Tuesday, August 19, 2014

No In Between Lisa Renee Jones

No In Between (Book Four) Inside Out
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Goodreads:  http://bit.ly/1oZb1zm
RELEASE DATE: August 19th
Blurb
The fourth in the Inside Out erotic romance series by New York Times bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones, this steamy novel resolves Chris and Sarah's relationship and leads into Mark's story.
"Chris and I have faced our demons and bared our souls to one another in Paris. Now that we are back home in San Francisco, I want to believe that nothing can tear us apart. Not Ava’s accusations against me to the police, or Chris's fear that he will destroy me as he feels he did Amber. And not Mark, who was once too intimately a part of our lives, and who I can see crumbling inside out. He believes he is invincible, just as I want to believe Chris and I are invincible. We have to be invincible. We need each other too much for any other ending.
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Please choose ONLY ONE excerpt
EXCERPT #1, (No In Between (INSIDE OUT #4), Sara’s POV)
My fingers wrap his wrist. “I know you want to protect me, and I love you for that more than you know.”
“Yet too easily, you found a reason to shut me out tonight. Trust isn’t a fair-weather friend. It’s about a willingness to be vulnerable and exposed.”
“And I am willing to do that. That’s why I’m here now.”
He searches my face, and I don’t know what he looks for, what he needs, or what he finds. He releases me abruptly. “Hold out your hands and lace your fingers together.”
Heat rushes through me with the certainty that I’m about to fully understand the painting he’s created of me. This is him sending me a message. He’s not holding back. My confession, as incomplete as it is, has changed nothing. I offer him my arms, aware as I haven’t been in the past few minutes of my naked body, my breasts pressed together.
Chris reaches into his back pocket and produces a roll of art tape, using it to wrap my wrists. Task complete, he bends my elbows and presses my wrists to my chest, his fingers covering the bindings. He has become dark Chris, the dominant Master who never shows emotion; the Chris who arouses me in ways I would never believe a man could.
“Sit down,” he orders, and the way he manages such force with what is no more than a whisper stirs heat low in my body.
My throat is dry and my heart beats so loudly I am certain Chris can hear. I squat and he follows me down, steadying me so I don’t fall without the use of my hands. “All the way,” he murmurs, gently nudging me until my bare backside is on the floor.
He angles my knees up toward my chest, with my feet out enough to stabilize my body. His long lashes lower, half-moons on his cheeks, and I sense him struggling with what has passed between us. He knows I need to see he won’t hold back, but this isn’t just for me. I think he really needs this, too, for me to show him, not tell him, how much I trust him.
Chris tapes my ankles and then throws the roll over his shoulder. My nerve endings are so alive, so on edge that the roll hits the ground like a thundering drum that seems to radiate through the room, through my body. His hands come down on my knees and the touch sweeps over me, awakening nerve endings in the most intimate and unforgiving of places. I feel this man everywhere, I want him everywhere. But as if he knows what I feel, and he means to deny me, he withdraws. I shiver with a sudden cold certain to linger. He will torment me, make me wait for him. Make me beg.
He stands up, towering over me, and I stare up at him, trying to read him, the anticipation of what comes next tingling through me. And it’s supposed to. I see that in his eyes, and I am reminded of his words when I’d first seen the painting. It’s about trust. The kind of trust I want from you and have no right to ask for. He’s going to push me. He’s going to take me somewhere uncomfortable. Somewhere I might not want to go, but I will. With Chris, I will.
EXCERPT #2, (No In Between (INSIDE OUT #4), Sara’s POV)
The elevator dings, and I jerk around to face the exit that leads directly into our apartment. Like the first night I came here, I have an inescapable sense that once I pass through the door, I’ll never be the same again. Life will never be the same.
I realize Chris isn’t touching me anymore. He wasn’t touching me that night, either. It’s as if he feels I have to make the decision to move forward on my own, and some part of me knows why. He needs to know now that home with him is still home to me. It reminds me of why we connect, why we are those missing pieces of a puzzle that have found a perfect fit. No matter how perfect his being imperfect makes him to me, he will never see himself as I do. He will never feel he is not flawed. He will always need me to be his eyes, and he is mine.
I walk into the apartment, the glossy, light wood beneath my feet. Our suitcases are already sitting by the entryway, brought up from the service entrance. Intentionally repeating what I’d done during that first visit here, feeling that’s what he wants, I travel down the steps to the sunken living room. I drop my purse on top of the coffee table as I pass and keep going until I stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling window. Flattening my hands on the glass, watching the orange glow of the sun fade into the water, I see the stars begin to illuminate a city as shrouded in secrets as Chris and I once were. But now our blank canvas is inked with colors, not fears, and love has blossomed where there was once only passion.
Music begins to play and I smile when I hear “Broken” by Lifehouse, amazed that Chris would actually remember the song he’d played that first night we were together. I’m falling apart, the lyrics say. I’m barely breathing. I’m not falling apart, but as Chris steps behind me, his heat radiating through me, I am definitely barely breathing.
