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IF YOU CAN STAND THE HEAT, THERE’S A HOT SINGLE DAD IN THE KITCHEN.

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TITLE: Plus One
AUTHOR: Mae Wood
COVER DESIGN: Alyssa Garcia | Uplifting Designs

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If you can stand the heat, there’s a hot single dad in the kitchen.

At not-quite forty and with his son in his last year of high school, Bert’s going to be dining alone.

His restaurant’s wine rep has a few ideas on how he might sate all of his appetites.

He hasn’t been buying what she’s been selling, but she’s only in Memphis for a few months before moving back home to California.

Besides, it’s not like he’s going to fall in love for the first time in his life or anything crazy like that, right?

Plus One is a steamy standalone novel.

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PURCHASE LINKS

Free with Kindle Unlimited | 99c for a Limited Time

AMAZON US | AMAZON UK | AMAZON CA | AMAZON AU
AMAZON UNIVERSAL

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PRAISE FOR PLUS ONE

“I can go on and on about this book. The writing was so witty and all the food and wine references just made me want to hop on a plane and go taste some good southern food.”—After Dark Book Lovers

“…if you like Single Dads, good food, all the wine, and fitness coupled with stellar writing and extremely well-developed characters, then PLUS ONE IS THE BOOK FOR YOU. So, go ahead, one click it and enjoy.”—Y’all This Book

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BONUS SCENE

“Angostura bitters,” he said over his shoulder. “There was a shortage a few years a back, so I started making my own bitters.” I trailed him around the restaurant’s kitchen, a puppy in pursuit of a treat.

Ostensibly, I was here on a sales call, making my rounds at the downtown Memphis restaurants. Selling wine, taking orders, and moving on to the next restaurant or bar. But when Pig and Barley popped up on my iPad for today’s call list, I couldn’t help myself. Couldn’t help but dig around in my closet. No company-logo’ed polo shirt today.

Boobs.

And leg.

A hint of lace.

I knew what he’d order.

And knew I’d take it.

Curving his tall frame over a chopping board, another vintage concert T-shirt thin with age stretched across his powerful shoulders, he crushed a star anise with the flat blade of a knife. The meat of his left palm quickly smacking the heavy blade he held still with his right hand. And I jumped. He’d never spanked me, and I’d never wanted it. Never wanted to play that way until now.

“Do you like Absinthe? Or Sambuca?” he asked, the smell of soft black licorice wafting from the crushed pod. “Because I’m going for a stripped-down version with this infusion and will then play around with it to make a bitter I can use in cocktails.”

Flipping the knife over in his palm, he used the back to scrape the crushed pod into a glass jar filled with a clear liquid.

“Vodka? Everclear?” I guessed.

“No. Good ol’ Tennessee moonshine. Don’t ask where I got it.”

“So many, many good things in Tennessee.”

He wiped his hands and knife on a neatly folded white towel and placed the knife to the side of the cutting board, parallel and just so. His deliberate moves were instinctual when he sought out pleasure, whether from his food, his cocktails, or from me.

“So this is a sales call?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Drennan,” he said with a smile while he folded his arms across his chest, drawing out my name like I was a naughty child. The three birds on his forearm fluttered from the muscle movement, and my hand ached to touch his inked flesh. “Who else are you calling on today?”

“Flight and a few other places.”

“Tight schedule?” he asked.

“I could work you in,” I replied, taking a step toward him and walking my fingertips along the top of the shiny steel work surface, trying to be cool while the heat built inside of me. Fighting to keep my itchy fingers to myself.

“Oh, you’ll make room.”

“Here?” I whispered, looking into his chocolate and caramel eyes. Even though it was the two of us in the kitchen, the restaurant’s general manager was working in the broom closet of an office just a few feet away.

“Uhm, did I not hear you say hi to Patti on your way back here? And she’s interviewing a couple potential new servers,” he said, quickly flicking his wrist to glance at his heavy silver dive watch, “about now, I think.”

