RELEASE BLITZ WITH EXCERPT: The Almost Romantic by Lauren Blakely

Gage

Thank f*ck the hotel isn’t sold out today. But if it were, I’d have marched to every hotel on the Strip to find some privacy for even fifteen minutes with this woman.

When we reach the door to our room, she smiles coyly. “You and me and hotels. This is becoming a habit.”

“Hotel sex should be a regular one.” I stop for a second. “No—sex should be a habit,” I quickly revise…because seriously. There’s no point playing the virtue card any longer. Hell, we’ve barely been playing it so far. I move behind her, sweep her hair off her neck, and dust a kiss there as I swipe the key over the pad. “Can this be one of the perks of our temporary marriage?”

She murmurs as I kiss her. “Let’s see how good you are at convincing me of the marital benefits.”

I growl against her skin as I turn the handle. “I’m very persuasive…Mrs. Archer,” I tease, even though she didn’t take my name.

A laugh comes from her as she steps inside. “Or maybe it’s Mr. Starling.”

The second the door shuts, I haul her against me, her chest flush to mine. “Call me whatever you want…when you’re coming undone.”

“Deal,” she says, and then I start making good on my part of the bargain. I back her up to the wall, hold her face, and crush my mouth to hers.

Like I wanted to do in the chapel. At the front desk. In the hallway.

Finally.

It’s such a relief to kiss her behind closed doors. To kiss her without worrying about who’s out there in the store, or in the restaurant, or in the bar.

I kiss her deeply, thoroughly, like I plan to take her apart, orgasm by orgasm, here in this hotel room high up above the city of sin.

I devour those sweet lips, kissing off her lipstick as she ropes her arms around my neck, warm and pliant, tipping her head back.

A sign.

Letting me know how she wants to be kissed.

Like she’s not in charge.

I wrench apart from her, tilting my head, stroking her cheek. “You like orders?”

She gives a tease of a smile. “Try me.”

A rumble works its way up my chest as I reach for her wrists, then pin them over her head in a blur.

“You’re fast,” she says, her blue eyes sparkling.

I dip my face to the hollow of her throat, kissing her there before I let go and meet her gaze again. “Turn around. Hands against the wall.”

She spins, and I press her breasts to the wall, then brush her hair to the side. “Your neck,” I murmur, coasting my lips across her skin, inhaling her cherry scent, then running my nose into her soft hair. Her shampoo’s different. Something subtler, something clean and sweet I can’t identify. I roam my hands down her arms.

“Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to touch you?” I drop a kiss on her collarbone as I slide her sweater down her shoulder.

“How many?” She’s breathless as I travel across her soft skin.

“Can’t count that high,” I murmur then give a flick of my tongue over the shell of her ear.

She shudders beautifully. “Me neither.”

Her desire rushes through me, mingles with my own, grows stronger, digs deeper. I gather her hair in my hand, tug on it.

She gasps.

Setting a hand on her chin, I angle her toward me, exposing her neck. I coast my lips along the column of her throat, her pulse hammering against my touch as I go.

When I stop, I turn her around once more so she’s facing me. Then I grab her ass and hike her up. “Wrap those legs around your husband,” I command.

And my obedient, horny wife complies, squeezing those lush thighs around my hips as I carry her to the bed.