THE CONSEQUENCE OF
SEDUCTION
By: Rachel Van Dyken
Page Numbers Source ISBN: 1503953017
Publisher: Skyscape
Publication Date: February 9, 2016
From New York Times, USA Today, and Wall Street Journal bestselling
author Rachel Van Dyken.
Reid Emory has never had reason to question his luck with
the ladies. As the owner of a lethal set of aqua-blue eyes and a devastating
grin, this Hollywood heartthrob always brings his A game…but lately his luck
seems to have run out. The actor is in need of some help, and there’s only one
person he can trust to take his love life—and his career—to an explosive new
level.
Jordan Litwright’s newest client is trying her patience. As
a publicist, she’s more than content to stay in the background and let others
shine. But when a publicity stunt backfires, she suddenly finds herself thrust
into the spotlight—as Reid’s new love interest. And while other men usually
overlook her, Reid is focusing in with laserlike intensity. There’s no denying
they have serious chemistry.
But once Reid breaks into the big time, can they turn their
made-for-the-media romance into a forever love?
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EXCERPT:
I wasn’t nervous. Please. The
nervous guy was always played by a dude who had no fashion sense, had never kissed
a girl, and thought that foreplay was an actual play—in baseball.
I had killer fashion.
Had kissed tons of girls—even secured my first by the age of
four from a six-year-old riding the bus to school.
And foreplay was my specialty. I like to think that some men are
just gifted in that area—not to boast, but I’m one of them.
Oh, and I was a hell of a baseball player.
So that weird, shaky feeling currently residing in my stomach,
slithering its way up my chest? Heartburn.
I popped two Tums.
“Hey, you okay?” Jordan asked. Her big brown eyes were makeup
free—making them look even prettier—more natural. She’d given up on her hair so
it was wildly cascading in every direction known to mankind, giving her a sex
kitten look I wasn’t at all comfortable her sporting outside my apartment.
“Yeah.” I coughed. “Heartburn.”
“Weird. I wonder why you have heartburn after all those shots,
five slices of pizza, and three glasses of red wine?”
I grinned. “Beats me.”
She rolled her eyes and grabbed the remote from my hand.
“What are you doing?” I asked calmly, trying to keep my voice
from shaking.
“Changing the channel?” she answered without looking at me. “The
movie ended an hour ago and you usually go to bed at eleven,
so . . .”
“But this is date night.”
“Uh-huh, and now date night is over. I’ll tell you what.” She
turned and tucked her legs beneath her. “Since you’re new at this whole dating
thing, I’ll give you a free pass and let you in on a little secret.”
“I’m listening.” Okay, so I was trying to listen while my eyes zeroed
in on her low-cut blouse and fringes of the black lacy bra that was peeking
from beneath. Focus. Focus. Focus. Did she have pizza sauce on her breast?
“When girls come home from a date, they don’t take a hot shower
and run their hands all over their body moaning and groaning and replaying
every touch, every caress, every kiss.”
Can’t. Look. Away. I leaned forward. Yup, definitely pizza
sauce. “Well, that’s disappointing.”
“Usually, they pour themselves a glass of wine, toss off their
tall heels, turn on the TV, put on their sweats, and read while New
Girl plays in the background.”
How was it possible she wasn’t aware she had food on her chest?
“Reid, are you listening?”
“Of course I am!” I nodded. “Wine, heels, TV, books, New
Girl.” I know, neat trick, right? Just pull the details out of what they said
and repeat them. Works nine times out of ten. Unless you’re Max. If you’re Max,
you usually just get punched, because he tends to brag about the fact he
remembered in the first place.
“What?” Jordan looked down. “What are you staring at?”
“Sauce.”
“Huh?”
“Sauce.” I pointed. “Right there.”
Jordan rolled her eyes. “I’m not falling for that trick where
you point and I look down and you hit me in the face. How old are you, ten?”
“No, seriously.” I moved forward. “You have pizza sauce right
here.” I swiped it with my thumb and then licked it off.
