Release Date: February 4, 2014
Never Been Ready
by JL Berg
Book 2 of the Ready Series
Leah Morgan was done with men. After barely surviving a horrendous childhood, and a boyfriend who bailed when things got rough, Leah had given up on love. Then she met him, Hollywood’s new golden boy who suddenly had eyes only for her. She tried to convince herself that one night couldn’t hurt, but after six months, the memories of his mesmerizing gaze and searing touch still invaded her every thought.
Declan James had just one rule when it came to women. Keep it simple, and never linger. That all changed the moment he met Leah. Even across a crowded bar, he could tell she was different. Sweet, with just the right amount of sass, she made him break his golden rule and now he couldn’t walk away.
When casual becomes anything but, and emotions run deep, will Leah and Declan fight their fears, or let old insecurities destroy their one chance to discover true happiness? When Declan’s past comes roaring back in a way neither of them could have expected, will they stand united or be torn apart by the challenges that lie ahead?
It was only supposed to be one night, but only forever will do.
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Just as I hit Play on the Blu-ray player to watch Dirty Dancing for the four hundredth time, my doorbell rang. Confusion hit me as I looked at the clock. It was ten at night.
Who was ringing my doorbell at such a late hour? And since when did ten at night become so late? Damn, I was boring.
Who the hell could that be? I briefly hoped it was my hot new neighbor from three doors down needing to borrow a cup of sugar, but knowing my luck, it would probably be a punk-ass kid playing Ding-Dong ditch.
I threw off the blanket, and with the ice cream still in hand, I stormed to the door, slightly annoyed that I wasn't beginning my cha-cha lessons with Patrick Swayze at that moment.
I opened the front door, and froze.
Holy fucking hell.
Declan James. On my porch. Looking sexy as hell.
And I was...in a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. Shit!
His hazel green eyes ran down my body, scanning my attire, lingering on my legs peeking through the parting of my robe, before stopping at my hand.
"Do you always eat ice cream in a coffee mug?" He leisurely leaned against my door frame.
He was sporting a cocky smile that had my hormones going haywire.
"What? Yes, the handle keeps my hand from getting cold," I blurted out.
Oh my God, why was he here? At my house. And holy hell, why did he have to smell so good?
"What the hell are you doing here?" I finally asked.
His eyes found mine, and he smirked. He was clearly amused. God, six months hadn't made him any less sexy. His wavy brown hair was pushed back, making his piercing hazel eyes stand out against his handsome face. Unshaven, and wearing a leather jacket, he was the epitome of a bad boy.
Every part of me wanted to take him for a ride--again.
Oh God, my greatest weakness had come for a visit.
"My film got the green light, so I'm in town for the next three months or so. Thought I'd stop by and pay you a visit," he answered.
He brushed past me, entering the house like he'd just been invited in, which he hadn't.
My lust filled haze cleared a bit, and it was replaced with a bit of annoyance.
Who the hell did this guy think he was?
"So, you got into town, and you thought you'd pay me a visit? Why? To say hello? Needed a friendly chat Declan?" I asked, clearly peeved.
I'd had an emotional day.
He sat himself on my sofa, draping his arms over the back like he owned the fucking place as he grinned at me. He was too big for the room. My living room was literally being swallowed up by his presence.
"No, I think you know exactly why I'm here Leah," he said, he voice deepening.
His eyes darkened, sending shivers down my spine and straight to my core. All traces of playfulness disappeared. This was the Declan I remembered--the predator, the great seducer.
The man who had taken me again and again all night, sending me over the edge more times than I could count. His hands had touched every inch of my skin. His mouth had kissed every intimate part of my body. No man had ever filled me so completely and owned me as he had.
And here he was, like an offering from the gods.
"No," I whispered.
"No? Are you seeing someone?" he asked, suddenly jumping off the couch and stalking toward me.
"No, I'm not seeing anyone."
His movements slowed, and he visibly relaxed. He continued his journey toward me, but it changed from an angry stalk to a casual swagger. I watched him, loving the confidence in his gait and the determination in his eyes, knowing it was all focused on me.
"Then I don't see a problem here, Leah," he whispered in my ear as he pressed his firm body against mine. "We were good together. Don't you remember?"
