Today, I’m so excited to be able to give you a sneak peek at The Fifteenth Minute by Sarina Bowen with an exclusive excerpt! COMING OCTOBER 13TH!
Freshman Lianne Challice is known to millions of fans as Princess Vindi. But sometimes a silver screen sorceress just wants to hang up her wand, tell her manager to shove it, and become a normal college student. Too bad that’s harder than it looks.
She’s never lived a normal life. She hasn’t been to school since kindergarten. And getting close to anyone is just too risky — the last boy she kissed sold the story to a British tabloid.
But she can’t resist trying to get close to Daniel “DJ” Trevi, the hot, broody guy who spins tunes for hockey games in the arena. There’s something haunting his dark eyes and she needs to know more.
DJ’s genius is for expressing the mood of the crowd with a ten second song snippet. With just a click and a fade, he can spread hope, pathos or elation among six thousand screaming fans.
Too bad his college career is about to experience the same quick fade-out as one of his songs. He can’t get close to Lianne, and he can’t tell her why. And the fact that she seems to like him at all? Incredible.
“There you are!”
The sound of Lianne’s happy voice makes me smile immediately. She breezes into the kitchen and hops up onto the counter beside me. But it’s a pretty good distance off the floor for someone so short, and maybe the edge where she puts her hand is still wet, because she doesn’t quite manage it. My hockey reflexes kick in and I step in front of her before she can tumble off and onto the floor.
Her body pitches against my chest with a warm thud, her chin landing at my shoulder. My arms are full of a pretty girl in a soft sweater.
“Whoops,” she whispers. But instead of struggling backward, she puts her hands up to cup the back of my neck. Then she turns her face into my neck and takes a deep breath. “Mmm.”
My hands land at her hips, and I give a shiver. She has no idea how potent it is to stand here pressed against her. Each of my senses leaps to attention. And when her lips press against my jaw, I let out a quiet groan.
Lianne lifts her head to look into my eyes at close range. “Hi,” she says with a shy grin.
I don’t get a chance to answer, because that’s when she kisses me, her soft smile landing on mine. “Mmh,” I hear myself say as she presses closer. And holy God, we’re off to the races. I take over, deepening the kiss. When I part her lips with my tongue, she whimpers into my mouth. She tastes like limes and happiness.
Kissing Lianne is magic. Her soft lips turn down the volume on all my worries. Even the party fades from my consciousness as my tongue begins to stroke hers.
My hips press forward as we kiss, and Lianne’s knees tighten around my body, as if she wants to make sure I’m not about to leave her. I’m pressed into the warm center of her, diving into her mouth while she melts like butter against my body. She makes a needy sound in the back of her throat, and I feel it everywhere. Her hands weave into my hair and I pull her closer. We’ve extinguished all the empty places between our bodies. But still we shift against one another, just double-checking that there’s no way we could get any closer without losing all our clothes.
I’m standing in my kitchen and so turned on it’s ridiculous.
Then her lips disappear from mine, and for a split second I’m crestfallen. But then she’s worshipping my neck with soft, open-mouthed kisses. And Jesus H, it’s amazing. The sweep of her tongue at my throat brings me more alive than I’ve felt in months.
Somebody moans, and I’m pretty sure it’s me. My body is screaming for more. And I can’t remember why I ever resisted her.
“I like that,” Lianne sighs between kisses.
“Hmm?” It’s hard to listen when she’s setting me on fire.
“You made a noise. A good one.” Then she giggles.
Oh, hell. I cup the back of her head and slowly pull away, getting a good look at her. And, damn it, all the signs are there—her eyes aren’t focusing well, and her smile is blurry. “Aw, buddy,” I say, kissing her once more, softly. “How many margaritas did you have?”
She gives me a sloppy grin. “Doesn’t take much. I’m a cheap date. Can we go into your bedroom now?” She punctuates this request with a little burp, and then another giggle. “Please?” She leans against me, running a hand down my chest. “Mmm, I just want to lick you everywhere.”
This time when I groan, it’s with disappointment. Because no licking is about to happen. I’d never get busy with a drunk girl. And I shouldn’t get busy with Lianne, anyway. The timing is terrible, no matter how much I like her. “Smalls, we can’t do this tonight,” I say gently. But I can’t back away, because if I do, she’ll tumble off the counter.
“Why?” she yelps. “Is it because I’m socially awkward? Is it because I’m fun sized?”
“It’s because you’re wasted.” Chuckling, I give her one last kiss, this one on the nose.
Sarina Bowen writes steamy, angsty Contemporary Romance and New Adult fiction from the wilds of Vermont.
She is the author of The Ivy Years, an award-winning series set amid the hockey team at an elite Connecticut college.
The Fifteenth Minute is available for pre-order on AMAZON.