Red Hot Kisses: 3:AM Kisses 15 Read online

  Red Hot Kisses

  3:AM Kisses 15

  Addison Moore

  Hollis Thatcher Press, LTD.

  Edited by Paige Maroney Smith

  Cover Design: Gaffey Media

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  Copyright © 2017 by Addison Moore

  http://addisonmoorewrites.blogspot.com/

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to peoples either living or deceased is purely coincidental. Names, places, and characters are figments of the author’s imagination. The author holds all rights to this work. It is illegal to reproduce this novel without written expressed consent from the author herself.

  All Rights Reserved.

  This eBook is for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this eBook with another person, please purchase any additional copies for each reader. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  * * *

  Copyright © 2017 by Addison Moore

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Books by Addison Moore

  1. Hot and Bothered

  Rush

  2. Rush Hour

  Rush

  3. Good Knight Kisses

  Rush

  4. Trix or Treat

  Rush

  5. Climbing Mount Rushford

  Rush

  6. Red-Hot Romance

  Rush

  A Note from the Author

  Books by Addison Moore

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Addison Moore

  For up to the minute pre-order and new release alerts

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  *Be sure to subscribe to Addison’s mailing list for sneak peeks and updates on all upcoming releases!

  * * *

  Romance

  3:AM Kisses (3:AM Kisses 1)

  Winter Kisses (3:AM Kisses 2)

  Sugar Kisses (3:AM Kisses 3)

  Whiskey Kisses (3:AM Kisses 4)

  Rock Candy Kisses (3:AM Kisses 5)

  Velvet Kisses (3:AM Kisses 6)

  Wild Kisses (3:AM Kisses 7)

  Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses 8)

  Forbidden Kisses (3:AM Kisses 9)

  Dirty Kisses (3:AM Kisses 10)

  Stolen Kisses (3:AM Kisses 11)

  Lucky Kisses (3:AM Kisses 12)

  Tender Kisses (3:AM Kisses 13)

  Revenge Kisses (3:AM Kisses 14)

  Red Hot Kisses (3:AM Kisses 15)

  * * *

  Low Down & Dirty (Low Down & Dirty 1)

  Dirty Disaster (Low Down & Dirty 2)

  * * *

  Burning Through Gravity (Burning Through Gravity 1)

  A Thousand Starry Nights (Burning Through Gravity 2)

  Fire in an Amber Sky (Burning Through Gravity 3)

  * * *

  Beautiful Oblivion (Beautiful Oblivion 1)

  Beautiful Illusions (Beautiful Oblivion 2)

  Beautiful Elixir (Beautiful Oblivion 3)

  The Solitude of Passion

  * * *

  Someone to Love (Someone to Love 1)

  Someone Like You (Someone to Love 2)

  Someone For Me (Someone to Love 3)

  * * *

  Young Adult Romance

  Melt With You (A Totally ’80s Romance 1)

  Tainted Love (A Totally ’80s Romance 2)

  Hold Me Now (A Totally ’80s Romance 3)

  * * *

  Paranormal Romance

  (Celestra Book World in Order)

  * * *

  Ethereal (Celestra Series Book 1)

  Tremble (Celestra Series Book 2)

  Burn (Celestra Series Book 3)

  Wicked (Celestra Series Book 4)

  Vex (Celestra Series Book 5)

  Expel (Celestra Series Book 6)

  Toxic Part One (Celestra Series Book 7)

  Toxic Part Two (Celestra Series Book 8)

  Elysian (Celestra Series Book 9)

  Perfect Love (A Celestra Novella)

  * * *

  Ethereal Knights (Celestra Knights)

  Season of the Witch (A Celestra Companion)

  * * *

  Ephemeral (The Countenance Trilogy 1)

  Evanescent (The Countenance Trilogy 2)

  Entropy (The Countenance Trilogy 3)

  * * *

  The Countenance Trilogy Books 1-3

  Celestra Forever After (Celestra Forever After 1)

  The Dragon and the Rose (Celestra Forever After 2)

  The Serpentine Butterfly (Celestra Forever After 3)

  Crown of Ashes (Celestra Forever After 4)

  Throne of Fire (Celestra Forever After 5) Soon!