Brushing back the golden strands off my neck, he slowly pushed the bathrobe off my shoulder, taking my tank top strap with it. Undoing the belt of my robe with his other hand, he let it fall to the floor in a heap, leaving me in my tank top and tight pajama shorts. His eyes took an appreciative gaze over my exposed flesh, causing my nipples to harden instantly. He smiled, knowing the effect his touch was having on me.
Leaning forward, Declan grazed his lips over my bare shoulder, making me shudder from the touch.
"I can remind you, one more time. Don't you want that?"
I heard the words, and tried to process them in the foggy mush that was my brain. One more time. He'd just arrived. He wasn't here because he needed me, or wanted me as much as much as I wanted him. I was his fucking booty call, an easy lay for someone who had just gotten into town.
Anger flooded my system, and I pushed him away. I'd had a long day and this was just the icing on the cake. A movie star coming by for a quick fuck. Perfect.
"Get out."
He looked confused, but then his trademark smile came back. I could tell he was ready to throw out more bullshit that I wouldn't fall for again.
"No, seriously, get out. I'm not your booty call, Declan. I'm not going to spread my legs just because you showed up at my doorstep. Just because you're in town for three months doesn't mean I suddenly have an open-door policy. I am not your fucking groupie."
Momentarily stunned, he looked around the room until he saw a pen and a notepad resting on the coffee table. He stalked over to the small table, grabbed the pen and angrily scribbled something before ripping the sheet of paper off the notepad and handing it to me.
"This is where I'm staying in town and the name my room is booked under."
Rejection must be a new thing for Declan because he looked conflicted, pissed and seriously sexy. With his eyes wild and intense, he took a deep breath as he ran his hands through that unruly hair. Suddenly, he grabbed me around the waist, and took my mouth in a fierce kiss. Surprise, lust, anger, and confusion all invaded my system and I both pulled him closer and tried to push him away. His taste was exactly the same--completely addictive. Instincts had me diving in, needing him like my next breath, but the logical side of me that had been hurt too many times needed him to leave.
Before I could make a decision, he abruptly pushed away looking smug.
"Call me if you change your mind," he said before walking out the door, letting it close with a soft click behind him.
Making my way to the door, I let my head fall forward until it hit the hard wood with a thump, echoing my mood. "Fuck!" I cursed out in frustration.
"Heard that!" Declan yelled from the other side of the door, as his loud laughter faded away.
Bastard.
At least he didn't see my hand shake as I locked to the door. I could never let that man know how much he affected me. It would be my undoing.
Who was ringing my doorbell at such a late hour? And since when did ten at night become so late? Damn, I was boring.
Who the hell could that be? I briefly hoped it was my hot new neighbor from three doors down needing to borrow a cup of sugar, but knowing my luck, it would probably be a punk-ass kid playing Ding-Dong ditch.
I threw off the blanket, and with the ice cream still in hand, I stormed to the door, slightly annoyed that I wasn't beginning my cha-cha lessons with Patrick Swayze at that moment.
I opened the front door, and froze.
Holy fucking hell.
Declan James. On my porch. Looking sexy as hell.
And I was...in a bathrobe and fuzzy slippers. Shit!
His hazel green eyes ran down my body, scanning my attire, lingering on my legs peeking through the parting of my robe, before stopping at my hand.
"Do you always eat ice cream in a coffee mug?" He leisurely leaned against my door frame.
He was sporting a cocky smile that had my hormones going haywire.
"What? Yes, the handle keeps my hand from getting cold," I blurted out.
Oh my God, why was he here? At my house. And holy hell, why did he have to smell so good?
"What the hell are you doing here?" I finally asked.
His eyes found mine, and he smirked. He was clearly amused. God, six months hadn't made him any less sexy. His wavy brown hair was pushed back, making his piercing hazel eyes stand out against his handsome face. Unshaven, and wearing a leather jacket, he was the epitome of a bad boy.
Every part of me wanted to take him for a ride--again.
Oh God, my greatest weakness had come for a visit.
"My film got the green light, so I'm in town for the next three months or so. Thought I'd stop by and pay you a visit," he answered.
He brushed past me, entering the house like he'd just been invited in, which he hadn't.
My lust filled haze cleared a bit, and it was replaced with a bit of annoyance.
Who the hell did this guy think he was?
