Heart Trouble by Jenny Lyn tells the story of a doctor and a cop. They’re thrown together when she becomes the target of a serial killer. Their attraction to each other instantaneous and hot. Spending 24/7 together just leads to some hot bedroom action and an intense courtship.
Sean and Erin are like two peas in a pod. She’s a doctor with crappy doctor hours and seeing people at their worst. Sean is a copy with crappy cop hours and seeing people at their worst. They get each other.
I loved their attraction to each other. Even before they were thrown together, they were attracted to each other. Being thrown together like that just made their romance happen that much quicker.
The final showdown with the serial killer was pretty intense, even though it was predictable.
Sean is an alpha male who can let go when he needs to. Or rather, when Erin needs him to. He can even say I’m sorry when he’s wrong. Gotta love alpha males that can do that!
This was my first book by Jenny Lyn and I’ll definitely be reading more from her!
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I started reading when I was four, thanks to a babysitter who found out the only way to get me to sit still (and shut up) was to put a book in my hand. By the time I entered kindergarten, I’d blown through just about every Little Golden Book ever printed. Ten years later, much to my mother’s dismay, I found her stash of paperback romance novels. She tried to divert me back to something more chaste by buying me Harlequins, but I still snuck copies of her Kathleen Woodiwiss’s and Johanna Lindsey’s when she wasn’t looking. Shanna, The Flame and the Flower, and Fires of Winter will always hold special places in my heart because they introduced me to roguish heroes, headstrong heroines, and the trouble they could get into together.
I live with my family in a swampy little corner of north-central Florida, close to the Gulf of Mexico and the historic Suwannee River. It’s hot, humid and full of mosquitos, but I wouldn’t trade it for… actually, I would trade it for a cottage on the beach somewhere in the Keys.
In addition to my website, I can be found saying inappropriate things on Twitter as @JennyLynwrites; on Goodreads; and Amazon at http://www.amazon.com/author/jennylyn.
In his right hand he held his gun, strapped inside its holster, which he placed on the nightstand. In his left hand was a strip of three condom packets. She grinned up at him as he tore one off and tossed it on the bed, then dropped the others beside his pistol. An odd juxtaposition, those two items—safety and danger, kind of how she saw Sean.
He crawled over her, bracing his hands beside her shoulders, pinning her legs between his knees. “I like you much better like this. All soft and natural, sexier and even more beautiful than you think you are.” Her stomach did that fluttery thing again. This time she couldn’t blame it on alcohol. “I bet your male patients love having you work on them, a powerful distraction from their pain.” His fingertips traced a path from her neck to her belly. “A dose of you would feel better than a shot of morphine.”
He pushed the hem of her tank top up her stomach and pressed his mouth to her fevered skin. She gasped at the contact. “Sean.”
“If I were lying on a gurney dying, it’d be okay if I could look at you as I go.”
She laced her hands through his hair, grabbing fistfuls and tugging his face up. “Don’t say things like that,” she said, forcing a scowl.
He grinned crookedly. “But it’s true.”
Her hands explored his bunching shoulders, the thick, soft hair that covered his nape, and the flat disks of his nipples, while his mouth found all the secret, sensitive spots on her neck and beneath her ear. He groaned when her blunt nails raked over his rib cage, and Erin loved that she’d made him make that sound.
Sean sat back on his haunches and lifted the tank top, exposing her breasts. Her nipples were already hard, but under his hungry gaze, they pinched even tighter. “Damn.” She raised her arms for him to strip it over her head. “You could be a lingerie model.”
Her blush went unseen in the dim light. “Not my style.”
“No, and I’m glad. I like that you don’t normally flaunt the wares. Makes me grateful that I’m the lucky bastard who gets to see ’em. Maybe even a little greedy,” Sean said as his hands came up to cup her breasts possessively, thumbs brushing back and forth over their peaked tips.
Erin arched, seeking more of his firm touch, wanting his warm mouth. “Sean, please.”
He lowered his head, answering her soft plea. As his tongue made lazy circles around her distended nipple, his fingers strummed at its twin. Sean sucked her into the wet heat of his mouth, and she whimpered, feeling her pussy contract and slicken with his hungry tugs. When he pulled away, he blew softly across the damp, puckered flesh. Erin squeezed her thighs together, thrashed her head on the mattress.
“Like that, huh?” His lips formed the question against the underside of her breast.
Sean focused his attention on her other nipple, treating it to the same lavish attention. Erin tilted her head to watch this time, wanting to memorize the erotic images. He caught her gaze and bared his teeth, biting down until she cried out at the pinch of pain muddled with a rush of pleasure.
Her sex throbbed, needy and swollen. Wet. God, she was so wet it was almost embarrassing. She’d read about women who could orgasm from nipple stimulation alone, but in the past she’d always required much more than that to get off. Given the talent in Sean’s lips and tongue and teeth, she was beginning to see the possibility.
She cupped his cock through his jeans, encouraged by his strangled groan against her skin when she gave him a firm squeeze. He was rigid and thick, long if her hand was a decent measuring device. Fumbling with his zipper, she eased it down.
He rose up on his hands and knees again, dark hair falling forward across his forehead and cheeks, his expression pained. “Take my cock out,” he said. “I want to feel those talented hands.”