Title: The Asshole Heir
Series: A Winter Harbor Heroes #2
Authors: Whitley Cox & Ember Leigh
Genre: Small Town, Second Chance, Secret Baby, Estranged Family, Secret Romance
Release Date: August 16, 2022
Mending fences with my brothers as I uncover family secrets is easy compared to winning back the woman carrying my baby…Carson
Six months ago she ghosted me.
She stopped taking my calls and didn’t even answer her damn door.
Now, with my world upside down and my arm in a cast, where do I find her, but Winter Harbor, seven months pregnant with my baby.
Despite her keeping this secret from me, I want her. I’ve always wanted her. And even though I was dead-set on never having kids, given my own garbage dad, seeing Amaya pregnant and knowing that the baby is mine changes everything. I’m ready to right my father’s wrongs and be there for my kid.
I want the family life, and I want it with Amaya.
But she’s not convinced. And for good reason. Now I just have to prove to her that taking a chance on love–and building a family with a man who’s ruined more romances than started them–is a risk worth taking.
***This is the second book of the Winter Harbor series which features a quirky small town, secrets galore, and three estranged brothers who find the key to healing comes from the women who steal their hearts.
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“This book had me captivated from the very first chapter and drawn to Carson like a moth to a flame. The chemistry between Amaya and Carson is absolutely electric and radiates through every word. This second chance romance is filled with secrets, suspense, drama and just enough chaos to have you on the edge of your seat.” – Wiley Kate (Amazon Review)
“The reader will instantly fall in love with Carson and Amaya and only want them to succeed while they want the pages to go quicker to get more of them but at the same time want the pages to go slower so they can enjoy the ride. Simply a wonderful tale of family and forgiveness." – Nicki Holt ~The Overflowing Bookcase (Amazon Review)
“I really didn't want the book to end, and definitely looking forward to the next. Highly recommend and to me it's worth every one of the 5* I give it.” – Sue Hancock (Goodreads Review)
“This book was one amazing read that kept me totally enthralled as I turned the pages of this must read story! The plot was so well planned and fleshed out with characters that were so well created with such great detail and depth that I remained totally captivated as the story developed between Amaya and Carson!” – Pat (Goodreads Review)
“You’re scaring me with that look, Carson,” she murmured, breaking our eye contact. “You look like you want to devour me whole.”
Because I fucking did. I wanted to eat her mouth, lick her pussy until she was hoarse from screaming, and then sink into her tight heat and make her mine all over again.
Shaking my head, I dislodged those primal, possessive thoughts … until later, and went back to the task of making her feel good and distracting her from her foul mood after running into Stinky Cheese Bree.
I waggled my finger over her clit a couple more times, loving that she met my movements with hip thrusts of her own. Our eyes locked again, but what stared back at me was a need so powerful I had to adjust my cock in my jeans for fear of getting a permanent bend in my favorite body part.
Not that Amaya wasn’t good and thoroughly soaked already, I made sure she was dripping, before I slid one, and then two fingers inside her, pressing my thumb to her swollen clit and moving it back and forth in a way I remember she loved.
“Dear God, Carson,” she said on a strangled moan, her eyes now slammed shut and the bottom lip of her fuckable mouth clenched tight between her teeth, so much so the skin was turning white. “Yes …”
“Yes, what?” I demanded, surprised at how hoarse my voice came out.
“If you make me say Daddy, I will ram my foot into your dick so fucking fast.” She bent her knee and nudged my crotch with her heel in a warning, which made a chuckle roll through me as I curled my fingers inside her and pressed on her G-spot. “Holy fuck.” She arched her back and straightened her leg again, forgetting all about her threat to kick me in the dick.
“I want you to scream for me, Vixen. Burst my fucking eardrums. We know you can. Take all of that rage, all of that tension that’s been making your shoulders kiss your ears and breathe it out into the fucking world. Let it go … Elsa.”
She popped one eye open, calling me an idiot with just a look. I grinned at her cheekily.
But she quickly closed that eye again and continued to writhe on the bench seat of my truck, bucking up into my hand, pushing her pussy further down on my fingers, and reminding me just why this woman had become the closest thing I’d ever had to an addiction.
Because I fucking did. I wanted to eat her mouth, lick her pussy until she was hoarse from screaming, and then sink into her tight heat and make her mine all over again.
Shaking my head, I dislodged those primal, possessive thoughts … until later, and went back to the task of making her feel good and distracting her from her foul mood after running into Stinky Cheese Bree.
I waggled my finger over her clit a couple more times, loving that she met my movements with hip thrusts of her own. Our eyes locked again, but what stared back at me was a need so powerful I had to adjust my cock in my jeans for fear of getting a permanent bend in my favorite body part.
Not that Amaya wasn’t good and thoroughly soaked already, I made sure she was dripping, before I slid one, and then two fingers inside her, pressing my thumb to her swollen clit and moving it back and forth in a way I remember she loved.
“Dear God, Carson,” she said on a strangled moan, her eyes now slammed shut and the bottom lip of her fuckable mouth clenched tight between her teeth, so much so the skin was turning white. “Yes …”
“Yes, what?” I demanded, surprised at how hoarse my voice came out.
“If you make me say Daddy, I will ram my foot into your dick so fucking fast.” She bent her knee and nudged my crotch with her heel in a warning, which made a chuckle roll through me as I curled my fingers inside her and pressed on her G-spot. “Holy fuck.” She arched her back and straightened her leg again, forgetting all about her threat to kick me in the dick.
“I want you to scream for me, Vixen. Burst my fucking eardrums. We know you can. Take all of that rage, all of that tension that’s been making your shoulders kiss your ears and breathe it out into the fucking world. Let it go … Elsa.”
She popped one eye open, calling me an idiot with just a look. I grinned at her cheekily.
But she quickly closed that eye again and continued to writhe on the bench seat of my truck, bucking up into my hand, pushing her pussy further down on my fingers, and reminding me just why this woman had become the closest thing I’d ever had to an addiction.
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A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn't end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it's not quite wine o'clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
Ember Leigh has been writing erotic romance novels since she was far too young. A native of northern Ohio, she currently resides near Lake Erie with her Argentinean husband, where they run an Argentinian-American food truck and wrangle two wild boys.
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