I ran through options, scenarios, my brain fizzing from the thought of sliding my skin against his. “Just how big is the back seat in your monster of an SUV?”

“It’s still got my bike in in from yesterday. But hold on,” he said.

He pulled the phone out of his back pocket and tapped on the screen. I stepped closer to him, sliding my hands to my waist and then up, pressing my breasts together. His eyes fell on my cleavage, and his Adam’s apple worked in appreciation, his lips softening with want while his jaw tightened with need.

“Man, don’t ask any questions. Just say that I can borrow a conference room. I’ll be there in three minutes.” One hand shoved the phone back into his jeans and the other grabbed one of mine, lacing our fingers together, and he pulled me through the kitchen and the restaurant and onto the street.

“Conference room?” I asked, my legs spinning to match his long stride and quick pace as he tugged me down the bustling sidewalk.

“Yeah, be cool, okay?”

A few blocks later he blew through a glass door into a simple lobby. The Brannon Company shone in bold brass letters behind the receptionist desk.

“Mr. Forsythe?” asked a thin brunette from behind her big bangs.

“Jenny, right? Trip said—“

“Yes, sir. We’ve got a conference room ready. Will anyone else be joining you?

He’s taking me to his friend’s office to fuck? At ten a.m. on a Monday?

“Just us,” he said, not loosening his grip on my hand.

Jenny’s eyes moved to me. Taking me in from head to the tips of my nude heels and I felt my boldness begin to slip. I turned to Bert, to gauge his reaction. Yeah. No shame. His eyes fixed on the elevator bank ahead of us. The temperature of our frantic walk over pressed beneath this cool facade.

With a nod at me, Jenny led the way to the conference room. Keeping up the charade that we were here on some sort of business, I sank into an overstuffed chair at the large oak table, my back to the wall of windows. I grabbed a notepad and pen from the table and began doodling.

“If you need anything, Mr. Forsythe, please call reception and ask for me.”

“Thanks, Jenny,” he said.

“Of course. Have a good meeting,” she replied. When the heavy door to the conference room clicked shut behind her, my laughter burst to the surface.

“You cool with this?” he asked, one eyebrow lifting in amusement, as he tugged his shirt over his head, exposing his lean body with Ganesh inked in black wrapping around his right side.

“Depends,” I answered, not looking up from my notes. “What did you have in mind?”

“What did you have in mind when you decided to wear that to my restaurant?”

“Wear what?” I said, tilting my head and slowly blinking my big blue eyes at him.

“Come on, Dren,” he begged, the exasperation at my little game eating away at his patience.

“That,” I said, using the pen to point to the hard ridge in his jeans. “I was planning on coming on that.”

“Were you now?” he said, the irritation vanished.

“Yes, in fact, here’s the agenda,” I said, tossing the notepad toward him where it landed on the table.

“Are you serious?” He blinked at me and I again looked away, enjoying playing coy for once.

“We’ve got like ten minutes tops before Trip breaks this up.”

“Well, I suggest we move right to the action items, then,” I said, pointing at the paper.

His eyes rolled to the ceiling before he snatched up the notepad. “This is a drawing of a dick.”

“Yeah, I know. The agenda’s really meaty,” I said, examining the pen I twirled between my fingers.

“Ten. Minutes,” he repeated, a solid tap on the notepad punctuating each word.

“Do I hear a motion from the floor? I bet they says things like that in here, don’t they?” I said, finally turning my attention to him.

“The only motion I want from you is your ass out of that chair.”

“All in favor?” I asked, scanning the empty room for a response.

“Christ,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his face and rounding the table toward me. “I’m in favor. Let’s get down to business.”

The chair spun and he leaned down in front of me, his hands dipping into my hair to bracket my head. “You want my dick?” he whispered in my ear, the scruff on his face abrading my cheek.

I nodded as best I could in response, my teeth tugging on my lip as I let loose a soft whimper of need.

