Cards of Love: Nine of Swords (Cards of Love) by Bella Love-Wins

 

  Sins Of The Father… Amazing Read!

I have never quite read anything like this as a storyline before and I am so pleased that I did read this fabulous story.  Bella Love-Wins has exceeded my expectations and then some with this book. Such amazing characters in Sydney who has suffered so much in her life and is always looking over her shoulder and Blade who is hired by a mysterious person to ‘protect’ her even though she doesn’t know anything about it until he corners her in her apartment and saves her from assassins.  Blade has had an awful childhood so they can emphasise with each other but it’s the passion between them that neither expected.  But once tasted they are addicted  and can’t get enough of each other – it’s not just lust now. It’s so very much more.  But then the mysterious person takes Blade off the case and his friend Eric [nice guy and I hope we meet him again and maybe get to read his HEA?]  But then she receives the letter that informs her that she and her children will never, ever be safe!  Can Blade protect her? Find out by reading this fantastic story and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did.  Blade was so easy to have as a hero and love.  I felt so sorry and yet admired how strong Sydney is in stoppable.  I received a reader’s copy of this book and voluntarily leave my honest opinion of it here. Most Definitely Recommended – I’m looking forward to her next book.

CARDS OF LOVE: NINE OF SWORDS by Bella Love-Wins

 

EXCERPT OF CARDS OF LOVE: NINE OF SWORDS

Copyright (c) Bella Love-Wins 2018. All Rights Reserved. Subject to final edits.

BLADE

“I should go,” she whispers in a tone that’s as hesitant as the tentative expression on her face as she sits there on the side of the bed.

I want to see her shed all of that bravado for a minute.

Or for a night.

I’d like nothing more than to hold onto her and pull her body onto my lap, pressing her round, firm ass into my stiff member.

And to tell her to relax.

To let it all go.

To just be.

Or to be… with me.

As in on her bed, against the nearest wall, or any flat surface as she so desires.

“No. You shouldn’t,” I say firmly, and flash a hint of a one sided-smile. “This is your room. I’m the one who should get out of your hair so you can relax. Unless you want me to stay. We can keep talking… or I can stay and we can just…not do any talking at all. Up to you.”

She shrugs one shoulder and looks at nothing in particular, her head still facing forward as though looking my way would give too much away. “I don’t know… it’s been a while since I opened up to anyone about myself. Or maybe I never have. I supposed we can keep talking.” She throws me a glance, and I see a bit of playfulness flash across her face. “Wait, what did you mean by we can just not talk?”

“There’s a whole lot going on… between you and me. Tell me you don’t sense it.”

“Sense what exactly?” she pries shyly.

“This. Us. Chemistry. Attraction. Fire. Whatever you want to call it. Tell me you don’t feel that, Sydney,” I demand in a low, raspy whisper.

“All right. There’s… something,” she admits after a long pause.

I slowly lower our locked hands, letting the back of her hand rest on my knee. “Good.”

“So… now what?” she asks, and I hold my tongue, avoiding an answer, waiting for more from her.

That’s when I notice the very subtle way her body turns toward me. Only her leg nearest to me moves, parting slightly, showing more of her bare inner thighs. And I start to wonder if she’s wearing anything under this blouse. The hem of it rests at her upper thighs, not revealing much, except for the hint of a triangular line where her thighs touch and meet her mound. My mouth starts to water as I imagine what she must taste like. Honey, maybe. Or fruity. Definitely sweet and sinful.

“You’re staring,” she adds, shifting a little in her spot. “I’m really not great at… all of this.”

“Tell me what you want,” I say in a low, growling demand and lick my lips. Her little movement gave away something critical. I can smell her need. Her scent. And it wasn’t there before now. I know because every one of my senses is highly attuned, trained to detect the slightest of differences around me. Sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. What it tells me is that not only is she not wearing any panties, but that the simple connection of our hands, our proximity, our sitting in her bed, our earlier conversation, it all has made her wet with arousal.

It’s unmistakable.

And I’m the cause of it.