Saturday, May 2, 2015

The Confession (The Body Works Trilogy, #3) by Sierra Kincade

Time has done nothing to quell Anna’s need for Alec. She knows that she did the right thing walking away; the constant media attention that Alec’s been getting for testifying against Maxim Stein and Force Enterprises is evidence enough of that. But no matter how many times she warns herself that Alec is dangerous, she just can’t stay away—even after her connection to him once again threatens her life…

Alec knows the evidence he has against Max could stop him from hurting anyone ever again. But when it’s revealed that Alec stands to inherit everything from Max’s loss, his testimony is called into question—and Max could walk free putting Anna in harms’ ways once again. Now he’s beginning to wonder if any of this is even worth it—and if he and Anna will ever have a chance at true happiness…

3 Concluding Stars

The Confession is the last book in The Body Works Trilogy. The books must be read in order.
The Confession begins two and half months after where The Distraction left off. Anna and Alec still love each other, but they are not together anymore.  Alec doesn’t want Anna used against him because of his involvement with Maxim.

Why didn’t you try to change my mind after that night on the bridge?

For the same reason you ended it in the first place. Because I’m the worst thing that’s ever happened to you.

So sad. I feel like Anna and Alec faced so much in the first two books and they are still battling to be with each other. It’s never a dull moment in their relationship.

Anna is distraught and doesn’t know what to do with herself. She isn’t eating and she’s still hopelessly in love with Alec. All she can think of is Alec, but she tries very hard to move forward.  If only her heart would let her.

Alec feels guilty for all the things he has put Anna through, even though his actions were indirect, but it still hurts him. He pushes Anna away and even **GASP** enters a new relationship with Janelle. I didn’t see that coming and I was okay with it. I wanted this mild tension. I wanted to see why Alec is acting the way he’s acting. I liked reading him pushing Anna away.

There was a sadness in him I couldn’t touch, and it worried a hole right through the middle of my chest.

During all of that. Alec is preparing for his testimony against Maxim Steim, which adds a whole slew of drama. Max is well connected and he isn’t going to make it easy on Alec. Max doesn’t want Alec to testify and Max will do ANYTHING to stop Alec.

All of this pushes and tests Alec and Anna’ s relationship.

I was his anchor, and he was mine.

I loved Alec Flynn. And nothing about that felt wrong

Anna and Alec are desperate to find anything that can help Max go to prison for good. They work together in finding Jessica Rowe.  As they work together the sexual tension is apparent and it’s hard to ignore the lingering feelings.

Tell yourself whatever you need to… That you don’t need me. That I’m not yours. But don’t make the mistake of believing it. Slow or not, this ends in the same place with you and me.

Every time I touch you, it shakes me. Every touch, even when it seems meaningless.

There’s a good amount of build-up and anticipation. People are after Anna, Anna still loves Alec, Alec continues to push Anna away and Max is still the crazy villain. The ending is very climatic and a lot happens. It’s an explosive ending and it will leave you feeling breathless and satisfied.

If you are a fan of the series, you will be happy with the conclusion.

An Arc was provided

Excerpt from The Distraction
Alec laid me on the bed, kissing me in a long, tender way that pulled at my heart.
“Don’t move,” he whispered. He disappeared into the shadows and I rose to my elbows, brows creased in concern when I realized he’d gone into the closet. Surely he wasn’t there to get the rope. When I’d said I wanted to try again I’d meant I needed him, not that I was ready to be tied up.

He returned with two silk neckties—things I’d seen him wear when we first met. A lump formed in my throat as he sat on the edge of the bed, holding them in his fist.
“Alec, I don’t want to ruin any of your fantasies tonight.”

His thumb whispered across my cheekbone.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he said. “I don’t have a fantasy where you’re afraid.”
His words eased my mind but not my body; I still shivered when the tip of one of the neckties tickled my belly.

“Stay with me a little longer,” he said. “I swear, I won’t hurt you.”
I nodded, knowing that he didn’t mean physically, but mentally. Still anxious, I laid back down.
“I did this wrong before.” His voice was soft and low, and wrapped around me like a warm blanket. “Let me try to fix it. If it’s too intense, just say the word.”

