New Adult Contemporary Romance
Date Published: July 27, 2015
Up and coming racecar driver, Kisima Jennings, is all alone in the world and that’s just how she likes it. After all, she has her career, who needs family? But when a near-fatal crash jeopardizes her future, she’s forced to lean on someone for the first time in her life.
As an athletic trainer, Derek Donovan is driven and has always kept his eyes on the prize, never letting personal entanglements come between him and his dream of becoming a head trainer for the New Orleans Jaguars. That is, until one misstep costs him everything. Now he’s starting over, but with a client as tempting as Kisima, is he destined to repeat the mistakes of his past? Or will letting someone close bring him everything he’s ever wanted? Will the Race for Love trump the race for her future or can Kisima really have the best of both worlds?
★★★★☆ : Great! I liked this book!
A brush with death was all it took for Kisima Jennings to realize who mattered to her and who her family was. She was quite afraid to get attached with anyone, making her recovery a little more painful than it should be.
Derek Donovan, therapist to athletes, was supposed to land on his dream job in a basketball team. Before it comes to fruition, he broke up with his roadie girlfriend, after he caught her cheating on him. Soon he found his dreams crushed when he realized he’d been fired, because “coincidentally” the father of the girl he dumped happened to be the owner of the basketball team he was supposed to be joining. Tough luck, eh!
When Derek learned about Jennings involved in a car crash and needed health rehabilitation, he was called to help her out. Surprise, surprise! He didn’t know Jennings was a woman, and he found himself attracted to her and soon got entangled in a web of family drama, broken trust and flailing relationship.
I was kind of giddy while reading this book. I don’t know, maybe there’s something about female race car drivers that please me. It’s their speed, their guts, their ferocity and their agility that impress me a lot. So when this book came to my lap, I grabbed the opportunity and was more than pleased to meet Kisima Jennings.
Call me a feminist, but it really gives me pure pleasure to see female characters who could take on their male counterparts; who could prove that they can do better than the men in the field. Race for Love gave me that unadulterated thrill and excitement and sent shivers down my spine. Kiss Jennings was a femme fatale.
“Can you come in here for a sec?”
Fuck yes. But his rational brain stopped him from doing the stupid thing. “Are you sure about that?”
She hesitated a second. “Yes. Please, I need your help.”
With an exhale, he knew how this was going to go down. If he touched a wet, slippery Kiss, he was going to want to touch more. Kiss, lick, fuck. But he opened the door anyway.
Steam filled the expansive bathroom. But through it he could see it was a larger version of the guest bath down the hall. The floor was a white marble and white and gray glass tile lined the shower. His gaze raked over her hungrily. From her delicate feet and strong calves to the lean strong thighs. But then her mauve towel stopped the progression of his exploration. Damn. “What’s the problem?”
She sighed with relief as she turned, keeping just her head in the stream of the shower, trying to avoid getting the towel wet. She squinted up at him as the spray of water hit her face. “I managed to wash it okay, and even get conditioner in, but I’m dead exhausted and my shoulder started to talk to me. Normally I’d have just kneeled at the tub to wash it, and last time, Leah helped me, but I’m sort of desperate here.”
She was wet, and slick. And he wanted his hand in her hair. He’d had a million dreams just like this one. In fact he wasn’t entirely sure he wasn’t dreaming right now. “Okay, what do you need?”
“If you could just help me make sure that the conditioner is out, I can do a quick detangle.”
“Uh, okay.” Except to do it, he was going to have to get into the shower. First option was to take off his clothes and climb in with her. He liked that option. The idea of burying himself inside her had him biting back a groan. Yeah no, no naked. He’d have to go in clothed.
He removed his phone and put it on top of the toilet. When he opened the glass door, her eyes flared. “What are you doing?”
“To make this work properly, you need to be under the stream of water right?”
“Okay then, I’m getting wet.”
“Oh, uh…” Her voice trailed.
“Do you want my help or not?”
“I do. Sorry. I guess I just didn’t think this all the way through.”
He clamped his jaw together. The sooner you help her, the sooner you can go back to your room and take a cold one. Once in the stream of the shower, her scent surrounded him and he knew he was going to lose the battle and the war. He was already losing a grip on his control and he hadn’t even touched her yet. “Uh, just stand in the stream and I’ll rinse you out. While you’re at it, give me the wide-tooth comb.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’ll manage.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m in here, I’m wet and I know how to detangle hair.”
A light flush stained her cheeks. “While I believe you’ve probably done this before, I, uh, black hair is different.”
He blinked at her, the laugh rushing out of him just like always. He never knew what was going to come out of her mouth. “I guess I should have probably mentioned four of my sisters are black, or half black anyway. Two of them with hair curlier than yours. I got this.”
Her jaw unhinged and she did a guppy routine for a moment, then she handed over the wide-tooth comb. “Have at it.”
“Turn around.” Damn, why did his voice sound so hoarse? When she did, the water ran though her hair, rinsing out the conditioner and he massaged the rest out with the pads of his fingers. In front of him, Kiss groaned and let her head relax back into the scalp massage he was giving her. The towel she clutched was soaked and no doubt heavy by this point.
He forced his mind to go blank as he rinsed and massaged. Gently, he began to detangle her hair, starting in sections from the ends to the roots. Growing up, he’d had to help get Brooklyn and Max ready for school sometimes, so he knew what he was doing. When he was done, he couldn’t keep his hand out of the softness of her hair and he kept finger detangling.
Slowly she turned into him, blinking up at him through wet, sooty lashes. “Th-thank you. I couldn’t have done that myself and it went much faster.”
The first step in dealing with a problem was admitting he had a problem. He was fighting the pull, but it had been an uphill battle from the minute he saw her. If he was Clark Kent, she was his Kryptonite. “Kiss, I–fuck it.” He cupped the back of her head and pulled her into him. Before melding their lips together, he paused, giving her an out, but she didn’t protest. Instead, her fingers dug into his soaked T-shirt and dragged him closer.
When he slid his lips over hers, need took over and all brain function ceased.
USA Today Best Seller, Nana Malone’s love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she “borrowed” from her cousin.
It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She’s been in love with kick butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters.
While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, in the meantime Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.
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