I received this book for free from Author in exchange for an honest review.
This does not affect my opinion of the book or the content of my review.
Released: September 26th 2016
Series: Riverstone Estate #1
“…this story sucked me and had me reading non-stop.”
~ Under the Covers
Friends to lovers and second chances have never felt so angsty. I knew from the start that this relationship was going to be bumpy. Amber and Aiden have known each other their whole life. He was her childhood nemesis. She went on to marry their other friend Paul and was happy until one fateful night and one drunk driving accident takes her husband and her twin brother away from her. The only one to survive that tragedy and the only one she is left to blame is Aiden. Two years later he finally comes back in her life to stir feelings she long thought she had buried in her and that wild and reckless attraction she felt for him comes back to the surface.
I wasn’t expecting their road to be easy. There’s a lot of history there and a lot of heartache to overcome. But I admit I found Amber too hot and cold towards Aiden. She would let him playfully one minute then push him away with cutting words the next. He took a lot from her and kept coming back for more. The man really is a saint. His love for Amber borders on reverence. She can do no wrong and he still will take anything he can just to be near her, just to see her. Not caring much about his own life because in Aiden’s world, without Amber there is no life. As much as I found that incredibly sweet, when I step back to think about it it’s so crazy that I almost wish he would’ve grown a pair of balls earlier and stood up for himself a bit more.
But other than that detail, this story sucked me and had me reading non-stop. I really enjoyed the story, the backstory, the connection, the second chance at a love they never could explore but was always there bubbling under the surface. The happiness after the loss. I liked them a lot together which is why I kept getting angry with Amber at making things so difficult for no reason.
We’re introduced to a great set of supporting characters and I am looking forward to seeing their stories unfold!
“The dress will need to come off,” I tell her with a playful smile—I want her to feel at ease.
She turns to the side and unzips herself, reaches for the skirt of her dress, and pulls it over her head. She’s wearing a sexy pink lace bra and matching thong. I wonder if she slipped those on thinking of me. Or David? I wonder how long it would take me to rip it all off. She peeks at me through her lashes, still shy but aroused. Her gaze finally reaches mine, and it’s pleading, begging me to come to her.
I kneel in front of her. I desperately want to kiss her—she’s just so beautiful. But I know that if I kiss her, I’ll get lost in her and I’ll want to make love to her. She and I together is a very bad plan. Too much history there, and even after all we’ve been through, I can only see her as Paul’s girl. But right now, she’s just a woman who desperately needs to touched, and I’m the man who desperately wants to touch her. I trace the lacy edges of her bra with my finger. She’s breathing so hard her chest is heaving. I pull the fabric with a finger and tuck it under, revealing her breast. Wow. Her nipple is pink, hard, and begging to be licked, but if I go there, I won’t be able to stop myself. I know myself too well.
She closes her eyes again, and I take her in—her soft stomach, her sexy legs. I eagerly make my way down. I stroke her thighs gently again, and she opens her legs for me. She’s arousing me so much it’s painful. I trail my hand between her thighs where she’s wet—the soft fabric, what little there is of it, is soaked.
She throws her head back, her mouth open—she’s gasping for air. Finding her wet like this and wanting to be inside her so badly, is so fucking hard on me. I try to remind myself that this isn’t about me; it’s about her. As bad as I want to do all the things to her I shouldn’t be doing, I know I can’t. I’m on a mission.
I reach for the string of her thong and tug down. I’d planned to be soft with her, but I find myself being hard. She props her rear up and her hands press against the mattress, tangled in the sheets. As I struggle with the fabric, she reaches for it and pulls the thong down with me. It’s clear that she wants it off. In that moment, I forget all about myself. All I want to do is please her and make her come.
I’ve never seen her like this. I steal a moment to savour the sight of her small patch of neatly trimmed hair and tempting pink lips. I’m so hard as I slip my finger along her wetness, slowly teasing her. I explore further, up along her sex to her sweet spot.
“Your body is yours, Amber.” I know her. I know a big chunk of guilt is probably lingering at the back of her mind, and I just want her to let go of that and enjoy the moment. “No one has a hold on it but you. It’s yours. All I want to do is to make you feel good like this. It doesn’t have to be anything more. Do you want this? If you don’t, tell me to stop, and I will.”
She lets out a cry and squirms as I pull my hand away for a second. She doesn’t need to say a single word. It’s crystal clear—she desperately wants me to make her come.
Filthy images play in my mind as I imagine all the things I would love to do to her. I’d love her legs wrapped around my head. I’d drive her wild, taking her to the edge and swiftly pulling back only to wrench her hard against me again. I’d sink into her and get completely lost in her. But I can’t do all those things, as much as I would love to. I can’t take this too far.
I’ve been cruel long enough. I’ve teased her plenty. It’s just so amazing to finally touch her. I reach for her sweet spot and feel her hard clit on the tips of my fingers. She wails and spreads her legs wider. I’ll take her over the edge in a few seconds, but I selfishly want this moment to last forever. Watching her like this—panting, a perfect breast hanging out of her delicate bra, legs spread wide for me—it’s the most gorgeous sight. I pull away from her, greedy as fuck. I want to hear her cry, to hear her beg. She winces as I pull my hand away. She opens her beautiful eyes, silently asking me why I’m being such a tease.
“Close your eyes,” I order, and she does. I don’t want her to see what I’m about to do. I close my eyes as I bring my finger to my nose and inhale her scent. It’s just as I always imagined. Then I draw my wet fingers to my mouth and taste her—so, so sweet.
“Please,” she begs. “Don’t stop.”
It’s just what I need to hear. With just another sweep or two of my fingers along her slick sex, she arches her back off the bed, opens her beautiful eyes to look at me again, and I finally make her come.
Seeing Amber, who is always so contained, so put-together, so perfect, get lost under my touch is unbelievable. The sight of her tiny hands grasping my mattress, her beautiful mouth wide open, the sweet sound of her cries bouncing off my walls—it’s almost too much. I’ve dreamed about this scenario dozens of times, and the real thing is even better than it ever was in my imagination.
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