Title: Say You're Mine: A Steamy, Opposites Attract, Contemporary Romance (Fortunato Family Series Book 2)
Author: Charlotte O’Shay
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Book Blurb:
SAY YOU'RE MINE, Book 2 in the Fortunato Family series, is a steamy, opposites attract romance set in NYC.
Did ShySky aka Skylar Bishop just kiss a random guy in a bar?
Skylar: I don't know what came over me but when my boyfriend stood me up...again, and I saw this guy—the one with tormented eyes and a shiner on his sculpted cheekbone—mangle his words in a crowded bar, I couldn't help myself. Now he figures I’ll tumble into his bed—because I kissed him without knowing his name.
But one kiss is all I'll take because he’d never go the distance for a woman with my issues.
Women love Fighting Finnegan Fortunato's body and he’s not complaining.
Finn: Actions speak louder than words and I’ve learned to let my fists do my talking. Women want my tatted boxer’s body more than romantic words I can never give them and that's the way I've always liked it. But when a sleek uptown woman knocks me out with a fiery kiss, everything changes.
Now I have to find the words to make her mine.
When serendipity brings them together, will they fight for their forever?
Excerpt:
At first, I didn’t so much see her as sense her, a sleek oasis of cool composure amid the jostling, half-drunk crowd. A partial view gained with one quick glance told me she had perfect posture and toned arms. Trying to get a better look, I shifted a step sideways on my line, my sore limbs tight, ungainly and the complete opposite of her effortless grace. Classy. Then the rest of her came into view and my battered body came back to throbbing life.
She wore the black, spaghetti strapped dress like a princess, except damned if I saw any evidence she wore a thing underneath the skintight, satiny slip dress. Naughty princess. Long, glossy curls were caught up in a high ponytail, the better to appreciate her delicate neck and the waterfall of diamonds dangling from her ears. How did I know they were diamonds? I didn’t. The only real diamond I’d ever seen was Ma’s modest engagement ring but I didn’t need a college degree to know this woman was the real deal. No doubt she wore genuine everything, or didn’t bother wearing it all. My gaze slid from the long line of her back to her generous peach of an ass, and there was no doubt in my mind. She wasn’t wearing a damn thing under her dress. You might’ve thought my body was too beat up by tonight’s fight to respond to the sight of a stunning woman or the fantasy of what her lush body would look like naked. You’d be wrong.
I forced myself to look away from her distracting beauty, willed my muscles to relax. A few deep breaths later, I couldn’t help but let my gaze slide back again, this time to appreciate her serene profile, the fragile line of her collarbone, the yards of creamy skin in perfect contrast to the rippling black satin clinging lovingly to her curves. Our eyes met for a half second, hers wide and gray. Discipline ordered me to snap my gaze back to her pointed chin unless I wanted the whole bar to witness my unmistakable physical reaction to her.
Despite the popular bull among my family and friends about my unending conquests of willing women, I’d been in a self-imposed dry spell. I couldn’t even recall the last time I’d been with a woman. Last summer? With my training schedule and day job, my time was limited and man, some days I just felt too fucking old. Time spent with a woman in any capacity had to be worth it. Instinct told me this uptown girl would be worth every second I could devote to her.
When her line moved up, she stepped forward. And yeah. I couldn’t help it. My gaze followed her moves like an overeager puppy angling for a treat, honing in on her legs as the body skimming fabric opened, the slit exposing a long length of smooth thigh for one excruciating second before it fell back into place. My Adam’s apple was like a boulder in my throat. I was hard—everywhere.
“Hey pal, you gonna order?” The loud voice behind me edged on nasty and my gaze swung back to the bar. Kendra was looking at me expectantly. Like she’d been waiting. While I’d been fixated on a gorgeous knockout of a woman, I’d kept the entire line waiting.
“Ba-c-c-cardi c-coke, t-two Guinnesses, Maker’s neat,” I said. I angled my chin toward our corner table so she’d know we all wanted another round.
“Yuh, yo, buh, buh, buddy…” The guy behind me snickered as he imitated my stutter and the ever present, combustible mix of shame and rage flared, burning my neck. Fuck. I had to stutter now?—in front of her? My lips tightened as the familiar humiliation washed over me even as I swiveled to knock the asshole’s lights out.
“Aw, babe, thanks! You didn’t have to order for me.” The woman I couldn’t stop staring at, the uptown blonde in the slinky dress, was in front of me, speaking to me. Her smoky gaze met my what-the-hell-is-happening one before she planted her hands flat on my pecs, leaned in and sealed her lips over mine. One second I was set to knock a jerk into next Tuesday and the next, I had my arms full of warm, curvy woman. She went from a coolly composed dream girl one moment to a fiery siren the next. And now she was kissing me like we’d been separated for ten lifetimes.
That was when I did what any man in my place would do, what I’d been fantasizing about since I first spotted her standing there. Tugging her tight against me, I kissed her back. Her lush body fit mine like a puzzle piece, snug and welcoming. With her generous breasts pushed tight against my chest, and her body arching into my already hardened flesh, I forgot everything except the need to feel her. Fill her. Skin to skin. Closer. I lifted my hand to her jaw, cupping the underside, finding velvet skin. Urgent and clumsy, I angled my head to deepen the kiss. Totally in tune with me, trusting, she opened her mouth as she melted into me, arms circling my neck like she’d done it a million times.
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Psst, book one (My Only One) is on sale for only 99 cents!
Author Biography:
There’s only one thing award-winning, best-selling, romance author Charlotte O’Shay loves more than reading steamy contemporary romance. Writing them. Charlotte lives with her real life hero, Mac in NYC where walks along the Hudson River serve up fresh story ideas every day.
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