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Jenna Lacombe needs complete control, whether it’s in the streets . . . or between the sheets. So when she sets out on a solo road trip to visit her family in New Orleans, she’s beyond annoyed that the infuriatingly sexy Jack Oliver wants to hitch a ride with her. Ever since they shared a wild night together last year, he’s been trying to strip away her defenses one by one. He claims he’s just coming along to keep her safe-but what’s not safe for her is prolonged exposure to the tattooed hottie.
Jack can’t get Jenna out from under his skin. She makes him feel alive again after his old life nearly destroyed him-and losing her is not an option. Now Jack’s troubles are catching up to him, and he’s forced to return to his hometown in Louisiana. But when his secrets put them both in harm’s way, Jenna will have to figure out how far she’s willing to let love in . . . and how much she already has.
My Review
Bad Girl and the
Good Boy
A Control Freak
–
She wanted control – in her life, in her relationships,
and even in sex. So when her grandmother cries her ‘I-think-I’m-going-to-die’
routine, she was forced to go home. But this time, she’d no longer waste money
on expensive plane tickets, instead she decided to go on a solo road trip
against her friends’ advice. But then, the sexy Jack Oliver decided to hitch a
ride with her – her alarms went off. This guy, whom she tries to forget, and
had made had rocked her world a few months ago is a danger to her system. He
just wanted to keep her safe, but Jenna was safer alone than with him (her
heart, that is).
She pretended it
didn’t happen.
It was a blow to the ego, and he didn’t really know what
went wrong. After spending a mind-blowing night with Jenna – she pretended that
night never happened. Ouch, right? She makes him feel emotions he never knew
existed. Now, if only he can go through her walls.
Our good boy isn’t
that good after all…
His past is catching on to him, and his brother is
missing. He was forced to return home after years of not going back. He was
forced to open a can of worms. His secret is out in the open, and it was
putting not only him and his family, but also Jenna in danger.
I so love watching Jenna fight against her attraction and
feelings for Jack. Jack was a surprise, I never knew he had it in him, but I was
glad to see the other side of him, it shows how much he had worked hard to be
the person that he is. You can’t help but just fall for him – he loves his
family, he would go to great lengths for them, even going back to the hell hole
he swore he won’t come back to. I also like that he wouldn’t settle for
anything less. He wanted her whole, a real relationship and not just another
one night deal. Now, if only Jenna would be brave enough to relinquish her
control and allow herself to fall.
I swooned, I fell in love, I love the twist and the
element of thrill and suspense this book has, and not to mention the complexity
of the characters presented. You will love them, hate them, and still root for
them. I enjoyed this book immensely, and finished it in one sitting. I didn’t
have the heart to put this one down, until I was sure I was going to get my
happy ending.
•Copy provided by publisher/author through Netgalley.•
Padding my bare feet back into Jack’s bedroom, I start riffling through his drawers like a wet raccoon, searching for something that can pass as pajamas. I try on four pairs of basketball shorts and two shirts before finding items small enough to fit me without being obscene.
I’m not a small person—not at all. I’m average height, average weight. It’s just that Jack’s a giant who, apparently, wears size 100 in everything. Twisting the shirt around my middle so it hangs properly, I absently inhale and smile when I catch Jack’s scent.
What? No. Don’t smile about that, you idiot.
I unclench my fists from his shirt and smooth out the wrinkles I created clutching it to my nose. I’m not like a wet raccoon at all. I’m worse. Raccoons would be ashamed of me.
My inner dialogue—I’ve just accepted that I’m certifiable, at this point—comes to a halt when I hear an engine in the front yard.
Jack.
My first instinct is to run outside and smack him—you know, violent tendencies and all—but I regain my composure and choose a more mature tactic.
I stand perfectly still in the dark living room and wait for him with a scowl.
Through the window, I watch his dark figure stumble out of the car and slowly climb the front steps all hunched over. What did he do, go get drunk? Great.
I cross my arms, scowl still poised to kill, and wait as he opens the door and quietly steps inside. He flicks on the living room light and I ready myself for the shit storm I’m about to rain all over his ass. But my words, my anger, my bitter intentions fall away the instant I see his face.
“Jack.” It’s more of a gasp than a word as it leaves my mouth.
He pulls his eyes up from his bloody and torn hand, and sets them on me. “Jenna. What the hell?” Several emotions cross his eyes. Anger. Fear. Relief. Anger.
I pull a face. “Don’t ‘what the hell’ me. You’re the one who stole my car and drove off into the night.”
He screws his face up. “So you waited up to yell at me?”
“Well…” I pause.
Is that why I waited up? Well, crap.
“Yeah,” I finally say, not particularly proud of my answer.
“Typical,” he mutters. “Listen. I’m not in the mood to bicker with you right now so if you don’t mind rescheduling this bitch-out for tomorrow, that would be great.”
He brushes past me, his shoulder lightly sweeping mine, and halts at the touch. Facing me, he softens his husky voice. “I’m sorry.”
Long eyelashes lower over his storm-gray eyes as he searches my face, and the wicked wildfire inside me instantly reignites as his gaze drops to my mouth.
The thick frustration that filled the room just moments ago thins into a sweet trepidation, curling around us with a daring charge. So delicious. But so dangerous.
I carefully step back and clear my throat. Jack does the same. We’re masters of avoidance.
Without another word, he moves past me and marches down the hall. That’s when I spy the blood running down the back of his shirt from a large gash between his shoulder blades.
My heart stops.
“Jack?” I say, staring with wide eyes. “What happened to your back?”
He looks over his shoulder and frowns. “Oh. That.” Turning back around, he continues striding down the hallway. “Knife wound.”
Meet The Authors
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Chelsea lives in Phoenix, Arizona where she spends most of her time writing stories, painting murals, and avoiding housework at all costs. She’s ridiculously bad at doing dishes and claims to be allergic to laundry. Her obsessions include: superheroes, coffee, sleeping-in, and crazy socks. She lives with her husband and two children, who graciously tolerate her inability to resist teenage drama on TV and her complete lack of skill in the kitchen.
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