Blog Tour – Review + Excerpt: Bad Judgment by Meghan March

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Bad JUD Cover FrontHe’s so arrogant.

She’s so self-righteous.

I can’t stand him.

I want her.

He’s a distraction I don’t need.

She’ll say yes eventually because I’m not giving up.

 

Justine Porter is stuck between a rock and a stripper pole. She lost her law school scholarship, which means she has two choices to keep her life on track: strip for her tuition or tutor the most distractingly sexy guy in her class—the one she’s been turning down for two years straight. It should be an easy choice, but tutoring Ryker Grant could derail her plans to graduate with honors faster than two-for-one night at the Déjà Vu. Then again, topless has never really been her color.

She could take the easy road, just this once . . . but the deal has enough loopholes to trip anyone up.

Who knew they taught bad judgment in law school?


My Review (1)

eARC provided in exchange for an honest review

I have been a Meghan March fan ever since I read her Beneath Series (Read My Review) – some of the most angsty and HOT romances I had read. So when she came out with this new standalone, I just KNEW that it would absolutely freaking awesome! And I wasn’t really wrong!

I want it all, Justine. Including the chance to show you how fucking amazing life can be when you let a few distractions in.

Justine Parker is a law student on scholarship and one who has been declining Ryker Grant’s advances for the last two years, but now her world has pretty much ended – her scholarship/funding has been rescinded and she needs the tuition money for her last one year!

Ryker Grant, on the other hand, is a playboy man-whore, and literally doesn’t deny any offer he might receive.  But he has been interested in Justine for a long time now, even if she has been refusing his advances.

When an unfortunate circumstances bring both of them together, both of them are unable to deny the obvious chemistry between them!

I want her addicted to me. It’s only fair, because I’ll never get enough of her.

Oh this was such a beauty of a romance – it had been so long since I have read a romance that made me burn for the characters and in such an amazing way! I have never ever waited for that FIRST KISS, like I waited in this book. And when that first contact happened, the feeling amazingly exhilarating – the best PART EVER!

Justine was the intelligent heroine that we all love to adore, and Ryder, oh Ryder is the hot bad boy of the college that you know is bad for your health but is definitely the star of your night time fantasies and he definitely knows it!

Both are the polar opposites of each other, but they are also definitely attracted to each other, an attraction that sizzles through each and every conversation they have with each other and it was brilliant. Every moment in this book was something that I adored, especially when it came with some amazing writing and characterizations.

Meghan has always been a brilliant writer and it shows in every aspect of the book, except for the climax. Do I get that there were secrets they both were keeping from each other? Yes, for we get both their POV’s (YAY!), but the kind of climax it came to, wasn’t the kind I was gearing up to read about! Maybe it was my high expectations with the kind of relationship I had seen, but somehow the climax ended up a bit unsatisfactory for me!

But even then, as a standalone romance from one of my favourite authors, will always be on my auto-buy list, and maybe when (not if!) I re-read this one again, my rating will again go up 😀

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Cheers, Pavi

My Rating (1)

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ .5

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Excerpt

 

“I’ve got some things I need to say to you, and you’re going to let me.”

Her brown eyes snap up to mine, surprise clear in them. “Why should I?”

“Because you’re nothing if not curious, and you want to know what I have to say.”

She steps backward, and I let my fingertips trail across her skin before they drop away. Justine adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders and tucks Chewbacca into a side pocket.

“You know you want to hear the rare sound of me apologizing, don’t you?”

Justine purses her lips, and all I can think about is the dreams I had all weekend of her staring down at me from a stage while she danced and stripped. My own private show. I’m not going to admit how many times I jacked off to the mental picture. I need the real thing, and I won’t have another shot if she won’t even give me a chance to talk to her.

I don’t know what changes her mind, but she relaxes her posture and relents. “Fine. You’ve got five minutes. This better be good.”

It’s not much, but I’ll take it. I lead the way out of the classroom, slipping out the side door I used to make my unobtrusive entrance. Or at least, it was unobtrusive until I decided to share my strike-out history with the entire class at Professor Turner’s invitation.

Glancing behind me, I’m marginally surprised to see Justine actually following. I head for the third-floor doors to the library, where the private rooms are. This conversation isn’t for public consumption.

The first private room on the right is empty, so I push the door open. Justine trails me inside, and I shrug off my backpack and drop it on one of the four chairs.

She closes the door behind her and leans against it, her arms crossed over her chest. I’m guessing she wouldn’t stand that way if she realized how it draws attention to her chest. I force my eyes back to her face. I’m not about to fuck this up.

“Wow, you must really plan on groveling if you need privacy,” she says, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

“Maybe I just wanted to get you alone.”

She rolls her eyes. “And I’m already getting bored.”

“You love to bust my balls, don’t you?”

“I don’t really like to think about your balls, if you want to know the truth.”

I try on my charming smile, the one that has dropped panties for years. “I’m calling bullshit on that. You’ve thought about me at least once.”

She pushes off the door and turns halfway to reach for the handle. “And if that’s all you wanted to say, then I think we’re done here.”

“Wait.”

I’m shocked when she listens.

Justine rubs her hands over her face, her every move revealing her frustration. “You ask me out for two years, practically blackmail me into a kiss, then you blow me off completely, and now you’re all up in my business again. What the hell do you want from me?”

Her confusion punches me in the gut, making me wish I could tell her why I wasn’t there the morning I promised to help her move. It wasn’t for any reason she thinks.

I stride toward her, pressing one palm against the door beside her head. “I’m not blowing you off, and I haven’t stopped thinking about that night.”

“Then why—”

I can’t give her the explanation she wants, so I try something different.

Lowering my head, I catch the next words out of her mouth on my lips. They’re just as soft as I remember, and I drop my other hand to her hip, drawing her against me. Her fingers curl into the fabric of my T-shirt, almost reluctantly, but she’s not pushing me away.

I take her mouth, my tongue diving between her lips to taste her again—finally, but the pulsing of my dick against the zipper of my jeans forces me to back off. If I don’t, I’ll be laying her out on the table behind us, and that’s not what this is about. At least, not all of what this is about.

With her face flushed and her hair messy from my fingers, Justine shutters her expression. She’s rebuilding her walls brick by brick.

That’s not going to work for me.

“What’s it going to take, Justine?” I remember asking her the same question at the bar.

Her dark eyes fill with confusion. “What’s what going to take?” The words come out defensively.

“With you. To get a second chance. I fucked up once, but doesn’t everyone deserve another shot?”

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About The Author (3)

meghanmarchpicMeghan March has been known to wear camo face paint and tromp around in woods wearing mud-covered boots, all while sporting a perfect manicure. She’s also impulsive, easily entertained, and absolutely unapologetic about the fact that she loves to read and write smut. Her past lives include slinging auto parts, selling lingerie, making custom jewelry, and practicing corporate law. Writing books about dirty talking alpha males and the strong, sassy women who bring them to their knees is by far the most fabulous job she’s ever had. She loves hearing from her readers at meghanmarchbooks@gmail.com.

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