Big News…

Wow. Just noticed I haven’t written a blog since mid March! I’ve been in the writing cave, riding out the rest of the winter madness and watching my children swap various illnesses back and forth.
But Spring is here and I have some huge announcements.

First off, I am awestruck at being included in one of the most amazing boxed sets of contemporary romance. The best part? The royalties go toward Diabetes Research. Help me make a difference and have a blast reading your favorite authors in A Sweet Life!

Have your cake and eat it too–your purchase of A Sweet Life helps fight against diabetes!

Priced at only 2.99 (regular price 7.99), indulge in this stunning limited edition collection of fourteen contemporary romances by New York Times and USA Today Bestselling authors…

You can make a difference while you read! All proceeds from the sale of A Sweet Life will be donated to the Diabetes Research Institute via Brenda Novak’s Online Auction for Diabetes Research.

Featuring a foreword by #1 New York Times Bestselling Author Debbie Macomber.

Get your copy today!″ target=”_blank”>


Are You Ready to Get Your Geek On?

Searching for Perfect releases Tuesday, April 29th and is up for Pre-Order! Don’t miss out on Nathan Ellison Raymond Dunkle – the hottest nerd to rise up the book boyfriend charts!

Reviewers are saying:
“Romance star Probst pens another sexy, satisfying romance” –Kirkus Reviews

“Jennifer Probst is one of those feel-good authors. It’s always a good romantic comedy. I loved Searching for Perfect…” – 5 Stars, Nestled in a Book

“Jennifer has written a creative and eclectic group of characters who are entertaining and engaging and real. The story might be about romance and finding love but there is an element to her writing and a fragility to her characters that make it much more. Jennifer is a romance writing superstar and I cannot wait to get my hands on the next book in this fantastic series.” — Bella’s Little Book Blog

“I thought this was a wonderfully moving, deeply emotional, steamy, sexy, fantastic story, of hope, healing and love. 5 huge loving stars!” –Sizzling Book Club

I’m Celebrating the Release with one of the Biggest Facebook Parties of the Year! The authors I have booked are…extraordinary. I’m fangirling myself. Hang out all day and evening and win tons of prizes, with the Grand Prize of an Ipod stocked with my Searching for Perfect Playlist!

Join Right Here!

Stay tuned for my HUGE blog tour where I’m giving out prizes. And don’t forget to join the Probst Posse for exclusive excerpts and sneak peeks of all my work!

Happy April everyone!

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The Short Story and a Challenge…

First off, a bit of screaming and gratitude. Beyond Me hit the New York Times and the USA Today bestselling list, and I couldn’t have done it without my amazing, supportive readers. Thank you for loving and sharing my stories and allowing me to keep writing for you.

Second, I want to talk about writing. I love everything about creating a good story, in various formats, and consistently try to grow and get better. When I was in college, I took a short story writing course. The class was small and intimate, and each week we’d create a new short to read and discuss. By studying and delving into the craft of the short, I learned about the power of vivid words, getting straight into the action, and how to give readers a satisfying experience in a limited amount of time.

Yesterday, I was on twitter and saw a site called  I clicked on it out of curiosity and found a site that is dedicated to sharing stories of exactly 81 words. Readers vote and the stories are ranked. After scrolling through some of the top rated ones, I was blown away and reminded of what I love about the art of writing. In only 81 words emotions were evoked. A story was told.

Powerful stuff.

Of course, instead of going back to working my novel with a looming deadline, I got excited. I wanted to write a story in 81 words! Could I push myself to try?

Yes. So, I did.

You can read it right here. I titled it Unspoken.

After I posted, I got a huge adrenalin rush I always experience when I write The End on my book. I was also inspired by the other talented writers who pushed themselves and tried something new. I think in any career we may reach plateaus or forget to try something different.

So, I give you a challenge. Write a story of 81 words. Post it on the site here , or on your blog. Show me the link so I can read it, either on my website or on my author facebook page which is shown on the right side of my site.

Whoever takes on the challenge, I’ll put the names in a hat and give away a copy of my new digital release, Beyond Me. If you read it already, you can pick something from my backlist.

Are you a loyal reader but not a writer? That’s ok – just post that you checked out my new short Unspoken and I’ll put you into the contest!

Have fun. Happy reading. Happy writing.



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Life, Love, and Moonstruck

First, some housekeeping.

