Blog Tour: When I Had You by S.L. Scott
WHEN I HAD YOU
By S.L. Scott
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Narrated by CJ Bloom & Sebastian York
His mere proximity causes my heart to beat wildly in my chest.
When I Had You, an all-new single dad, enemies to lovers, sports romance from New York Times bestselling author S.L. Scott is now available!
Cash Ryatt is a distraction.
When I Had You, an all-new single dad, enemies to lovers, sports romance from New York Times bestselling author S.L. Scott is now available!
Cash Ryatt is a distraction.
It’s no secret the bad boy race car driver has built a reputation from two things. Winning and fu—front-page headlines. I’ve read he’s the best at both, but I have no intention of finding out firsthand.
I have my own plans, and they don’t include making the gossip sites as his next one-night stand. My three older brothers, his bosses, would never stand for it anyway.
So, how did I find myself daydreaming about the one man I’ve been forbidden from dating?
His mere proximity causes my heart to beat wildly in my chest.
My knees go weak when his eyes find mine across the track.
But it’s the way he kisses me as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist that has me falling into his playboy trap.
I finally surrender to temptation, but only for one night, and for the record, there was no standing involved except against a door that got in our way.
But no deed goes unpunished. No matter how good we are together. He’s given an ultimatum. Will he take his last chance to win the world championship or follow his heart and race back to me?
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Keep reading for a look inside When I Had You!
Announcements blare overhead, but I’m focused ahead and specifically on the left.
White shirt against tanned skin.
Brown hair mixed with some blond, which reflects in the sun.
My attention is set on the woman ahead . . . the woman who is too busy to look up from her phone to notice me. I pause, waiting for her to see me. This is a meet and greet, after all. Everyone is only here to greet or to meet me. Except her.
Her eyes stay trained on the phone in her hand. As if I didn’t just prove that this team is a real contender. As if I’m not the star of this show. As if I don’t even exist.
What the fuck?”
People pay thousands of dollars for this opportunity, to have this proximity to greatness, and she’s going to stand there and look at her phone? Fuck that.
I swerve left, the device slipping from her hand just as I pass. Oops.
“What the hell?” Her voice is just a distant memory as I walk away, grinning like the bastard I am.
Wanting to relish the fact she’s now paying attention like she should have been, I slow my pace and glance back. I’m met with blazing blues, lips pursed, hands fisted at the sides of her wound-up little body I wouldn’t mind unraveling. The anger flushing her cheeks gives a hint of innocence that’s tempting to destroy with a good fucking. Though when she cocks her eyebrow and narrows her eyes at me, I know the fire she exudes will burn.
Two layers of a racing kit won’t hide my body’s reaction that she pulls to the surface. The tinted visor doesn’t protect my eyes from her piercing glare either. I keep walking, turning my back to her.
I have a bad habit of finding trouble when I should be steering clear, and that sexy vixen is not only a distraction but a problem I don’t need.
Entering the shop, I pull off my helmet. I barely get it tucked under my arm when I’m shoved from behind. Although it’s too weak to send me forward, it’s the point that someone has the balls to push me at all. “What the—?”
Whipping around, I’m ready to lay into whoever has the nerve to touch me but am stopped when our eyes latch together. I should have known it would be the firecracker with the phone. One hand is clasped around the curve of her waist and the other holding that phone like it’s a lifeline. I smirk. She’s hot. I’ll give her that. She’s also amusing.
Images of sinking into her, feeling the tips of her nails digging into my shoulders, those pink lips begging me to let her take me deeper. Fuck, and I bet those tits would look great pressed against a bathroom mirror. “You want my attention, babe. I’m all yours.”
Holding the phone up to my face, she says, “You owe me a phone.”
I step back, my gaze darting to the shattered screen and then to her. She’s prettier up close, even if the devil has taken over the details of her expression. “Accidents happen.”
“It wasn’t an accident.”
I turn to leave. “Bill the team.”
“The team didn’t do it, asshole.” Her voice stops me, and I shoot her a look over my shoulder. She adds, “You did. On purpose. I saw you.” Of course, she did. She hasn’t taken her eyes off me since. I grin. “So you owe me a new phone.”
Taking my time, I take her in, my gaze hanging on her perky tits just long enough for it to be noted. By her, of course. I know how to push a button or two myself.
“Eyes up here.” She crosses her arms over her chest with such authority as if the simple act has solved the world’s problems.
Closing the gap again, I leave a small space between us, close enough to get a hint of her floral perfume but far enough just in case she comes out swinging physically like she has verbally. “I don’t take orders from anyone except those who sign my paycheck. So run along and find another driver to harass. I have no patience for an intolerable fangirl.”
I’ve never found fury as fascinating as when it consumes her, shifting her body into a tension that I’m fairly certain is not doctor-recommended. “Fangirl?” Her mouth falls open as her eyes widen farther. “Me harass you?” The fire returns, an inferno burning her up as a storm brews in her eyes, darkening her blue skies. “You have some nerve, ass—”
“Marina?” The voice is firm but calm, the exact opposite of this little spitfire in front of me.
Good. Noah Westcott enters the paddock, rushing toward us. As an owner and the marketing director, he’ll be able handle her better than I will. Then I see Loch and Harbor as well, flanking him. Fuck, let’s just make it an owner’s party, shall we?”
They’re all good guys. Noah is as close to a friend as I’ll ever let anyone. But having all three of them at the track isn’t typical operating procedure and puts me on edge.
I wait, giving a small nod to signal toward the woman who appears justified in her stance as she grins in their direction. Her confidence is impressive, considering she’s about to be escorted off the property and probably banned for life from Principle One Racing as soon as security arrives.
“Marina,” Noah starts again. “I see you’ve met one of our drivers.”
Did they call her Marina? As in the youngest of the Westcott siblings, Marina?
As in, the little sister gifted a share of the team last year for her birthday? The same sister who’s an actress?
Shit . . .
“Cash,” Noah says, “I see you’ve met my sister Marina.”
Meet S.L. Scott:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author, S.L. Scott, writes character driven, heart-racing suspense, and swoony romances that will leave you glued to the page. With stories ranging from witty beach reads to heart wrenching and heart healing, her stories are highly regarded as emotional, relatable, and captivating.
Her books are more than escapes for the voracious readers of today. They are journeys of the heart that always come with a happily ever after reward at the end.
Connect with S.L. Scott:
Website: www.slscottauthor.com or https://geni.us/slscott
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