ABOUT LAST NIGHT Synopsis: Sure, opposites attract, but in this sexy, smart, eBook original romance from RITA finalist and USA Today bestselling author Ruthie Knox, they positively combust! When a buttoned-up banker falls for a bad girl, "about last night" is just the beginning. CathTalarico knows a mistake when she makes it, and God knows she's made her share. So many, in fact, that this Chicago girl knows London is her last, best shot at starting over. But bad habits are hard to break, and soon Cath finds herself back where she has vowed never to go . . . in the bed of a man who is all kinds of wrong: too rich, too classy, too uptight for a free-spirited troublemaker like her. Nev Chamberlain feels trapped and miserable in his family's banking empire. But beneath his pinstripes is an artist and bohemian struggling to break free and lose control. Mary Catherine--even her name turns him on--with her tattoos, her secrets, and her gamine, sex-starved body, unleashes all kinds of fantasies. When blue blood mixes with bad blood, can a couple that is definitely wrong for each other ever be perfectly right? And with a little luck and a lot of love, can they make last night last a lifetime? Includes a special message from the editor, as well as excerpts from these Loveswept titles: Because of You, Ride with Me, and Midnight Hour.
- A 2013 finalist for the RITA award in contemporary single-title romance from Romance Writers of America
- A 2012 Reviewers' Choice Best Book Award nominee in the "Contemporary Love and Laughter" category, Romantic Times magazine
- A Library Journal Best Ebook Romance of 2012
- A Reviewers Choice Award 2012 Pick, All About Romance
- A Best Contemporary Romance 2012 nominee at The Romance Reviews
- A 2013 DABWAHA nominee
ABOUT RUTHIE KNOX: USA Today bestselling author Ruthie Knox writes contemporary romance that’s sexy, witty, and angsty—sometimes all three at once. After training to be a British historian, she became an academic editor instead. Then she got really deeply into knitting, as one does, followed by motherhood and romance novel writing. Her debut novel, Ride with Me, is probably the only existing cross-country bicycling love story. She followed it up with About Last Night, a London-set romance whose hero has the unlikely name of Neville, and then Room at the Inn, a Christmas novella—both of which were finalists for the Romance Writers of America’s RITA Award. Her four-book series about the Clark family of Camelot, Ohio, has won accolades for its fresh, funny portrayal of small-town Midwestern life. Ruthie moonlights as a mother, Tweets incessantly, and bakes a mean focaccia. She’d love to hear from you, so visit her website at www.ruthieknox.com and drop her a line. LINKS: Website: http://www.ruthieknox.com/home/ Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/RuthieKnox Twitter: http://twitter.com/#!/ruthieknox ABOUT LAST NIGHT Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/13414764-about-last-night?bf=500&from_search=true Ruthie KnoxGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5308032.Ruthie_Knox
Stepping out onto the sidewalk,
he wraps me in his arms and lifts me off the ground. “I was beginning to worry that you were
having second thoughts.” He nibbles on
my earlobe as he whispers in my ear.
“Never” is my only reply as he opens the door and helps me into the car. I give him the address and he relays it to the driver before closing the panel between the front seat and us.
“Are you sure we haven’t met before?” He tips my chin up to look into my eyes.
“No, I don’t think so. But everything about you does seem familiar like déjà vu or something.” I run my hands up his thigh to cup his growing erection.
“Well, sweetheart,” he says leaving a trail of kisses down my neck, “when I see something I want, I tend to take it.” His lips set fire to my skin. “But perhaps introductions are in order before we arrive at your apartment?”
“If you don’t mind, I’d rather just keep it anonymous. I’ve been so wrapped up in life for the last few years that I need a night to let go.” To forget, I think to myself. “Please. For tonight?”
“For tonight? Sure, but I can pretty much guarantee I’m going to want to see you again so after tonight, we’ll have to talk. There’s no way I’ll be able to get the taste of your sweet skin out of my head.”
As much as I wish that this could be more than one night, there’s no way it’ll be any more than this. I would’ve thought it would make me feel cheap to give myself to a man I hardly knew because despite the past, I barely know him. Being with him though, I’m overcome with a sense of peace. A sense that, at least for tonight, I’ll be in arms that will protect me from all the evil, which constantly threatens to catch up with me. As we near the building, I find myself longing for that protection and security more and more.