A big thank you to my readers and Posse and fellow authors from the Sex on the Beach series. You made Beyond Me hit number 1 on Barnes and Noble and kept it in the top 100 of Amazon for the week.

You guys seriously rock.

Second, I’m gearing up to celebrate my upcoming release, Searching for Perfect, the second in the Searching series. You’ll see all the characters from the marriage to a billionaire series so don’t forget to preorder!

So, instead of working on my new book, I took a break last week, and after flipping the remote after hubby went to bed ( so I wasn’t tortured by the Military, History, or Discovery channel) I came across one of my all time fave movies.
Some say it’s dated. Yeah, it may show my age. But I watched that sucker from beginning to end and once again, I cried and felt my heart surge. It was like an erotic novella, woman’s fiction, and chick lit all swirled into one perfect movie. My mind exploded with ideas for writing, and creating stories that reach into a reader’s gut and twists deep and makes them feel. Because that’s real power.
Now that I’m steadily writing books and am a bit deeper into my craft and career than years ago, I found myself wanting to delve into the inner workings of the story. Why did this movie do it for me? By analyzing some of the main facets, perhaps I’d be able to wrestle more of those emotions into my own work, which is a payoff for both me and my readers.
So, I did. And this is what I found. It’s all about character, just like I suspected. Each of their motivations and past mistakes and issues and goals were key. In the movie, the acting was what made it great. In a book, characters make it great and the way we write them.
Here are three main elements I was able to break out.

Choice is a big aspect in life, books, and movies. We pretend to be forced to do certain things, but in reality, it is all about choice. Our choice at the time to take one path over another. To decide what is right or wrong for us. In the movie, the father of Cher (the heroine) is cheating on his wife (Cher’s mother). The mother knows the truth but hasn’t confronted him yet. She spends most of the book asking the question: “Why do men cheat?” to various characters. She receives many different answers, and sifts through each one of them, trying to understand, make sense of it, accept it. One of my favorite lines in the movie is when she’s walking home from a restaurant with an attractive man she met while having dinner. The man had been chasing younger women, and Cher’s mother informs him he needs someone older to understand him. Throughout the scene, it’s obvious he begins to become interested in Cher’s mother. They reach her house, and they’re both standing outside on a cold winter night, looking at each other, and he asks her if she’ll invite him in. Now, this woman has been scorned, the guy is attractive, revenge may be tempting, and there’s a lot of ways she can decide to go with this.
What does she do?
Looks him dead in the eye and says she can’t invite him up. He asks why. And she says one of the keys to the whole movie: “Because I know who I am.”
Brilliant. Just brilliant.
He looks surprised, tries to persuade her, but the line is too powerful to ever back down from. She walks inside while he stares at her and we know we’re seeing a great moment.

Romance is different than passion in my opinion. It’s sweeter, more delicate, more subtle. It has various motions and meanings to every person in an individual way. But I never, ever get sick of this scene which I wrote about in my foodie romance novel, All the Way. Nicholas Cage’s character – the hero- loves the opera. Cher has told him she can no longer see him because it is wrong (hero is Cher’s fiance’s brother). He convinces her to give him one perfect night and then he will let her go forever. Cage asks Cher to go to the opera with him. She finally agrees.
The scenes leading up to her makeover is so girly and satisfying. She prepares for him, and finds pleasure in her appearance, and making herself pretty. We watch her get her hair done, buy a gorgeous red dress, fancy shoes. We watch her unpack the boxes in front of the fireplace, drinking wine, thinking about the night ahead. It’s all fantasy and dreamy. I remember getting ready for my own dates, and this scene brings all the memories back.
Then, when she appears in front of the Metropolitan in Manhattan, she walks to the famous fountain and he’s waiting for her in a tux. He gazes at her with shock, adoration, lust. And he thanks her. For accompanying him. For her beautiful dress and hair and shoes. And I frikkin lose it every time.