  Hot and Bothered

  Trixie

  “Rushford Knight is a hearty meal, and this girl is starved for a bite of that beefcake,” shouts a starry-eyed blonde with a Go Mustangs T-shirt tied in a knot at the base of her triple D knockers. Her lusty soliloquy elicits the giggles of the sorority hos surrounding her as they strut by in their matching six-inch Fork Me heels. I happen to recognize the lusty, busty ditz shouting the proclamation above the noise and the music. It’s Miranda Smirnoff—no relation to the vodka fortune, has always been a year ahead of me in school, thus the fact she’s a sophomore to my freshman at Whitney Briggs University. She was a special little gem at our old high school that everyone worshipped—a gem that put out on the regular. She’s essentially a skank, and, seeing that she’s at Briggs where skanks are a dollar a dozen, she’s now more common than a fruit fly.

  “Disgusting,” I snip as I lean toward Sunday, the beefcake in question’s sister. She’s a stunner, and it’s not just because she won the genetic lottery. Sunday has a beauty vlog that eats up her week and our nonexistent bathroom storage space with the truckload of cosmetics necessary to make her the web success she is today.

  Sunday and I are cellmates doing time together at Cutler Tower for a sentence of approximately four long years. As fate, or perhaps the collective efforts of our overprotective brothers would have it, we scored one of the few rooms in Cutler that comes furnished with the birth control loft beds. And since the aforementioned beds are entirely engineered of balsa wood and chewing gum from the coeds of yore, there’s no way either of us is getting any action in that thimble of a dorm. Not on those rickety beds anyway. The carpet came equipped with a series of mystery stains that resembled a sanguine bodily fluid, and that quickly ruled out any rug action for either of us as well. And the bathroom? It makes the restroom on a plane look like a cavernous shopping mall you could lose a small child in. Hey, they don’t call it Chastity Tower for nothing. My brothers smiled for a week once they were apprised of my assignment.

  Both Sunday and I are new to Whitney Briggs and all of its superfluous sexual cavorting, thus the trepidation we shared in showing up tonight at this thorny, horny frat house to begin with. Beta Kappa Phi is pumping with hard rock music so loud that it’s rattling the walls and windows. Not to mention the fact there’s enough cologne and perfume to ignite an asthmatic in just about anyone.

  The coeds continue to crowd Rush as each one offers a salacious smile, just begging to be his pick for the evening. Rushford Knight, Sunday’s older although not wiser brother, is a known sexual assailant who has the girls at WB lining up around the block just to have a quick bounce over his pogo stick.

  I can’t help but smirk. “Such a nice little cul
t your brother has going.”

  Sunday belts out a short-lived laugh as she tosses back her strawberry blonde hair. There’s a gleam in those lemon-colored eyes that suggests she knows it’s true. “It’s fake news and alternative facts, I tell you. And if you go around spreading rumors, I’ll tell everyone your formal name is Beatrix.”

  “Ha!” I bark out a laugh at the moniker-based threat. I’d shout it from the rooftop myself if I thought anyone really cared. But Rush? I don’t have to start rumors. We both know his reputation is wrecked on all seven continents. “Please, that boy has a female following that spans three state lines, and you know it. Hate to break it to you, princess, but your big bro has become an inadvertent clap-trap around these parts.” Not to mention the raging malignant narcissism that takes over his body whenever he offers those bedroom eyes and crooked smile your way. Sure, Rush has a face that every deity in the universe would gladly bow down to, but that boy’s reputation precedes him in every single demented dimension and dominion.

