Excerpt of All Of Me by Kelly Moran

The moment Faith opened the door and Alec saw her, he knew his
suspicions were right on the mark. He felt differently about her
than he had about anyone in a long time. More so, if he dug deep
enough into his memory. She chased away the dark. And somehow, since
he’d known her, his writing had grown stronger.

Yet she acted like she could take him or leave him. Faith may have
seemed aloof, but he suspected that under the surface there was
strength and heart. Right next to insecurity and uncertainty. In
fact, she seemed like someone hell-bent on taking care of herself,
but failing.

That did funny things to his chest.

She gestured him inside, but he stayed rooted to the spot, taking in
the sight of her. If he’d texted any other woman and said he was
coming over, they’d be wearing ten pounds of makeup, high heels, and
nothing else. That wasn’t arrogance on his part, just stone-cold
truth. Women wanted his money, his fame, or his body. No in-betweens
or exceptions.

And then there was Faith. A haphazard ponytail left wisps of brown
hair around her face. The loose cotton shorts and white tee she wore
shouldn’t be sexy. The lamplight behind her hid most of her
freckles, but he still wanted to kiss each one, strip her to see if
she had more. And where.

“Hi,” he forced out.

“Hello. Are you going to come inside or should we talk through the
doorway?”

The last thing he wanted to do was talk. He crossed the threshold
and fit his lips over hers, reaching out and tugging her flush
against his chest. And damn, the spark wasn’t a fluke. The same heat
and need flared to life. Consumed.

Tightening his hold on her, he lifted her enough to back her away
from the entry and kicked the door shut, all the while keeping his
mouth fused to hers. He spun her around and pressed her back against
the door, planting his palms on either side of her head. If he kept
his hands off her, he could stop this before the house went up in
flames. Probably.

Faith didn’t get the memo. Her fingers drove into his hair and
tugged. Her tongue warred with his for dominance and he was damn
tempted to let her win. Just for the hell of it. To let himself be
conquered for once.

When one of her legs snaked around his hips, drawing his jean-clad
erection snug against the apex of her thighs, he groaned and rested
his forehead against hers. Tried to breathe. “You’re a sleeper,” he
mumbled, head still somewhere in the vicinity of that kiss.

“Sleeper?” she breathed.

God, that voice of hers got to him in ways he couldn’t possibly
explain. “Yeah. A sleeper. You seem all reserved and calm on the
surface, lying in wait until the moment of initiation, and then you
strike.”

Her amber eyes lifted to his, her dilated pupils telling him she was
just as affected. “That was a compliment, right?”

He laughed and dropped a kiss on her shoulder. Smelled so good.
“Yes, that was a compliment.”