"So, you got into town, and you thought you'd pay me a visit? Why? To say hello? Needed a friendly chat Declan?" I asked, clearly peeved.
I'd had an emotional day.
He sat himself on my sofa, draping his arms over the back like he owned the fucking place as he grinned at me. He was too big for the room. My living room was literally being swallowed up by his presence.
"No, I think you know exactly why I'm here Leah," he said, he voice deepening.
His eyes darkened, sending shivers down my spine and straight to my core. All traces of playfulness disappeared. This was the Declan I remembered--the predator, the great seducer.
The man who had taken me again and again all night, sending me over the edge more times than I could count. His hands had touched every inch of my skin. His mouth had kissed every intimate part of my body. No man had ever filled me so completely and owned me as he had.
And here he was, like an offering from the gods.
"No," I whispered.
"No? Are you seeing someone?" he asked, suddenly jumping off the couch and stalking toward me.
"No, I'm not seeing anyone."
His movements slowed, and he visibly relaxed. He continued his journey toward me, but it changed from an angry stalk to a casual swagger. I watched him, loving the confidence in his gait and the determination in his eyes, knowing it was all focused on me.
"Then I don't see a problem here, Leah," he whispered in my ear as he pressed his firm body against mine. "We were good together. Don't you remember?"
Brushing back the golden strands off my neck, he slowly pushed the bathrobe off my shoulder, taking my tank top strap with it. Undoing the belt of my robe with his other hand, he let it fall to the floor in a heap, leaving me in my tank top and tight pajama shorts. His eyes took an appreciative gaze over my exposed flesh, causing my nipples to harden instantly. He smiled, knowing the effect his touch was having on me.
Leaning forward, Declan grazed his lips over my bare shoulder, making me shudder from the touch.
"I can remind you, one more time. Don't you want that?"
I heard the words, and tried to process them in the foggy mush that was my brain. One more time. He'd just arrived. He wasn't here because he needed me, or wanted me as much as much as I wanted him. I was his fucking booty call, an easy lay for someone who had just gotten into town.
Anger flooded my system, and I pushed him away. I'd had a long day and this was just the icing on the cake. A movie star coming by for a quick fuck. Perfect.
"Get out."
He looked confused, but then his trademark smile came back. I could tell he was ready to throw out more bullshit that I wouldn't fall for again.
"No, seriously, get out. I'm not your booty call, Declan. I'm not going to spread my legs just because you showed up at my doorstep. Just because you're in town for three months doesn't mean I suddenly have an open-door policy. I am not your fucking groupie."
Momentarily stunned, he looked around the room until he saw a pen and a notepad resting on the coffee table. He stalked over to the small table, grabbed the pen and angrily scribbled something before ripping the sheet of paper off the notepad and handing it to me.
"This is where I'm staying in town and the name my room is booked under."
Rejection must be a new thing for Declan because he looked conflicted, pissed and seriously sexy. With his eyes wild and intense, he took a deep breath as he ran his hands through that unruly hair. Suddenly, he grabbed me around the waist, and took my mouth in a fierce kiss. Surprise, lust, anger, and confusion all invaded my system and I both pulled him closer and tried to push him away. His taste was exactly the same--completely addictive. Instincts had me diving in, needing him like my next breath, but the logical side of me that had been hurt too many times needed him to leave.
Before I could make a decision, he abruptly pushed away looking smug.
"Call me if you change your mind," he said before walking out the door, letting it close with a soft click behind him.
Making my way to the door, I let my head fall forward until it hit the hard wood with a thump, echoing my mood. "Fuck!" I cursed out in frustration.
"Heard that!" Declan yelled from the other side of the door, as his loud laughter faded away.
Bastard.
At least he didn't see my hand shake as I locked to the door. I could never let that man know how much he affected me. It would be my undoing.
Giveaway!
US only: 1 Kindle Fire HD and 3 print copies of Never Been Ready
International: 5 ebook copies of Never Been Ready
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About the Author:
J.L. Berg is a California native living in the South. She's married to her high school sweetheart and they have two beautiful girls that drive them batty on a daily basis. When she's not writing, you can find her with her nose stuck in a romance book, in a yoga studio or devouring anything chocolate. J.L. Berg is represented by Jill Marsal of Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC.
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