Saturday, May 25, 2013

Game On by Wylie Snow

Game On
Wylie Snow

A friend of mine recommended that I read Wylie Snow's GAME ON and am I glad she did. In GAME ON Clara Bean is a popular restaurant critic but after suffering an accident she takes great pains to hide her secret. But when the magazine she works for merges with an American company she is made to work with Luc Bisquet who has a secret of his own.
Luc Bisquet is a former pro hockey player who's career ended in a senseless act. While his
injury on the outside has been repaired his emotional injury is still there.
GAME ON by Wylie Snow is awesome. I could not simply put this down. Not only are Clara and Luc's sexual chemistry is hot enough to melt an ice hockey arena but the emotional trauma
both characters are going through will touch readers hearts. If you are looking
for a new contemporary author who writes extra spicy then I suggest you pick up GAME ON by
Wylie Snow.



Secrets, lies, lust ... whatever it takes to win.

Clara Bean, Europe's most respected restaurant critic, lands on American soil to do a promotional tour with a sports icon. But how will she keep her career-ending secret from her deliciously handsome new partner? She quickly learns that all games have rules, even falling in love.

Luc Bisquet can't seem to score any points with sassy, sexy Clara despite the palatable chemistry between them. But he's willing to endure as many penalties as it takes to crack her icy reserve, because winning is everything. Game on.


Luc’s mouth travelled lower, leaving a trail of whispered kisses down her neck and over the blade of her collarbone. He ran his hands down her bare arms and slid them around her rib cage. Her nipples pebbled, strained against the fabric of her dress. But he continued to play with her, moving only his thumb to skim the swollen, sensitive underside. An eternity later—or maybe seconds, who could tell—he brushed her with the palm of his hand.
Clara cried out, desperately wishing he’d rip her dress off, dispose of all the barriers. Instead, he rolled the hardened bud between thumb and forefinger through the thin material, squeezing with an achingly delicate touch. At the same time, he licked the shell of her ear, then caught the lobe between his teeth and nibbled as if his mouth were on her breast, as if he were teasing the throbbing peak with his tongue, devouring her. Her shoulders gave an involuntary shudder as a wave of desire flooded her core. She arched into him, pressed into his hand, sighed his name.
Luc cupped her bottom and pulled her against him so she could feel exactly what she was doing to him. His erection, bold and unapologetic, pressed against her.
Raw lust ripped through her. She wanted him, God she wanted him, on her, in her, all over her. Whatever bounds of propriety she possessed completely shattered. Shamelessly, she bracketed his face in her hands and brought his mouth back to hers, except this time she was leading the dance. Insatiable, she thrust her tongue between his parted lips and daringly explored.
He welcomed her, encouraged her with his throaty moans. Tongues clashed, fought for power, for satisfaction. There was no gentle choreography, no timing, no rhythm, just need. Demanding need.
Heat and need coursed through her veins. Clara wanted him. Now.
She hooked her ankle around his and rubbed her calf up the back of his leg. She pressed into the back of his knee, drawing his thigh against her, there, and practically exploded on the spot.
Luc reached under her skirt and stroked up the length of her thigh.
Clara’s skin felt hot and cold at the same time. Goosebumps spread over the surface of her arms, her back, anywhere Luc wasn’t touching, while the rest of her flamed. Her hips quivered, longing to thrust against him, but it wasn’t his thigh she wanted between her legs.
As if reading her thoughts, he removed his leg from between hers and replaced it with his hand. Clara gasped against his mouth as he cupped her mound. Dizzy and afraid her legs would give out, she snaked her arms around his shoulders and held on.
Clara’s knees trembled as Luc rubbed her with gentle pressure. She tore her mouth from his and buried her face against the taut muscles of his neck. “Oh yes. God, yes.”
It was all the permission he needed to slip his fingers into her damp folds.
His touch was electric. Whiter, hotter, and infinitely more intense than she’d ever experienced. His deft strokes sent searing flames straight from her core to the tips of her toes.
“I want you,” he growled against her ear.
“Yes,” she breathed, reaching down to tug at his belt.
“I need to be inside you.”
 “Yes, Luc, yes.”
She tried to manipulate the buckle but her motor skills failed as the coiled heat grew tighter, tighter, tighter—
“Now, Clara. Now.
Every muscle in Clara’s body tensed and shuddered as a blinding orgasm ripped through her. “Yes, yes, God yes.”
If the elevator hadn’t dinged its arrival, Luc undoubtedly would’ve have taken her right there, in the corridor of the Sagamore Hotel.
And she would have let him.

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