The
Tour
by
Shelby Rebecca
(Phoenix Rising #2)
Publication date: April 20th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance
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Mia, the saint
Kolton, the sinnerThe Tour is the conclusion to The Stage: a Phoenix Rising Novel
After the finale of The Stage, Mia comes to terms with where she’s placed in the competition. But that night, Kolton and Mia come face-to-face with both of their biggest fears: fire and loss. Not everyone will survive, and the challenges that their relationship cause won’t end when the show does.
Kolton needs Mia’s trust, and he’ll do anything to get it—even exposing himself and what makes him vulnerable. He’ll do anything to keep her. Knowing the choice is hers to make doesn’t make it any easier. The secret about the night of the finale, about the choices made in a moment of survival can’t stay hidden when a celebrity’s life is fodder for the masses.
In the midst of this chaos and loss, Mia has to balance her love for Kolton and the future of her career. Will she sign with him, letting him be her boss with control over her future? Or will she go out on her own, with a sup par record contract so that she stands on her own equal to Kolton in her own right?
When there are so many questions and decisions to be made, going on tour could either make things clearer or make all the weaknesses in their relationship pull to the surface. Those fissures either get stronger, or break so permanently nothing can repair them.
When loves burns so bright, is it sustainable?
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This
excerpt is meant for readers 18 + due to adult language and sexual
content.
Rules
My breath comes out in puffs, and I
watch it because it’s the only diverting thing I can do while I pout outside.
I’m shivering but I’m not going in the house, not yet. My plan is to remain
stubborn until I can’t take it any longer then I’m going to sleep on the floor
in Riley and Deloris’ room. He won’t go in there because of Deloris. At least
he has some boundaries.
The door opens behind me and he sticks
his head out. “What if I take one of those off the agenda tonight?” he asks,
his voice slow.
“What?”
“Talking, spanking, fucking. I’ll take
one off the agenda,” he clarifies, coming to stand, in all his glory, forearm
pressed against the doorjamb, “if you’ll come inside.” He blinks again for a
long time, sways a little, and then stares right into me like he’d done the
first time he’d ever laid eyes on me.
“I’m not doing any of that shit,” I
tell him, breaking the trance by staring out toward the trees. I’m shaking so
hard from the chilled air that my voice sounds like a vibration.
“Fine, you win. Just come inside. My
only demand is that you sleep in my bed, where you belong.”
“No.”
“This is my final offer. I’m willing to
bend on all the other stuff, even though it would do you some good to get a
good spanking. You’d probably like it, which would lead to…you know, the other
two in a different order than I’d previously offered.” For whatever reason, he
actually makes me smile. It’s a cold-face smile—my lips are numb and my hands
are getting stiff.
“Just the sleeping. No talking.
No—other stuff.” He nods, smiling, and puts his hand out for me. As I walk
toward him, I put my arm out to meet him half way. His hand is as warm as a
Christmas evening by the fire. Once I’m inside, he puts his arm around me, his
hand sliding down to rest at the small of my back, and walks me down the hall
and into his room. Slowly, he pulls down the covers and helps me in like a
gentleman helping a lady into a carriage—except he’s in sweats and I’m in
mix-matched jammies.
I watch him walk around to his side,
and my stomach does a little butterfly flip when he slides in next to me. I
cross my legs at the ankle. Off limits.
At first he’s looking up at the
ceiling, but then he tilts his head to the side. “You can’t do this, Mia.”
“What can’t I do?”
“What I’m trying to say is you can be
mad at me, and I can be really fucking mad at you,” I try not
to giggle when he slurs the word ‘fucking,’ “but you can’t shut me out like
that,” he whispers and rolls over so he’s facing me. “I’m not even gonna say
that you can’t go to bed angry. I’m just going to ask that you sleep with me
every night, even if you’re mad. Can you agree to that?”
“I felt weird coming in here after you
yelled at me.” He nods, and looks down acknowledging that he hurt me. He looks
up, and tunes into me, looking through me, and runs his finger along my
jawline.
“Your place is with me. What’s mine is
yours. End of story.” He hums a little, the drugs making him melodious.
I want to protest for the sake of
protesting, my immaturity peeking out its little baby head. Instead, I swallow
and nod. “Okay.” Take that, immaturity.
“Hmmm. That wasn’t as hard as I thought
it was going to be,” his mouth bends into the side smirk he gives only me. I
move on to my side and wrap my leg over his.
“So I get my way after all,” he laughs
as he smacks me hard on the ass, grabbing it and pulling me on top of him.
“No, you didn’t,” I laugh.
“Even in the order I wanted it.
Talking, spanking, fu—” he says, before I take his mouth with mine and pull my
shirt over my head. As I look down at him, his face is all soft angles. “You
dazzle me,” he says.
“Dazzle, who says that anymore?” I
laugh and he stills me with his hands on my hips.
“Well, I’m on all kinds of drugs right
now,” he says. “Can’t be responsible for what I say or do.”
“You have to be kidding.”
“Take off your pants. I’ll show you
some dazzle,” he adds, and I giggle as his finger runs a soft line up my thigh.
He knows that I need this just as much as he does. I sit up straight and
unstrap my bra. When he sees my breasts, he swallows hard and his jaw tenses.
I push my pajama pants over the curve
of my hips, slowly pulling them down. I’m hesitating because I know this is
wrong, he’s wounded, and he probably shouldn’t exert himself. “Take them off,”
he demands.
I nod and look him in the eye as I push
my pants over my hips, move backward so I’m sitting between his legs, and let
him take them off one leg at a time. I can see how ready he is, as I climb over
him. My heart is aching as he fists his hand in my hair, running his other hand
up my outer thigh, and kisses my lips, flicking my tongue once like I am life
and he’s ready to live. I rub my panties against his length as it’s pressing
into his stomach. The friction is both exciting and breaking my heart. We
almost died. What if I’d lost him?
He fingers my nipple, hardening it
before he takes it in his mouth. It’s like a direct line to my core as his
tongue moves back and forth before he sucks and squeezes me. I feel my heart
constricting, pumping the blood through my veins. I feel like I’m glowing.
I know this is what he needs after the
fire, after his fear that we were hurt at the mall. But it’s because he’s never
known real love. He lost his mother before he could form a real memory about
her. In this moment, I’m grateful that our physical closeness eases his
anxiety. But, it makes me move my mouth away from his to catch my breath. When
I do, I think too much. I see the wound over his heart and remind myself that
he’s a human man—not a rock god. “This could hurt you.”
His fingers travel between us and he
moves my panties to the side. I bite my lip as his fingers slide into my soft,
wet folds. “Does this hurt?” he murmurs, as my mouth opens and my hips start to
move in time with his hand.
“No.” I shake my head, and I can feel
my chin start to tremble.
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AUTHOR BIO:
Shelby
grew up between two mountains and a lake in Wasilla, Alaska. She used to
run around in the tall grass, catch frogs, rescue dragonflies,
ride horses, and ice-skate during recess. She still likes adventures
and has even gone skydiving. Today she lives in Northern California with
her husband, John and their daughter, Elise, their two dogs, and a
fish named Jade.
Sign up here for Shelby's mailing list to get all the latest info on new releases, giveaways, and more. http://eepurl.com/Hnt7X
Sign up here for Shelby's mailing list to get all the latest info on new releases, giveaways, and more. http://eepurl.com/Hnt7X
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I was born when we kissed; I died when we parted. I lived in your embrace while we loved..........