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Saturday, August 19, 2017

His To Keep by Vivian Wood ❤️ Book Blitz & Gift Card Giveaway ❤️ (Contemporary Romance)



From Wall Street Journal and USA Today Bestseller Vivian Wood

Nothing this fake should feel so good.


CEO Connor Cavanaugh is a man in charge. He dominates in meeting rooms and at the gym, and his sinfully sexy body is proof. His upcoming wedding is supposed to seal the deal, putting his company in the spotlight and making it rain.

That all goes down in flames when he walks in on his bride-to-be with another man.

No one can know that a woman tried to make a fool of Connor Cavanaugh.

Cancelling the wedding is the only option… until he spots a gorgeous brunette at the wedding planner’s office. Samantha. The perfect fake fiancée.

She has a body that makes him want to walk her over the threshold, but she’s sweet. Harmless. She’ll suit the position perfectly.

The only problem? Samantha has a wicked smile that keeps him up at night. Every day, she’s more tempting than the last.

He swore he wouldn’t f*ck around with his fake fiancée. He signed a contract. He paid. But the more he sees, the more he wants… too bad Sam has plans of her own.





As she sat across from him, nothing but candles and moonlight illuminated the balcony. The oysters were decadent, soaked in pink champagne, but something about the night quieted her appetite. Instead, they popped a bottle of champagne and clinked glasses. “I thought you were hungry,” he said as he eyed her.
“I guess not as much as I thought,” she said.
After they’d shared a bottle and picked at their food, Connor put his linen napkin aside. “Dessert?” he asked.
“What do you have in mind?” she asked coyly. He looked ravishing in a white suit with no tie and the top button of his pressed shirt undone.
“Come here,” he said. “Let’s enjoy it on the couch.”
She settled across the cool leather and slid out of her shoes. The dress splayed out like a work of art. Sam felt like a goddess. As Connor returned from the kitchen with a silver platter of strawberries and freshly whipped cream, she hoped he thought so, too.
“They’re local, from Strawberry Fields Farm,” he said as he sat next to her.
“That name sounds made up,” she said.
“If it were, I’d have come up with something more creative,” he said. He picked up one of the largest berries and held it to her lips. Sam caught his eye and held it as she bit into the juiciness. It was at the peak of ripeness, and the sweetness ran down her chin.
Before she could react, Connor wiped the juice from her jaw and brought his hand to his mouth. He licked the juice from his thumb and put the tray aside.
She leaned into the kiss before she was even certain it was happening. His hand cupped her chin and controlled her. With her head lifted toward him, his lips were on hers and she could taste nothing but the sweet berry.
When his tongue slipped between her lips, she let out a moan. Her back was arched, her chest pressed up against him. Connor’s hand found her thigh instantly. He explored the stretch of silky skin, and slowly moved higher. He dragged out every moment.
Sam slid his jacket off his shoulders hungrily while he grabbed her thigh and draped it across his lap. His hand traveled higher as he kneaded and squeezed every part of her leg.
When he reached her hip, she felt him search for her underwear and she laughed into his mouth. “Nothing there,” she said.
He grinned and squeezed her ass as he pulled her on top of him. As she straddled him, she could feel his hardness between her legs. She was already wet, but couldn’t help grinding against him. Even through his trousers, she got a hint of what that girl had meant by “built like a horse.” But Sam was so turned on, it no longer intimidated her.
Connor’s mouth moved from her lips to her jaw and traveled to her neck. The heavy jewels of the dress’ neckline stopped him. With one hand—the other still firmly on her backside—he reached behind her and unhooked the neck of the dress. It fell quickly around her waist and exposed her breasts.
A part of her felt suddenly shy, but Connor held her at arm’s length to admire her. “You’re even more beautiful than I imagined,” he said.
His hand snaked below the folds of the dress, which was now solely held against her body at the waist, and he bolstered her up above him so her nipples met his mouth. She felt his fingers digging into her cheeks, dangerously close to her opening as the warmth of his mouth consumed one nipple and the next.
Sam whimpered as she felt her nipples harden against his tongue. She wanted desperately to be lowered, to be able to rub herself against his hardness again, but he kept her firmly poised inches above his lap.
She squirmed, and his hands that clutched her bare ass shifted closer to her center. His fingers spread her apart. The ache of emptiness was unbearable. “Fuck, you’re wet,” he told her between sucks on her nipples.
“Stop teasing me,” she said, frustrated.
“Is this what you want?” he asked as he lowered her back down.







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Vivian likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.

Vivian's lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: "Soulmates never die."

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Up for grabs: $75 Amazon gift card
5x eBook copies of His to Keep



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