Author: Nashoda Rose
Series: Tear Asunder #0.5
Published by Self-Published
Release Date December 27, 2013
Genres: Erotic Romance
More Info: Goodreads
Sculpt is an illegal fighter.
He’s also the lead singer of a local rock band.
No one knows his real name.
And from the moment I met him, he made me forget mine.
In order to convince Sculpt to give me self-defense lessons, I had to follow his one rule—no complaining or he’d walk. I didn’t think it would be a problem. I’d been bucked off horses, kicked and stepped on. I could handle a few bruises. What I hadn’t anticipated was landing on my back with Sculpt on top of me and my entire body burning up for him.
I tried to ignore it.
Then I tried to stop it.
I failed of course. And having a hot, tattooed badass on top of me week after week, acting cool and completely immune to what he was doing to my body—it was frustrating as hell, so I broke his rule—I complained.
Then he kissed me.
Author’s Note: This novella is Sculpt and Emily’s beginning and how they met. It is an extra and not required to be read before “Torn from You”. Their story and what happens to them is the novel “Torn from You”.
*Warning: Huge cliff-hanger. Like huge! But “With You” and “Torn from You” are released on the same day.*
I wrapped my fingers around his bicep, well, wrapping was an exaggeration as they couldn’t even come close to circling anything on him except maybe his baby finger.
I tugged while squeezing. “Sculpt?”
He spun around looking on either side of him for the missing girl,then his eyes ran the length of me as if I was up for auction. He looped his arm around my waist, tugged me in tight. I heard the tinsel girl huff then her high heels clicked on the cement floor as she stormed away.
Sculpt leaned in so his lips were close to nibbling on my ear. My breath hitched, and a vibration went through my body. I wasn’t sure if it was from nerves or something else entirely, then I decided it was both. “Not my type,” he said in a deep throaty whisper.“Too young, and I don’t do . . .”
Short. Frumpy. Drab. The words never left my mouth, instead I did what I always did when guys used to make fun of me—I curled my toes.
“Brunettes,” he finished.
Oh. I pulled back, and he let me, but his arm remained around my waist, hand resting on my hip. Dry mouth was rearing its ugly head as I stared up at him, taking in the slight curve of his nose, his angled cheekbones ,and god, he had this dimple in his chin I wanted to run my finger across.
“Where’d the blonde go?”
To find more bleach for her hair.
“You scare her away?”
His breath tickled the sensitive place just below my ear, and my nerves shot off so violently that I knew I’d have fallen flat on my face if he’d let me go.
“Um well no, not exactly. I told her I was your sister and needed to talk to you.”
His brows rose, and he wasn’t smiling . . . Shit. “Sister? I don’t have a sister, at least not one I’m aware of. Unless you’re trying to tell me something?”
There was an edge to his voice, rough with a hint of darkness.
My mouth gaped. “No. God, no.It’s just . . . I wanted to talk to you alone.”
His gaze dripped down my body then back up again. I felt like a piece of steak, and he was appraising me to see if I was worth the price. “So, if not my sister then what do you want from me?”
The reason fled my mind, and I stood staring at him like that stupid piece of steak. “I . . . ah . . . well.” His tongue slid across his upper lip wetting the surface and making it glisten. Jesus, did he even know he was doing that?
“I’m not going to fuck you. I may fight illegally, but I don’t fuck illegally.”
My sudden mind boggle vanished, and ire replaced it. “I’m twenty for your information, and I wouldn’t even consider having sex—”
He frowned, and his lips pursed together. The look sent a flush into my cheeks, because honestly, the guy looked even hotter with a scowl. “Having sex? Can you even say the word fuck?”
“Yeah, fuck you.”