Author: Kate Canterbary
Series: The Walshes #6
Published by Vesper Press
Release Date December 13, 2016
Genres: Erotic Romance, Romantic Comedy
More Info: Goodreads
Purchase From: Amazon US
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Rebel, runner, recluse, rich girl.
Nine years ago, Erin Walsh ran away from everything.
The only permanence in her life is catastrophe.
She travels from country to country, chasing disaster, teasing fire, playing with poison. She guards against real connections, and shuns the only family she has left.
She holds everyone—even her siblings—at a mile-long distance. It's the only way to protect herself.
But she can't protect herself from him.
He's the ice to her fire, and he's willing to sacrifice everything to bring her home.
Title: The Spire
Series: The Walshes #6
Genre: Erotic Romantic Comedy
Cover Design: Sara Eirew Photographer
Author: Kate Canterbary
Release Date: December 13, 2016
I gave her a little shove, and she fell to the mattress. She aimed a meaningful glance at my jeans, and that was all the encouragement I needed to drop them to the ground. She crawled backward, and I followed, stalking her every movement until we were flat against a bank of pillows.
“Hi,” she said, running her hand up my flank and over my shoulder. She hooked her leg around my waist and pulled me flush against her. My cock was acutely aware that only my boxers and her panties separated us, and was alternately thrilled with that situation and impatient as hell. She smiled, a little shy. “I like the way you touch me.”
“That’s good because I really enjoy touching you,” I said, bringing my lips to her neck and trailing them down between her breasts. “I didn’t want to let you go when I met you last night. Wanted to keep you all to myself.”
“Oh,” she said, her eyebrow quirking as if this was an peculiar sentiment. “I don’t think anyone’s ever wanted to keep me before.”
Fuck, she was too much. Just too much. Beautiful and rough around every edge yet vulnerable and sensitive.
“I want to keep you,” I said, sliding my fingers behind her back to unclasp her bra. “I’ll keep you as long as you let me, lovely.” Her arms moved to her chest the minute her bra went flying over my shoulder. That vulnerability? There it was again. “And I want to see you, too.”
A groan was rumbling past my lips the second her arms went around my neck and she was bared to me. I thought her tits were a crime in that t-shirt, but I had no idea. They were full and pale, and delicious. I licked and sucked as if I was trying to consume her, and maybe I was.
“Say something,” she whispered, her fingers raking through my hair. “I want… I want to know what you’re thinking.”
I released her nipple with a satisfied groan, and then dropped kisses on each of her breasts before finding her eyes. “I’m thinking get me inside you right now.”
Our lips met as my fingers inched her panties over her hips. I could take her just like this, face-to-face while I tasted her hungry hums, and I’d want for nothing.
“You probably thought I’d be crazy in bed,” she said, her words muffled as she spoke against my neck. “Like, I don’t know, adventurous and kinky. Like, I keep nipple clamps in my back pocket and actually prefer wearing thongs, and I’m always down for anal. And it’s my fault, really. This whole night has been pretty wild, and I kissed you like a maniac and then everything on the boat, and it wouldn’t be wrong to think that tequila on my tits is an average Saturday morning but—”
“It only matters what you want,” I said, tipping up her chin. “Don’t worry about what I think, or what you think I’m thinking. Tell me what you want.”
Erin’s fingers clawed at my boxers, and together we got them over my hips and out of the way. Her panties were long gone and my cock was in love with the wet heat between her legs.
“Please don’t make it hurt,” she whispered.
I shook my head and dropped a kiss on her forehead. “Never.”
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One hot architect. One naughty schoolteacher. One crazy night that changes everything.
If I had known I’d have a hot architect balls deep inside of me before the end of the weekend, I’d have made time for a pedicure. Also, a little chat about not losing my shit at all the wrong moments.
Hindsight was a bitch, and karma… well, I didn’t know her story yet.Meet Lauren Halsted. It’s all the little things–the action plans, the long-kept promises–that started falling apart when my life slipped into controlled chaos.After I fell ass-over-elbow into Matthew Walsh’s arms.
I couldn’t decide whether I wanted to run screaming or rip his pants off, and most days I wanted a little of both. If I was being honest with myself, it was rip his pants off, ride him like a workhorse, and then run screaming.
Meet Matthew Walsh.
A rebellious streak ran through Lauren Halsted. It was fierce and unrelentingly beautiful, and woven through too many good girl layers to count, and she wasn’t letting anyone tell her what to do.
Unless, of course, she was naked.
