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On the roof of a house outside Truelove, Maine, master carpenter Max Doyle looks down through a skylight and sees the most beautiful woman he’s ever laid eyes on. She’s naked, she’s gorgeous, and everything about her is perfect, down to the ball-busting tattoo of a rose that wraps around her hip. But it isn’t just any woman making his knees buckle. It’s his best friend, Rosie Madden. And as he stands there, mesmerized and precariously close to toppling off the roof, he knows he’ll never, ever be able to look at her the same way again.

Rosie can’t help but notice that Max is suddenly acting very strange—lots of long stares, totally tongue-tied, and not at all like the slightly cocky hunk she’s proud to call her best friend. She can’t figure it out, until later that night when Max rescues her from the world’s worst date, challenges her to a game of pool, and shows her just exactly what she’s got him thinking about. Repeatedly.

But life is complicated. Rosie’s cat, Julia Caesar, wants to eat Max’s dog Cupcake for an afternoon snack. A dream job threatens to pull them apart. And another glance through the skylight changes everything, one more time. Yet try as they might, they can’t go back to being just friends, because falling in love with the one you’ve always adored?

It feels so good.


Nicola Rendell

Expected Release Date: 7 August 2017

Book Series: 

From the author of two of my favourite Romantic Comedies ever—Hail Mary and Just Like That—comes a brand new friends-to-lovers romance, and I have a sneak peek for you! But be warned, it is very VERY steamy.

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Chapter 8


Max was an alpha, and I’d always known that. His default resting expression looked like a pissed off bouncer at a club where you had to have a special handshake to get in the door, and you didn’t know the handshake. He never used two words when he could use one. He was aggressive, and loyal, and quick to use his fists. I remembered him getting in schoolyard brawls when we were younger, to defend kids who were too scrawny to defend themselves. More than all that, he was also a sweetheart, at least to me—he didn’t show that to anybody else. It was like I knew the dark side of his moon. But now, his aggression coming at me, unchecked and hard-charging.

It was ahhhhhhhmazing.

He caged me in underneath him, his hands to my ass, and pressed into me. I sank my teeth into his shoulder, and he took me even harder. He didn’t go slow this time—it was like he couldn’t, like he was nothing but instinct and need. As he drove into me, my back arched right up off the mattress, and he held me close to him. I clung to him hard, keeping my thighs so tightly clasped that they trembled. I wasn’t petite, not by any measure. But he made me feel small—that’s how he took over. Like a boss. He slipped his hand underneath the curve of my back so that when the roll of pleasure let me relax and I came back down onto the sheets, my pelvic bone was tilted up toward him. Everything felt even better than before.

With each drive, the headboard smacked the wall behind us. Pound, thump. Pound, thump. I found myself pressing my hand to the wood to quiet the noise so I could focus on him, and only him. But it didn’t work. Pound, thunk. Pound, bang. But as he powered into me with another thrust, this one so intense that I really did feel my eyes roll back into my head, the thump changed to more of a…crumbling noise. And it was then that I felt something…powdery, almost. And it was coming down on top of us.

I looked up, and I realized he was taking me so hard that he was cracking the plaster. He was breaking the house. That was how passionate he was. It came down on us like fine sand, and a bigger crumble landed on the edge of the headboard.

“Wall…cracking,” I gasped, because it was all I could manage between the mind-blowing drives.

Max looked up, but had no response. With one quick tug, he yanked me out of the line of the dust, into the middle of the mattress, so my head was off the pillows. He put his forearm in its place, a perfect fit under my neck. Deep inside me, he paused for a second. He moved my hair off my check, he sank down as if for a kiss, but didn’t kiss me. Lips touching, no kissing. “Fuck this house. Fuck everything. Fuck the world. Fuck everything but you.”

I squeezed down on him hard. “Or maybe fuck me especially.”

He groaned and put the Y of his thumb and forefinger under my jaw. “Dirty talk. But you look so sweet.”

I rolled my belly to make him shift inside me. “Not sweet.”

“Not fucking sweet at all.”

He planted his knees and drew me up to sitting in his lap, my legs hooked around him, my ass to his massive thighs. He plunged into me so deeply that all I could do was roar.

He licked along the line of my throat, and his scruff scratched the cool line he’d left with his tongue. When he got to my ear, he turned my face to the side. He tugged at my earring with his teeth until the back slid off, and he let both parts fall to the mattress. “I don’t want to lose that,” I told him. His grip on my jaw was so tight, I could feel my own heartbeat against his fingers.

“I’ll buy you new ones. Hundreds of them. Spoil you fucking rotten until you’re insufferable.”

This man. How had I not seen this underside of him? This filthy gorgeous talk that made me so crazy? “I love you like this.”

“I love you like this,” he answered with a thrust. “I don’t want anything between us,” he growled, and then tugged at my earlobe with his teeth. “Not an earring.” He moved his thumbs to my lips. “Not a secret.” His other hand gripped my hip. “Not a strip of lace. Nothing.”

The words, the feeling, the overwhelming, intoxicating high that was Max sent me spiraling. The position was absolutely perfect, absolutely what I needed, and I started to feel the flicker of my orgasm take over, the first rumble deep inside my body. Max is doing that to you. Max’s cock. Max’s body. Him. It’s him.

“Oh Jesus,” I whispered.


