Today’s stop is for Alexandra Silva’s Someone Like You. We will have info about the book and author, an great excerpt from the book, plus a great giveaway. Make sure to check everything out and enter the giveaway.
Dorian Anson is my friend. She’s the only person who’s ever questioned my smiles. My jokes. The one liners that have our friends shaking their heads at me.
I’ve lived my life on those smiles. They never failed me, until her.
I wasn’t counting on her when I designed my front. I never imagined the possibility of someone like her coming into my life.
The wild hair, the kind smile and those eyes that see everything.
She was the girl with the beautiful soul, pretty face and whole heart. But hearts aren’t made to stay whole.
I watched hers break. I watched her tears fall. I watched as her world tilted on its axis and shattered at her feet.
She sees me, all parts of me—the truths I try to hide, the secrets I bury. What’s mine and what’s not.
She sees it all, and I can only hope the truth isn’t too much. That she won’t walk away.
That she won’t leave me…alone.
We both have a past. We have ghosts. We have fears.
I’m hoping that somehow in the end, we’ll have each other too.
I’ve never needed anyone before her, and I know I’ll never want anyone else after her.
There is no one like her.
My pretty girl.
A lot of things seemed to be happening, it was a snowball effect. One minute we were standing in the middle of an abandoned side street that was barely lit up by the here and there lamp posts in one of the busiest cities in the world. The next minute we were tucked into a darkened emergency exit alcove, that probably stank of piss, and yet all I could see, smell and hear was her.
“Jake.” Her rasp had her voice and breath catching as she drew out the A in my name. And all the other times she’d uttered my name, all hundreds and maybe thousands of other times that my name had left her lips seemed insignificant. “Jacob.”
Her hand grasped my t-shirt and twisted in it as the other clung to my shoulder. Her eyes looked between mine and as her breaths quickened and splayed on my jaw they rendered me breathless.
She was so fucking pretty. She made my hands ache to touch her, any part of her in anyway.
“God, Dor.” I was so, so thirsty for her lips. Her glossy, peachy lips that always looked so sweet and plump.
You’re not even making sense dickhead!
Her shoulders hit the granite slab wall behind her and a whoosh of fruity, florally breath warmed the skin on my neck. The skin on her bare shoulders prickling as the nippy, fresh winter bluster swept our little alcove.
I couldn’t help but watch, mesmerised, as she licked her lips and when I cupped her jaw she gasped. It was breathy and soft and I could taste the yearning in her exhale and I could feel it in the way her eyes were fixed on mine.
I tried so hard to bite back the need, the greed for her that was boiling over inside of me. Burning each and every one of my organs, making my veins engorge with my thick, bubbling blood.
She smiled as I tipped her chin up, holding her face to mine.
“Pretty girl, you should tell me to stop.” I breathed as I kissed the tip of her nose lightly. She hummed as she leaned her face closer to mine and rested her hands flat on my stomach.
It felt like no touch I’d ever felt before. It was soft, tentative and warm. It was gentle. I couldn’t think of a woman ever touching me like that, like they wanted to feel me and not what I could do for them. And for the first time ever, I wanted to be gentle too. Not just because I wanted to savour the moment or even her, I wanted to give her some of what she was giving me.
Her eyes closed as her tongue licked across her lips, her wet breath coating my mouth as I cupped her face and brought her closer to me. Her nails dug lightly into my torso as I kissed the flushed apple of one cheek and then the other. The heels of her shoes scrapped along the ground as she brought herself impossibly closer to me. Our belt buckles knocked as one of her legs tucked between mine and she straddled one of my thighs.
“Jake, please…” She whispered as our noses touched, our breaths mingled and our body heat permeated between us.
I kissed the corner of her mouth as I inhaled the scent of her florally shampoo and her fruity perfume. It was so overwhelming and encompassing together with the feel of her hands reaching up between us and her fingers hooking into the rounded collar of my t-shirt.
Her breath hitched when I ran my lips faintly over her plump cupid’s bow to the other corner of her lips.
“Kiss me.” She murmured.
I planted a slow, languorous kiss where her laugh line crossed through the faintest of beauty freckles. Something you had to look for in order to even know it was there. She tilted her face, her fingertips caressing the hollow of my throat and then sliding over my shoulders until they hooked around my neck.
My mouth watered and if it was at all possible, my heart rammed into my ribs even harder and faster than it already was and…
“Shit.” She pulled away from me far too quickly.
“Huh?” I watched as she pulled her buzzing and flashing phone from her back pocket and held it between us. “Typical!”
“Willow?” she answered.
I was about to kiss her and she answered her fucking phone. It was probably the most insulting thing a woman had ever done to me. Especially after she’d asked me to do it.
“We’re coming back in now.” Her tone was curt as she huffed down the phone to Willow. She ended the call as she clasped her phone tightly in her hands. “I left my bag, our bags…she’s pissed.”
That’s all she’s going to say?
“I know,” she rasped before she cleared her throat. “It’s probably for the best, especially with your taste for classy women.” She started back towards the bar. Her heels clacking with her every step as I followed her.
Yeah, no. It wasn’t for the best and there was no fucking way I was letting anything go.
“I suppose since you’re having midweek dates…”
“What?” She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me. “Excuse me?”
“Nothing.” I shook my head as I walked around her.
“Wait!” she growled as she grabbed me by the crook of my elbow. “You can’t just walk away from me.”
“You walked away first.” I blurted before I could think better of it, and the hurt on her face was gutting.
“I-I…I’m sorry.” She whispered sheepishly. “We’re friends and…”
“Dorian, people can be friends as well as other things.” I caressed the bridge of her nose before I ushered her the rest of the way back to the bar.
My chest still felt achy with the regret of what I’d said to her. I knew how hurt she’d been all the times Phillip had walked away from her. Physically, emotionally, even metaphorically, he’d managed to leave her time and again. I knew that it was a sensitive spot for her, but stupidly I’d still said the words.
“So, we’re friends?” she asked with a hopeful trill to her words as she walked beside me.
We walked back into the hotel through the side entrance, she took a few silent steps beside me towards the bar.
“Do you still want to kiss me?” her breathless question caught me off-guard as we stepped back into the bar.
It took me a little longer than usual to get my words together as I watched her watch me with uncertainty blanketing her face.
“I don’t know, you’ll have to see.” I chuckled, my breath pushed out of me as she slapped my stomach.
“That’s not funny.”
“Oh, I know.”
Alexandra Silva is a lover of words and romance. She blames the classics and a nutty English teacher for her obsession with books and fiction. Come rain or shine with either coffee or wine in hand you can find her with her nose stuck in a book and her head in the clouds. She lives in London outnumbered by her very loud boys, with her very own hero and their two wild cats–Jack and Jill.
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