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The Complete Hope Series Box Set with Bonus Material
Hope for Him - Book #2 What do you HOPE for now? Carrington is ready to be with the man of her dreams. Jackson has moved on in need of a more normal life. After an epic kiss, they know their life will never be normal again. Can Carrington and Jackson find their way back to each other or will their past continue to tear them apart?
Hope for Us - Book #3 What do you HOPE for still? Carrington's past haunts her around every corner. A move to Arizona will give her much needed distance. Jackson is one mediocre season away from being a bust in the NFL. A trade to Arizona with no distractions is what he needs to turn his career around. Carrington and Jackson are back tougher again. Are they ready to admit, they have no hope without each other?
What others are saying about the Hope Series:
- What happened towards the end, I wasn't expecting. As I read, I was feeling all kinds of emotions ..." Paranormal Yours Book Club R&R
- "I want more!!! It just keep getting better and better!" Heather Driscoll
- "Their story came together beautifully and they finally got their HEA." Barb Online Book Club
He walked into class and I turned my head away as soon as he looked at me. It was all rather dramatic, and I didn’t even mean it. It was a reflex. I was embarrassed. Snippets of the other night and my behavior kept popping in my head at the most inopportune times—I thought back to the way he looked when I showed up at his door. It was the same look he held now, walking into class. He took care of me, when I half expected him to shut the door in my face. He invited me in, he cleaned me up and put me to bed, and how did I repay him—by ignoring him. Real mature, Carrington. I watched him from this angle. I imagined how messy his hair would look if he wore it longer. He carried the ‘rolled out of bed’ sexy look well. It might be why I kept having naughty dreams about him, none as real and explicit as the one I’d had when I woke up next to him. My face flushed as he turned to stare at me again. I looked away. I needed to suck it up and talk to him. I figured I had until the end of class to figure out something to say. I would start by apologizing for not returning his calls. Thank him for taking care of me the other night and try and persuade him to give me another chance. He would give me another chance because he liked me. He had asked me out in the first place, right? My anxious heartbeat slowed to a relaxed rhythm, and I stopped sweating. I tried paying attention to the professor, but Calculus held no interest up against the saga I created in my own head. Lost in one of my fantasies, I caught Josh in the corner of my eye, gathering his stuff and walking out the door. Where is he going? I panicked. The entire class turned to watch Josh exit. I gathered my stuff and bolted down the steps. As I exited the room, the professor held his hands out and asked, "Anyone else need to leave?" I ran down the hall and out the door. I assumed he exited this way. A desperate squeal escaped my lips, but it morphed into a squeal of excitement. I spotted him as he walked down the path to the student union. I took off running but began slowing down halfway. What am I going to say? I caught up and fell in step two feet behind him. I reached out and grabbed his shirtsleeve and the book in his arm fell with a thud. "What the fuck?" he said as he turned around. His expression softened, but then it got all hard and stern. His eyes darted around, and he cleared his throat. I fought the urge to bolt. "What?" he yelled. Students stopped and stared. He bent down to grab his book. I needed to figure out something; in a few seconds, he would stand up and walk away. I needed to speak up, or he would walk away forever. My mind went blank. He stood back up. Standing in front of me, he tilted his head to the side and crinkled his nose. As I still didn’t say anything, he shook his head and turned to walk away. "For someone who wants to be my boyfriend, you're not acting like it,” I said. He turned back to face me. Confusion and frustration spread across his face. I’d said the wrong thing. I dropped my head and turned. When he dropped his books. The sound made me jump, but not as much as when he reached out and wrapped his hands around my biceps. My instincts were to pull away from the sudden contact, but it only made him increase his grip. My stomach fluttered as I searched my brain trying to find something to say that didn't sound stupid or pathetic or desperate. He remained silent and pulled me close. I leaned toward him while my mind screamed, No, don’t do it, run away. I shouldn’t be doing this, not out of fear of him, but out of fear of losing control. My breath increased and my heart was pounding out of my chest. A small part of my brain registered the pain from how tight he held my arms, but another part of my brain overrode the pain and my heart rate spiked with the realization. Oh, shit. He's going to kiss me. And, he did. His lips landed on mine, and it made my head spin. I was thankful for the grip on my arms, because I would have otherwise melted into the ground. His firm hands were a direct contradiction to his soft lips. I felt him pulling away and I followed, seeking more contact, but his grip flexed as if warning me to stop. I didn’t have a second to think because his lips were back on mine, harder this time. He angled his head to the left, and he slid his tongue between my open lips. As soon as our tongues touched, he withdrew, and I sought it out. His grip on my arms tightened, but as my triceps began to shake, he loosened his grip. He let go and wrapped one arm around my waist. His other hand touched my chin to tilt it to the ideal angle in order for him to kiss me deeper. He directed this epic moment and I followed his cues. He paused and allowed air to pass between our moist lips, but my lips weren’t done. He opened his mouth and my tongue found his as I lifted my arms and wrapped them around his neck. I pulled him closer, and he wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. He no longer seemed in control of the situation. He reacted to my every move. I was in control. God, it felt good.