Max. Your Max. He’s got you. He does. And he’s going to make you come so hard. I couldn’t even speak because I was heading so fast toward the rapids. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Again and again. Count on it.” He situated me a little higher so my clit was pressing against his pelvis with every drive from below. The hand that had been to my jaw moved down between us, the front of his forearm to my stomach. And then his fingertips met my clit.

Class-five rapids. Oncoming. No life vest. No turning back. My walls started to flutter, and my legs started to shake even harder. “Can I come?”

“Do it,” he said, putting a long kiss to my chest and then moving down to my nipples. I watched him in the moonlight, and as soon as he put his lips to the left one—oh sweet baby Jesus—his eyes closed, and that aggression washed away. Total peace, total calm. Total happiness because of me.

The flicker shifted to a tremor in my clit, and I felt myself heading into the falls.

“I’m going to let go for you, okay?” I knew it was my voice, but it didn’t feel like me at all. I felt him smile into my breast, and he nodded into me, but didn’t stop sucking, not even for a second.

His touch was perfect, like mine but better, and he made steady circles around my clit. Didn’t experiment, didn’t screw around with fancy stuff; he just gave me dependable, confident, continuous spirals that made my whole reality spin like a top.

“Come on my cock, Rosie. Do it. Now.”

With that, left became right. Here became there. The ocean became the forest. The leaves turned into the waves. I was diving. I was falling. Crashing through the rapids into him.

Chapter 9


Rosie came like a woman who wore naughty lace even when nobody was looking. She came hard, and she came loud. She came like a fucking queen. She didn’t whimper—she fucking roared. She gritted her teeth, and dug in her nails, and all I could think was, Naked was nothing. This was what I’ve always needed to see. It was tough as hell to stop myself coming as she did, but I needed to see how she finished before I pumped myself into her. I needed to see her all the way through it—until that happened, I didn’t give a fuck about myself.

The muscles of her neck tensed, and she held her breath between moans. Her pussy gripped my cock tight. I’d planned to get another one out of her, or maybe three. Except just that first one went on, and on, and on, like waves in high tide. From the way she writhed, from the way she stayed gone, I knew that they weren’t coming at her back to back; it was one long perfect orgasm, the most beautiful goddamned thing I’d ever fucking seen.

As soon as her wetness thickened, as soon as it slipped out of her and onto my balls, I knew I didn’t stand a chance of holding out. The full body writhes lessened, and she stared to come down off of it. She gripped her inner thigh with her hands, and dug her fingers into her own flesh. “Fuck. Fuck,” she growled. As her pussy unlocked from my cock, enough for me to think in actual sentences again, her legs fell open for me. I gripped her inner thighs hard, fingers on the wetness that had spilled from her pussy, and my precum, too. I gripped her hard enough to see the depressions where my hands were, outlined in shadow. I stayed inside her as she panted. I stayed inside her as she whimpered. I stayed inside her as she said, “Thank you, Max, thank you.” Only when she opened her eyes did I let myself start driving into her again—slowly at first, because I knew she’d be sensitive.

She blinked hard. “How can anything feel so good? How can anybody be so amazing to me?”

“You’re the amazing one, Rosie. I’m just here worshiping at the altar.”


She was in old-school missionary, but it was like I couldn’t get deep enough. I thought about putting her on her knees, but this time—this first time—I knew I had to look into her eyes as I came. It had to be that way, no fucking doubt. So to get deeper, to get every inch of my cock into her that her body would allow, I put her right leg between my thighs and pinned it down with my weight. Her left leg, I raised up so that her heel was past my shoulder. When I drove into her like that, she whined, this fucking desperate noise of pleasure that made my cock pulse in response. She turned her head, back and forth, and I watched her goddamned toes curl again. “You coming again?”

She smiled, eyes still closed. “Still coming off the last one.”

Fucking yes. She was confident, sexy, feminine in her movements in a way I’d never seen her be out in the world. Her gaze met mine and she raised her arms above her head. Then she brought her mouth to the skin of her inner arm and lightly nipped her own flesh, drawing that perfect silk back slightly between her teeth before letting it go.

“Fuuuuuck, Rosie.” I’d never seen anything so hot in my whole fucking life.

Hotter than her actual body was the way she acted about it. Like she knew she was a bombshell, knew she was right off the charts. I loved it, and I wanted to punish her, not because she was so beautiful, but because she’d never let me see this beauty before.

I drove into hard again so that the bed whacked the wall. The head of my cock, engorged from edging back and forth through her orgasm, made the tip even more sensitive than usual. She squeezed, and I pounded her with everything I had. The fucking plaster sprinkled down, but the house could’ve come down around us and it wouldn’t have made shit for difference to me.

“I’m gonna come inside you unless you stop me,” I told her.

Her hand gripped my knee, and she nodded.

“You better be sure,” I told her as I felt my balls tighten up, slapping against her ass, almost painful with every drive. The good kind of pain, though. The pain that gets you where you need to go.

“I’m sure.”

“You want my cum inside you?”

“Inside me first and always.”

I gave her everything I had, and she took it like a motherfucking goddess. She squeezed me, she held me, and when I’d fucked her so hard that my balls ached, she filled the darkness with a whispered, “Please, please, please, please.”

And I filled her pussy with every last drop I had.

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This sounds so fantastic! I read my very first Nicola Rendell book – Hail Mary – a few weeks ago and now I want more. I’ve TBR’d all her books.

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