What happens in Aspen is definitely not staying in Aspen . . .
A girls’ trip to Aspen was exactly what Shay needed to forget about her toxic ex-boyfriend. She’s got her girls, pristine slopes for skiing, and hot guys everywhere. Of course, her epic self-rediscovery goes completely to hell when a wild (and deliciously hot) skier knocks Shay on her ass . . . and war is declared.
Kolton doesn’t know what it is about Shay that makes him lose it. Not just his cool—although she does have an unholy gift for that—but his restraint. When anger gives way to explosive chemistry, they’re both shaken with the intensity of it. But somewhere between lust and hate, Kolton and Shay realize they could have something real . . . if they don’t kill each other first.
I’m laidback. And fun. A fuck of a lot of fun. I’m practically the definition of cool. Another minute passes, and I fist my hands. Another second and I clench my jaw, ready to spit teeth. This chick doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She doesn’t know me from Adam. I’m the guy who spent an entire night slathering butter in the hallways of our frat house and videoed suckers sliding around in the morning. I’m the dude who painted ten plastic tarantulas, making them look insanely real, and planted them at the Sigma Chi house. The boys jumped a mile, their girly screams rivaling any B-horror film.
Shay doesn’t know jack about me.
By the time the door swings inward, blood rushes in my ears. She steps toward the hallway, and I’m ready to give her a piece of my mind for, well, whatever. She’s pushed so many of my buttons; I don’t even know why I’m so pissed. Her eyes are downcast, her focus on her tits as she reaches in to adjust that red bra. More lace. More skin.
My anger spins into lust.
Before she looks up, I’m pushing her back into the bathroom and kicking the door shut behind me. I pin her against the counter, our bodies flush, my erection straining, and I’m about to slam my mouth on hers, but reason takes hold. I pull back, unsure why I’m putting the moves on a girl who pretty much hates me. Then she says, “Now’s not the time to get shy.”
Maybe hate is a strong word.
Roughly, I claim her lips. No more talking. No more snarky remarks. Hunger consumes me, every irritation from today releasing as our tongues collide and chests heave. And fuck, those lips—even softer than they look, but sure and demanding.
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About Kelly Siskind
A small-town girl at heart, Kelly moved from the city to open a cheese shop with her husband in Northern Ontario. When she’s not neck deep in cheese or out hiking, you can find her, notepad in hand, scribbling down one of the many plot bunnies bouncing around in her head.
She laughs at her own jokes and has been known to eat her feelings—Gummy Bears heal all. She’s also an incurable romantic, devouring romance novels into the wee hours of the morning.
She is represented by Stacey Donaghy of the Donaghy Literary Group.
2015 Golden Heart® Finalist
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