More Than Her (More Series book 3) by Jay McLean
Publication Date: November 18, 2013
Published By: Jay Mclean
BLURB: For every action there is an equal or opposite reaction.” For every choice you make there are rewards, or there are consequences. It was my choice to walk away the first time. And my choice to chase her the second. But sometimes you don’t get a choice, and all you get are the consequences.” “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” Unless that someone is Logan Matthews. Because loving him didn’t give me the strength to walk away. It didn’t give me the courage to fight for him. And when it was over, all it gave me was a broken heart.
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About the author: Jay McLean is an author of Mature YA / New Adult contemporary novels. She enjoys reading and writing books that make people laugh, cry and swoon for dreamy book boyfriends. When not doing ether of those things, she can be found looking after her two little boys and trying to avoid house work at all costs.
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He gripped my ass tighter. I let out a sound I had no idea I was capable of. I was so fucking turned on. His movements on me were making me so wet I could feel it soaking my panties. His mouth moved from my neck to my ear, “You gotta quit making those sounds, baby.” He kissed the spot behind it. “I’m starting to lost it.” Then he took my mouth in his, moving into me harder, pinning me to the wall. My leg on the floor moved to wrap around him. I needed him closer to me; I needed more of him. He started to build a rhythm again. I felt that slow burn building low in my stomach. I didn’t know how the fuck he was doing it. Or what the fuck he was even doing. But I didn’t want it to stop. Ever. “Oh my God, Logan.” I was panting; my head threw back against the wall. He was on my neck. Sucking. Hard. He was going to leave a mark. I wanted him to. “Matthews! What the fuck are you doing?” A deep voice yelled. I screamed, dropped my legs, ducked, and hid behind him. Oh. My. God. Reality set in. What the fuck were we doing? “Fuck.” he spat. His hand went down his pants to adjust himself before turning around. “What the fuck do you think this is, Matthews?” “Sorry, Coach” Oh. My. God. Kill me now. “Go home!” I was too embarrassed to look past Logan to see his coaches reaction. “Yes Sir.” Logan sounded like he was about to laugh. What the hell? “I’ll cover for you.” His coach sounded different now, like he was trying to contain his own laughter. “Fuck, I wish I was in college again,” he said, before I heard his footsteps walking away. I don’t know what emotion was on my face when Logan turned to me, but he laughed. Fucking laughed. “This shit’s not funny!” I whispered loudly. ” I almost let you have me. ” I motioned with my finger at our surroundings. “Right here!” He didn’t respond. Just looked me up and down and licked his lips. His eyes settled on my face, as he brought his hand to cup my cheek. And then his face was so close to mine; I could feel his breath on my lips. He rubbed his nose against mine. “Wait here,” he said, his voice low, laced with desire. “We’re not even close to being done. I’m going to take you home and I’m going to fucking finish what I started. And when I’m done with you, you won’t even remember what happened just now. All you’ll remember is how I make you feel when you’re screaming my name.”
He put his free hand on the small of mu back, and that’s how we stayed, with is arm wrapped around me, is fingers in my hair, my head on his chest, and my heart in his hands. Minutes went by before I felt his hand that was stroking my hair began to slow, and his breathing evened out. He’d fallen sleep. I lifted my head slowly, hoping not to wake him. And I looked at him. And I forget where I am, and how I got here. I forgot the storm outside, and all the memories associated with it. Because all I feel is him. I watched as is chest slowly rises and falls, his hair – that perfect mess, his lips slightly parted as is breath blew in and out. My gaze lingered on his lips longer than it should, but I don’t kiss him. Instead, I lay my head back down and let his rhythmic breathing lull me into my own slumber.
He kissed me once, softly. ” I want to feel everywhere he’s felt. I want to replace the memory of his touch with mine. I don’t want a single part of your body to no know my hands, do you understand?” His voice was low, husky, filled with desire. My eyes drifted shut at his words. A sound of agreement leaves my mouth. He started kissing my jaw. “Has he kissed you here?” he whispered, his words muffled. I nodded. His lips moved from my jaw and worked their way down to my neck, kissing, licking, and slightly sucking. I could fell his hard-on against my stomach. One of the his hands moved to cup the back of my head, his finger curled into my hair, softly pulling and tilting my head back to give him better access. I moaned. His other hand moved under my shirt, the back of his fingers skimming my stomach before I felt him grip my side, just under my breast. I wasn’t wearing a bra. He released his grip on my hair just enough that my head fell forward; he kissed me again, just once. Then I felt his thumb rub against my already straining nipple. He made a moaning sound from deep in his throat, pushing into me. “Has he touched here?” I nodded again. He replaced his thumb with his hand, covering my entire breast, gently squeezing. “Oh my God,” I whispered. My chest heaved with every breath. My legs squeezed together trying to find some form of relief. His other hand moved from my head, to under my shirt and onto my bare back. Then he started to slide it lower, and lower, slowly making it’s way under my panties and onto my ass. “Fucking shit, ” he spat out, grabbing a handful. “Please don’t tell me he’s touched you here?” I kept quiet. “Fuck.” He knew the meaning of my silence.
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