Please join us in celebrating the release of All Things Pretty, the third book in the Pretty Series, by New York Times and USA Today bestselling author M. Leighton!
What we have for you today is an excerpt. It's not just any excerpt, we want you to find the pretty in the excerpt. Your guess at what the pretty is, will be your entry for the giveaway!
Ex: My mile high Louboutin's were killing my feet.
Title: All Things Pretty (Pretty #3)
Author: M. Leighton
Age group: New Adult
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Pretending to be something they’re not, afraid to trust anyone completely, destined to tear each other apart– this is the story of unlikely love and unbearable consequences.
Sig Locke is a cop. He was raised by a cop and all his brothers are cops. He bleeds blue, believes in right and wrong, and sees in black and white, never in shades of gray.
But that was before he met Tommi.
Tommi, with her long legs and bright green eyes, she captured Sig’s interest from the moment he saw her. Even after he discovered who she was–the girlfriend of a drug dealer, the beauty behind a criminal–he still found her utterly irresistible. What Sig doesn’t know, however, is that she has a secret even a cop can’t uncover.
Tommi Lawrence hasn’t had an easy life, and it only got more complicated the day she met Sig. She learned long ago that she can’t trust anyone. Her gut tells her that Sig is no exception, her heart tells her that he is. But that was before she found out his real identity.
Can love be forged in a fire of lies? Or will the truth destroy them both?
My body aches. Just at the thought of him.
I close my eyes, effortlessly conjuring Sig’s liquid brown eyes, his perfectly sculpted mouth, his big, slightly rough hands. God!
Almost of their own accord, my palms drift over my breasts, pausing to tease the throbbing nipples, just like Sig would do. Like he did. I recall the feel of his mouth there, hot and open. Riling my body into a flurry of want and need. My core responds to my thoughts, sending a gush of heat southward. I move my hands down. Farther and farther. Closer to the place where the ache is strongest, where the emptiness is deepest.
I cup my center as my mind elicits Sig’s fingers, his lips, his tongue, delving inside me. Filling yet not totally, satisfying yet not completely. Teasing. Toying. Making me crazy. He knew I needed more, craved more. He was just enjoying the rise, the climb, until he could drive his body into mine and quench this excruciating thirst.
But my touch isn’t Sig’s. No matter how tightly I close my eyes, no matter how much I concentrate, no matter how much I wish it were his, it’s not. It isn’t his hands or his mouth. His kiss or his scent. His laugh or his growl. I’m in my bathroom. In my home. Alone, for all intents and purposes. Exactly what I don’t want to be right now.
Frustrated, I pull the plug to drain the tub before stepping out and toweling off. Standing in the steamy room, I rub scented lotion over every inch of my hyper sensitive skin, groaning with my want of something more.
I wipe the moisture from the mirror and meet the wide eyes and flushed cheeks of my reflection. I’m startled by what’s written all over my face. Desire. Withering resistance. Increasing need.
I won’t be able to stop myself from giving in to him. I know it as sure as I’m standing here. He’s like an addiction that has crept up on me unawares and taken over. I’m smart enough to realize when I’m fighting a losing battle. I’m also smart enough to realize that if I go about this wisely, we can both put an end to the torture and move on. Just once. One and done. It’s the way it has to be.
Enjoy tonight. Move on tomorrow.
But we can have tonight.
Tonight will be for us.
And all that’s between us.
Just one night.
I stare at the same face, reflected now with subtle changes. Eyes bright with resolution, lips trembling with anticipation.
Once my mind is made up, I’m nearly frantic. I throw on shorts and a tee shirt–nothing spectacular since I don’t plan to be wearing it long–stopping only long enough to scribble Travis a note for when he gets home, telling him not to wait up and to call if he needs me. He’ll assume that I’m with Lance.
I don’t even bother pulling my hair out of its loose topknot. I simply grab my purse, lock the door and run to the car. I can’t get to his house quickly enough.
I’m out of breath when I make it to his door, knocking with all the urgency that I suddenly feel. When Sig finally appears in front of me, only a few short seconds (that felt like lifetimes) later, his expression is wild, like he was expecting something else. Trouble maybe?
His eyes meet mine, and we stand perfectly still and silent. He frowns for a second and then scans my face. His gaze travels over my flushed cheeks, my parted lips, down to my heaving chest. And then, as though he can somehow read my body and its intent, they flick suddenly back up to mine and stop.
For thirty second or so, a million unspoken things pass between us. There is doubt, indecision, a touch of fear. All on my part. In this moment, it’s driven home what a huge mistake I could be making.
On his face, one thing. A question. A single query. Can I walk away?
With my heart beating an ancient rhythm against my ribs, marking me with a tattoo that I will forever be left with, I bask in the richness of his eyes, the beauty of his face and the acceptance of my choice, whatever it is. It’s all here, right in front of me. Someone who wants only me, to please me, to be with me. Nothing else.
That is what I can’t walk away from. Not just yet.
Series reading order
All the Pretty Lies
All the Pretty Poses
All Things Pretty
About Michelle: I love coffee and chocolate, even more so when they are combined. I'm convinced that one day they could be the basis for world peace. I also love the color red and am seriously considering dying my hair.
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