Excerpt 1 (yep. You're getting TWO)

I never knew true addiction until her. I never truly understood what it is to crave, mind, body and soul, until nothing matters but fulfilling that craving. Until the only thing that matters is easing the hollow ache inside.

It’s there whenever we’re apart. Like a dark hole, it lingers, intensifying until my mind is full of blonde hair and blue-green eyes. Until my mind is full of easy curves, bare before me. Until my desires reflect her bending at the waist, her pert little arse in the air, colored red by my palm, the outline of my fingers visible against her pale skin.

Every day it’s something new, something different, something I never allowed myself to think of. It’s more than against the wall, more than her hands bound, more than a blindfold across her eyes. Now I can think freely, imagine all the ways and all the places I can have her.

Because she trusts me.

And she’s fucking mine.

My Liv. My bitch. My beautiful, flighty bitch.

Now she’s sitting in front of me with her eyes wide and her hands covering her mouth. She’s deathly still. And quiet. So fucking quiet every second that passes cuts deeper than anything she could ever say would.

But she hasn’t moved away from me, either. She’s still sitting in my arms, her legs hooked over mine… Staring at me like it’s the last thing she ever expected me to say.

I run my eyes across her face, taking advantage of her silence just to look at her. Her hair is messy, her blue-green eyes shining, her cheeks flushed. She looks freshly fucked, and she is, but more than that, she looks shocked.

“Liv?” I prompt. “Are you going to say anything?”

EXCERPT 2

“No, you don’t. You’re impulsive and indecisive and spur-of-the-moment.” He runs his nose up my neck. His breath coats my skin in a swath of heat that sends tingles through me. “It’s what I love about you. I love it when you don’t think.”

“Because when I do, I overthink to hell.”

“Precisely.” He smiles against my skin. “So stop thinking.”

“Even if I think you’re cute?”

“Especially that.” He laughs, his hands settling against my waist.

I expect them to slide down, to cup my ass and pull me toward him. They don’t. They flatten against the small of my back and linger there. The heat from his hold seeps through the material of my sweater.

The tension zings. It bounces off him and me, colliding in the tiny space between us and igniting like fireworks on the Fourth of July.

My chest heaves with anticipation. I want his touch. Despite my earlier thoughts about the sex overriding the rest of our relationship, when we’re here, like this, so close, I can’t help but need him inside me. I can’t help but want to be so connected to him.

“There’s more to us.” The words leave me, barely audible, unintentional.

“What do you mean?” he whispers into my ear.

“Than our addiction. There’s more, isn’t there? It’s stronger than our addiction. More intense, yet just as dangerous. It’s lingering under the blanket of our addictions.”

Tyler eases one hand around my front and up my body until he’s cupping the back of my head. “Yeah. Yeah, there’s so much more than our addiction.”

I press my face into his chest as Nana’s words come back to me. “When you’re in love, you’ll know it.”

“We are so fucked,” I whisper into his shirt. “So fucking fucked.”