He caresses my coat off my shoulders, and this replay of the past sends an erotic thrill down my spine. As his hands fall away from me my lashes lower, my breath hitching as I anticipate his touch, waiting, wanting, until finally his hands settle possessively on my waist. He leans into me, and the feel of the thick ridge of his erection against my backside is impossibly arousing. A delicate, enticing brush of his fingers sweeping hair from my neck follows and rolls over me like a warm sun expanding through a newly open blind.
“Put your hands on the glass above you,” he orders softly.
The command thrills me, and the temptation to do as he bids, to relive our first night together, is a powerful one. Yet I have the unnerving sensation of also reliving the uncertainty I’d thought we were beyond. I don’t understand this feeling, and I don’t like it.
Desperate to drive it away, I turn to face him, momentarily overwhelmed by how tall and broad, how perfectly male he is. And as I blink instead of speak, he claims control again. He presses me against the window, his powerful thighs frame my legs, his hands brand my hips.
His head tilts, the stubble of his jaw rasping deliciously on my skin, as he announces, “I’m going to fuck you against the window again.”
Please. Yes. Don’t make me beg, I think, and the rest of the world begins to slide away. There is only this man, the blistering heat he creates in me, and the foggy certainty that I’d had something important to say. He nips my earlobe, erotically licking away the pinch he’s created, his hands traveling upward, over my rib cage, his fingers brushing the curves of my breasts.
My nipples tighten and the low thrum he’s created in my sex, over hours of verbal teasing, blossoms and intensifies. “Chris,” I whisper, a plea for more in my voice. For him. I want him, all of him.
“Hands over your head,” he orders again.
I want to obey. Being at this man’s mercy is the biggest adrenaline rush of my life, but that feeling is clawing at me again, the sense that all is not right. Leaning into him, I ball my fingers around his shirt, and search his handsome, unreadable face. “Are we okay?”
Surprise flashes in his eyes, followed by that indefinable emotion again that I want to call vulnerability but isn’t. I don’t know what it is. He cups my face. “I need you too damn much for there to be any other answer.”
EXCERPT #3, (No In Between (INSIDE OUT #4), Sara’s POV)
“I don’t doubt us.”
“You do. But we’re going to fix that and I’ve already figured out there’s only one way to do that, aside from me melting down and you realizing that I’m here to stay. I’ve taken things slowly to protect the trust between us, but we’re ready for what comes next, and I’m going to push you and push you hard. I’m going to tear down every inhibition you own until I own them. I’m going to make you crazy wondering what will be next and even crazier when it comes. I’m going to take you to places you think you can’t go, and find out you can. And when you say ‘I do’ to me, there won’t be any doubts or any barriers left. Are you prepared for what that means?”
“Yes,” I whisper. “It’s what I’ve been asking for.”
“Then we start now.” He turns me to face the counter, shocking me by yanking my skirt up and palming my cheeks. His eyes meet mine in the mirror. “I’m going to spank you. There won’t be any foreplay or fucking after. It’s going to sting. You will not cry out. When I’m done, I’m leaving, and you will bring your pretty little backside and sit down next to me like nothing happened. And when I’m ready, I’ll fuck you. Choose now. Accept it or not.”
The idea is horrifying and sexy, and I’m wet and aching and so many things at once that I can barely breathe. “I . . . yes. Yes, I do.”
He yanks my panties off and stuffs them in his pocket. His hand comes down on my backside and it’s such a shock, I barely swallow my yelp. Already his palm is on me again. I try to count. Three. Four. Five. Oh God. Six.
He turns me to face him, his hands going to the counter, not touching me. I’m panting in pain and pleasure, my knees weak. “Pull your skirt down and come back to the table. I want you there in two minutes. If you take one second longer, I’ll bring you back in here and spank you again. Understand?”
“Yes.”
He turns and leaves the bathroom.
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SERIES READING ORDER & SALE LINKS
If I Were You (bk 1) ONLY $1.99
Rebecca’s Lost Journals Box Set
(bks 1.1-1.4 and includes Master Undone (bk 2.5) ONLY $2.99
Being Me (bk 2) ONLY $2.98
Revealing Us (bk 3) ONLY $2.98
His Secrets (bk 3.1) ONLY $0.99
My Hunger (bk 3.2) ONLY $0.99
No In Between (bk 4) Releasing 8/19
My Control (bk 4.1) Releasing 9/8 ONLY $0.99
Amazon PRE- ORDER: http://amzn.to/1Bn9xUn



About the Author:
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New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Lisa Renee Jones is the author of the highly acclaimed INSIDE OUT SERIES, and is now in development by Suzanne Todd (Alice in Wonderland) for cable TV. In addition, her Tall, Dark and Deadly series and The Secret Life of Amy Bensen series, both spent several months on a combination of the NY Times and USA Today lists.

Watch the video on casting for the INSIDE TV Show HERE
Since beginning her publishing career in 2007, Lisa has published more than 40 books translated around the world. Booklist says that Jones suspense truly sizzles with an energy similar to FBI tales with a paranormal twist by Julie Garwood or Suzanne Brockmann.
Prior to publishing, Lisa owned multi-state staffing agency that was recognized many times by The Austin Business Journal and also praised by Dallas Women Magazine. In 1998 LRJ was listed as the #7 growing women owned business in Entrepreneur Magazine.
Lisa loves to hear from her readers. You can reach her at on her website and she is active on twitter and facebook daily.


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