Release date: November 28, 2012
Age Group: Mature Young Adult
Tour organized by: AToMR Tours
I've always written scripts for my perfect life.
But no way could I have ever scripted this.
My life is so far from perfect, it's not even funny.
All because of a stalker.
I'm at a boarding school, where I have to lie about who I am.
I can't see my family.
I'm tutoring a hottie god that tortures me with his smile.
The most popular girl already hates me.
But there's this boy.
This hot, sweet, sexy boy.
So I'm going to stop trying to script my life and just live it.
Because who knows how long I have left.
My hair is up in a high ponytail today and Aiden moves his face in close to my neck.“You have a pretty neck.”“What? No. It’s too long,” I scoff.“Naw, it’s almost regal,” he says, as his lips move closer.“Maybe for the Queen of Giraffes,” I joke.“I've never kissed your neck.” He puts his hand on the side of my head and pushes it slightly. “Tilt your head.”I do as he asks. I know I shouldn’t. I should run away. But it’s impossible to resist an order from a god.He takes the tip of his finger and glides it from just underneath my earlobe to my collarbone. He blinks lazily and then puts his lips like our almost kisses. He is as close as he can possibly get to my neck without actually touching it.And even though his lips don't touch, occasionally, he accidentally—or on purpose, maybe; who knows a god’s train of thought on this—touches it with his cheek.I can feel some stubble on his cheek. He hasn’t shaved in a few days and the hair is so light it’s barely visible, but just that little bit of scruff looks so sexy on him. It changes his perfect face from a work of art to something of museum quality. It makes his beautiful face look more angular and masculine. And even though scruff usually scratches my face, his feels soft against my neck.Have you ever rubbed a balloon across your hair and made it stick straight up? That's how my whole body feels. All my nerve endings, or synapses—really, I don’t even know what a synapse is exactly; I think it’s in the nerve family . . . Whatever, they are all sticking straight up like balloon-rubbed hair.He’s still at my neck when he says, “Too bad I'm not a vampire. I’d bite you. Make you mine.”“Trust me. You don't want me. Dawson tried to give me the key to his heart. I wouldn’t take it.”“Is that why he’s wearing that key necklace?”“Yeah, he’s wearing it until I change my mind. And I don’t know why I keep waiting. I didn’t wait for anything else.”I hope to piss him off with my reference to sex with Dawson, so he will move his powerful lips away from me.Instead he whispers, “Just because sex is good with someone, doesn't mean you’re destined to be with them. Imagine what it will be like with the guy you’re really supposed to be with. Your true love.”When he speaks, his lips graze my neck a few times.“You’re touching my neck. With your lips,” I say raggedly. I can barely breathe when he’s this close to me.“I’m talking. Not kissing. It doesn’t count.”And I don't know where this comes from—not from rational thought, obviously—but I make a little breathless moan and say, “Talk some more.”I feel his mouth form a smile on my neck.“Remember what I told you? In French. Your lips are my bliss?”Then he speaks it in French. His lips grazing my neck with each syllable.I forget who I am.I forget where I am.I have but one solitary thought.Those lips must be on me.“Aiden, come here.”“I'm here.”I grab his face. “No, like, do that to my lips. The not-kissing-kiss.”“It won’t be enough. You want to kiss me, don’t you?”
Jillian Dodd grew up on a farm in Nebraska, where she developed a love for Midwestern boys and Nebraska football. She has drank from a keg in a cornfield, attended the University of Nebraska, got to pass her candle, and did have a boy ask her to marry him in a bar. She met her own prince in college, and they have two amazing children, a Maltese named Sugar Bear, and two Labrador puppies named Camber Lacy and Cali Lucy. She is the author of the That Boy Trilogy and The Keatyn Chronicles Series.