaw and up to my ear. Catching my earlobe in his teeth and teasing it with his tongue. Sucking it. I arched against him on a moan they probably heard in Brooklyn.
Somehow it felt better than last year. Because I knew him now, or thought I did. And I wanted to let him in. Let him everywhere.

I love reading and writing stories about sassy, sexy, smart girls and the guys who fall hard for them. My main household expenditures include books, shoes, and chocolate, not necessarily in that order. Coffee = life (and I’ll defend it accordingly, especially when cornered). I have two business degrees, neither of which I’ve managed to turn into a fashion label (boo).

Home is Canada plus sunny winter escapes. Feel free to stalk me @piperjlawson,, or write to me at piperjlawson(at) Hearing from you would make my day (for real – I’m not just saying that.)!

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