I considered this. “Okay.”

The silk slid up my shoulders.

“I should have asked for your trust first,” he said.

Goosebumps rose on the side of my neck as the tie passed lightly over it.

“You have it,” I said.

He trailed the material up the side of my cheek, and then slowly covered my eyes. As he reached behind my head to tie it, his lips found mine, and he kissed me for a long time, until the nerves scattered and in their place was something more demanding.

He drew back.

“I should have told you that I’ll bring you back from anywhere I take you. I won’t leave you, and I won’t let you go.”

I gasped as he lifted my left wrist. He massaged the tender skin at the base of my palm, then kissed it. His tongue flicked over the red marks and I jerked, hypersensitive to his caress.
I concentrated on my breath, but was unable to feel Bobby’s restraints binding me as the tie slipped around my forearm. I waited for him to lift my wrist over my head to fasten it to the bed frame, but he did not. As I felt through the darkness, I found that he’d tied the other side to his own arm, the knot loose enough to turn or slip free if necessary.

His fingers wove through mine, feeling their way over the pads of my fingers. When our hands clasped, I shuddered, feeling somehow more joined to him than I did with him inside me.
“Alec,” I whispered. My senses were more acute with the wrap around my eyes. I could hear every compression in the mattress as he moved, feel the heat of his body as he adjusted his position to sit beside me. Desire throbbed low in my belly. I became desperate to know where he would touch me next.
“I should have told you I love you, Anna,” he murmured. “Because I do. I love you so much it hurts.”
I stilled.

“I can feel you inside me.” He moved our clasped hands over his heart, squeezing tightly. “When you’re in pain, I can’t breathe. And when you’re scared, I want to kill the man who did it, even if that’s me.”
What he said slayed me. I wanted to take off the blindfold, see his eyes, but I didn’t need to. The truth was right there in his touch.

“Forgive me,” he said.

I couldn’t speak, my throat was so tight. Instead I nodded, and he rested his forehead on my shoulder. He kissed my chest, right above my heart. And then my shoulder, and then higher—at the base of my neck.
I siphoned in a quick breath. The softest touch there was enough to ignite my senses.
“Is this okay?” he whispered.


            He lightly pressed his lips just behind my ear and it felt like lightning zapping straight into my core. My back bowed, and my free hand squeezed the comforter. He shifted positions, and his tongue swirled just below my collarbone. The cool air did nothing to ease the heat rising inside of me. I began to pant, turning feverish as he held back what I needed. Feather-soft, his closed lips brushed over my shoulder, a brief whisper only. I quaked beneath him. My back dropped down hard enough to make the mattress bounce.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

He moved our joined hands, twisting his wrist so that my palm rested against the back of his hand. With our fingers overlapped, he drew a slow circle around my other breast. I pressed down, urging him to touch me more firmly, but he withheld.

“Watching you,” he said.

My cheeks flushed. “Do you like that?”

He guided our hands lower, and switched positions again, so that his hand was behind mine. When we reached his jeans, he pressed my hand over him, so that I could feel his answer.

His groaned as I reached for the button at the top of his fly.

“Not yet,” he said tightly. “Just let me touch you for a while.”

What happened next was like nothing I’d ever experienced. He felt me, every inch of me. With his lips. His tongue. His fingertips, and sometimes mine. Each kiss took me higher, drew me tighter. Time ceased to exist. All thoughts vanished. There was only my body, trembling from the inside out, throbbing with a need so powerful tears soaked the blindfold to my temples.

Sierra Kincade lives in the Midwest with her husband and son. When she’s not writing naughty books, she loves eating chocolate cupcakes, binge-watching cable series, and singing loudly in the car. She wholeheartedly believes that love stories are real, and you should never choose a partner who doesn't make you laugh.

A few of Sierra’s favorite things:

Bad boys with dirty mouths – English Breakfast tea with two packets of Sugar in the Raw – any movie or show with a choreographed dance routine – cinnamon toast – kids who say funny things – friends who raid her pantry without asking – bootleg jeans – making lists – old Garth Brooks songs – and of course, massages.
Twitter: @SierraKincade

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