Today we have Breaking
Cage on the blog!
Check out this sexy
new sports romance and grab your copy today!!
About Breaking Cage:
There is speculation
that he killed a girl . . .
Journalist Hannah
Black has just been given the assignment of a lifetime: Get the exclusive story
from the Chicago Bears’ new starting quarterback, Derek Cage. There’s only one
problem—Derek refuses to talk to reporters. The son of a famed Illinois
senator, this football star despises the media. Hannah has never
been one to follow orders, especially when she wants something. When her new
assignment tries to give her the brush off, Hannah won't take no for an answer,
going to extremes to get the attention of this superstar athlete. Drawn
to her quirky questions and die-hard persistence, Derek begins opening up to
this rookie reporter, and he can’t stay away no matter how hard he tries.
As the two get closer, Hannah finds herself falling for the enigmatic
quarterback. But nothing’s ever easy. As a decade old secret comes to light,
Hannah has to decide how far she’ll go and how many lines she’s willing to
cross to keep Derek safe. Is uncovering the truth worth the risk of
losing it all?
Exclusive Excerpt:
There
is a small commotion at the entrance of the hotel. Derek strolls into the
lobby. The dark strands of his hair are pulled off his face, and his square jaw
is covered in stubble. Sexy. He’s aloof. His fuck-off attitude has my
pulse quickening. He affects me more than I’d care to admit, and I’m defenseless
when he spots me, his eyes piercing the distance between us, his brow creasing,
his frown tightening. Lowering his dark lashes, he stops and inhales a deep
breath. It seems my appearance has angered him, but then he opens his stunning
blue eyes, and a sexy and sweet grin appears on his face, sending my heart into
panic mode. He’s magnificent. He’s not walking but striding toward me. His
white button-down is un-tucked over faded blue jeans, and the sleeves are
rolled to his elbows. “Hannah.” He takes the seat beside me. “I didn’t realize
press was staying in this hotel.” “I’m not officially press. I’m here to see
you.” The bartender interrupts us. “Can I get you a drink, Mr. Cage?” Derek
nods. “Water, please.” He fingers a loose tendril of hair on my cheek. “I have
a game tomorrow, Hannah.” He slides his knees between mine, trailing his
fingers sensually down my bare arm. My skin tingles in its wake. It’s the
oddest sensation, and it’s distracting. “I know. I came to watch, cheer you
on.” My voice is higher than usual, my sudden desire for him impossible to
hide. A smile lights his face, causing butterflies to take flight inside my
stomach. Carl puts the water in front of Derek, and as he takes a sip, I’m
fixated on the movement of his throat, the strength of his jaw, the bronze
color of his skin. Derek sets the glass down. “Do you have a ticket?” With
unsteady hands, I pull one out of my purse and wave it in front of him. He
snatches it from my fingers, studies it. Seemingly disappointed he says, “This
is press seating.” Larry had pulled a few strings yesterday when I called,
begging him to get me a pass into this game. Technically, I’m not press, Travis
is. My focus is on Derek Cage, not the Bears. But I need to be there. I will
always need to be there if I’m going to learn anything about Derek Cage. Two
hours later, I had one VIP ticket to the press box and locker room access.
“Connections,” I say with a shrug. Derek grips the ticket between his thumb and
forefinger. In one swift move, he rips it in two. “What are you—?” “I’ll get
you a field pass and a seat in the owner’s box. You don’t have to sit with the
parasites.” My heart races; my palms sweat. What is going on here? I stare at
the liquor bottles that line the back of the bar. “Derek. I am the
press.” “No. You’re my press.” I stare at him speechless. It’s what
I’ve wanted, a break into that coat of armor, but I wasn’t expecting it. “Ask
me anything you want, Hannah.” “What?” I quickly turn in his direction. He
leans forward and slides his hands up my legs, moving my dress high on my
thighs, and I think my vagina has had a coronary. Sensations explode between my
legs when the warmth of his breath flutters across my ear, my heart pounding
furiously. “You are sitting in this bar, wearing a fuck-me-now dress and shoes
I’d ask you to leave on if you were in my bed. Your nipples are as hard as gum
drops, and you expect me to believe you came here to watch the game?” Heat
floods my cheeks, and I sneak a quick peek down. For fuck’s sake, my
nipples are hard. Note to self: wear a padded bra around this man.
Leaning forward, his lips graze the outer edge of my ear. “Ask me,” he
whispers. “Ask me anything you want.”
About AJ Pryor:
A.J.
Pryor lives in Los Angeles with her husband and two daughters. If not home
writing, you can find her at the beach, the yoga studio or the soccer field
with her girls. An avid reader of contemporary romance, new adult and young
adult novels, her Kindle is always within reach. She has a Bachelor of Arts
degree from the University of California, Santa Barbara.
Connect with A.J on Social Media
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