  I spot my own big brothers from across the room and give a wild wave. Rex is older than me by four years, and he happens to be tonight’s star quarterback for the Whitney Briggs Mustangs.

  Knox, my twin, older by a few minutes, is my doppelganger in male skin, same inky black hair, same marbled violet-blue eyes. He was tonight’s star linebacker that brought home the win, so the entire school—read the entire female population—is exuberant to be in his presence. But as it stands, both of my big bros are taken.

  Sunday leans in as we spot them headed this way. “Is it ever not weird?”

  I frown as I look directly at the weirdness itself. Rex happens to be madly in love and dating our new stepsister, Scarlett. And, at the moment, she has her arms lassoed around his waist, letting the masses know that the school’s star quarterback is very much taken.

  “Quasi-incest is never not weird.” I shake my head just as Knox and his girlfriend, Harper, get to me first. I offer my twin a giant hug, happy to note that he’s showered and dressed in clean dry clothes, absolving himself of the sweat attack he had on the field. “Well done. Looks like it’s official—you’re Whitney Briggs’ favorite mascot.”

  “Very funny,” Harper snarks, stealing a hug of her own. Harper Shelton is one of those girls whose beauty isn’t even at a human level. I’m not sure what my brother did to the universe to get someone like her to even look twice his way, but lucky for him it worked heavily in his favor. Actually, my brother didn’t have to do a thing. He’s gorgeous and sweet and has a heart of solid gold. Harper and her beauty queen looks are simply lucky he chose her.

  “She’s just up to her old Trixies.” Knox offers a sly wink at the play on my name.

  “Hey, have you guys seen my sis?” Harper hikes up on her tiptoes trying to scan the crowd.

  “Harley?” Sunday hikes up on her tiptoes as well and joins the search. “She’s here somewhere with Serena.”

  Serena is Sunday’s cousin, who also happens to be Harley’s new roommate. Serena was a Barnes’ girl—as in the all-girls school down the road, but she quickly came to her senses before landing a single stuffed animal in her dorm and hightailed her not-so-innocent self to this testosterone driven side of town. I can’t say I blame her. WB beats Boring Barnes any day of the coital week.

  “Who are we looking for?” Rex comes up with that killer grin of his, and I wrap my arms around him tight.

  “You did great! I’m so super proud of you!” I squeal as I offer up a bionic squeeze.

  “Hey”—Knox pulls me back—“how come he’s great and I’m the mascot?”

  “Because I know how your mind works.” I glance to Harper. “Trust me, he’s mascot material.”

  Scarlett breaks up the party and offers up a hug of her own. Scarlett Kent, my recent stepsibling acquisition, is a redheaded beauty with precision cut features and a presence that commands attention wherever she goes. Her father married my mother a while back, and she and her siblings have been a permanent fixture in our lives ever since. And have I mentioned she’s just that nice? I guess I can’t fault my brother for falling for his legal sis. Yes, it’s weird, and definitely gross, and seeing how perfect the two of them are together, it was as unavoidable as gravity.

  Sunday bounces in her shoes. “Speaking of great big brothers—here comes mine! He’s off-limits by the way.” She says that last part while smacking me over the arm.

  Both Rex and Knox bark out a laugh at the thought.

  “She’s right.” Rex sobers up real quick and pegs me with a look that says keep away or grab a shovel and dig your own grave.

  Knox shakes his head. “Like that would ever happen. You’re my baby sister. Rush knows better than to even look at you crooked.” He leans in with that smug look I’ve never appreciated from him. “Every dude on campus knows better than to look at you crooked.”

  He pulls Harper in, and she wrinkles her nose. “Besides, he’s too much man for a girl like you.” She fans herself as if the same were true for her. “Heck, he’s too much man for every girl in this school combined. Rush should come with a warning sign on his forehead.”

  Our little circle erupts in laughter. Too much man, my ass. But then, that is what his thirsty ego would want the masses to believe, isn’t it? As if. Rush Knight is too much of a man tramp for me to ever look at twice.