God, there’s so much passion between Cher and Nicholas Cage. Reminded me of those scenes in a good erotic novel where the tension is exploding, and the heroine is unsure what to do, and the alpha male just grabs control and makes her do what she wants to do in the first place.
After the opera, they walk home and when she finds herself at his apartment, she’s angry. Cher begins yelling at him, saying he promised to leave her alone. Her speech cuts to the truth. She admits she wants to make better choices than in her past, and follow her mind, not her heart. She tells him she will marry his brother because it’s the logical, right thing to do. WE all know she’s fallen in love with Cage. But it’s her black moment – she fights her feelings and destiny.
Nicholas Cage loses it. He goes all sexy, alpha male on her and tells her he loves her. Tells her love isn’t what she thought it was, it’s not nice and civilized—it “breaks your heart” and makes things a mess. He says he doesn’t care about anything but her, and claiming her, and points to his house and says’ “Now get in my bed!”
I’m always breathless by this point, though of course I know what she’ll do. What I’d do. What any woman would do.
She goes to his bed. She surrenders.

I love dialogue. I think it’s the basis of a great book, and a great movie. Cher and Cage has a wonderful banter full of sexual tension, darkness and humor that translates perfectly. When they first meet, he’s surly and bad tempered, yelling at her. Another woman would back down, but she stands up to him, calling him a “lone wolf, ready to tear off his own paw to get out of the trap.” You realize through their conversations they get each other. They’re meant to be together.
Later on, Cage turns those words on her when she tries to reject him, saying, “You run toward the wolf” and the images their dialogue contains are so vivid and add depth to the movie.

I’m not talking comedic or laugh out loud. Sometimes I love that. Other times it’s a humor interweaved within the realities of life. The grandfather goes out every night with a dozen dogs to walk them through the city streets. The leashes are tangled and he can barely contain them. A mass of writhing, barking bodies drag him through the city, but he loves those damn dogs, and they love him, and I see myself with my own animals and the ridiculous things I do for them because I love them. The grandfather sneaks food to them under the table during dinner. He sleeps with them. IT’s adorable. It’s real. It’s funny.

Oh, and of course the happy ever after. I need that in order to complete the cycle.

I decided to go back to my manuscript and make sure I’ve got all these highlighted and covered well. Dive deep. Be real. Watch movies that make you feel something, dissect them, and see if you can find an extra layer to unearth in your own work.

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Beyond Me Countdown…

I’m excited.

5 more days till release of Beyond Me – part of the Sex on the Beach series with the amazing Jenna Bennett and Jen McLaughlin.

5 more days till the Facebook party of cocktails, giveaways, and fun.

5 more pages for you to enjoy. Now.

Love you my peeps! Stay tuned for teasers going up every day till release!
*first 15 pages posted in my prior blog posts* – continuing in James’ POV:

