MANAGED
VIP
Series
By
Kristen Callihan
Release
Day: November 14, 2016
It started off as a
battle of wits. Me: the ordinary girl with a big mouth against Him: the sexy
bastard with a big...ego.
I thought I’d hit
the jackpot when I was upgraded to first class on my flight to London.
That is until HE sat down next to
me. Gabriel Scott: handsome as sin, cold as ice. Nothing and no one gets to
him. Ever. He’s a legend in his own right, the manager of the biggest rock band
in the world, and an arrogant ass who looks down his nose at me.
I thought I’d give him hell for one,
long flight. I didn’t expect to like him. I didn’t expect to want him. But the
biggest surprise? He wants me too. Only in a way I didn’t see coming.
If I accept his proposal, I leave
myself open to falling for the one man I can’t manage. But I’m tempted to say
yes. Because the real man beneath those perfect suits and that cool façade just
might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And I just might be the
only one who can melt the ice around his heart.
Let the battle begin…
*arc provided for an honest and unbiased review*
I don't think I've ever read this author before. so when I saw this cover and read the blurb I was ready to dive in. I mean, that cover is sexy without trying. so I was driving in with hopes the story would follow suit.
and it did. oh boy did it. this book was so sexy without even trying. just simply sexy. the suits. the banter. the sex. the band. the family. the shows. everything about this book is just a yes.
I'm so glad I picked up a copy of this book. from the first word of this book, the first chapter , him being stuck and miserable, her being the white knight, I was addicted. I am so.glad I picked this up. from the introductions , to the bus rides, to the cuddles, and the thigh clenching steam, it's a great book and so well written!
I have a feeling ill be reading more of this author.
4-4.5 stars from me
~~GET YOUR COPY TODAY~~
EXCERPT
In
all this time, I had yet to see Gabriel without a shirt. He hides his body like
a pious Victorian, never letting me see anything other than him fully dressed
and polished. Now I know why. Had he let me get a glimpse, I might never have
been able to form a coherent thought around him.
This
man’s chest is a work of art. It’s every fantasy I’ve had about a man’s body
made real. I don’t even know how that’s possible, but I’m not about to
complain. God, he looks touchable. Olive skin, tight little brownish nipples, a
smattering of dark chest hair over the most incredibly honed—
“You’re
staring.” His tone is dry.
“Yes,
I am.” I drag my eyes up and find his expression bemused.
A
thick brow lifts. I try to mimic the look and fail when both of my brows lift
as one. His lips twitch in amusement.
He
shifts his weight, causing his abs to clench. Good Lord. He’s not some
overdeveloped gym worshiper, just solid and strong, that perfect balance
between defined musculature and healthy male—
“You’re
still staring, Sophie.”
“You
think it’s easy looking away from all this splendor?” I ask his belly button,
licking my lips when he huffs out a laugh and just a little bit more of his
lower abs are revealed, slanting toward the thick bulge of his cock, which is
lamentably hidden behind his slacks.
“You’re
impossible,” he mutters, though there is humor in his voice. He strolls farther
into the room and then practically kills me when he sits in one of the
low-slung armchairs. That body, sprawled out on display, those thick, long
thighs braced as if to take me in his lap—it’s too much.
I
want to straddle him and lick my way from the hollow of his throat to the tip
of his cock.
He
eyes me as if he knows what I’m thinking, and the air thickens. So many things
we left unsaid. I’m remembering his lips now, surprisingly soft, but strong
with purpose.
From
the way his lids lower, I wonder if he’s remembering things as well. But he
doesn’t move. Tension glides over his body and snakes around the room. I feel
it in my throat and down my spine. We’re closing up again, retreating.
Slowly,
I toe off my shoes and set my gear down, never breaking eye contact. “I was
being completely honest,” I tell him. “I see you like this and I want to stare
forever.”
He
snorts, shaking his head even as he rests his temple on his knuckles. “What do
you mean ‘like this’?”
“Undone.”
He
tenses. It does lovely things to that chest. I focus on his face, mainly to
maintain some semblance of decorum.
“You
think this is me undone?” he asks quietly.
“It’s
a start.” I reach for my camera bag. “Will you let me photograph you?”
There
is safety to be found with the camera between us. A way for both of us to hide
until we’re comfortable around each other again.
“You’re
serious?”
“You
sound surprised.” Holding my camera, I sit in the sofa opposite him. “Don’t
tell me no one has asked to take your picture before.”
“They’ve
asked. I never saw the point.” He shrugs. “I’m not the story.”
You’re my story. You always were.
“This
is just for me,” I say instead. “No one else.”
His
shrewd gaze pins me. “Why do you want this?”
So I can have a bit of you forever. “Pictures capture moments in time.
I want this one—when you finally let me see a sliver of the man behind the
clothes.”
His
nostrils flare on an indrawn breath, and he slowly lets it out. When he speaks,
his voice is a rasp. “Take the pictures.”
ABOUT
THE AUTHOR:
Kristen Callihan is an author because there is nothing else
she’d rather be. She is a three-time RITA nominee and winner of two RT
Reviewer’s Choice awards. Her novels have garnered starred reviews from
Publisher’s Weekly and the Library Journal, as well as being awarded top picks
by many reviewers. Her debut book FIRELIGHT received RT Magazine’s Seal of
Excellence, was named a best book of the year by Library Journal , best book of
Spring 2012 by Publisher’s Weekly, and was named the best romance book of 2012
by ALA RUSA. When she is not writing, she is reading.
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