eBook Details

Backfield in Motion

Series: The Seattle Lumberjacks , Book 4.0
By: Jami Davenport | Other books by Jami Davenport
Published By: Boroughs Publishing Group
Published: Sep 30, 2013
ISBN # 9781938876806
Word Count: 81,200
Heat Index     
EligiblePrice: $3.99

Available in: Epub, Mobipocket (.mobi), Adobe Acrobat

Categories: Romance>Drama Romance>Contemporary Romance>Erotic Romance

Description
ALL YOU’LL EVER BE IS A PRETTY FACE

Star running back Bruce “Bruiser” Mackey has heard those words his entire life, especially after his twin brother’s tragic accident. He might use his surfer-boy good looks to land lucrative endorsements for his secret charity, but he hates books being judged by their covers. Which is why it’s wrong that his friend Mackenzie Hernandez is intent on giving herself a makeover.

Sure, Mac and her father have been reeling financially since her brother disappeared three years ago, and Lumberjacks management gives an annual scholarship that might get her life back on track, but he can’t imagine anyone smarter, sexier, or more beautiful than Mac already is. He can’t keep his hands off her—and the more they spend time together, the less he wants to. She’s perfect as is. One way or another, he’ll make sure the team’s tomboy groundskeeper gets a full ride. And between the two of them, they can learn to accept what’s behind them and look downfield to a future full of win.
 
Reader Rating:  Not rated (0 Ratings)
Sensuality Rating:   Not rated
 
Editorial Reviews:
From Emily
I discovered this series shortly after the first book was released & have been hooked ever since. Each book I finish I don't know how she can make me love another character as much as she just did, but Jami never disappoints. If you are a long time fan of these hunky football men, or if you're just finding this series, you can't go wrong.
Excerpt:
“I’m freezing my ass off. Hurry up, will ya?”

“You’re in a snit today.” Harold sniffed as if Bruiser had hurt his feelings. Well, fuck, Harold wasn’t the one standing around in a frigid horse barn wearing nothing but SportsJock underwear, a Stetson, and a pair of Tony Lamas. Harold’s assistant flitted around like a pesky fly, messing with Bruiser’s perfectly styled blond hair. He fought like hell not to bite the poor little guy’s head off just for sport.

“Okay, tease us a little. Hook your thumb in the waistband and pull it down just so it stops short of your junk.”

Bruiser knew the drill. He almost made more from modeling than he did football. Plus, he didn’t have a modest bone in his body. If they’d asked him to strip, he’d have stripped and given them the full-meal deal. But the league frowned on all-out nudity, so Bruiser’s nude modeling had to be tastefully done with the goods disguised in dark shadows.

Bruiser changed his pose, propping one foot on the hay bale.

“Turn slightly. Put your back to me. Good. Good.”

Click. Click. Click.

“Now strip off your shorts, hold them with a finger, and cover your package with your hat.”

“How does that sell underwear?” Despite Bruiser’s immodesty, getting nude fucking irritated him today.

“Do I look like a marketing person? Just another pose they asked for.”

Bruiser shrugged and shucked out of his briefs—not easy when wearing boots—and dangled them on one finger as he held his hat over his crotch area. Harold clicked away while Bruiser changed poses and forced himself to stay alert.

“I expected your dick to be so big you’d need a sombrero to cover it.”

Bruiser dropped the hat and spun around to face the speaker. Mackenzie Hernandez, known as Mac to all the guys on the team, stood in the barn door. Small and fit, with a nice little body, Mac was kinda cute with her upturned nose, mischievous deep brown eyes, and long, wavy, dirty blonde hair, but she downplayed her physical attributes as if she didn’t give a shit about appearances.

Mac made a show of looking at his crotch and arching an eyebrow, not the least bit embarrassed. But then, not much embarrassed Mac.

Caught off-balance, Bruiser stared down at his dick. A sombrero? Of course it was big enough to need a sombrero. What the hell was she talking about? Even shriveled in the cold, damp Seattle morning, he didn’t think it looked that small.

Did it?

He bent down to pick up his Stetson, not bothering to cover himself, and tamped down his annoyance while ramping up the charm.

Little dick, my ass.

“Now, honey, that cuts me to the quick.” He held his Stetson over his heart and let out an exaggerated sigh.

Backfield in Motion

By: Jami Davenport
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