How to kick off a great summer in the Hamptons:
Snag a gorgeous rental on the beach. Check.
Get a job at a trendy summer haunt. Check.
How to screw up a great summer in the Hamptons:
Fall for the one guy with a dark leather jacket, scruff on his face, and intense eyes that doesn’t fit in with the rest of the tony looking crowd. A guy you can’t have when you’ll be leaving at the end of the season.
Check. Check. Check.
I should add—especially when the guy is your sexy, tattooed God of a boss.
Especially when he not only owns your place of employment but inherited half of the town.
Especially when he’s mean to you.
Or so I thought.
Until one night when he demanded I get in his car so he could drive me home because he didn’t want me walking in the dark.
That was sort of how it all started with Rush.
And then little by little, some of the walls of this hardass man started to come down.
I never expected that the two of us, seemingly opposites from the outside, would grow so close.
I wasn't supposed to fall for the rebel heir, especially when he made it clear he didn’t want to cross the line with me.
As the temperature turned cooler, the nights became hotter. My summer became a lot more interesting—and complicated.
All good things must come to an end, right?
Except our ending was one I didn’t see coming.
Rebel Heir is the first book in the Rush Series Duet. Book Two, Rebel Heart, will release six weeks later on May, 22, 2018.
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“All done.” I found Gia in the yard sunbathing. Of course, she had to be lying on her stomach so I could get a closer look at her ass. It was fucking phenomenal. Like a chubby, upside-down heart from where I stood. I’d spent the last hour pretend fixing her car and picturing her riding me reverse cowgirl, those ass cheeks jiggling like fucking Jell-O while she rode me hard. I had to force my eyes to her face and clear my throat to continue. “Here are your keys. Your rotors were shot, too. In the future, don’t ride on bad brakes. It just turns a little problem into a big one.”
She shielded her eyes from the sun and twisted her neck to look up at me, still not flipping over to her stomach. “Oh. Okay. Thanks. Can I make you some lunch? It’s the least I can do to repay you for hours of working on my car.”
Is that ass on the menu?
“No. I have to get going.”
She lifted from flat on her stomach to on her knees in a yoga-like pose, taking her sweet ass time before turning over.
“Are you sure?” She bit her bottom lip. “You’ve had to have worked up an appetite.”
Is she fucking with me? I had an appetite alright. “I gotta run.”
I sounded like a broken record, yet here I still stood. My head wanted to get the fuck out of that yard, but my traitorous feet wouldn’t move. Not even when she stood up, turned around and practically rubbed her ass against me as she held up suntan lotion. “Could you rub some sunscreen on my back before you go? I don’t want to burn.”
No. “Sure.”
“Thanks.”
I took the sunscreen and squeezed a glob of creamy white lotion into the palm of my hand. Swallowing hard, I began to rub it into her back. Her shoulders were warm and soft with the tiniest little layer of fuzz on it. It reminded me of a peach. My mouth salivated at the thought of biting into her.
“Could you do a little lower?”
My breathing became labored and my cock swelled as I lowered my hands and rubbed into the middle of her back. I was breaching into dangerous territory.
“Lower” she said. I knew from her breathy voice that I wasn’t the only one aroused.
I lowered to just above her bathing suit bottom and rubbed lotion all over.
When I finished, she turned her head so I could see the side of her face and closed her eyes to whisper, “lower.”
Fuck me.
I couldn’t stop myself. I reached for the creamy sunscreen and squeezed enough into my hand to cover a large person’s full body and then began to rub it into her ass cheeks. She had the most unique heart-shaped mole on her left side that was perfectly symmetrical. I ran my fingertips over it. When I trailed a pool of lotion to the top of her ass crack, and slowly rubbed it in tracing the material of her bathing suit in between her cheeks, she let out a low moan.
More. Make more sounds like that.
Vi Keeland is a #1 New York Times, #1 Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author. With millions of books sold, her titles have appeared in over ninety Bestseller lists and are currently translated in twenty languages. She resides in New York with her husband and their three children where she is living out her own happily ever after with the boy she met at age six.
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Penelope Ward is a New York Times, USA Today and #1 Wall Street Journal bestselling author.
She grew up in Boston with five older brothers and spent most of her twenties as a television news anchor. Penelope resides in Rhode Island with her husband, son and beautiful daughter with autism.
With over a million books sold, she is a seventeen-time New York Times bestseller and the author of over fifteen novels, including RoomHate which hit #2 on the New York Times bestseller list and #1 on the Wall Street Journal bestseller list. Other New York Times bestsellers include Stepbrother Dearest, Neighbor Dearest, Drunk Dial, Cocky Bastard, Stuck-Up Suit, Playboy Pilot and Mister Moneybags (the latter four co-written with Vi Keeland).
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