CATCHING CARLY by Emma Hart

 

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Pageflex Persona [document: PRS0000035_00027]My name is Carly Porter… And I’m really good at bad decisions.

How do I know this, exactly? Well, not including the time I accidentally bleached my eyebrows or sprained my ankle changing a lightbulb…

I had sex with my best friend’s brother.

Zeke Elliott has been a thorn in my side for eleven years. A very sexy, very tempting, very freaking annoying one. With big…hands.

And now my clitoris has a crush on the guy.

Seriously. I can’t look at him without my vagina performing accidental kegels. Which would be fine, but he’s Cain’s brother. I hate him. He’s off limits, right?

Right.

 

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I close my eyes and slip one leg out of the window.

Everybody can see my panties.

Not that anyone is here, but I just know everybody can.

This is horrible. And it hurts.

I’m never dating again.

I’m going to buy fifty cats. They’ll never make me climb out of a bathroom window.

“You’re looking at my underwear, aren’t you?” I ask, unfortunately pausing with my legs wide open.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“It’s nice underwear.”

“Oh god.” I swing my other leg down a little too quick.

My dress rides up.

Right over my ass.

And my feet can’t reach the crates.

Zeke chuckles.

“Help me, you pig!”

More laughter.

“I’m gonna be stuck here forever. Oh my god.”

The bathroom door opens.

Can this get any worse?

A fifty-something woman I don’t recognize freezes in the middle of the restroom.

I smile sweetly.

She eyes me suspiciously before shuffling into a cubicle.

“Get me down!” I hiss, kicking my legs. “Now, Ezekiel!”

Something scrapes and knocks together.

“Still so hot when you call me that. Especially when your ass is out.” Thud. “All right, sweetcheeks. I’ve got you.”

“Sweetcheeks? What is wrong with you?”

“Look, you can hang there all night bitchin’ at me if you want, but it’s not my bare ass in the middle of the alley. As much as I’m enjoying the view.”

“Oh my god,” I groan. “You swear you’ll catch me?”

“I swear.” His fingertips brush against my bare legs.

My shudder is disguised by the trembling of my arms as I lower myself down.

Zeke’s fingers trail up the outsides of my thighs until he grasps my waist. “Let go.”

I freeze, tensing up.

“Carly, let go. I have hold of you. I won’t drop you.”

Still tensed, I let go of the window ledge.

My life flashes before my eyes. Seriously. I see everything from my first memory to the moment I let go of the ledge and I squeal because I’m going to die and I know that he’s going to drop me and—

Zeke’s strong grip solidifies when he wraps his arm around my waist and holds me against him. “There,” he says calmly into my ear. “You dropped about six inches. You’re hardly cliff-diving.”

I open my eyes and look down at where his arm is pressed across my stomach. His grip is tight, and the popping veins on his forearm trace tantalizing lines across his skin.

And my dress is still around my hips.

I reach down and tug the material over my upper thighs. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He releases me, and when he jumps down from the crates, I see a flash of his cocky grin. “Nice thong.”

That explains the grin.

I clear my throat. “Thank you. It took me an hour to pick.”

“From your drawer?”

“No. From Victoria Secret. Have you seen how many panties are on that website?”

Zeke holds his hands out for me to take. “Oh, yeah. I’m wearing a pair right now.”

My lips curve slowly as I step down onto the ground. “Interesting. What type? Brief? Thong? Boy short? V-string?”

He blinks at me when I put my shoes on. “Why do you need so many different types? It’d be much easier if you just wore none at all.”

 

 

 

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emma-hart

By day, New York Times and USA Today bestselling New Adult author Emma Hart dons a cape and calls herself Super Mum to two beautiful little monsters. By night, she drops the cape, pours a glass of whatever she fancies—usually wine—and writes books.

Emma is working on Top Secret projects she will share with her followers and fans at every available opportunity. Naturally, all Top Secret projects involve a dashingly hot guy who likes to forget to wear a shirt, a sprinkling (or several) of hold-onto-your-panties hot scenes, and a whole lotta love.

She likes to be busy—unless busy involves doing the dishes, but that seems to be when all the ideas come to life.

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CATCHING CARLY
Emma Hart

With each book that Emma writes I find a couple that I love more than the last. Honestly, I don't see how she will ever top Zeke and Carly. They were simply amazing. I loved every second of the story, and seriously considered rereading it right away. The tension between these two was flying off the pages. I found myself trapped waiting to see if they were going to work it out or not. The best decisions always start with "this never happened". That was definitely true for Zeke and Carly.

Honestly, as much as I loved this book, I was really expecting it to be packed full of crazy antics. It was definitely full of humor and moments that had me laughing out loud, reading bits to my husband, telling my mom, you name it. It was flat out hilarious. The best part though, my heart hurts so much for these two. I wanted nothing more than for them to work it out from the beginning, but there wouldn't be a story if that was the case.

There is so much I could say about Catching Carly, but where is the fun in that? Go read it, now, you won't be disappointed. I promise.

~ Jessica

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