on December 17th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense
Buy on: Amazon
Don’t judge me.
I am not what you see.
I am the opposite.
—Nadia’s lipstick note on Bo’s mirror.
Indie-rocker Bo Lindgren is worshiped for his looks and musical genius. It’s been lonely at the top since his ex left. Bo will never take a girlfriend again though, because he doesn’t have the chops to love. He knows he’s poison, a heartbreak waiting to happen for anyone he allows too close—like his ex. Bo screws his way through the fangirls until he’s sick of it all. Until the dark gaze of Nadia Vidal appears in the door to his dressing room.
Saved from an arranged marriage by Jude, the love of her life, Nadia eloped and got married at nineteen. But now, two years later, life is wilted, dead, and not what anyone should have to endure.
Nadia, with her secret-keeper eyes and instant understanding of who Bo is, attracts and fascinates him without even trying. The ring gleaming on her finger should keep them apart, but morals can’t always resist destiny.
When brokenhearted meets heartbreaker, whose heart is really at stake?
I know who I am and what I’m capable of. Those bedroom eyes from the audience? They get to my wang, but they don’t get to me.
Nadia showing up at our last show made me ponder my relationship with my ex again. Year after year, Ingela looked at me with adoration in her eyes, while I, no matter how deep I searched, found nothing in my black, selfish soul. Over and over I hurt her because I couldn’t fake what I didn’t have—a goddamn heart. It’s why I stare out over the masses in arenas without the awe Emil’s face sometimes reveals.
I told Nadia that night; people don’t do it for me—music does. Just another way of being emotionally stumped, I guess. I haven’t looked into it closely enough to diagnose my condition, but I know I’m not a sociopath. Not a psychopath. Definitely not asexual—hell, sex is the only way I make a woman happy.
At the last thought, my mind returns to Nadia, and my dick twitches. Sex with her was insane. Not since I last slept with my ex over a year ago have I had sex that good. I was so turned on I couldn’t think straight.
It’s weird, because she wasn’t trying to blow my mind. There’ve been acrobatics involved throughout our tours—overflow Luminessence groupies with a limberness beyond anyone’s fantasies and swallowing techniques that can blow a guy’s mind. None of that came close to the simple, real, understated sex with Nadia.
The scent of her hair, the flower perfume or soap or whatever she’d used. Then the secret aroma of her pussy. It called to me, I swear. Great, and now I’m rock hard again.
Because I like her, the situation with her husband is starting to piss me off. Nadia is young. She’s wasting her life on some asshole who doesn’t appreciate her. She’s miserable, and you don’t need to be a rocket scientist to get that it’s his fault.
I’ve been that guy. In my case, at least I never married the girl, and I made love to her as often as she needed it. In my defense, I tried. I really tried to make it work.
From Nadia’s reaction to my slightest touch, I’d say she hadn’t been fucked in a while, and that’s just wrong. If she doesn’t turn him on, then her husband must be stumped.
And seriously: what kind of douchebag doesn’t care enough to call his wife when she hasn’t returned from a concert at nine—the morning after?
Yeah, me chasing this particular married woman might not be so absurd. If she’s game, I’ll brighten her day again. Make her understand how beautiful she is, how easy it is for her to make a guy feel horny as shit.
Hell, this is me paying back karma over Ingela. Right—good. That’s why I’m picking Nadia up from the restaurant right now.