Rick "Ricochet" Brennan served eight years as an elite Marine special ops Force Recon soldier. After an injury, and the terrible memories from that night, he retires and goes to work for his former Command Officer, Howard "Mack" McEvoy, at his training center in Atlanta.
Rick "Ricochet" Brennan served eight years as an elite Marine special ops Force Recon soldier. After an injury, and the terrible memories from that night, he retires and goes to work for his former Command Officer, Howard "Mack" McEvoy, at his training center in Atlanta.
Sanctum MMA appears on the surface to be a normal gym, training elite fighters to be the best. Except each trainer, hand-picked by Mack, possesses a special background that allows Mack to run one of the best-kept secrets in the country.
When twenty-three year old Quinn Wallace finally escapes her abusive husband, she turns to her father’s old Marine Corps buddy, Mack, for help. Broken and skittish, Quinn finds herself surrounded by large, intimidating men— men who could easily overpower her. She avoids them the best she can, but when Rick turns out to be more than just a rough fighter with bruised knuckles, she finds herself wondering if she can allow herself to trust again.
EXCERPT
“Law breaker? Hardly,” she scoffed. “I just don’t want to go through the trouble to get a license and then have to change my…” The conversation came to an abrupt halt. Quinn looked up at Rick slack-mouthed, with discernible fear in her wide eyes.
“Change? Change what?”
She waved a shaky hand in the air dismissively. “Nothing. I don’t know what I was saying.”
Rick knew she was lying. He didn’t even need the extensive interrogation training he received in the Marines to see the blatant lie.
What in the hell is she hiding from me?
He was getting damn sick of the evasiveness and the games that Quinn played. Unfortunately, this wasn’t the time or the place to get into an argument with her and he promised that he wouldn’t push her to discuss things. Rick silently seethed, clenching his hands under the table.
The rest of the meal was finished quickly. Neither of them touched on subjects other than safe, impersonal ones, sports, traffic, and the weather.
Fuck! I’m sitting here discussing the mother fucking weather while the girl I love slips through my fingers.
Love? A bolt of fear shot through Rick’s heart, jump starting it until it was pumping erratically against his chest.
I love her?
Rick mulled it over as they drove back to Quinn’s apartment, turning it over in his mind a hundred different ways with no clear answer. He walked her up the stairs, waiting for her to unlock the door. As he stood there watching her, the sun glinting off of the golden highlights in her dark hair, it finally hit him, sucking the air from his lungs.
Without a doubt, I fucking love her.
Quinn opened the door, turning to say good-bye. This time, Rick wasn’t going to let her push him away. There would be no more keeping him at arm’s length. He loved her, and he wasn’t going to give up. Pride be damned, he’d fucking grovel on his knees if that’s what it took.
Rick inhaled a deep breath and moved into the apartment, forcing Quinn to step back so he could fit through the doorway.
“Rick, what—”
Done with the bullshit dance they’d been doing, he silenced Quinn by crushing his mouth over hers, spinning them until her back hit the partially open door, slamming it closed. Rick pressed his weight against her, pinning her soft body against the thick slab of wood as he dominated her, [...]. He could sense the exact moment Quinn stopped fighting, giving herself over to the pleasure. Her tense muscles relaxed and her mouth joined in, yet she allowed Rick to control the kiss.
Lips and teeth mashed together brutally, Rick’s tongue plunging into the depths of her mouth. This wasn’t a gentle kiss meant to be romantic. No, it was a rough display of possessiveness, of pent up desire. It was all of Rick’s love and anguish coming out in one overwhelming display of need and power.
He slid his arms around Quinn’s waist, gripping her round backside and pressing his fingers deep into the soft flesh. He tugged her hips forward, grinding their groins together almost painfully. Quinn moaned into Rick’s mouth, her desperate sounds acting like gasoline on the fire roaring through his body.
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I love the Red Sox and hate the Yankees.
I love hot, sexy romance novels, but hate long, drawn out misunderstandings as a plot line.
I love book series, but hate cliffhangers.
I love alpha males, but hate when they borderline on abusive.
Mostly? I love love love chocolate.
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