I am a slut. No worries. I’ve come to terms with it, and you will too. I’m not one of those girls who thinks she’s too plain, too fat, too skinny, too shy … no, I don’t have that kind of luck. I’m the girl who knows she’s just right for everyone. — Denver
A reputation as a manwhore–with–a–heart–of–gold tends to precede me. But, I don’t do girls with issues, that is until this girl. It’s this girl I want to fix. This girl I want to protect. And maybe … more. — Ransom
Being in love with the same girl your entire life isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. She uses me in every way imaginable. How does she see me? I am her perpetual one-night stand. No strings, no attachments. Just mind-numbing sex … for her anyway. — Greer
Feeling like the life is being choked out of her in the small town of Anaconda, Montana, Denver Dempsey craves the escape that college offers …even if that means leaving her “best friend with benefits” and looking for a new way to forget. Thinking she’s found the perfect hookup in Ransom, Denver’s outlook on college is bright. That is, until Greer shows up looking for a second chance, and Ransom’s interest turns to hatred.
Love. Hate. Triangle.
Who’s using who?
“I really don’t understand what you see in a slut like me, Greer.” His eyes flash, but I don’t let him argue with me. “But I am grateful.” And on that note, I bring his lips to mine. It’s been so long since we’ve tasted each other. We’ve been “seeing” each other for two weeks. Sweet, platonic dates that have ended with a sexually frustrated Denver.
I moan the instant our lips meet. I meant it to be a quick, reassuring, friendly kiss, since we agreed to refrain from that physical side of our relationship for a while, but my body has other ideas. She knows who’s been responsible for her pleasure in the past, and she wants some of that now.
Threading my fingers through his curls, I pull him in and shift my mouth, fitting my lips to his. My tongue darts out to tease his bottom lip, and he opens for me. “Oh, Greer,” I murmur before teasing him lightly. He’s so wet and so delicious. His now hard length rests against my thigh, and I groan. Oh, I want him. I want him now. “Greer, I want you,” I whisper against his lips before kissing him lightly. “Have you been with anyone else?” I screw my eyes tight because I hope not, but I would understand—we all have needs.
He stiffens against me for a second before he whispers gruffly, “Hell, no. Denver, you’re it for me, you know that.” His tongue tangles with mine, searching, destroying. He pulls back and utters, “I want you too. So bad.”
“Let’s go somewhere,” I coax. “There are lots of little trails for us to go get lost on.”
“Mmm … how ‘bout I make you feel good right here?” He nips at my bottom lip. “Right now?”
“What?” I breathe through my haze. “We might get caught.” He recaptures my lips with his and works me over with his tongue. Suddenly I’m reminded of the time we sneaked off during our prom. Oh my God. It was … mind-blowing. The thrill of getting caught. The thrill of our dates waiting for us in the ballroom of the hotel while we fucked each other hard, up against a wall in the housekeeping closet. Yes, please. I want that.
I’m jerked from my thoughts as he pulls me from the truck bed. I latch my legs around his waist, not certain where we are going, but along for the ride, nevertheless. He doesn’t take me far. His truck is farthest from the little party on the creek. He doesn’t open the door though. Just pins me to the truck and lets me slide down, drops one of my legs, and pulls the other high on his hip. He nudges my free leg between his and squeezes me tight.
“You ready? Hold on,” he commands before I can answer.
“What? What are you doing?”
“Trust me,” he says, as he buries his mouth in the hollow of my throat. His hands slide in my back pockets, grasping and squeezing. “We promised. No touching like that. No sex. Even though I can’t wait to be inside you again, this is gonna have to do.” He drops his forehead on mine. Those fiery eyes meet mine, igniting a blaze. “The best non-fuck fuck of your life.” And those words douse it with kerosene, creating an inferno. A tremble works its way through me, and I almost come right then.
Since the dawn of time, Lynetta Halat has lived to read and has written innumerable stories and plays. A lover of good books, bad boys, and kickass tunes, she’d always dreamt of penning books that people could connect with and remember. She also has a secret penchant for wringing the emotions out of unsuspecting readers, and she collects reader’s tears in much the same way that wine connoisseurs collect their favorite vintage.
Her first novel, Every Rose, was the perfect catalyst to launch her into the world of publishing, effectively burrowing her way into the hearts and minds of readers throughout the world. Everything I’ve Never Had was her follow-up adult romance novel. Now, she has penned Used, a New Adult Romance that she hopes sinks its teeth into you and doesn’t let go.
Her love of the English language prompted her to pursue a Master’s degree in English from Old Dominion University in Virginia, where she also minored in snark and interpretive dance. She lives somewhere along the Mississippi Gulf Coast with her adorable husband, two amazing sons, and two loveable dogs. When she’s not writing riveting stories, she likes to focus on her macramé art and her scouring of eBay, where she buys locks of hair from her favorite rock stars, most especially Bret Michaels and Dave Grohl.