About SIN WITH ME
The past she can’t remember. The secret he hides. And a love that’s worth risking it all.
After a devastating car crash stole both her family and her memory, Grace Stanton was left with no past and an uncertain future. Now Grace likes to keep things simple. No sleepovers, never date a guy more than a month, and never, ever fall in love. Which is exactly why Grace avoids Bad Habit’s lead guitarist, Brody Scott, at all costs. The green-eyed, sexy-as-hell musician has “trouble” tattooed all over him, and Grace isn’t taking any chances with her heart.
Brody knows he doesn’t deserve an amazing woman like Grace—her creamy skin, red hair, or that smart mouth that fuels his every fantasy—but there’s something between them that’s more than chemistry. Something real. He’ll just have to convince Grace that he’s worth the risk—and hide the secret that haunts his worst dreams. But when fate plays a cruel hand, Brody’s darkest sin suddenly threatens his last chance at redemption…and the life of the woman he loves.
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He groans. “God, it’s hot when you call me that in that stern librarian tone. It totally gets my sexy teacher fantasy going.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I’ll have to spank you with a ruler.”
He sucks in a low breath. “Oh, you’re an evil, evil woman.”
“And you, Mr. Scott, are a bad, bad boy.”
“Fuck. I’m gonna ruin these new sheets,” he mutters.
“I’ll leave you to it, then,” I say evenly, trying to keep the tremor running through my body out of my voice.
I hesitate. “What.”
“Say you’ll come to the party.”
I don’t respond.
He says, “Please.”
I still don’t respond.
He says, “Pretty please?”
“I can’t trust myself around you!” I blurt, and instantly want to punch myself in the face.
His tone gets all growly and gruff. “Because . . . ?”
I sit on the edge of the bathtub, close my eyes, and sigh. “Because I’m too attracted to you.”
Even his silence sounds confused. “You realize that makes zero sense, right?”
“It does to me. I don’t expect you to understand.”
“I would if you explained it.”
“Gee, hesitate a little, why don’t you?”
“Stop being cute, it’s aggravating!”
“Sorry, Slick, cute is my middle name.”
“Is this a bad time to ask you what you’re wearing?”
“Oh. My. God. I’m going to strangle you when I see you next!”
His voice brightens. “So you are coming to the party!”
He blurts, “How about this—think about this whole situation over the next few days—”
“Which whole situation, specifically?”
“Us. Me wanting you. You wanting me. You being a big wuss and not giving me a chance because I’m so scorching hot your panties melt off every time you look at me.”
“Dear God,” I grumble. “I’ve created a monster.”
“Ahem. As I was saying. Think about what you want to do here. Then come to the party, and we can talk about it.”
When I make a dangerous noise in the back of my throat, he quickly adds, “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it . . . you can wear something that will tell me what your decision is.”
“I think you were right when you said you needed therapy. Seriously, Brody, you’re crazy.”
He completely ignores that. “A green dress for ‘Go.’ A red dress for ‘No go.’ Whaddya say?”
“I say you’re nuts.”
“Good,” he says, sounding as if I’ve just agreed to his terms. “See you Saturday then, Slick.” His voice drops. “And please don’t break my heart—wear a green fucking dress.”
Then the bastard hangs up on me.
I open my eyes, stand, and stare at myself in the mirror. “We’re not going to that party,” I say firmly to my reflection.
She doesn’t look convinced.