Title: Keep Me
Author: Faith Andrews
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Day: January 28th 2014
Synopsis:
Sexy, tatted up, underwear model Marcus Grayson is every girl’s dream—or more likely worst nightmare. He’s a player, a self-proclaimed bachelor for life, and he’s got no problem living up to his man-whore status. But when his older sister’s friend comes back from the past, he may just have the chance to turn some of his adolescent fantasies into reality.
Tessa Bradley is a self-sufficient, take-no-bull, single mother—well, now she is. Finally rid of her abusive, alcoholic ex, she’s making a new life for herself and catching up with old friends; the ones she was forced to break ties with because of her controlling husband. When she runs into Marcus, her friend Riley’s once-adorable turned smoking-hot little brother, she has no idea how he’s about to rock her world.
You wanted me then, now you can have me. Just promise you’ll Keep Me…
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Excerpt:
The bright morning sun crept its way through the tiny cracks in the blinds. I sprawled out across the bed, stretching and yawning and enjoying that I’d woken up on my own accord and not to the wailing of…
“Luca!” I jumped up out of the bed and ran to Luca’s nursery. When I found his crib empty, the room absent of his yummy morning smell and the sound of his pleasant after-slumber cooing my heart sank to my toes. Tears pricked my eyes and a strangling lump formed in my throat. My thoughts were rampant and illogical as I tossed stuffed animals and blankets and pillows as if he were hiding from me.
“LUCA!” I shrieked, screaming like it would make him appear. My worst nightmare was coming true. My baby boy was gone. Zack took him from me! It was the only explanation. My heart thudded so violently that the blood that kept it pumping was deafening. The panic that took over my body was so powerful that it hindered every one of my senses. I was incoherent to the sound of the voice coming from the man trying to shake me out of my paralysis.
When I noticed he was holding my son—my happy, laughing, here-in-the-flesh son—I came to, relieved. “Give him to me, please!” I snatched Luca out of the strong, tattooed arms that cradled him, kissing his chubby cheeks, his wiggly arms and the entire length of him until I felt he was covered in my affection. Tears dampened my face, plastering long strands of hair to my skin. I squeezed Luca so tight he started to cry, too.
“Jesus, Tessa, you okay?”
I gulped back a sob and tried to compose myself. “I thought he was taken.” Saying the words aloud made the situation that much more grave. I resumed my kiss attack on my son, inhaling him as if it was some kind of reunion.
“Taken? Who would. . .” Marcus trailed off, scratching his head. His eyes wore a heartwarming mixture of concern, fear and bewilderment. “I’m sorry, Tess. I heard him get up and you were still sleeping and I thought…”
Heart rate finally back to normal, I answered him calmly. “It’s okay, Marcus. Really. It’s not your fault. I overreacted and overslept and…” And must’ve completely forgotten that Marcus spent the night on my couch.
“I would’ve never. . .I mean, if I knew…”
I’d scared him half to death and made a fool out of myself in the meantime. And suddenly his glowing morning appearance was the reason for my shortness of breath. His chest was bare, the muscular ridges of his perfect physique accented by incredible artwork of all different colors, sizes and shapes. He wore the same jeans from the night before, hanging on his hips and revealing the most defined—and delectable—v-shaped abdomen I’d ever had the pleasure of witnessing. The terror that ripped through me moments ago was replaced by something that scared me still. Wanting. Craving. Longing.
“Mama. Mama.”
My attention no longer cemented on Marcus, I squealed, “What? What did you just say, Luca man?”
Luca was focused on the stuffed bear in his hands, sucking on its nose and then shaking it in the air.
“He said something?” Mr. Shirtless and Gorgeous stood there confused.
“Yes! Didn’t you hear him? He just said mama. Didn’t you, buddy? Didn’t you?” I couldn’t control the baby talk now. I was elated.
“So he mumbled a sound that most babies use to describe everything from the poop in their diaper to the booger in their nose. What’s the big deal?”
I shook my head, sneering at the gorgeous dimwit in front of me. “The big deal is that’s the first time he’s said it and he isn’t talking about a booger, wiseass. He was talking to me.”
“If you say so. And just so you know, there is definitely shit. . .I mean, poop, in that diaper of his.”
Laughing at Marcus and his failed attempt at domestication I walked over to the changing table and laid Luca down to clean him up. “I’m sorry about before. I didn’t mean to sound like a nutcase.”
Marcus kept his distance as I lifted Luca’s legs in the air and used a baby wipe to erase his mess. “No need to explain. I shouldn’t have taken him out of his room without asking you, but you looked so peaceful and I was up. I just…”
“It was sweet. Really. I appreciate it.” He was sweet. The gesture was endearing and I should be thanking him for it.
“Not as much as I appreciate your lack of pants right now.”
What? Oh shit! “Oh my God. My pants. Get out…I mean, go downstairs. Damn it, Marcus!” In my panic stricken state I’d run straight into Luca’s room without pulling on my pajama bottoms. I was standing in front of Tall, Dark and Shirtless in nothing but a skimpy t-shirt and a thong!
“Nothing to be embarrassed about, you look hot!” he called from downstairs.
Yeah, right. Nothing to be embarrassed about. First I make out with him all night, then I cop a feel, then I have a panic attack, and now my whole ass was hanging out for him to see. “Luca, Mommy is a mess.”
About the Author:
Faith Andrews lives in New York where she is happily married to her high school sweetheart. They have two beautiful daughters and a furry Yorkie son, Rocco. If she isn’t listening to Mumford and Sons or busy being a Dance Mom, her nose is in a book or her laptop. She’s a sucker for a happily ever after and believes her characters are out there living one somewhere . . .
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