Avery Yeung's biological clock just went off early. Thanks to her family's medical history, she's running out of time to get knocked up. And the only guy within donating distance? Her overprotective-and irritatingly hot-best friend. So clearly she needs an anonymous donor...
Anonymous donor? Over Sheriff Drew Flannery's dead body. While daddyhood will never be in the cards for a man with his past, Drew won't let Avery shop for a "popsicle pop." He'll do what's right for his best friend by doing his best friend. But only if they do it properly.
But there's nothing "proper" about it. Between the bed, the kitchen counter, and against his squad car, Avery and Drew are having the hottest sex ever. They can't get enough of it-or each other. And without knowing it, they've crossed the one line that could ruin their friendship forever...
What was the problem? She bit back the question. It didn’t really matter. All that mattered was that he kept touching her. He ran his hands down her spine, stopping just before reaching the cuffs. Then he pulled her into a standing position, using his hips to keep her pinned against the side of the Jeep, and repeated the process with the front of her body.
Or he started to. It stopped being a cursory exploration as soon as he reached her breasts. He cupped her, squeezing. “Why the hell aren’t you wearing a bra?”
He lightly pinched her nipples and she shivered. “I wasn’t aware I was talking to the fashion police.”
“Do you know what it does to me knowing you’re driving around, a short step away from being topless?” His breath brushed the back of her neck and over one shoulder, raising goose bumps in its wake.
Probably the same thing it did to Avery. She didn’t make a habit of going braless, but she might start if this was the reaction she got. She took a shaky breath. “Then I guess you better not do a panty check.”
Drew froze for one eternal second. Then he pushed her back down over the hood of her Jeep and dragged her skirt up to bunch around her hips. A breeze chose that moment to hit—as if she needed the reminder of just how exposed she was. But then he slid a hand between her legs, and she didn’t care much about anything else at all.
“You’re already wet.” He teased her, fingers brushing her clit, her entrance, and back again, nothing close to what she needed. “I think you like it when I toss you around.”
She gritted her teeth, fighting against the need to spread her legs to give him better access, and beg for him to just touch her. “Nah. I was touching myself while I was driving.”
“Really?” He kept up his maddening route. “And what were you thinking about?”
Hell, if she actually had started early, she’d have been thinking about him. Yesterday had given her plenty of ammunition for fantasies. No way in hell would she admit as much, though. “Sean Connery. Obviously.”
“Obviously.” His laugh was a little harsh. “Guess I’ll have to up my game if I want you in the here and now, huh?”
Up his game? Only if he wanted to kill her. Avery couldn’t admit she was so affected. She wouldn’t. It was just sex—and sex with a deadline, at that. She let her cheek rest against the cool metal of the hood, striving for control. “I don’t know. Sean Connery is a pretty tough act to follow.”
“Sean Connery, huh?”
“Yep.” She was lying through her teeth and she had a pretty good idea that he knew it. His fingers pushed deeper, spreading her until she couldn’t help but rock against him. She gritted her teeth. “He was really good.”
“I bet.” His lips found the back of her neck. “It’s a shame you have to settle for me.”
The ass didn’t sound the least bit bothered by it, either.
She hissed out a breath at the feeling of his palm cupping her. Owning her. It wasn’t supposed to be this intense. She closed her eyes, but that only made it worse, because she couldn’t pretend she was with anyone else but Drew. She didn’t want to.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
New York Times & USA TODAY Bestselling Author
Katee Robert learned to tell stories at her grandpa’s knee. Her favorites then were the rather epic adventures of The Three Bears, but at age twelve she discovered romance novels and never looked back.
Though she dabbled in writing, life got in the way—as it often does—and she spent a few years traveling, living in both Philadelphia and Germany. In between traveling and raising her two wee ones, she had the crazy idea that she’d like to write a book and try to get published.
Her first novel was an epic fantasy that, God willing, will never see the light of day. From there, she dabbled in YA and horror, before finally finding speculative romance. Because, really, who wouldn’t want to write entire books about the smoking-hot relationships between two people?
She now spends her time—when not lost in Far Reach worlds—playing imaginary games with her wee ones, writing, ogling men, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.