All Gavin Walker, bass player for the multi-platinum selling band, Sphere of Irony, wants to do is surf, play music, and occasionally get laid. The problem is that Gavin has a stalker. A potentially deadly one. The threats he receives always mention something about Gavin being gay, which isn't public knowledge since the record label wants to keep it quiet.
Mitch Hale used to track serial killers for the FBI. A live-changing incident led him to quit the bureau and start his own company providing computerized security for Los Angeles' wealthiest people. Mitch doesn't know anyone when he moves across the country from D.C. to California, and all he has for companionship is a pathetic string of failed relationships with women.
When Gavin's manager hires Mitch to find the stalker, the men instantly hate each other. Despite the constant fighting, attraction between the two blazes hot, confusing the former FBI agent. Spending time with Gavin forces Mitch reflect on what he's denied about himself for the last ten years. Listening to Mitch's plan to catch a madman thrusts Gavin's personal life out in the open for the entire world to see.
Can Gavin and Mitch stop fighting long enough to stop a stalker before someone gets hurt? Or will they stubbornly resist the feelings that develop when they're forced to work together?
This is book 3 in a 4 part series. It is a spin-off of the Famous Series. These can be read as standalones.
ARC received for an honest review
I have to admit that I have not read the first two Sphere Of Irony books, I have not previously read any of Ms Leigh's work.
But after reading Resist, I will definitely be going back to check them out.
Even though this is the 3rd book in the series, I felt that it definitely could be read as a stand alone.
This story is centred on SoI's bass player Gavin Walker. I swear, his story tore at my heart from the prologue. I knew then and there that this was going to be a good one.
Gavin has a secret that he keeps from the public. And someone wants to keep that secret locked away right in the back of the closet.
And when someone sets things in motion keep that secret, Mitch is the man hired to protect Gavin.
And now things really start to heat up. There is this current between Gavin and Mitch right from the start, no matter how much they choose to deny it. I could feel for both the men, Gavin as being out and not able to go after what he wants, Mitch who is "confused" about his feelings.
As things heat up on the stalker front, so do things with Gavin and Mitch - I mean, it would really put a sizzle in your steak! I am still fanning myself. And none of it felt over the top.
I loved how this wasn't just two gay men finding each other, or a gay-for-you scenario. The way Ms Leigh dealt with Mitch coming to term with his held-close-to-his-chest feelings of about his sexual orientation was compassionate and organic.
The suspense carries right through to the end, and the truth is only revealed to us when Ms Leigh wants it to be known.
I couldn't help but lose me heart to Gavin and Mitch, and I hope we get a bit more of them in later books.
Excerpt #1 : Gavin Meets Mitch
Before I can ask any more questions, there’s a knock and the door opens a crack. “Mr. Evans, Mr. Hale is here.”
“Send him in please, Donna.” Ross stands and adjusts his suit, straightening out the cuffs
and fixing his expensive tie until it lays just so.
I rake a hand over my hair, but it’s pointless. I’m lucky I bothered to shower this morning after my company left.
I’m sure I look like
shit—with the lack of
sleep and the constant stress I’m surprised I don’t look worse.
Good genes, I guess. I frown at the thought
of my father.
I can hear Donna outside. “Go right on in.”
The door opens and a man enters. No, not
just a man. A gorgeous man. Stunning, actually. For the second time in five
minutes, my jaw hangs open.
The man is a study in opposites. His hair,
swept back from his face and so dark it’s nearly black, is paired with bright slate grey eyes, a color I’ve never seen before. He looks rugged and
dangerous, as if he could kill a man with his bare hands. Yet he’s wearing a tailored and expensive charcoal
grey suit that showcases his body to perfection. He’s rough and he’s polished.
And I can’t stop staring.
“Mr. Hale, thank you so much for coming on such short notice.”
Ross has circled the table and is shaking
the man’s hand.
“Call me Mitch, please.”
Jesus, even his voice is hot. Deep and
silky, it’s as smooth as fine
whiskey.
“This is Gavin Walker,” Ross introduces me, stepping aside.
It takes both of them staring at me and an
uncomfortably long silence for me to realize I’m still gawking. Embarrassed, I snap my mouth shut.
“Sorry.” Jumping up from my
chair, I extend a hand. “Gavin Walker. Thanks
for coming.”
He clasps his hand around mine, large and
hot and coarse, and pumps it firmly. “Mitch Hale, good to meet you. Wish it were under better
circumstances.”
He smiles and I have the sudden urge to rub
myself all over his beautiful, hard body. Heat spreads up from our joined
hands, sending a flush of pleasure over my skin.
Mitch clears his throat and glances down
where I’m still clutching
his hand. Shit. I let go, flinching back in humiliation. I jam my hand into the
pocket of my jeans, fingering the smooth, heart-shaped stone I keep there.
“Let’s sit.” Ross directs Mitch to the conference table.
“Drink?”
Mitch holds up a hand. “I’m good.” I catch the
slightest twitch in one of Mitch’s intriguing eyes.
“Okay. Here is the file we have so far.” Ross pushes a folder across the table.
Mitch opens it, scanning the contents.
Waiting for him to read about the stalker that’s been harassing me is humiliating, yet it gives me a chance to
study the man further. I should resist staring, but I can’t. He’s too gorgeous to ignore.