This is dangerous ground to tread on. Bringing my past way too close to my present but I have to have him. I just need to keep reminding my head and my heart that after tonight we’ll just be nameless strangers to one another. And I have to be okay with that if I’m going to go through with this. There’s no doubt in my mind that one night with him will break my heart but the memory of tonight will sustain me for a long time to come, probably the rest of my life. So I settle into his lap to enjoy the rest of our brief ride to my apartment.
Entering the elevator, the sexual tension is thick between us. He pulls me close as his hands find the pins holding my hair. He releases them allowing my hair to flow over my shoulders and down my back. His fingers run through the loose curls causing my scalp to tingle. The tingle shoots all the way from my scalp down my body to settle between my legs, where it became a constant throb.
The ding of the elevator, signaling our arrival to our destination, is the only thing that keeps me from ripping his clothes off right then and there. I can’t believe how brazen I am this evening. This isn’t me at all but then again isn’t that why I came to New York in the first place? To get as far away from the old me as possible? I unlock the door and usher him through into the living room. “Can I take your jacket?” I ask as he drapes it over the back of the sofa.
“Is this alright?” He asks indicating his jacket. I can only nod as the electricity builds between us.
Wetting my lips again, I ask, “Would you like a drink? I believe we have some cognac here.” Letting him know that I noticed his drink of choice earlier. “Or we have some champagne.” His gaze drifts to the counter separating the living room from the kitchen and rests on the champagne in the ice bucket and two glasses. “Oh sorry, my roommate and I had a couple glasses before we left for the club. Tonight was sort of a celebration for me.” I shrug as if to say it was no big deal. “But there’s still plenty left and I have another bottle in the wine fridge if you’d like some.”
“Champagne would be wonderful. So what were you celebrating? I feel a little guilty pulling you away from your friends knowing that you were out celebrating.” In a few long strides, he stands in front of me. “But I won’t say I regret it.” His lips once again find mine; the champagne and questions are all but forgotten. My hands tangle in his hair and his grip on my waist tightens like it’s his only lifeline. Not wanting to break our kiss, I gently guide us down the hallway to my bedroom. He moves us through the door and in a swift move kicks the door shut with his foot. Once the door closed the need engulfing, my body grows exponentially. I reach for the buttons on his shirt wanting to remove all barriers between us. My clumsiness and inexperience are definitely noticeable but he doesn’t say anything, just helps guide my fingers from one button to the next until the shirt lies in a pool at our feet.
I reach up the side of my dress and find the zip. Pulling it down with the dress, it soon joins his shirt on the floor and I stand before him in a lacy bra, thong and my heels. His breathe catches in his throat and I can tell he definitely enjoys the view. “My god, you are so beautiful.” He pulls me to him and takes my mouth once more then begins his exploration down my body. Trailing kisses from my neck down to the tops of my breasts and then over my stomach until he is kneeling before me. He looks up at me silently asking permission. I fist my hands in his hair and throw my head back in answer. If I thought his intention was just to remove the thong, I was very wrong. With a slight tug, there’s a ripping sound as the small piece of fabric falls away from my body. He holds it in his fist for a moment just staring at my naked pussy before he lowers his lip to my clit and sucks hard. The sensation almost causes me to fall over. Sensing my weak knees, he pushes me back against the bed until I’m sitting as he continues working me over with his tongue. “Ah god, that feels incredible.”
“Angel, you taste incredible. You are incredible. I was right before when I said I wouldn’t be able to get enough of you in one night.” His fingers slip between my folds and he presses one into me. I gasp at the feeling. “Shit! You are so fucking tight. This is heaven.”
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2. My favorite color is purple-and-green-and-gold. Yes, I Mardi Gras.
3. Men with morning stubble. Yespleaseandthankyou.
4. The only things I want on my mashed potatoes are butter and pepper.
5. I've played connect-the-dots with the freckles on the back of one of People's Sexiest Men Alive.
6. I’m possibly the only writer who not only doesn’t write to music, I can’t write to music.
7. I have a serious jones for designer handbags. Deeply discounted designer handbags.
8. I didn't have a driver's license until I was 23.
9. I teach Irish ceili dancing. No, not Michael Flatley dancing. Bite your tongue.
10. If you want to get me on a roller coaster, you will have to pry my fingernails out of the railing. And then out of your arm.
11. I was .01 GPA percentage point away from being the youngest summa cum laude graduate in the history of the University of Minnesota.
12. The class that sunk me was Creative Writing.
13. I have hugged every cast member of the original Star Trek
except William Shatner and James Doohan. Yes, that includes George Takei. Be jealous.
14. I'm a very good cook, I just hide it because I hate bringing things to potlucks.