“That should be gross,” she breathed.
“I know.”
“But it was kind of sexy.”
“I know.”
“Stop saying ‘I know.’”
I smirked. “Sorry . . . oh, look, you have
something right here too.”
This time she did look down. And my ten-year-old self cheered as
I knocked her in the chin and said, “Gotcha.”
Defeated, her shoulders slumped forward. “I deserved that.”
“I couldn’t help myself.” I watched in a hypnotic trance as her
tongue sneaked out and teased her lower lip. It was the perfect moment for a
kiss, but the line had been . . . skewed. I wasn’t sure if
it was okay, in the privacy of my apartment, to actually kiss her. I mean, I’d
kissed her, but this felt different, more intimate.
“This is the part”—Jordan leaned forward and gripped my shirt
with both hands—“where you either kiss me or cough awkwardly, make an excuse,
scratch your balls, and cower back in your bedroom.”
“Wow, so many choices,” I mused, meeting her halfway. “Eenie, meenie,
minie—” Our mouths met in a frenzy. She tasted like wine and pizza.
Holy shit, it was hotter than it should have been.
My hands moved to her hips as I tried to pull her onto my lap.
But her skirt was too tight.
“Damn it.” I tugged harder and heard a split.
Jordan reared back. “Did you just rip my skirt?”
“Small tear.”
“Rip.”
“No.” I gripped the fabric until it gave with a scratchy tearing
sound. “That’s a rip.” With a grin I tossed the discarded remains onto the
ground.
Jordan stared at the skirt for a few seconds before wrapping her
legs around my torso and fusing her mouth with mine. “You owe me a skirt.”
“Can I rip you out of that one too?”
She laughed against my mouth. I stood, lifting her with me, and
walked her backward toward my bedroom.
We looked good. She was half-naked, sexy, I was carrying her
around like a badass, and then things went . . . south.
And not a good south.
“Watch out for my shoes—”
I tripped over two spiked heels, sending Jordan flying into the
wall. She slid down said wall and landed on the plant—yes, the plant, the one she’d kept alive
for all those years.
“My plant!” she yelled. I burst out laughing as remnants of dirt
and plant sifted through her hands. “You
killed it!”
“Whoa!” I held up my hands and backed up, tripping over the damn
shoes again and stumbling to the floor.
I shit you not, Jordan giddyup crawled toward me, faster than
lightning, straddled me, and started fighting.
“We’ll get you a new plant!” I yelled as she smacked my chest. I
gripped her wrists and flipped her onto her back. “Don’t you think—”
She bucked beneath me.
“—it was probably time to let the plant go? You know, cut the
apron strings!”
“It’s not my child!” she wheezed, tuckering herself out.
“Exactly.” I nodded, then released her hand and patted her
cheek.
Her eyes went wild.
REVIEW: 4.25 OF 5 STARS
I always feel like I start out my reviews for Rachel Van Dyken's the same. Something along the lines of "How does she always write a good book???" But she totally does! Reid and Jordan's story is no different. If you loved the first two books in The Consequence series, you will love this one too.
You probably remember Reid from the first books. He is Max's brother that was accosted by Milo's grandmother. He is a master at getting women, but is off his game. He also has just landed the movie role of a lifetime and if he doesn't get things in his life in order, it might just be his last.
Enter Jordan Litwright, publicist extrodinaire. I LOVE this character. Possibly because she is a klutz, speaks her mind all the time, and refuses to take BS off of Reid. She is such a fun character to read and I can relate to her. Anyone else fall down steps on the way to work besides me? Well, Jordan would so she is my new book BFF. :) Reid and Jordan might be polar opposites, however, they are hot and attract like magnets!
Max is an added bonus for fun and humor. His mind is similar to Grandma Nadine and if those two are ever in a room together you better watch out. LOL! So, if you love some crazy antics, fun, humor and just good HEA, then pick this one up and enjoy!
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