Spotlight
Synopsis: ~A London Lovers Series Stand Alone~
When Leslie Lincoln, a spunky, red-headed American, suffers an awkward moment with an arousingly-sexy British man—she thinks her life can't get any more pathetic.
She's done with men.
She doesn't need them.
She especially doesn't need their muscular thighs.
No sir-ee, she's going to forget all about the brooding, complicated, and seductive "Theo" who captivated her on the dance floor of a London nightclub.
Keep telling yourself that, Lez.....
Immersing herself into a new type of romantic cleanse, Leslie thinks she'll never lay eyes on Theo again. But somehow, he's managed to bulldoze his way back in—her cheetah-print onesie pajamas be damned.
He wants more.
She wants to run.
But he can’t seem to let her go.
Both of them have a past—and neither want to share.
How can love possibly survive in darkness?
When Leslie Lincoln, a spunky, red-headed American, suffers an awkward moment with an arousingly-sexy British man—she thinks her life can't get any more pathetic.
She's done with men.
She doesn't need them.
She especially doesn't need their muscular thighs.
No sir-ee, she's going to forget all about the brooding, complicated, and seductive "Theo" who captivated her on the dance floor of a London nightclub.
Keep telling yourself that, Lez.....
Immersing herself into a new type of romantic cleanse, Leslie thinks she'll never lay eyes on Theo again. But somehow, he's managed to bulldoze his way back in—her cheetah-print onesie pajamas be damned.
He wants more.
She wants to run.
But he can’t seem to let her go.
Both of them have a past—and neither want to share.
How can love possibly survive in darkness?
Excerpt
Theo is quiet the entire drive. When we arrive at his house, he silently takes my hand and leads me into his flat and into his master bath. He flips on the shower and removes his glasses and all of his clothes, silently gazing at me the entire time. He strides over to me and pulls my t-shirt over my head and undoes the string on my cotton pants, pulling them down as he does. We’re both standing before each other completely naked and silent, the shower steam swirling around us.
He grasps my hand again and leads me into his glass walk-in shower. He proceeds to tilt my head back into the water and watches me quietly. Leaning in and pausing, he breathes heavily against my skin before dropping feather-light kisses along my neck, collarbone, and shoulders. I bring my head back down and stare deeply into his eyes. I’m trying to figure him out but the raw vulnerability that stares back at me brings tears to my eyes.
He bites his tongue to the side and grabs the soap, squirting some into a sponge. He turns me away from him and begins washing me, reverently—gently and protectively covering every inch of me with the soapy bubbles. It’s overwhelming. The intimacy of it all—it’s all too much. Tears bubble up and fall down my wet cheeks.
Theo feels my shoulders shuddering beneath his hand and he turns me around to face him again. His pale brown eyes flash quickly between my green ones. As if consciously choosing to use actions instead of words, he tilts my head sideways and presses his lips to mine. He moves us back so the water is pouring down over our faces and between our mouths. It’s a waterfall of lips, tears, tongues, and ragged breaths. Feeling everything he’s telling me without words, I pour every single tear and ounce of angst I have into this kiss. All my fear, anxiety, pain, grief…all of it is swirling deeply within this soul-shattering kiss.
He pushes me back against the wall and pulls my legs up onto his hips as our kiss grows frenzied and desperate. He slides into me in one languid push and holds himself there, just letting our bodies connect in the most carnal and natural way.
He stops kissing me and looks deeply into my eyes. The vulnerability there on display for me to see—to accept—to love. I can feel it. I can touch it. Every single part of him—physically, emotionally, he’s offering it to me. It’s all I can do to accept it all.
Can I possibly love this man?
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