MISS UNDERSTOOD, the hilarious and sexy second book in The Coletrain Twins series from Amie Knight and Miranda Elaine, is available now!
I’ve waited my whole life to catch her. They call her a criminal. A con-woman. A thief and too wild for her own good. But me? I just call her mine. –Officer Nathan Trent.
He’s one of the good guys. Honorable. Reliable. I’ve loved him since we were kids. But there’s no way I’ll let my wild ways tarnish his squeaky clean reputation. No matter how badly I wish he was mine. –Tillie Coletrain
Warning: This novella is chock full of sexy times, ridiculous shenanigans, and surprise weddings. You’re welcome.
**Miss Understood was previously published under the titles Jail House Rock and Wild Thing by Liberty Laine, but have been updated for re-release.
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“…wickedly witty banter and enough steam to power a sauna…” ~Danielle, Red Cheeks Reads
Check out Danielle’s 5 SMOOCHES review!
EXCERPT:
I’ve always had an inkling that Nate has wanted more from me, and it’s become more and more apparent lately, but me and Nate? That can never happen.
Nate’s Godiva chocolate and I’m just regular old Hershey. Nate’s Armani and I’m Walmart brand on a good day. He’s pure class and I’m just white trash. I’ll never let myself dull his shine. And now that we’re adults, Nate’s on one side of the law and I’m on the other. Too many things stand between me and the man of my dreams.
I try to make an effort to take shallow breaths so I don’t draw in too much of his manly scent, but it’s no damn use. His smell assaults my senses, making me feel loopy and lightheaded. My insides warm, and the whole thing pisses me off. What did he do today? Roll around in oranges and manliness before he picked me up? He smells ridiculous.
“Crack a damn window, Nate. It’s stifling in here,” I snap out.
Nate shoots a panty-melting smile my way like he knows what his smell does to me before saying, “Till, show some respect to the uniform. It’s Officer Trent.” His lips twitch in a barely there smile.
His bicep flexes as he grips the steering wheel to make a left turn, and I blush, thinking of all the ways I want to respect the hell out of that uniform. You know? With me under him. Me over him. Me on my knees in front of him. I smile. If he only knew how much I respected that uniform.
God, get your shit together, Tillie. Stop thinking about the hot cop you’re in love with and figure out how to get the hell out of this car.
I cannot let Nate take me down to the station. It’s unfortunate, this whole bounced-check situation. It really is, but it truly was unavoidable. I think of my good-for-nothing mother and roll my eyes. I’ve got to figure out another way to keep paying her debts off, because cleaning apartments at the retirement home isn’t cutting it. I’m not making enough money to feed myself and support my mother’s bad habits. But I refuse to let her contact Millie and upset her. I’ll pay my mother’s gambling debts forever if it means Millie can live free and clear of our mom.
I look to my right out the car window and notice Hannah, Millie’s best friend, driving her old, blue Ford Escort next to us. We’re coming up on a light, so I scoot closer to Nate across the bench seat of his cruiser until I’m pressed against his side, putting my plan into action. But my stupid pulse still kicks up a notch at our proximity, my body betraying me in the worst possible way.
His head turns to mine and our lips are a mere breath apart.
“What are you doing, Till?” he asks, his eyes genuine, and I almost feel bad for what I’m about to do.
Running my hand up from his knee to his thigh, I lean closer to him until our noses brush. “What do you want me to do, Officer Trent?” I breathe across his lips as my hand ghosts across the zipper of his blue trousers.
We stop at the light, and Nate closes his eyes and leans his head back against the headrest on a groan. I ignore the wetness that floods my panties and my desire to really grip his cock and give it a good stroke.
“Another time,” I whisper before quickly sliding back across the bench seat and throwing my door open. I don’t even slam it behind me as I run across the lane, my arms flailing, sweating like a whore in church.
MEET THE AUTHORS
About Miranda Elaine:
Miranda is a loving wife and barely surviving mother of three occasionally good kids. Her hobbies include lying to herself about the calories in donuts and banana pudding, as well as running out of excuses when procrastinating. She’s been an avid reader since she was a young girl. Whether she’s by the pool, curled up in bed, or hiding in the closet, as long as she has a book in her hands she’s happy.
Connect with Miranda:
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About Amie Knight:
