Thursday, July 31, 2014

Blitz : Found In Us


Found in Us by Layla Hagen

(Lost #2)
Publication date: July 24th 2014
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance
Goodreads: Click
**This can be read as a STANDALONE. The second book in the Lost series tells Jessica and Parker’s story.**


All Jessica wants -as a college graduate — is to be a good girl. She landed the job of her dreams at a museum and is trying to eliminate temptations. No more short skirts (when she can help it). No wild parties. And no men.

She particularly excels at that last thing. . .

Until her path crosses Parker’s. Again. Jessica remembers the last time their paths crossed very well. She was left with a seriously bruised ego. She knows it would be best to avoid him altogether. But the charming Brit makes it hard for her to elude his electrifying pull. He is as irresistible as he is captivating.

And enigmatic.

Because underneath the sleek Armani suit and the sweet British accent that makes her crave his touch, Parker isn’t the perfect gentleman everyone thinks he is.

He’s exactly what Jessica doesn’t want, but desperately needs.
A bad, bad boy.


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I decide to use the dress as an excuse to leave early. To my dismay, Parker is leaning against the wall farther down the corridor, one or two turns away from the entrance to the bar. His eyes rest on the stain on my dress for a few seconds and my cheeks flare up instantly. I'm sure he can see the redness in them even in the dim light. 
"I have to go," I say. "My dress is soaked."
"I'll drive you home," he says, walking toward me. 
"No, you just got here. I'm sure you and Dani have lots to talk about." I actually take a step back, only to hit the wall behind me.
"I'd just drop you off and return. Are you afraid of being alone with me, Jessica?"
"No . . . it's just not necessary. I can take a cab."
"What are you afraid of?" he insists, stepping right in front of me. "That I'll try to seduce you and take you to bed? Do I really strike you like that kind of guy?"
Every inch of my body commands me to say yes. In my experience, men who don't look even half as godlike as he does are after one thing only. But his humiliating rejection all those months ago proves he isn't one of them. And nothing I've seen or heard about him indicated he’s a womanizer. But being so close to him makes it impossible to think rationally. 
I push him away, but with one swing he grabs both my hands and pins them against the wall above me. His lips are inches away from mine, the fingers of his free hand tracing the contour of my lips, leaving a trail of fire behind them. He's so close to me that I can feel every single hot breath against my lips. He locks eyes with me, and it's the sight of his blue eyes boring into mine—more than his proximity and his touch—that sets me on fire, causing an almost unbearable pressure between my thighs. 
He trails his fingers from my lips down to my chin and then slowly over my neck. I bite my lip when he presses gently with his thumb on the hollow of my neck, then proceeds with his torture farther down. His fingers peruse the hem of my neckline, at the exact point where the soaked fabric of the dress meets my skin, then slip under the fabric. Just a fraction of an inch.
Not enough to actually touch my breast. 
But more than enough to send me over the edge. 
"Damn you, Parker, kiss me," I whisper. He doesn't answer, the corner of his lips lifting in a delicious smile as he removes his hand from my neckline, letting it fall by his side. His eyes never leave mine. I wait, sucking in my breath, for him to lean forward and kiss me. After what feels like hours, he finally leans forward and kisses me. 
On my goddamn forehead.

Excerpt 2 (Attention! Extreme hotness alert)

"I can't make up my mind," Parker says. 
"About what?"
"About what I want to do with you."
I gulp. "Don't I get a say in this?"
He snaps his head up, chuckling. "Not really."
"That's not frustrating at all, you know? What are you thinking right now?"
He tugs his lower lip with his teeth. "You really want to know?"
"Yeah, I really want to know."
He shifts his weight on the edge of the seat, and when he leans forward this time, I don't back off. "I'm thinking I would very much like to see you come," he says into my ear. My mind doesn't register the full impact of his words right away. But my body does. "Anything against that, Jessica?" he whispers, his hand trailing up and down my inner thigh.
"N-no," I say in a low voice. So low that I hope he hasn't heard me. But he has. There's no other explanation as to why his hand has already found its way under my dress. 
"Turn around and spread your legs," he commands. 
"Parker," I mumble, "not here . . ."
"No one can see us, and Dani won't come back soon. Turn around." 
Despite knowing I shouldn't, I turn around. My body no longer seems to listen to any commands of mine. I lean my back against his chest, my head resting on his shoulder, my forehead touching the base of his neck. I look into the room, trying to gauge what those in the boxes opposite us can see. But I can barely see anything in the back row of the boxes directly in front of us. There's no reason to believe anyone could see us from there. Anyone looking from above won't have a clear view of the back row either. 
"Spread your legs," he repeats, his tone more authoritative than before. It sends another wave of heat through me. Burying myself in his neck, I open up for him. He doesn't touch me right away. He takes his time, trailing his fingers on the inside of my thigh, inciting a deep hunger in my core that grows with each inch of my skin he touches until I drop any pretense of shame and beg him, "Parker . . ."
When his fingers touch my intimate spot over my panties, I stiffen against him. 
"You're soaked," he says, and I take immense pleasure in the slight tremble in his voice. Then his fingers start rubbing me slowly, and I dig my own fingers in the cushion of the chair as a spasm wracks through me. 
This man will make me come. 
Here, surrounded by people and plush velvet-covered seats. 



My name is Layla Hagen and I am a New Adult Contemporary Romance author.
I fell in love with books when I was nine years old, and my love affair with stories continues even now, many years later.
I write romantic stories and can’t wait to share them with the world.
And I drink coffee. Lots of it, in case the photo didn’t make it obvious enough 

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1 comment:

  1. Thank you so much for participating in the blitz and for all your support :)

    Hugs,
    Layla

    ReplyDelete

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