The gorgeous, sleek line of her spine begged me to run my tongue down it until I stopped at the
sweet spot. “Maybe I’m tired of the same type of women all
the time.”
Rich hooted with laughter. “Gorgeous, smart, sexy women
who want to do anything for you? Yeah, cry me a fucking river.
I still think you won’t get anywhere with her.”
Adam poked my shoulder. “When was the last time you
got rejected? It’s good for everyone once in a while.”
“She won’t reject me.” The knowledge she was meant to be
mine roared in my blood, but it was such a ridiculous feeling
I decided to ignore it. She was probably playing games, and
once I delved deeper, she’d be like all the rest. I was so sick of
disappointment and emptiness beneath the surface. Not that
I was any better. In fact, I was probably the worst culprit of
all—an empty shell sucked dry of anything real for a long, long
“Care to make a bet?” Adam challenged.
“What type of bet?” I asked.
Rich drained his beer and looked triumphant. “Great idea.
We bet you can’t bed her within the week. We’ll give you five
“Are we starring in some crap spring break movie?” The
crudity of such a bet was disgusting and I waved my hand in
the air, dismissing the idea. “I’m not into shit like that.”
Rich cleared his throat. “Because you know you can’t
“Because it’s a scummy thing to do. And none of your
“What if I put up something you’ve been wanting for a
I turned my head. Rich seemed pretty confident I’d jump
at the offer. I’d known him and Adam since high school. Our
parents belonged to the same clubs in Florida and were all
close friends. We’d grown up as trust fund babies, given pretty
much free reign and anything we wanted. We sailed yachts
together, travelled through Europe, and had been kicked out
of too many schools. Seemed like a fucking great life until we
got older and realized most of America didn’t live that way.
That there were things like real jobs and consequences and
morality. My parents had none of that. They gave to charity
because it made them look good, but turned their noses down
at anyone who needed to scramble or get a bit dirty. When I
hit about nineteen, I figured out they didn’t like me much, and
as long as I didn’t embarrass their public image, they couldn’t
care less where I went or what I did. I did all the normal shit
kids do to get attention—screwing up and trying to make their
lives miserable because I couldn’t please them. In return, they
threatened to pull my money once in a while, and continued
to freeze me out.
Once I reached drinking age, their attorney contacted me
while they were travelling London. He had me sign on the
dotted line, and all of my trust fund money was released, with
a legal disclaimer that once it ran out, they weren’t responsible
for me. I got the big picture. I was on my own.
Of course, I’d always been on my own. I just hadn’t realized
I jerked my attention back to my friend’s proposal. “Trust
me, Rich, I doubt you have anything I want that much.”
He gave me a smug look. “How about Whit Bennigan?”
I cocked my head. I’d been heavy into art my whole life, but
done nothing with it. I calmed my mind by going to museums,
studying art history, and immersing myself in the visual world
of professional artists. I had a room stocked with my paintings,
but no one had seen them. No one really cared to. Whit
Bennigan was one of the most famous painters in the south,
and was making a name for himself to rival powerhouses.
Using an edgy style with bold colors, he was a mix of old and
new and was a master when it came to manipulating light. I’d
read everything I could on the reclusive man.
“What about him?” I asked suspiciously.
“He’s a close friend of my parents. He owes them a favor,
and I could collect. What if I was able to score you a private
lesson with him?”
I jerked back. “Are you fucking kidding me? One hour
in the room with this guy could change my whole approach.
There’s no way you can bring that, Rich. You’re full of shit.”
“I’ll bring it. You get Miss Snobby Pants into bed within
five days, and I’ll get you that lesson.”
I turned and studied her. Back ramrod straight, dark hair
spilling over her shoulders, looking at something I couldn’t see
out in the distance. I wanted her. Would’ve gone after her with
or without a stupid bet, but at this point, what did I have to
lose? I needed to have her, and a lesson with my mentor would
be an added bonus. “What if I fail?”
The guys laughed. “We get your bike,” they said in unison.
Ah, shit.
My motorcycle was Harley, custom made, and sweet as
sugar. It had an engine that revved like a thing of beauty, was
badass black and chrome, and had every extra gadget I could
squeeze on there. It had taken more than a year for them to
make it to my specs, and it was my pride and joy.
“She still worth it?” Adam asked.
Yeah. She was. This was a bet I couldn’t lose.
“Are we on?”
I turned to Rich, who’d asked the question. Glanced at the
girl. And nodded. “Yeah. We’re on.”
Without hesitation, I pushed myself away from the bar
and headed toward her.

His voice was rich and deep, and made my stomach flip
when I thought of all the things he could whisper to
me. Naughty things. I felt my cheeks go pink. Damn that inner
voice. Now I looked like some crazed idiot.
“Umm, sorry, I thought you were someone else.”
He made a point to look at the empty space around me.
I frowned. “Someone,” I said stubbornly. “Did you need
He laughed. His eyes were even more spectacular close up,
an aquamarine so clear and blue I felt like I could dive in and
get lost. His hair was curly, and the color of yummy bittersweet
chocolate. The strands fell over his forehead in a messy
sexiness that looked made up. Yeah, he was way too perfect.
Even his cheekbones and jaw were sharp and definitive, giving
him an older, commanding look. Way out of my league. I self consciously
tucked a long strand of my hair behind my ear.
“You’re the real welcoming sort, aren’t you? What’s your
I paused for a beat. Just enough to get my point across—I
was in charge of this conversation. My body disagreed as a
strange heat pumped through my veins and itched under my
skin. “Quinn. Quinn Harmon.”
“Hello, Quinn Harmon. I’m James Hunt. It’s nice to meet
I gazed at him with suspicion from under my lashes. “You
“Are you always this open and cheerful on break? I haven’t
seen you around—do you go to school in Florida?”
“No, I’m with two of my girlfriends for the week. We’re
from Chicago.”
“Ah, the Windy City. I’ve been there a few times. State
The conversation was painful, but he seemed delighted by
my one-word answers. I wondered what his game was. Those
full lips quirked slightly upward as if my crankiness made him
happy. No wonder I couldn’t get laid. I was more comfortable
having a conversation regarding misplaced false teeth and
what foods had to be avoided because they cause gas. Maybe
working in an elderly home in my spare time wasn’t such a
great idea. Of course, soon I’d move into rehabilitation and be
around alcohol and drug addicts. Probably not much better.
“Am I boring you already?”
I blinked. Did my blush deepen? “Oh, sorry.”
He waited for more but I stopped. Stared at him. Our gazes
locked and a weird, tight tension pulled between us. I forced
down my impulse to take a step closer to soak up his body
heat. He didn’t smell of beer or smoke, but the clean scent of
pool water and soap. “Are you enjoying the party?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”

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Preview of Beyond Me – First Ten Pages!

