The sexy, breathtaking mystery continues in New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones’s stunning second novel in the suspenseful Careless Whispers series–where shocking revelations will reveal themselves and nothing, and no one, will ever be the same.
Still struggling with amnesia, Ella questions everything she’s known about Kayden Wilkens–the alluring stranger who claims to have found her unconscious in an alleyway. But was he truly a stranger–or did Kayden know her before his supposed rescue? Tormented by the potential betrayal he denies, with fleeting memories of a bombshell in her recent past, Ella must face a hard reality. Every action has consequences . . . and trusting Kayden, the one thing she most desires, might result in the direst consequences of all.
About Lisa Renee Jones
In addition to the success of Lisa’s INSIDE OUT series, she has published many successful titles. The TALL, DARK AND DEADLY series and THE SECRET LIFE OF AMY BENSEN series, both spent several months on a combination of the New York Times and USA Today bestselling lists. Lisa is presently working on a dark, edgy new series, Dirty Money, for St. Martin’s Press.
Prior to publishing Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by the Dallas Women’s Magazine. In 1998 Lisa was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.
Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at www.lisareneejones.com and she is active on Twitter and Facebook daily.
Find Lisa Renee Jones Online
Crossing behind the couch toward the kitchen, I find myself remembering those naked, intimate moments with Kayden only a short time ago. The passion. The trust I’d felt for him. And then his words: “We both want more. Until we don’t.” The words send a surge of adrenaline and nerves through my body.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee teases my nostrils as I reach the kitchen, where I immediately find Kayden standing behind the island. But it’s not him that makes my heart lurch, as usual. It’s my gun that’s lying on the counter between us.
And when I should perhaps step backward I find myself charging forward to claim the other side of the counter.
“What is that for?”
“You thought you needed it earlier,” he says. “I want you to have it now.”
My fingers curl on the tiled counter. “Do I need it?”
“That’s for you to decide.”
“That isn’t the answer I want.”
His jaw sets hard. “If you’re expecting an answer you’ll want, you’d better pick up that gun.”
We stare at each other, a push and pull between us that has nothing to do with fear or intimidation, and everything to do with a bond we both know is being tested. “I know what you’re doing.”
“What am I doing?”
“The same thing you did outside that church, when you helped me hold the gun to your chest.”
“Which is what?”
“Offering me the façade of control.”
“You holding a loaded gun on me in no way equals a façade.”
“I know you now,” I counter. “You don’t give up control, even when you say you are.”
He rests his hands on the counter, one turned just enough for me to catch a glimpse of the hawk inked on his wrist, its wings spread, the mark of a man whose rules of many must dictate his actions. “There are two sides to this coin,” he says, his words drawing my attention, his pale blue eyes piercing mine. “The me with you, and the me with everyone else.”
“We barely knew each other at the church.”
“I’d already decided you were mine. You just didn’t know it yet.”
“You are all kinds of tattooed hotness, Kayden Wilkens. Hawk.”
His lips curve. “Is that you talking or the wine?”
“It’s called liquid courage.”
“You’re adorably drunk.”
I stroke his cheek, which feels much better than mine. “But you’re here, and you are The Hawk and I know I’m safe.”
“You are safe with me, Ella.”
“I am, but you’re dangerous to everyone else.”
His expression sobers. “Is that what you think of me?”
“Don’t go getting serious on a drunk person. I didn’t mean that negatively—you’re everyone’s protector.” I grab his T-shirt. “I meant that the bad guys are in trouble when they piss you off. And I meant it like you’re a badass, thus the ‘you’re sexy’ comment. Wait. Did I say that or think that? I’m saying it now. You’re sexy.”
He flattens his hand at the small of my back. “Badass?”
“Do you know how badly I want to be inside you right now? Right here?” His hands go to my sides, traveling to my breasts, his thumbs stroking my nipples to hard peaks.
I grab his hands as my cheeks flush. “Too bad I wore jeans. You’ll have to behave.”
“Will I?” he asks, flicking my nipple.
I grab his wrists, firming my voice. “Stop, because yes, you do. I am not getting undressed in public.”
He reaches down and fingers the easily undone laces that line the front of my jeans. “I’ll settle for you having an orgasm until we get home.”
I reach for his hand. “I can’t have an orgasm in public, either,” I say, but my body betrays me, my sex clenched and wet.
“That sounds like a challenge—and this is barely public.” He pulls several of my laces loose. “I told Niccolo I couldn’t command you to orgasm. I want to try.”
“You can,” I assure him. “You can pretty much just look at me and I’m wet.”
“Are you telling me you’re wet now?”
“Very—so take me home and do something about it.”
His hand goes to my jaw and he drags my gaze to his.
“I never thought I’d use the word home again—let alone have a woman I want to use it with. I love you, Ella.”
“I love you too—” He slips his fingers beneath the laces and suddenly they’re intimately pressed to my sex. “That was unfair!”
“You’re not wearing panties,” he observes, slipping a finger inside me.
“And you are very, very wet.” His head lowers, lips at my ear. “I would kill to feel you around me right now.”
I pant, and my sex clenches around his fingers. “You’re about to embarrass me.”
“No one can see us.”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean—” He thumbs my clit and presses another finger inside me. “I’m going to come really fast.” He kisses me, a deep slide of his tongue, and oh . . . oh . . .