I’m that guy.
Camilla Landry rustles against me, the silky fabric of her overpriced lingerie slipping along my bruised rib. The porcelain perfection of her skin is even more innocent against the colorful ink dotting my own. It’s demure meets damaged, pampered meets punctured.
So, yeah, it’s obvious I’m that guy. Dominic Hughes. Her attempt at rebellion. Her bid to see what the other side of the tracks feel like. I’m okay with being used because, from where I’m sitting, the other side of the tracks have never looked so good.
This is my first foray into the Landry Family and I have no idea how this family even stayed out of my sight for this long!
The synopsis of this book made sure that I was already excited to read it – but what cinched the deal for me was the beautiful simple writing style of the author!
Camilla Landry is the baby of the family; a baby who has been already over-protected by her older siblings; but she has all the makings of a rebel as well! She did not expect her love life to go the way of Dominic Hughes, but apparently a chemistry that explosive cannot be denied.
Dominic Hughes is from the wrong side of town; he has not known the loving touch of a family like Landry’s and thus, believes that he is the one act of rebellion Cam has decided for herself. Though he is enchanted by her; he believes that they can go nothing beyond this act of rebellion, even though he would definitely like to!
I absolutely adored the push and pull relationship these two had – the chemistry between them was brilliantly explosive and I swear, I even saw stars sometimes 😉
Swink is apparently the last of the Landry book – and I honestly a part of me is glad that I found the Landry Family at the end of the series – for now I can binge – read about the rest of the family, without the wait for the rest of the books – I am definitely not patient enough to wait for books to come out ❤
⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐
He’s standing in the doorway, one hand on the sweatpants that hang just below his chiseled hips and the other leans on the frame. The tattoos that mark his flesh are vivid against his bare skin, making the blues of his eyes shine.
He flashes a lopsided smile my way. “Took you long enough.”
“I don’t drive like a bat out of hell,” I laugh, stepping past him. “Did you shower already?”
“Yeah. I smelled like gym floors.”
“As long as you don’t smell like gym whores,” I say, setting the bags on the table in the kitchen.
His laugh is contagious and I feel myself smiling. A set of arms cage me in from behind, grasping the table on both sides of me. My skin breaks out in a shiver as his lips find the sensitive spot behind my ear.
His face buries in the crook of my neck and he takes a long, leisurely breath. “You smell so good.”
“Keep doing that,” I say, relaxing my head onto his chest.
“What?”
“Talking with your mouth against me.”
“You like this?” he asks all breathily so that each word whispers across my skin.
My eyes fall closed as I relish in this moment of nothing but him. “No, I love this.”
“Can I tell you a little secret?”
“As long as you keep talking, you can tell me whatever you want.”
He chuckles, dotting kisses up and down my neck. “I love this too, feeling your body give up the fight of the day and let me take over.” He turns me in his arms so I’m facing him. “I love that you trust me enough to let your shoulders sink out of that perfect posture you walk around with.”
As he reaches up and undoes the elastic in my hair, I watch his features soften. He moves carefully, unwrapping the tie from the twisted mess in my locks, careful not to pull.
“There,” he says, cupping the back of my head through my long tresses, “that’s better.”
“You don’t like my hair up?”
“Not like you had it. You look to lunching-y,” he says, wrinkling his nose.
“Lunching-y?”
“Yes,” he grins.
“You are too cute.”
“You are too fucking sexy.”
Reaching up, I swipe the pad of my thumb over the cut above his eye. He flinches, but just for a second. “What happened?”
“Bond’s right hand.”
“I hate him.”
“So do I,” he snickers.
“Let’s get some ice for it.”
He leans in, his brows tugging together. “Let’s not.” His eyes hood as he takes me in, his tongue darting out and wetting his lips. My knees weaken, my body humming with delight at his reaction.
“I want to take care of you,” I whisper, although that’s really on the backburner now. “Let me baby you.”
Instead, he lifts me up and places me on the table. My stomach clenches as he positions himself between my thighs, my sundress curling at my waist. I ring my legs around him, pulling him so close that the soft cotton of his sweatpants rubs against my opening.
He looks down. “You aren’t wearing panties.”
USA Today Bestselling author Adriana Locke lives and breathes books. After years of slightly obsessive relationships with the flawed bad boys created by other authors, Adriana has created her own.
She resides in the Midwest with her husband, sons, and two dogs. She spends a large amount of time playing with her kids, drinking coffee, and cooking. You can find her outside if the weather’s nice and there’s always a piece of candy in her pocket.
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For The Love of Fictional Worlds 