I flick my gaze over to Ross, who is busy
returning emails on his laptop. Good. I don’t want Ross to catch me ogling the new guy. When my eyes land
back on Mitch, I have to hold in a groan.
This guy is trying to kill me.
As he flips through the pages in the file—photos, descriptions, police reports—the end of his very wet, very pink tongue
pokes out between his lips. Every once in a while, it sneaks back in so he can
pull that lush red bottom lip between his teeth, biting on it in concentration.
Jesus. As subtly as I can, I shift on the chair
to adjust the semi pressing against my pants.
More contradictions. That tongue, the biting
of the lip, both so playful and innocent against the serious image he projects
with the suit and the perfectly styled hair and the—I inhale deeply—hint of designer aftershave.
Suddenly, Mitch closes the folder and sits
up, folding his hands on top of it. I jerk away, sitting back in my chair
instead of leaning halfway over the table like a besotted teenage girl.
“This man is not to be taken lightly,” he cautions, his intelligent gaze traveling
back and forth between Ross’ and mine.
Ross closes his laptop, giving Mitch his
full attention. “We’re not taking it lightly. Gavin has security
with him at all times since the…” Ross glances at me,
“the incident in New York.”
“And before that?” Mitch asks. I stare
at the hard line of his jaw then drop my eyes down to the curve of his throat
where it disappears into the top of his crisp dress shirt. I pray that he doesn’t see the way my hands shake or the heat
prickling my face as lust washes over me.
“Before that we weren’t documenting anything we received, just throwing them away. They
were mostly letters, gifts…” Ross trails off.
“But no involvement by law enforcement?”
My eyes bounce back and forth between the
two men.
Ross sighs. “Not until the New York incident.” When Mitch scowls, a look that makes him
look even more dangerous and a hell of a lot sexier, Ross elaborates. “Do you know how many crazy fans are out
there? Hell, Adam gets over a hundred bizarre gifts and letters a week. That’s just the strange ones. Plus, keeping this
out of the media is important to the record label.”
Mitch nods. “I understand. I’m not judging. I’m just trying to get a feel for what I’ll be dealing with. That includes how long
law enforcement has been checking into this guy.”
“Not long,” I whisper,
surprised to hear myself speak. I’m used to being discussed as if I’m not in the room. It comes with the job—decisions made for you without your input.
Two sets of eyes focus on me and I feel my
cheeks blaze hot. That intense grey stare has me squirming, and this time it’s not from embarrassment. Another rush of
heat ripples down my spine. I run my hands through my hair to catch the beads
of sweat that have popped up on my temples.
Mitch opens his mouth to say something then
snaps it shut. He blinks a few times before speaking. “Tell me how this began, Gavin. What you’ve noticed personally.”
“Shit, how long do you have?” I scoff.
The corner of Mitch’s mouth quirks up. “I have time.” He puts two fingers into the collar of his shirt and tugs
gently.
The subtle motion brings images of Mitch
tearing off his clothes, sending another wave of sizzling need through me.
Nodding, I take a sip of water to cool down the desire inspired by Mitch’s proximity.
Ross’ cell phone rings, startling me. I fumble with the glass, nearly
spilling it.
“Damn. Sorry.”
This time, Mitch smiles. My eyes fixate on
that mouth as his lips part to reveal two rows of perfect teeth.
“I have to take this,” Ross confesses. He glances over. “You okay to do this without me?”
No. I’m not okay. You’re going to leave me in a room with one of the hottest
guys I’ve ever seen while I’m a nervous, blundering wreck.
That’s what I’m thinking. What I
say isn’t even close.
“Yeah. I’m good.”
Ross stares at Mitch. “I’ll be back to discuss the specifics of your contract.”
“No problem,” Mitch agrees.
Leaning back in his chair, he crosses one ankle over his knee.
Holy—
Now he’s given me a direct view of his crotch, hugged tight by those
tailored grey slacks. There’s a lot to look at.
Jesus. If what I’m seeing isn’t an illusion, he is hung. I don’t realize that I’m staring right at Mitch’s dick until his leg drops and he leans
forward, elbows on his knees.
“It’s okay to be
nervous.”
Blinking, I look up to see those deep
gunmetal eyes waiting patiently for me to respond.
“Ummmm, I’m not nervous.”
I am, but not for the reasons you think.
Mitch puts his large hands back up on the
table, his eye twitching again. “Do you mind if I get a drink?” He gestures towards the tray Donna set out.
“Not at all.”
“So,” he continues as he
removes his jacket, hangs it over his chair, and circles the table. “Tell me about the letters.”
Mitch picks up a mug, turning his back to me
to prepare his coffee. My mouth goes dry at the sight of his perfect, round ass
showcased by the tight grey fabric that clings to every curve.
“Gavin?”
I can’t do this here with him. Alone. With that ass, those eyes, and
the scent of whatever cologne he’s wearing. My brain won’t function properly while bombarded from all sides by filthy
sexual fantasies starring Mitch.
“I-I forgot. I have somewhere to be.”
Jumping up, I catch a surprised expression
on Mitch’s face right before
I bolt out the door.
After growing up in New
England, I currently live just outside Atlanta, GA.
I love the Red Sox and
hate the Yankees.
I love hot, sexy
romance novels, but hate long, drawn out misunderstandings as a plot line.
I love book series, but
hate cliffhangers.
I love alpha males, but
hate when they borderline on abusive.
Mostly? I love love
love chocolate.