Countdown has begun for Beyond Me, which will be everywhere in digital form March 4th!

 Because my readers are extraordinary, we reached over 800 adds on Goodreads and I’m releasing the next five pages of the book. Click back to my previous blog post for the first five if you missed it. 18 and Over Please! There’s some raw stuff here and NOT for under 18!!


But before I post, just a quick thank you to everyone. When I posted my blog about losing my beloved dog, I was in a very dark place. Social media is a double edged sword – sometimes used for bad purposes. This time it was used for good. The outpouring of support, emails, and love from my readers amazed me. You shared your stories and own heartbreak with me, and I found solace and a smile at such support. I didn’t feel so alone anymore. So thank you for that.


Without further ado…here’s another peek at Beyond Me. Hope you enjoy!




 I sipped the lukewarm beer for something to do, and found a spot near the balcony. Hooking my elbows over the top, I watched the show at the pool while music pounded out in grindy hip-hop rhythm to inspire abandon and nakedness. For one second, I wished I was the type of girl to climb in the pool, shake her ass, and enjoy a little feminine power. I always felt so out of place wherever I went, unless it revolved around work. Social scenes reminded me I wasn’t flashy enough or bouncy enough or enough of anything.

Poor Quinn. At a cool party in Key West on spring break and complaining. My inner voice—who I termed my “inner bitch”—rose up and made me smother a giggle. I had gotten used to talking to myself back in the day and never got out of the habit. Sometimes I was my best company.

My gaze swept the pool deck to see if there was anyone I may know, or want to get to know, and then—boom.

There he was.

Mr. Perfect.

I blinked and tried to clear my vision. Trust me, I’m not one of the swoon-worthy girls who describes a guy like some male specimen. I’ve never been into the visual as much as enjoying a guy’s sense of humor and conversation. Always thought I wasn’t built that way. Even the first naked guy I saw on HBO didn’t do it for me, and all my friends had gone on and on about his abs and ass and dick like they were dying to do him. Me—not so much.

But for the first time, I kind of lost my breath.

He wasn’t movie-star handsome and didn’t own rippling muscles or crazy tats or piercings. He leaned against the railing behind the bar, watching me, a tiny smirk resting on those full lips. As if I amused him by doing nothing. His hair was midnight black, rich against his tanned skin, and fell into perfect, tousled curls over his forehead. His eyes were a startling light blue, so pale they seemed to shimmer in his face with an odd light. I tried to break the gaze, but he wouldn’t let me, just held my stare and refused to let go. As if the first one to look away lost.

I actually shivered under the hot sun. Something about that gleam of interest and laziness said he was trying to decide if he wanted to play the game. If he played, he’d bring it hard.

This guy was no bumbling, inexperienced boy. Probably twenty-three, but his gaze said he’d seen things, done things, and would maybe like to do them with me.

He was bare chested, with plain navy-blue board shorts, and nicely built. Toned, but not overdone. His stomach rippled, and he stood with his feet slightly braced apart, as if he owned his space.


My heart fluttered in my chest, and suddenly my palms grew damp. I squeezed the railing tighter and tried to be cool. Ridiculous. He may be hot, but I don’t think I even liked him. He was too confident, too used to girls falling over him and giving him what he wanted. I hated men like that—as if just by showing up they deserved more than anyone else. It was an entitlement thing, and since I’d had none of it, and had to work my way through every struggle in my life by myself, I didn’t respect him.

He suddenly arched a brow, as if he read my thoughts and was even more amused. Usually, that would embarrass me enough to race inside to escape, but this time I did something that was quite unlike me. I gave him a tight smile, and deliberately turned my back on him.

There. Take that.

Way to go, Quinn. There goes your one opportunity to sleep with a guy who probably knows what he’s doing.

