Kristen Ashley’s Avenging Angels series continues next week with another unputdownable tale of friendship, family found, and badass besties, and I have a little sneak peek for you. Harlow and Javi’s story squeezed my heart in all the right places, and brought me to tears on more than one occasion. I can’t recommend it highly enough.
Excerpt
Falling into this fantasy at seeing Javi sleeping so peacefully, it didn’t occur to me that we’d apparently had one weird date after a lot of dancing around each other, this ending with Javi lashing out at me, something we hadn’t yet fully processed, and now we’d slept in the same bed together…twice. And neither time had I known it was happening.
No, that didn’t occur to me.
Happily ensconced in my fantasy for Javi, I didn’t think of that.
I also didn’t hesitate to do something I’d wanted to do practically upon meeting him: reach out a hand in order to trace the perfect arch of his thick, dark brow.
But I gasped when my hand was still several inches away and Javi’s eyes shot open just as his fingers caught my wrist in a punishing grip.
It was then I watched as the weight of the life he’d led settled immediately on his features, and into my consciousness. This came from the strength of his grasp of my wrist, not to mention the speed with which he caught it, and the clear demonstration of the latent instincts that came to the fore instantaneously when he sensed something was on approach when he was vulnerable.
Right then and there, in his bed, staring into eyes that had not even an iota of sleep lingering in them, my heart shriveled in my chest as the wholeness of his life, and the devastation of it, settled into me.
His grip loosened, his eyes grew lazy, and he pressed my hand to his bare chest as he muttered, “Sorry, baby.”
He had nothing to be sorry for.
But me?
I couldn’t fight it anymore.
It wasn’t that I no longer had the strength.
It was that I no longer wanted to.
It was as if Javi read my mind, because as I scooched across the minimal distance his way, he tugged my arm around to his back, pulling me even closer.
Our bodies touched.
He bent his neck, I tipped my head back, he hesitated a fraction of a second, and in that fraction of a second, I pushed up, and our lips touched.
His were strong, insistent.
Mine were ready, willing.
They opened.
His tongue darted inside.
I whimpered.
And then, seconds into our very first kiss, I was on my back in his bed, Javi’s weight on me, one of his hands curled around the back of my neck, tilting my head, the fingers of his other hand finding the hem of my tee and diving under it as his mouth devoured mine.
It was a heady mix of too much way too fast and not enough after way too long.
I leaned into the latter part of that, arched into him and wrapped a calf around his thigh.
He ground into me and growled in my mouth, his fingers gliding up the skin over my ribs to my breast.
He cupped it and swiped his thumb tight over my already-hard nipple.
A delicious electric jolt bolted through me, so fabulous, I couldn’t stop myself from tearing my mouth from his in order to release a needy moan.
With that, his fingers tightened on my breast in a hold so possessive, so branding, I opened my eyes and saw him watching me with an expression that was so possessive, so branding, my sex flooded.
With no choice left to me, I unhooked my calf from his thigh, planted my foot in the bed, and with every ounce of my strength, I heaved up and rolled him over so I was on top.
“Baby,” he purred.
If I had any restraint left (I didn’t), that purr would have done me in.
But as it stood, it just did me in.
I latched onto his head with both hands and kissed him, this time with my tongue darting into his mouth to take my fill.
He tasted so…
Javi.
Perfect.
On a delectable grunt, Javi closed his arms around me, one hand going up into my hair, pulling my ponytail holder out, making all my hair tumble down around us, one hand going down to grab a cheek of my behind in that possessive/branding hold I’d already fallen head over heels for.
I kissed him harder, lifting my knees to straddle his hips, and rubbed my girl bits into his very hard boy bits.
He groaned.
I delightedly swallowed his amazing groan and added trembling in his arms.
His hand at my behind darted up, taking the tee with it, then skated down inside my panties, skin against skin.
Mm…
Yes.
So much better.
I broke the kiss to moan again, but I didn’t get far since Javi caught my lower lip with his teeth, then we were kissing again, and that was such a hot, potent move, I mewed, melted and rubbed against him harder.
I was in the middle of completely losing myself in his kiss while beginning to wantonly dry hump him (though, with the state of my panties, it was more a wet hump), when, in a dizzyingly quick move, our kiss was broken.
Javi had knifed up to sitting, still holding me astride his lap, both of his arms tight around me, but his head was turned to the door.
“Sweetheart?” I called, confused as to what was happening.
At my call, his head whipped to me, and my breath caught at the look on his face.
Staggered. Gentle. Warm. Proud. Affectionate. Content.
Happy.
All of that, not at war. It was resting in calm accord on every inch of his features.
After I called him one single endearment.
Wow.
He really liked me.
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Avenging Angels - Recommended Reading Order
(standalone stories with interconnected characters)
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