Carrington lips asked to be kissed. They were soft and smooth and defined with no assistance. I only ever saw her wear lip-gloss. These lips were created for me. Her body was made for me. It responded to my every touch. When my lips found hers, her heart raced. It thumped against my chest. Her arms tensed around my neck, she sighed, and I pulled her closer. My hand went from rubbing her cheek to sliding down her neck. It rested on her chest; it had found its home. My other hand worked its way down her back and around her waist. They had an agenda, and I had no control over them. They touched and felt every place they had access to and would have been more daring if we weren't perched on top of a roof. My lips were a bit more cautious, kissing her soft at first and them firm, taking her lead. I wanted her to react to me and let me know how comfortable she was with what we were doing and how fast we were going.
“Carrington. Look at me.” She bit her lip and started looking around again, but then she looked up and I saw it. She looked at me and I smiled before I could stop myself. This made her even angrier, which made me laugh. “What is so funny?” “This, you and me after all this time in the same room pretending like it’s no big deal.” I stood up and moved to the seat next to her. She sat back and crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m not pretending anything.” “They why are you so pissed off.” “Because, I’m mad at you.” “For what?” She uncrossed her arms and stood up. She headed over to the window and I followed, my eyes seeking the other thing that was uniquely Carrington. That epic ass of hers made me want to call my agent and thank him and give him a raise. I chuckled at how she effected me even so many years later. When I looked up at her face, she had a smirk on her face I couldn’t read. “For that.” “I’m sorry. What?” “For looking at me like that. For walking in her like Mr. NFL Quarterback who everyone loves and adores and expect me to do the same.” “What are you talking about?” I asked. “What are you doing here?” “I was traded remember.” “I just don’t need this in my life right now.” “Well, I’m so sorry that I am interfering with your life again. It’s not like I can afford to handle this distraction either. I have enough to worry about without trying to decipher your damn relationship specifications.” “Relationship specifications. What are your talking about?” “Forget it.” I grabbed the folder and started flipping through the contract. I felt her beside me as she leaned over and took the folder and slide it down the table. I stood up fast and stepped in front of her. My blood boiled. Now I was pissed off. “I’m not going to do this again. Give up everything to prove to you how I feel about you only to have you create some tiny issue to justify why we can’t be together only because you too scared to admit the truth.” She stepped back, but she didn’t have far to go, the window stopped her progress, but she stood tall in heels and attitude staring up at me. “And, what is the truth.” “Falling for someone again, scared the shit out of you.” Her chin dropped to her chest and she relaxed her arms. She leaned back against the window and look up at me. When she blinked back her tears before they fell, it crushed me. I didn’t mean to say that, but it came out before I could stop myself. I relaxed my arms, too. I wanted to hold her, lean over and kiss her and show her how even after all these years, I wanted her. I wanted to tell her how not a day went by that I didn’t think about her. I wanted her to be honest with me and tell me she felt the same. I stared down at her, fixated on her lips. She bit it as if she could feel what I was thinking. I leaned in a little more. She placed her hand on my chest I closed my eyes and said a little pray of think for who ever saw fit to put us in each others lives, but when I opened my eyes, she was gone.
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