Fight for Me
The complete collection of A.L. Jackson’s Fight for Me Series…
Coming September 9th
Cover: LJ Designs
Photo: Gustavo Frazao
Fight for Me – The Complete Collection
Three unforgettable full-length novels by NYT Bestselling Author, A.L. Jackson . . .
Show Me the Way: Rex Gunner. A sexy single-dad with a huge chip on his shoulder. Can Rynna show him he deserves to be loved?
Follow Me Back: Dr. Kale Bryant is gorgeous, compelling, and married to his job. The only thing he has time for are one-night stands and short-lived flings. Until the day he meets Hope and his entire foundation is rocked.
Lead Me Home: Bar owner, Oliver Preston, knew better than to get close to Nikki. He’s always wanted her, but she was the one thing he couldn’t allow himself to have. But when she moves into his apartment after she’s threatened, she might become the one thing he cannot resist.
Fall in love with the Men of Gingham Lakes and the women who change everything . . .
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LEAD ME HOME
I scrubbed both hands over my face, wondering if I was hallucinating. If I’d thought my throat was dry before, I’d just landed myself in Death Valley.
All the lights in my place were off except for the one inside the refrigerator. The door was wide open, the stark, white light illuminating the tight, round ass that peeked out.
White underwear covered only half of her cheeks, and those long, long legs were bare.
Greed tumbled through me like a landslide.
I fisted my hands. “What in God’s name are you doing up?” I grated. My voice was so hoarse from sleep, making the words little more than a grunt. It wasn’t like I’d forgotten Nikki had slept in the guest room at the very end of the hall.
Just hadn’t anticipated finding her like this.
Gasping, she whirled around. Big, shocked eyes met mine like she hadn’t expected me any more than I’d expected her.
“Ollie, you scared the crap out of me,” she rasped.
That seemed to be the theme.
Her trembling hand flew to her throat like she was trying to ward off the shock. To reassure herself she wasn’t in any danger.
Standing there, I wondered if that was actually true. Because right then, I was feeling dangerous.
Liable to make all kinds of stupid decisions. Like that night close to a year ago, a night I could barely even remember. All I remembered was pulling that bottle from the shelf and trying to drown the grief.
Then I’d woken in her bed.
Her naked body against mine, the smell of her on my skin.
So fucking perfect in my arms.
It was etched and seared and woven with the faint flashes and taunts of memories.
Her sweet, sweet touch, and my desperate greed.
A permanent scar to remind me I couldn’t be trusted.
Especially with her.
The only thing she’d paired with those underwear was a thin, white tank top, her tiny tits exposed by the skin-tight fabric, nipples just barely peeking through.
My damned mouth watered.
Those stunning eyes sparked. Purple flames in my kitchen, burning me through as they went skating down my chest and abdomen.
The girl was drinking me in like she was just as thirsty as I was.
Not helping things, Sunshine. Not fucking helping things.
Clenching my fists, I did my best to convince my dick this girl was nothing but a skinny, bony stick and so not my type. Hardest part was convincing my traitor heart I hadn’t wanted her for my whole life.
No matter how much shit was piled on top of why I couldn’t have her, there was no way I could ever forget her touch. Her smile and her laugh and the way she made me feel like I was a damn king.
Her guardian and shield.
I doubted there’d ever be a time when I looked at her and didn’t think she was the best damned thing I’d ever seen.
“Not sure what you expect when you’re sneaking around my place in the middle of the night,” I finally managed to say, breaking from the spell the girl had me under.
Magic in her fingertips.
And there I was, imagining sucking every single one of them into my mouth.
One by one.
Wondering if she’d groan and go wild or if she’d melt. Didn’t know which way I wanted her most.
Sucking in a deep breath, she seemed to gather herself. Her brow lifted in speculation as she set the carton of milk on the island like she’d rummaged through my kitchen a million times before.
Guess there was no need to invite her to make herself at home.
“Middle of night?”
She spun away and hiked up onto her toes to grab a bowl from the cabinet, giving me another flash of that sweet ass.
She spun back around, and there were those tits.
Didn’t know which view I liked better.
She really was trying to kill me.
“I have to be to work in thirty minutes.”
My attention immediately shot to the huge, curved bay of windows that overlooked the city. Darkness still hugged the buildings, but the promise of something to come was baited in the sky.
“Just because you sleep half the day away, it doesn’t mean I get to,” she started to ramble, moving to dig through my pantry and my selection of cereals. “Early bird gets the worm—or rather, the breakfast pastry pie. Whatever you want to call it. And I have to be the one to make sure those pies are ready.”
At an ungodly hour.
“And do you have to do it half naked?”
Couldn’t help but bring attention to her state.
It was like only then the girl noticed what she was wearing.
Or lack thereof.
Her full, pink lips stretched into a lust-inducing O, and the shock was punctuated by a tiny sound.
A rash of fantasies rapid-fired through my brain.
Closing the distance.
Taking that mouth.
Devouring that body.
Olive skin and slender curves and cupid mouth.
I wanted her.
Wanted her propped on my counter and spread out on my bed.
She made an offended sound and angled to the side like that might cover her up. She pointed my direction with one hand while she wrapped her other arm over her tits. “Oh, you think this is funny, do you? Sneaking up on me this way?”
I was about to respond, but she didn’t let me. That gaze narrowed. “Maybe you really were trying to take advantage of me while I’m here. How the hell a mountain of a man like you sneaks up like some kind of ninja is beyond me.”
A chuckle rumbled free, half-pained, half-amused. “This from the girl who decided to parade around my kitchen half naked. Just who is the one who isn’t playing fair?”
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A.L. Jackson is the New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author of contemporary romance. She writes emotional, sexy, heart-filled stories about boys who usually like to be a little bit bad.
Her bestselling series include THE REGRET SERIES, CLOSER TO YOU, BLEEDING STARS, and FIGHT FOR ME novels. Grab A.L. Jackson’s latest novel, PIECES OF US, a stand-alone novel in her CONFESSIONS OF THE HEART series.
If she’s not writing, you can find her hanging out by the pool with her family, sipping cocktails with her friends, or of course with her nose buried in a book.
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