Nah, not worth giving him another notch for his sexual belt. I did have my pride.

But not orgasms.

Please, shut up.

“I didn’t even say anything. How can I shut up?”

Oh God, it was him. I knew it.

I dragged in a deep breath and turned around.



The moment I saw her, my heart stopped.

I know it sounds like bullshit. That stuff doesn’t happen.

It’s always glamorized in those pussy chick flicks. The music blares, their eyes meet, and you know they’ll be fucking each other in the next half hour. Trust me, I’ve been with tons of girls, thought I was actually in love once but quickly got screwed—and not in a good way—and not once has my organ paused in my chest.

She was fucking gorgeous.

Not in the way I knew. I was so used to tons of makeup, tight, tanned bodies, and big tits. It’s the way it is. I run in circles of society and money, and no matter how much I try to get out of it and despise the surface crap, I’m stuck. The few times I met a girl who seemed genuine, I found out later it was an act—a way to grab my attention and seem different.

But this girl rocked me. First off, she came alone, and seemed content to keep to herself. She watched from the edges of the party with a thoughtful, analyzing air that intrigued me. She emanated a quiet, confident presence that radiated around her, like she was a calm in the storm of chaos. She seemed completely removed from the laughter and antics in the pool and around the bar. Not necessarily above it all. Almost like she longed to join but had accepted she wasn’t meant to belong. Her hair fell straight and silky past her shoulders and hid her face, like a screen that swayed back and forth in a game of peekaboo. It was a rich shade of brownish black that contrasted with her pale skin. Sort of like Snow White in modern day. When the curtain finally parted, I was fascinated by her face.

Large almond eyes, dark as sin, stared back at me. Her mouth looked swollen, as if she chewed on her lips as a nervous habit, but maybe they were natural. She owned stark features—high cheekbones, strong jaw, broad forehead. The one-piece bathing suit shouldn’t have been sexy when surrounded by miniscule bikinis, but it was. Hell yeah it was.

The simple black was demure in the front, but cut high on the thigh to emphasize gorgeous, non-ending legs. The thought of those calves gripping my hips as I thrust inside her made me hard. When she turned to the side, I realized the suit pretty much had no back, and the fabric stretched over her ass like a gift from the gods. I imagined cupping her, lifting her up so I could take her brutally against the wall, forcing moans from those lush lips, and biting them myself. Swirls of raw lust caught me off guard. She was unlike anyone I had ever seen, and my dick demanded to claim her.

Of course, this was when a few of my crew busted in on my lightbulb moment. “Fresh meat, James?” Rich pointed out from behind the bar. “You’re eyeing her like you haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Anyone know who she is?” I asked, never taking my gaze from her. “Nah, probably one of the spring breakers in for the week. Your parties are legendary here—and it’s no secret pretty much everyone is invited.” Rich studied her, then shrugged. “She’s pretty. Nothing I’d be chasing though, especially with your options.”

Adam jumped into the conversation, never one to be ignored. “Where’s her group? Never saw girls come alone before.”

“I think she did,” I said.

“Looks snobby to me. Like she’s too good for the others. Besides, she looks cold as ice. What the hell is she doing wearing a one-piece?”

“I think it’s sexy as hell,” I muttered. That was when I made my big mistake. Looking back, I wish I had kept my mouth shut and maybe things would’ve ended up differently.

My friends shared a knowing look. “You got it bad, bro,” Adam commented. “But I’d bet not even you could tumble her.”

Rich grinned. “Agreed. She’s buttoned up so tight you’d need a crowbar to pry off that suit. Probably one of those control freak, studious types that doesn’t know how to let loose.” He gave a mock shudder. “No, thank you.”

Suddenly, her gaze locked on mine. I sucked in my breath as recognition dawned on her face that I had been studying her. She stiffened but met me head-on, raising her chin slightly. I dove deep into a sensual heaven of swirling emotions I craved to figure out. She was so damn expressive, her thoughts flickering over that gorgeous face as she decided what to do next. I waited. Would she smile? Duck her head? Avert her gaze and pretend the connection never happened?

I raised my brow and upped the stakes.

One second. Two. She gave me a dismissing shake of the head and turned her back on me.

“Bro, she just dissed you!” The guys hooted, but I didn’t care.

“It’s a challenge.”

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