About Stout
Craft beer and the sexy men who brew it.
A beautiful neighbor. A complete stranger. That’s all she was when I moved in next door.
Adelyn Maxwell is my neighbor but she’s no girl next door. The more I come to know her, the more I discover she’s a good girl with a lovely dark side. And maybe I don’t want her to stay on her side of the fence.
I want to disturb the rhythm of her pulse.
I want to see the way her hair spills on the bed when she lies beneath me.
I want her to teach me the dirty pretty things she desires behind closed doors. And she does.
But mostly I want to leave my mark on the most intimate, untouched part of her body. Her heart.
A seemingly insignificant intersection of our lives neither of us recalls suddenly becomes a pivotal moment in our future. We aren’t strangers at all. And our paths aren’t crossing for the first time.
These twists and turns of fate will become one of two things: a wrecking ball to tear us apart or the connection to bond us together forever.
Excerpt
Oliver Thorn’s POV
“Control. And how I feel when you exert your strength over me. Domination. Power. Control. All of it turns me the fuck on.”
“Why?”
“There’s something primal and exhilarating about a man who takes complete control in the bedroom. That’s what it’s about for me. I want to feel desire. Real desire. I need a man who will grab me and make me feel small and vulnerable and feminine. Without hurting me.” She releases my hands and sits upright, still mounted on top of me.
“Outside of the bedroom, it’s all a level playing field. I’m an independent woman, and I control everything in my life. But in the bedroom . . . I want to be controlled by a strong man.”
“And choked.”
“I need an alpha male. I crave the dominance and show of strength he has over me.” She reaches for my hands and intertwines our fingers.
“You’re the first man I’ve trusted in years. I couldn’t have let anyone else put their hands on me that way. It had to be you.” She releases my hands and leans over me, propping on her lower arms, but her hands grasp my face. She presses a soft, closemouthed kiss on my lips.
“Only you, Thorn.” She wants an alpha. A controller. A choker. God help me, I like what I just did to her. I want to do it again. And that’s totally fucked up. I spent my childhood being controlled, dominated, choked. What kind of person does it make me if I do those things to her? Even if it’s what she wants?
“I can’t, Max.” She presses her forehead to mine.
“You can. You did.” I did. And it was wrong. So. Fucking. Wrong.
“But not again.”
“I saw your face. You liked my submission. You liked putting your hand on me like that. You weren’t repulsed. And in those few moments when you held my life in your hands, I belonged to you. I knew it. You knew it. And you liked it.”
About the Author
Georgia resides in rural Mississippi with her wonderful husband, Jeff, and their two beautiful daughters. She spent fourteen years as a labor and delivery nurse before she decided to pursue her dream of becoming an author and hasn’t looked back yet. When she’s not writing, she’s thinking about writing. When she’s being domestic, she’s listening to her iPod and visualizing scenes for her current work in progress. Every story coming from her always has a song to inspire it. Representation: All questions regarding subsidiary rights for any of my books, inquiries regarding foreign translation and film rights should be directed to Jane Dystel of Dystel & Goderich.
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