by Avery Flynn
God save me from simpering, giggle-box heroines. I want a romance heroine who may not always be right, but she knows what she wants and is determined to get it. Why? Because there are days when I wish I was a little more like that. I’m not the only one who has those days, right?
That’s a good part of the reason why I love writing tough-as-nails heroines who think they have the world in the palm of their hands. It’s always so much fun to mess with them a little and see how they react when they realize that they can’t always go it alone. Even better, the person by their side is a slice of hotness they can’t resist.
How about you? Do you like tough-as-nails heroines?
Make Me Up
Drea Sanford didn’t do the ‘burbs. She didn’t do backyard BBQs with screaming kids and romping dogs. And she most assuredly did not do Cam Hardy—at least not in public. In private? That boy was as hot in bed as his swagger promised, and as long as no one knew a damn thing about it, she’d keep riding him to happy town.
At least that had been the plan.
But here she was across the Harbor City Bridge in Waterburg, sitting on an outdoor swing with a paper plate filled with potato salad, chips, and a burnt-to-a-crisp hotdog on her lap. She held a red plastic cup full of cheap beer. And the oh-so-full-of-himself-James-Bond-wanna-be’s lips were locked onto hers in front of God and everyone like their friends-with-benefits agreement was common knowledge instead of one of her most guarded secrets.
Cam had been sniffing after her since the day they’d met nearly a year ago, and she’d cut him off at the knees every time. But a sex positive girl like herself could only deny her own lust for the hotness that was Cam Hardy for so long…and she’d given in a few months ago—but only if he agreed to keep it just between them. No one needed to be in her business or realize that she’d fallen for the cocky super stud of Harbor City.
But now he was kissing her in Sylvie’s backyard in front of everyone. There was no way around it. She had to cut off her secret lover—just as soon as she could find the willpower to end this kiss. Arrogant lothario or not, Cam knew how to kiss. Strong. Confident. Temping as all hell. He teased her just the way he knew she liked, making everything below her waist warm, wet, and tingly.
The sound of laughter broke through the lusty haze surrounding them and brought her back to reality. As much as she liked his mouth and all the things he could do with it, he’d crossed the line by kissing her in public. She’d grown up with her personal business being everyone’s business, and she’d rather go makeup free forever than go through that again.
Anyway, she didn’t do second chances.
Life’s a bitch that way—and didn’t she know it from personal experience.
She pushed against his chest—honed to a solid muscular mass by long hours in the gym and God knew what else—and got an inch of summer air between them.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Cam rubbed light circles on her bare thigh just north of her knee.
Poor boy didn’t have a clue. He’d made a promise, broken it, and she was done.
She knocked his hand away from her skin. “If anyone saw that, I’m going to punch you in the nuts.”