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USA TODAY BEST-SELLING BOOK The rules: no kissing on the mouth, no staying the night, no telling anyone, and above all... No falling in loveAnna Jones just wants to finish college and figure out her life. Falling for star quarterback Drew Baylor is certainly not on her to do list. Confident and charming, he lives in the limelight and is way too gorgeous for his own good. If only she could ignore his heated stares and stop thinking about doing hot and dirty things with him. Easy right?Too bad he's committed to making her break every rule...Football has been good to Drew. It's given him recognition, two National Championships, and the Heisman. But what he really craves is sexy yet prickly Anna Jones. Her cutting humor and blatant disregard for his fame turns him on like nothing else. But there's one problem: she's shut him down. Completely.That is until a chance encounter leads to the hottest sex of their lives, along with the possibility of something great. Unfortunately, Anna wants it to remain a hook up. Now it's up to Drew to tempt her with more: more sex, more satisfaction, more time with him. Until she's truly hooked. It's a good thing Drew knows all about winning.All's fair in love and football...Game onNew Adult/Contemporary Romance with a HEA - Recommended for readers 18 and older.Book 1 in the Game On series.~ EXCERPT from THE HOOK UP, copyright 2014 Kristen Callihan ~And all I can think of is that we are alone together. Utterly. Finally. I can't look at him then. Not directly. He is the sun, burning bright."Why are you here?" My voice is a wisp of sound in the small space.So is his. "I want you."The floor dips beneath me, his confession taking up too much air. Baylor seems just as shocked by his words, his eyes going wide and his lips parting. But he commits to them with a squaring of his broad shoulders. "Tell me you don't want me too, and I'll go."My mouth opens, a denial on my lips, then he reaches for me. It's barely a touch, just the tips of his fingers on my elbow, as if he's planning to guide me back downstairs. It's the smallest of contact. Nothing really. And yet it's everything. The small contact burns, ripples outward along my skin with lightning fast intensity, and my breath hitches.His does too. A quick glance up, and he searches my face as though seeking an affirmation. Whatever he sees must tell him that he's not alone in this because he doesn't let go.Neither of us says another word. Blood rushes hot and thick through my veins, as the backs of his fingers skim slowly, oh so slowly, up my arm. His pulse thrums, quick and visible just beneath the golden skin of his throat. I want to lick that spot, put my mouth there and suck. I want him. I want him so badly that I'm going up in flames.A quiet, pained sound escapes me as his knuckles drift toward my inner arm, just to the side of my breast. I'm shaking deep within myself, an increasing tremor that spreads outward, until my breath comes in choppy pants that I fight to control.What am I doing? This is Drew Baylor. Nothing good can come of this. I need to be strong. I need to stop this. To walk away.I twitch, leaning into his touch, wanting, needing him more.His lips part with a sigh, as if touching me is both a relief and a source of pain. Somehow my hand settles on his hip, the bone solid beneath his skin. He tenses, a visible clench that has his biceps bunching. The next instant, my fingers steal under his shirt.
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