Too Hard to Resist
By Olivia Starke
Genre: Erotic Contemporary Romance
Jamie knows Mark is all wrong for her, but he's so damned hard to resist.
Jamie Shultzer's life is in a tailspin. Her husband has left her for another man, and to top it off, she's stranded on a desolate highway in the middle of Nebraska. The last thing she needs is another complication, especially when it shows up as the tall, sexy as hell, and much too young for her, Mark Adams. Though to be fair, he's only ten years too young, and she has to find some way to repay him for rescuing her.
Mark wants to be the good guy and leave Jamie alone. After all, her son is his friend and Jamie is in the middle of a divorce. But he's been smitten with her since the first time he laid eyes on her years ago. Now that she's available, it's hard to say no to her sweet tasting lips, and even harder to walk away from her willing body.
Is this the start of something wonderful, or a disaster in the making?
Content Warning: contains graphic sex and explicit language
Jamie's car rolled to a stop by the curb in front of her home. Mark hopped out and started undoing the chains that he’d attached to the undercarriage of her vehicle. She got out of the truck and stared at the dark front porch. It looked so vacant and unwelcoming.
"Don't drive it until you fill it with coolant." Mark gave the hood of her car a pat. "Or at least water."
"Okay, where do I put said coolant or water?"
In the glow of her security light, Mark gave her a grin that could be called nothing less than dashing. Crooked, with the adorable dimple that she remembered when he'd made a brief appearance at her son's college graduation party. He walked past, a little too close, and his body brushed hers. He smelled of clean wet earth. The black t-shirt he wore fit the play of toned muscle beneath it to perfection. Jamie licked her lips; she'd like to approach him like a popsicle. Lick him head to toe and back up again.
They'd seemed to have shared a moment of chemistry while driving back to her place. She grasped onto the way Mark had looked at her. The way a man looks at a woman he desperately wants to kiss. Jamie couldn't remember the last time she'd experienced such a feeling. It'd been startling and she'd panicked.
Mark reached inside and popped the hood before walking to the front of her car.
"Come over here."
His voice was low, gravelly, seductive, and she floated toward his command like a moth to a flame. She'd come anywhere, and anytime, with him. Bad porn music started to play in her head. Bom chica wow wow.
She squeezed her eyes shut. Good God, she would be in the middle of a messy divorce soon, what the hell was wrong with her?
"You'll want to put it in here." He pointed to a part of the engine that looked like a square plastic container.
Her head was swimming; lack of oxygen most likely. Her blood had rushed south to her naughty regions.
"Okay." Her voice squeaked, and she cleared her throat.
"You don't want to fill it to the top, her unit can't take that. Just put it to here."
Oh, come on! The double entendres were killing her.
She couldn't help but notice his long, strong fingers. Long fingers might mean a long…
"Uh-huh, great." She bit into her top lip until it stung.
"So, that should be it." He dropped the hood and brushed his hands together. "Do you need anything else, Mrs. Shultzer?" It was an open-ended question on his part that left Jamie with way too many answers.
Buy Links: Beachwalk Press Amazon Barnes & Noble
Olivia Starke calls the Ozarks home. One of the most beautiful areas in the country, she loves hiking trails with her dogs, kayaking on the numerous waterways, and enjoying southern Missouri’s fresh air and sunshine.
She’s also ‘Mom’ to four dogs, a growing number of kitties that show up at her door, and four VERY spoiled horses that do little to earn their keep. Not that she’d ever hold that against them.
She’s a HUGE fangirl of Doctor Who and to a lesser extent Supernatural, and has a pretty interesting love triangle (or square?) going on in her head between the Doctor and the Winchesters.
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Musings from Michigan