She wasn’t looking for me and I sure as shit wasn’t looking for her, but we found each other anyway and now we were locked in a battle of wills, waiting for the other to blink.
Sometimes the universe conspires to bring people together. Other times, it throws them down a flight of stairs and leaves them in a bruised and bloodied heap.
A brilliant, alpha architect. A smart, sultry apprentice. What could possibly go wrong?
Some lines are meant to be crossed.
That fucking hair.
It was everywhere, always, and I wanted to tangle my fingers in those dark curls and pull.
And that would be fine if she wasn’t my apprentice.
Andy Asani was nothing like I expected. She was exotic and scary-brilliant, and the slightest murmur from those lips sent hot, hungry lust swirling through my veins. Outside my siblings, she was the only person I could name who shared my obsession with preserving Boston’s crumbling buildings.
My wants were few: good eats, tall boots, sweaty yoga, interesting work. One incredibly hot architect with the most expressive hazel eyes I ever encountered and entirely too much talent in and out of the bedroom wasn’t part of the original plan. Apparently he was part of the package.
Wine was my rabbi and vodka was my therapist, and I needed plenty of both to survive my apprenticeship. Especially with Patrick Walsh leaving love notes in the form of bite marks all over my body.
They liked to call me names. Manwhore. Slut. Player. But I make wrong look so right…
He’s a flawed perfectionist…I can read women better than any blueprint. I understand their thoughts and feelings, their secret desires and insecurities, and I know how to get rid of them once I get off.
But all bets are off when Tiel Desai slams into my life. She redefines what it means to be friends, and she makes it sound like the filthiest thing I’ve ever heard.
I can’t read the gorgeous conservatory-trained violinist, but she’s the only one keeping me from shattering by small degrees, and I can’t let her go.
She’s wildly independent… My past–and New Jersey–are far behind me, and now my life is blissfully full of music: playing, teaching, and lecturing, and scouring Boston’s underground scene with an annoyingly beautiful, troubled, tattooed architect.
I’m defenseless against his rooftop kisses, our nearly naked dance parties, the snuggle times that turn into sexy times, and his deep, demanding voice.
I have Sam Walsh stuck in my head like a song on repeat, and I’m happy pretending history won’t catch up with me.
The one thing they have in common is a rock-solid disregard for the rules. They find more in each other than they ever realized they were missing, but they might have to fall apart before they can come together.
It’s the wrongs that make the rights come to life.
A tough-as-nails businesswoman. An arrogant Navy SEAL. A power struggle with no end in sight.
Some people hook-up at weddings. Others break a hotel room bed (and a table, and a desk, and some complimentary bathrobe belts) and discover they’ve been surviving on bargain basement orgasms their entire lives.
The last one? Yeah. That’s all me.
She’s driven and demanding… I wasn’t always a bitch. There’s a dirty little trick to succeeding in business: the sweet and innocent rarely survive. I fought my way up from nothing, and I don’t bend for anyone.
Until Will Halsted ties me to a headboard and makes me his…for now.
One wild, filthy night turns into another, and then…we can’t stop. Each time we’re together is more addictive than the last, but it’s nothing more than a sexy escape from reality.
Or is it?
He’s never walked away from a challenge… I wasn’t always a warrior but now it’s in my bones and blood. That’s what years spent in the Special Forces does to a man. My entire life is classified: where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, what I’ve done, and there’s no mission too dangerous.
Until I realize that falling for Shannon Walsh is like trying to swim against a riptide. She’s going to tear me up and toss me to the shore, and I’ll love every minute of it.
Every time I’m down range, I want her counting the hours until I’m back. Waiting for me. She’s done it before; she’ll do it again.
Or will she?
They’re wrong for each other in every possible way… Or are they?
From bestselling author Kate Canterbary comes the sexy follow-up to Necessary Restorations. Are you ready to fall in love with some rule-breakers all over again?
Can a reformed player ever truly play by someone else’s rules?
Sam Walsh has finally put an end to decades of self-destruction, turned over a healthy new leaf, and now he’s ready to call himself a married man. But love and marriage are only the beginning, and life is about to get much more complicated.
Will tying the knot tie down a free spirit?
Tiel Desai never imagined herself getting married again, and before she can blink, she’s swept up into the Walsh wedding whirlwind. If that chaos isn’t enough, she’s also busy winning over her future in-laws, grappling with a bumpy adjustment to her new job, and staying afloat when a string of disappointments hit.
They’re building a future, but can they ever fully demolish the past?
Sam and Tiel beat back their demons and learned to love each other, but love might not be enough to solve every problem that crawls their way.