Calling all sports romance fans: Slammed by Victoria Denault needs to be on your radar. Check out an exclusive excerpt and pre-order your copy today!
Happy December friends! With the holiday season practically here, the hope is that we’ll all get some spare time to spend with family and friends and also to enjoy a juicy book! If you’re in the mood for a sexy sports romance (when aren’t we in the mood?!), then Slammed by Victoria Denault must be added to your TBR list immediately! This is the second book in her San Francisco Thunder series following hockey players and their romantic action off the ice.
The first book, Score, came out earlier this summer. Slammed (out December 5) picks up with the team goalie and publicist who get into a workplace fraternization that they can’t walk away from!
Thanks to our friends at Forever Romance, we have an exclusive (and HAWT) excerpt to share. Take a look at the book cover and summary and then get to reading!
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Summary
As a publicist for the San Francisco Thunder hockey team, Dixie Braddock is too busy rescuing the players from trouble to get into any of her own. Except, of course, when it comes to the super hot new goalie. Because when a guy’s kiss curls your toes and sets your heart on fire, how the hell do you just walk away? But if anyone ever catches them together, she’ll lose her job faster than any slapshot.
Eli Casco is on the brink of having everything he ever wanted. He’s finally been called up from the minor leagues to play on a championship team. And he just had the most mind-blowing night with the woman of his dreams. But now that he’s an official Thunder player, Dixie is determined to keep her distance. None of the fame and fortune means anything to him without her to share it. If he truly wants Dixie in his life, it’s time to throw down his gloves and put everything on the line.
Excerpt
“Well, this is unexpected.” Eli’s voice fills my apartment, not because he’s yelling but just because he’s got that kind of voice.
I turn and realize instantly why he’s got an amused look on his sexy face. My hands are encased in rubber gloves, one with a dish brush in it and the other with a large chunk of mug. All the while, I’m still wearing my sexy dress and high heels. He looks completely turned on right now.
“You have a maid fetish?” I question.
“No. And this isn’t maid… This is…” His green eyes sweep up and down my body. “I don’t know what this is, but yeah, it’s a fetish.”
I laugh and drop the chunk of mug in the trash, drop the dish brush on the counter and start to pull off the rubber gloves. I drop the gloves on the counter. “Sorry. Show’s over. And so is my mug.”
“Debutante Does Dishes?” He’s still trying to define my ‘look.’ “No… maybe Heiress Does Dishes? Or… Sexy Businesswoman Does…”
“Goalie?”
A slow smile spreads over his face. “Now that’s a fetish I’ll confess to having.”
He’s just standing there staring at me, smiling. I could honestly stare at that smile all damn day long. I can’t explain what it does to me. It’s honestly the most charismatic, charming and sexy smile I have ever seen. It draws me to him like a cat to a laser pointer.
“Can I get you something? Beer? Water? Wine?”
“Just you,” he replies, casually still smiling.
Oh God, we are really going to do this. Suddenly I feel nervous. Still, I find myself walking slowly toward him. He reaches toward me, palm up and I drop my hand into his and then suddenly, with a whoosh, I’m over his shoulder. My head is dangling over his back and my ass is on his shoulder, my feet hanging at his waist.
“Sweet Dixie,” he says as I squirm. “This is going to be fun.”
I feel his mouth, more specifically his teeth, as he turns his head and bites my butt cheek. Not hard enough to hurt, just hard enough to notice. So I haul off and smack his ass, since it’s the only thing within swatting distance. And then his hands grip my waist and I’m flying through the air and landing on my back in the middle of my bed, which is also covered with throw pillows since I use it as a couch too.
I prop myself up on my elbows and look up at him. He’s shrugging out of his suit jacket. “Tell me you’ve been thinking about this as much as I have since we met?”
“I wasn’t…” He raises an eyebrow at that. Just one – his left one. I bite my bottom lip. “At first.”
“I know you love to say that, but I felt the vibe coming off you the moment our eyes locked,” Eli replies, confident as he starts to undo his cufflinks. Jesus, I feel like I should be filming this and selling it to a suit designer for their next campaign. It’s hot as hell.
“There was no vibe, rookie,” I reply.
“I’m not a rookie yet. You’re going to have to come up with a new annoying nickname.” He starts to unbutton his dress shirt. “How about Sex God?”
I snort.
He grins, eyes wide. “Did you just snort?”
“Hell yes. That was snort-worthy level of machismo.”
“Machismo?” He laughs loudly. “I know you’re older than me, but no need for vocabulary from the forties.”
“I’m only one year older than you.”
His shirt is completely unbuttoned now and hanging from his shoulders. My eyes take a long, slow journey from his collarbone down his perfectly toned chest and abdomen.
“A year and two months,” Elijah corrects. “You’re a certifiable cougar, Dixie Wynn Braddock.”
I regretfully pull my eyes off his gorgeously ridged abs and up to his face. But he’s not looking at mine. His eyes are on my legs. I glance down. My dress hiked up quite a bit after I was tossed on the bed, and he likes what he sees. I want to show him more, so I move a little bit and the dress slides to the top of my thigh. He takes a step closer.
“Take off your shirt,” I whisper and our eyes finally connect.
Without a word, he removes his shirt and lets it land at his feet. Then he bends and once again he’s deliciously close, his face inches from mine.
“Now,” he says reaching up with one of his hands and gently wrapping it around the back of my neck. “Where were we?”
“I think we were right about here.” I tip my head ever so slightly so our lips connect.
Yup. He’s as good at kissing as I remember. I don’t know what it is about his lips or his tongue or how he moves them, but it’s blowing my mind. They’re the definition of hot and bothered. His fingers press gently into my neck and he tilts my head back further and leans into me, pushing me back onto the mattress. My hands roam over his bare chest and graze that perfect chest hair. I let out a little grunt of satisfaction at the feel of it. Jesus.
“You like the chest hair?” he asks, his lips still against mine. His words basically spoken against my mouth.
“Mmm… it’s awesome,” I whisper and let my fingernails scrape through it and over his nipples, which makes his pecs clench. “Helps me forget what a baby you actually are.”
“Stop,” he laughs.
“Make me.”
Add Slammed to your TBR list and pre-order your copy today!
About the Author
Victoria Denault loves long walks on the beach, cinnamon dolce lattes and writing angst-filled romance. She lives in L.A. but grew up in Montreal, which is why she is fluent in English, French and hockey.