  Knox sobers up right along with Rex. “Trixie’s a good girl. She stays out of trouble.” He gives my shoulder a tweak, and I scowl at him. He so knows how much I hate it when he talks about me as if I weren’t in the room. “She’s outright boring when you get down to brass tacks.” He gives a little wink, and I avert my gaze.

  Scarlett wipes a tear from her eye from laughing too hard. “Trixie doesn’t want a player. Trixie doesn’t need a player.” The emphasis in her voice cites her incessant need to treat me like a six-year-old. Scarlett doesn’t have a little sister, so technically, I win. Or more accurately, lose. I scowl over at her redheaded eminence. She’s not the only one who can toss around an emphasis.

  “Speaking of the man of the hour!” Sunday’s face lights up like a Christmas tree as she lunges behind me to tackle the manwhore-player of a clap-trap that seems to have the entire universe convinced he’s not the one for me.

  He’s not, but that’s beside the point.

  I abhor anyone treating me like a child by way of telling me what I can and cannot do—or in this case who. All my life I’ve lived in the shadow of my brothers’ wings. They were great at pretty much any and everything they undertook, racking up the trophies by the dozens. By the time they each graduated from high school, my father devoted an entire wing of the house in honor of those gilded statues, framed jerseys, and dirt encrusted footballs that paved the way to victory. I myself am a jack-of-all-trades, master of none, unless, of course, you count my high score on Candy Crush—where I am killing it by the way—or my affinity to catalog my dining experiences with copious amounts of off-centered pictures before uploading them for the world to see. I guess you could say I’m not particularly motivated or focused on what I should be doing in life. My brothers, however, discovered at an early age that they had a panache for driving an inflated pigskin down a field. And their propulsion to stardom has always made me feel about as important as a comma.

  Rush looks up at me with those honey brown eyes, those heavy lids, and scruffy stubble peppered over his cheeks that make my fingers twitch to touch it.

  “What’s up?” He offers that signature crooked grin my way, and much to my disdain, my insides squeeze tight, my face flushes with heat. And, oh my God, is he openly ogling me?

  Knox smacks me on the shoulder from behind, and I fall right out of that clap-trap trance I was stuck in.

  I turn and give him an approving nod. Knox and I are closer than your average brother and sister. Don’t get me wrong, I love Rex to pieces, but Knox and I have been bonding on an amniotic level since conception. He knows me better than I know myself, and most of the time we don’t need mere
words to communicate—an attribute that Rex has always found creepy, and rightfully so since growing up more than half of those unspoken conversations were about him. When our parents divorced, Rex chose my mother’s side, and Knox and I wisely stuck it out with our poor father. And even though we chose opposite family lines in the sand to plant our feet, it didn’t stop Rex from stepping up to help parent us once our mother went away to the big house for a nine-month stretch.

  My skin begins to crawl, and suddenly the room feels far too tiny for it to ever be safe with this many bodies swelling inside it. My eyes twitch to the mouth of the exit and admire the navy glow of evening from outside.

  Seth comes up and offers Rush a hearty slap on the back, nearly throwing him off-balance, and I can’t help but laugh. I’d steal just about any opportunity to laugh at Rush. Seth is Sunday’s soon-to-be brother-in-law or something of that nature. Her brother, Nolan, is marrying Seth’s sister, Misty. Sunday has regaled me endlessly about how the two of them had this horrible breakup, only to find true love again years later, and now they’re just months away from officially hitching themselves to one another until death do they part. Or at least until one of them gets thrown in the slammer and then decides to nuke the family once she’s set free. That’s the only pattern of marital life I’m familiar with.

  “Hey—I have an idea,” I lean in and whisper to Sunday while Seth, Rush, and my brothers replay the game quarter by quarter. “Maybe you can hook up with Seth? You know, dating legal siblings is all the rage. Just ask Scarlett.”