Title: My Perfect Remix
Author: Swati M.H.
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: September 30, 2021
He was my best friend.
The fiercely protective boy who always caught me when I fell.
Until I moved away.
Now, ten years later, Logan Miller is a gorgeous, Grammy-winning DJ and a dedicated single dad—and hotter than any hit on the Billboards!
When our paths cross again, fantasies of him turn into reality.
I moved back to Austin to build a life outside the safety net of my wonderful, albeit overbearing, Indian family. Preferring the company of my old dog, my online games, and reruns of Marvel movies, I’m nowhere close to the type of woman who can handle a public life. The type of woman who’d be best suited for Logan Miller.
But when neither of us can control the gravitational pull of the other, we give in.
In limos, on mountains, on rooftops, in airplanes…
We create the perfect remix of a song written just for us.
But just when the beat of our hearts seem perfectly matched, perfectly in sync, his past threatens to shake the foundation he’s built so carefully. The only thing we can do is rely on the one thing that’s bonded us together—our love.
But will that be enough?
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Logan’s eyes flash with the anger I saw earlier, and he does a quick survey of my entire body before meeting my gaze again. I wonder if he likes what he sees, but then I quickly remember that he’s been with women a hundred times hotter than me. “Is there a reason you didn’t come to Club Vex?”
I swallow, leaning back against the door, begging my knees not to wobble. “We were . . .. I was having fun here.”
Logan takes a step closer, eliminating the space between us and any chance of me escaping. “Yeah, I got that based on the slime that had his hands on you not five minutes ago.” His breath fans my face and my body reacts, arching toward him. What the heck, stupid body?
“Why does that bother you, Lo?” I summon any boldness I can find inside of me to meet him head-on. “Friends let friends flirt with strangers at bars.”
His hands stretch out and capture my hips, his fingers pressing firmly at my sides, creating a warm current inside my core. His heavy bulge rests unabashedly on my belly. “Well, I guess we’re not friends then, Batgirl.”
My breath snags on an exhale. The way his hands are holding me steady right now, they’re both my life raft and the anvil pulling me under. “Then what are we, Logan?”
He doesn’t respond. Instead, his stormy eyes bore into mine, mixing with equal parts of the same emotions I have swirling inside me–hesitation, vulnerability, and lust. He licks his lips and watches as I follow the movement. “Are you?”
My eyebrows crease. “Am I what?”
Before I can even come to terms with what I’m doing, my hands lift, as if possessed by someone else. I push back the hood from his head before digging my fingers into his soft brown hair. With my head tipped up, I hold his gaze. I’m tired of fighting it, tired of denying it. “Yes.”
And just like that, his mouth is on mine, seizing the last of my breath. His hands slide down my hips and over my ass before resting on my bare thighs. A pool of heat gathers between my legs and I moan, bending into him. My nipples pebble against my bra as my body asks for more. His tongue finds mine, and I relish the sweetness I’ve been craving ever since I first tasted it. He squeezes the backs of my thighs and I feel his chest pound against mine.
The sounds of our lips and moans fill the room, spurring my arousal. I feel needy and heavy, and I’m shamelessly writhing under his touch. He pulls back slightly, capturing my bottom lip between his teeth, pulling and biting before deepening our kiss again.
Cupping his cheeks between my hands, I open my eyes, watching as his lips work over mine. It’s as if I need to see him devour me to believe it’s actually happening. As if he can feel my gaze on him, he opens his, too. And now we’re kissing–like freaks–with our eyes open.
It’s always been this way, hasn’t it, I wonder. Our eyes have always said everything our words never could.
His hand travels up, under my dress, lighting a fire over my skin. His eyes search mine for permission, and at the arch of my hips and the thumb I tenderly swipe over his cheek, he seems to have the approval he’s looking for. His lips unlock from mine before he finds my neck, licking, sucking, biting. “Baby . . .” he rasps.
It’s sensation overload as his scruff slides over my neck and his hand finds the hem of my panties. Pushing aside the thin fabric, his fingers trace up and down my slick opening, and I gasp into his touch.
“This,” he whispers, traveling over my wet seam again and again. “This is for me.” His other hand comes to my face, curving over the back of my neck, as his thumb brushes my lips. I pull his thumb into my mouth, sucking gently, and he hisses. His light blue eyes become pools of obsidian as he watches his thumb disappear into my mouth. When I let his thumb go, he slides it over my lips again. “These lips, this body, you . . .” he inhales as if surprised by his own admission, “all mine.”
I prefer to call myself a storyteller rather than an author. I’m a mom to two beautiful little girls and a wife to an incredibly supportive husband. My days start with caffeine and sometimes end with a glass (or three) of wine.
I’m a Texas raised Indian American currently living in the Bay Area. With a degree in Computer Science and an MBA, I’ve had a successful career building software products but writing is both my hobby and my passion.
For me, writing and reading are an escape from real life. I love meeting and creating characters who I’d love to take out for a cup of coffee or a glass of wine. My goal as a storyteller is to distract my readers from their daily grind with stories about everyday couples finding and fighting for incredible love with the help of a little luck.