Hump Day: Serena Bell's Getting Inside
It's Hump day and we are super ready for a sexy excerpt. We love reading about strong women who set out to shatter that glass ceiling and the men who love them, so Serena Bell's story about a women who lands a job as a pro-football coach is right up our alley! Getting Inside will be available in January, but we really couldn't wait so we snagged an excerpt to whet your appetite. Before we hit the excerpt, let's get a bit of background from the blurb:
Iona: There’s nothing like the rush of going head-to-head with the boys. Football is my life, and I got my new job with the Seattle Grizzlies because I know how to play rough. But as a woman in a man’s game, I can’t afford any distractions—like panty-melting tabloid darling Ty Williams, my star linebacker. I’ve stared down plenty of good-looking players without losing my cool . . . and yet something about Ty’s intense gaze burns straight to my core.
Ty: Despite what they say in the press, I save my best moves for game day. The Grizzlies aren’t just my teammates, they’re my brothers—no way am I going to let some new coach shake up our defense. But Iona Thomas isn’t just some coach. It’s so tough to keep my head in the game when I’d rather be in bed with her. She may take charge at practice, but if I had her in my arms, I’d be choosing the plays. I just need to figure out what makes her tick—and what makes her want to break the rules.
“What if you just touch me a little bit?
“Or—you could just tell me what you would do to me if you could touch me.”
The next sound he makes doesn’t even have an actual name. It’s like the sound a big tree makes in a high wind. “Because that wouldn’t be against the rules?”
He looks me up and down, and one corner of his mouth turns up. “I’d start by taking that dress off you.”
I lift the dress slowly from the hem, teasing it upward. His eyes follow, his expression voracious, but he doesn’t move.
I expose the lace of my red panties—sexy ones, because of what I thought was going to happen between me and Mark.
“You wore sexy panties for him,” he says, outrage sharp in his voice.
“I was trying to get you out of my head.”
“How’d that work out for you?” A smirk now. The smirk has fingernails and they’re raking down my back.
“Not so well,” I confess.
“Good,” he says. “Because it worked like shit for me. It’s worked like shit for me from the first moment I saw you.”
I stop the upward hike of the dress, but he says, “Keep going.”
I know what we’re doing is wrong. I know it’s as wrong as if he were the one lifting my dress. But I don’t have the willpower to stop it.
I work the dress as high as my navel, and he strokes a hand over the bulge in his jeans. I feel it clear down into my core, like he’s stroking me.
I cross my arms and slip the dress off over my head, so I’m standing before him in just my bra and panties. Two barely-there slips of red satin and lace. It’s been years since I took off my clothes for anyone else, and even back then, I always wanted the lights off. But with Ty, it’s different. He’s staring at me like I’m the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to him, and I believe the look in his eyes, because he’s taught me to.
I don’t know where to look, at that wild, hungry expression on his face or the flex of his hand as he rocks it over his crotch.
“I’d brush one bra strap down off your shoulder.” His voice is rough.
I lift one hand like he’s got me in a trance and do just what he’s said. The slide of the strap over my skin makes me shiver. The thin lace cup falls away from my breast and my nipple tightens against the cool air and the heat in his eyes.
He groans. “Now the other one.”
I do it—holding his gaze.
“You’re. So. Fucking. Beautiful.”
It pulls a breath out of me, a huff that’s almost a moan.
“Next,” he says, “I’d touch you all over. With just one finger. Or my tongue. So light, you’d go crazy, wanting more.”
I’m already going crazy, wanting more. It’s like I can feel those light touches, even though he’s ten feet away. Maybe it’s the sight of his hand moving back and forth over his denim-clad erection. We’ve kidded around enough about Ty Williams’s junk, but that is an impressive fistful he’s sporting. Makes my throat tight, and I lick my lips.
“Did you just lick your lips?”
“Care to tell me why?"
“Rub the head,” I say. “With your thumb.”
He makes a noise deep in his throat and obeys.
“Wish I were doing that,” I whisper.
“Wish you were, too.” I watch as he edges the ball of his hand hard against himself, taking my breath away. “Aren’t we already breaking all kinds of rules? Couldn’t you get your ass over here and lend me a hand?”
“I can’t get my ass over there. But I can definitely lend you a hand.” I cup my breast, toying with the nipple. I feel that fine line of pleasure, a tight wire from nipple to core, and I follow it, slipping my own hand down over the curve of my belly to the edge of my panties, and then lower, under.
“Fuuuuck,” he says, his hand speeding.
“Mmm,” I say. “God. I’m wet.”
“Hush. You’re not allowed to complain. You’re not really here.”
“Oh, I’m here. I’m really, really fucking here.”
“Are you close?”
“Fuck, yeah. Are you?”
“Yeah,” I say, and then—oops—“Ohhhhhh.”
But he’s coming, too, his head thrown back and his knees bent, groaning his release.
And then he crosses the space between us and he’s kissing me.
Getting Inside will be available in digital on January 3. Copies start at $3.99, you can pre-order yours here: Amazon | B&N | Kobo | iBooks | Google Play. And if more Hump Day excerpts is what you crave, we've got you covered.
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