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.
"So, when exactly do I get my striptease?" I asked.
"Well, that's up to you, Hotshot."
"Yep. Cocky attitude, arrogant disposition, and sexy as fuck--it's a good
"All right, so what are your terms, Leah?"
I fought back the urge to touch her. Stuffing my hands into my pockets,
I paced the room in a vain attempt at keeping myself from just saying, Fuck
it, and pinning her against the wall before she could lay down any terms or
requirements. Because whatever she was about to say, I was going to agree. She
didn't know it, but she had my balls in her perfect little hands, and I was at her
fucking mercy. I both hated and wanted her at the same time. She made me feel
out of control and weak with need. I couldn't stop the pursuit, and I couldn't walk
"I will not be an easy fuck whenever you get too lazy to find a new bimbo
for the evening. I will not allow you in my bed, wondering where you've been and
what kind of sloppy seconds I'm getting," she declared.
Then, she said the one thing I never wanted to hear.
"I want to be exclusive with you--for however long we decide to do this. I
don't care about labels or dates. You don't have to take me out to dinner, bring
me flowers, or buy me anniversary presents. The only thing I ask is that, for the
time we are together, you are mine."
"Yes," I answered immediately, surprising us both.
"Yes? That's it? No counteroffer? No freak-out or temper tantrum, Declan?"
"No, Leah, no temper tantrum. Just one request.”
I joined her on the sofa. My thigh brushed hers, and I heard her breath
"And what's that, Hotshot?"
"Make it two," I amended. "First, the same rules apply to you. While we're
together, for however long, you're mine, Leah," I purred against her ear.
Her eyes widened, and her breath became ragged, giving me a quick sense
of satisfaction because I'd broken through her calm and collected exterior.
"And second?" she asked timidly.
"Don't fucking call me Hotshot."
She visibly relaxed and snorted out a laugh before saying, "So not
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.
Twitter: @authorjlberg ; https://twitter.com/authorjlberg