He wants her soul. Too bad she already sold it.
Family is everything to gambling den darling, Teresa Valentini. Blood comes first, especially before men. So when her brother lands himself in hot water, she’s willing to do whatever it takes to save him. And showing up topless in her unwitting savior’s motel room is turning out to be the furthest thing from a hardship…
Will Caruso is the bad boy of New York’s financial scene…and he just found out the very thing that drives his success is a damn lie. Now, he’s exchanged his high-stress life for the open road, no one but his Great Dane…and half a million Instagram followers to keep him company. When a mysterious beauty arrives, her secrecy prods his suspicions, even while she tempts his lust to the breaking point.
Teresa met Will under false pretenses, but the bond consuming them is real. They’re strong enough to overcome a little betrayal…aren’t they?
Tantalizing and provocative, Follow easily became an addictive story from the first page. There will be no surprise that Bailey easily penned two complex, well-rounded main characters with a distinct and unique path for them to journey on. But what will be surprising is her ability to pull a kinked rabbit out of her dirty bag’o’tricks to make this story distinctly her own brand, and in a rare (for her) first-person written form, too.
For a story cloaked in secrecy, the depth of raw honesty between Teresa and Will was all too vivid. The confidence and badass personas they constructed to push the playing field to their benefit became a stalemate of epic proportions as sexual tensions escalated. Bailey’s rare skill of creating an erotic story different from everything else she’s written again shines brightly as she adds a new level to her game. Written with the most basic of human instincts in mind, she fleshed out the guttural aspects of a human to human emotional and sexual connection with ease and a trained hand. Their connection, in every way, spoke volumes to how beautifully the story was woven as it built higher and higher.
Follow was incredibly erotic, but only because Bailey made these characters work for that level of exposure of themselves and for the power to envelop us. I want to see more stories like this from her–stories that beg to be devoured and demand to become a part of you, and she’s been delivering on that for years. The level of heat that emits from this story is sky-high, but it had a strong plot, character growth, and a love that was earned. It’s a must-read story, and it will leave you bereft once it’s over.
The cheers are deafening. Will hoots and rises from his chair, moving into a spot behind mine. Paula takes his place across from me. Everyone crowds in on all sides. And suddenly my world has been narrowed down to an arm wrestling arena.
“All right, baby.” Will’s voice smokes into my ear. “Here’s how we get to five seconds. You’re going to top-roll.”
“We? And what is that?”
I sound like a hysterical cartoon character, but Will continues undaunted, his breath on my neck, his thumb massaging me between the shoulder blades. “If we make this a bicep game, she’s got you beat, so we’re going to make it about hands, fingers and wrists, to ease the disadvantage. You’re going to work your palm upwards, along hers, like you’re trying to wrap your hand around the top part of hers. Just hold firm and focus on coming over the top of her.”
Paula is mean mugging me across the table, gum being mutilated between her teeth. “I thought you ran a hedge fund,” I mutter to Will.
“I didn’t always,” he mutters, laying a kiss on my cheek. “Five seconds. You got this.”
“I was wondering why you aren’t already married. Mystery solved. You get a lap dance from your date. Then she gets her arm torn off.”
Another kiss and this time his lips linger on my temple. “You could look at it that way. Or you could look at it mine. Thank fuck I’m not married or I’d have missed the girl who gave me a lap dance, then took on the local gator-wrestling champ. All before lunchtime.” His fingers slide up into my hair and tug, firm and gentle all at once. “Thank fuck, right?”
♦ABOUT THE AUTHOR♦
Tessa Bailey is originally from Carlsbad, California. The day after high school graduation, she packed her yearbook, ripped jeans and laptop, driving cross-country to New York City in under four days.
Her most valuable life experiences were learned thereafter while waitressing at K-Dees, a Manhattan pub owned by her uncle. Inside those four walls, she met her husband, best friend and discovered the magic of classic rock, managing to put herself through Kingsborough Community College and the English program at Pace University at the same time. Several stunted attempts to enter the work force as a journalist followed, but romance writing continued to demand her attention.
She now lives in Long Island, New York with her husband of eight years and four-year-old daughter. Although she is severely sleep-deprived, she is incredibly happy to be living her dream of writing about people falling in love.