Title: Zane, book
3
Series: Inked Brotherhood (Book
3)
Author: Jo
Raven
Genre: Contemporary New Adult Romance (steamy) /
lickable angsty romance
Blurb:
They
call me Zen-man, the cool-headed one, the protector. I keep an eye out for
everyone, taking them in, finding them homes. They think I’m the calm and
collected one, the self-assured one, the one who knows the way. They think they
see me. They think they know me.
But
they’re all wrong, because inside I’m broken. I have a jagged hole in my soul I
can’t fix, a festering blackness. I’ve been to the pits of hell and nobody
comes back unscathed. Life in foster care fucked me up, and now a thread is all
that’s holding me together.
So I
sleep around and never date, keeping chicks away. One day I’ll snap, and when I
do, there’s no telling who I might take down with
me.
All
the same, there’s this one girl who won’t be scared away. Dakota. She’s hot and
I won’t deny I want her. But she keeps coming back, needling me, trying to get
me to talk, to open up to her.
She
has no idea she’s playing with fire. When the demons come, she’d better be far
away from me, just like everyone else.
Add Zane to your TBR:
Zane Excerpt
Zane’s here.
He’s
standing with his back to the wall, arms folded over his broad chest, his
slanted eyes on me, hot and intense. His Mohawk is tall as ever, and the silver
studs in his ears and the hoops in his brow glint. I scan him from his exotic
face to the faded black T-shirt stretched over his pecs, down to his ripped
jeans, and I struggle for breath.
Gah.
He’s too handsome to be real. Too handsome to be interested in me. And yet here
he is, and I can’t miss the bulge on the front of his jeans. He’s obviously
hard, and the realization makes me feel hot. The tips of my breasts tighten
painfully.
What
is it about this boy that makes me lose my train of thought? Deciding I want to
break through his defenses is one thing—but what he does to my body even with
one look should be illegal.
“You
came,” I blurt, and instantly wish I had swallowed my tongue
instead.
He
cocks his head to the side, eyes heavy-lidded. “Almost,” he whispers, and oh
God, the boy is sexy as hell. “You have an awesome voice. Never heard anything
like it.”
My
face flames. “Thanks.”
I
step off the stage, and he grabs my hand, steadying me. His fingers are
callused and warm, his grip like steel.
“Hey,
Koko, you okay?” Luke calls out.
“Fine. Just need a moment backstage.
Yeah?”
“Koko?” Zane arches a dark brow at me.
“Yeah, the guys call me that.”
“I
prefer Dakota.”
God,
me, too, especially when Zane is speaking it in his low, warm
voice.
Besides… ‘Koko’ brings back too many bad memories. I’m not
that girl anymore, the girl who trusted Collin with her life and almost died
for it.
I
head toward the small backstage room, and he doesn’t release my hand. He
follows me inside and closes the door, then turns the
lock.
Before I ask what he’s doing, he slams me back against the
wall, his muscled body pinning me, so that I feel every defined ridge and plane
of his chest. He’s breathing hard.
Speaking of hard… The rod of his erection is trapped sideways
inside his jeans, and its heat seeps through the fabric, branding my
flesh.
“What
are you doing to me?” he breathes, his strong hand trailing down my neck and
slipping the strap of my blouse off my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing
to me?”
I
should stop him, but his fingertips send electric shocks down my spine. He
lowers his face toward me, and my lips part in anticipation. He’s going to kiss
me, I think, as his breath brushes the corner of my mouth—but he doesn’t. He
trails his mouth over my cheek, along my jaw, under my ear. The touch of his
lips—hot and soft—tortures me, arousing me more and more, as he bares my
shoulder, and draws patterns on my skin.
I
struggle to swallow a moan, my nipples pressed against his chest, tiny
pinpricks of pain and pleasure. His hand tangles in my hair, tipping my head
back for better access, and his mouth brands my neck, sending electric
discharges right into my core. Fire coils low inside of
me.
Oh
God, I think I’m about to come just from his lips on my neck and his fingertips
on my shoulder. I have to do something to stop him. Stop
myself.
I
place my hands on his chest. “Ink me, Zane,” I
whisper.
His
mouth leaves my neck, and when he looks down at me, his eyes are so dark with
need they seem black. His breathing is ragged.
“Don’t.”
“I
want it.” It’s more than a game now, more than familiar teasing. I need his
touch so much it’s scary as hell. I’m throbbing everywhere, and I feel wet
between my legs. This has never happened to me before. It’s as if the ground
has been yanked from under my feet. It’s like freefall, and I hate
falling.
“Tell
me what you want.” He braces an arm on the wall by my head and licks his lips.
He doesn’t kiss me. Why won’t he kiss me?
“You
know what I want,” I say.
He
leans closer again, his male musk scent surrounding me, and how can I think
straight when my hands are on his rippling abs, his mouth is inches from mine,
and his hardness keeps pressing into my belly?
Author
Bio
Jo
Raven writes New Adult erotic romance. She loves sexy bad boys and strong
willed heroines, and divides her time between writing and reading. When not
cooking up plots, she putters in her cluttered kitchen and dreams of traveling
to India and Japan.
Links to stalk Jo
Raven:
Other books in the
series:
Asher:
Tyler:
Amazon CA: http://amzn.to/1t4ATvA
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