My hands explored the muscles of his shoulders. My fingernails dug in, biting flesh, and my answer to his question escaping me in a slow hiss of desire. His belt and fly open, I leaned forward to shove his jeans and boxers over his hips, so I could get my hands on his bare ass. I loved the way the heels of my hands fit into the indentations at his hips while my fingers grasped firm muscle.

His hands shoved up my skirt, running his hands along the tops of my thighs with a friction that made me melt. Thumbs stroked in tandem at the hinge of my hips and I went to open for him, but was bound by the chair’s arms.

He pressed my hips into the chair. “Patience, patience.”

“Ten minutes,” I bit out.

“He’s not going to open the door,” he replied, his warm hands sliding between my exposed ass and the chair to scoop me up and place me on the cool tabletop. “No one is. We could have this room all day. But I want you now.”

His hands returned to reach underneath my skirt, and my panties were yanked down. I could feel soft pops as his impatient fingers shredded the lace. “Sorry,” he muttered into my neck.

“Only apologize if you stop,” I replied.

“Quick pause okay? Not a stop.” He backed up, fished a condom out of his wallet and returned to me suited up. Strong and hard and proud. I pulled my feet to rest on the table and dropped my knees open for him. Opened for all of the city of Memphis beyond the wall of windows that was behind him.

Shameless for him.

Ready for him.

Needy for him.

I reached for him and, with a push, he found me. His hands once again gripping my ass and lifting me, holding me close, as he continued to thrust from below. “Drennan, Drennan, Drennan.” I knew this chant, mumbled against my lips and neck. The simple incantation of my name so filled with need and promise. The words that reduced the world to me and him. To this moment.

Coolness the length of my back snapped me out of the trance. “The window?”

“You want that?” he asked, nuzzling his scruff along my jaw. “I’ll put it on the agenda for our next meeting. But I don’t trust any glass for how hard I’m going to pound into you.”

Then I heard it—a door, banging on its hinges. “You’re not going to get invited back,” I said.

“Like I give a fuck. Come back to me. Here. Now.” My fingers tugged at his hair, fusing his mouth with mine.

A deep dive and rock against my clit and I was gone again. So gone for this man.

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ALSO AVAILABLE IN THE PIG & BARLEY SERIES

RISKING RUIN

Risking Ruin

BORROWING TROUBLE

Borrowing Trouble

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mae Wood is a mommy, bookworm, and lawyer (in that order).

A while ago Mae decided that she needed to give up the fear that she couldn’t write “great literature” and write what she wants to read.

And she wants romance. And laughter.

She wants heroines who are brave. Brave enough to be themselves and brave enough to fall in love.

She wants men who are strong and kind.

Mae lives in the Southeastern United States.

AUTHOR LINKS

FACEBOOK | TWITTER | INSTAGRAM | WEBSITE | READER’S GROUP

Plus One_Full

BUY ON AMAZON

Death changes us all …

Without my husband, my world caved. The business we built together is a prison. Our home, once filled with laughter and passion, is a tomb for what was. I want to give it all away and find a new place to start over. But the needs inside me, long-hidden whispers, won’t leave me alone. What I crave, a newfound darkness to match the pain, is impossible to ignore.

When Infidelity offers me a chance for fulfillment and a companion with no strings, I grasp it with both hands.

My Master is hurting. He’s filled with agonies and releases them on my flesh. We push and pull, an Owner and his slave, and I am helpless at his feet. But he strengthens me, giving me the power to fight his demons and substitute for what he’s lost.

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love, shouldn’t want to be more than a replacement. But I did, and I do. We only have the agreement between us, but I want him to own me irrevocably. Forever, always, to keep me … 

Collared.

See what Aleatha Romig has to say about one of the newest installments in her Kindle World.

BUY ON AMAZON

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Writing professionally since 2008, LeTeisha Newton’s love of romance novels began long before it should have. After spending years sneaking reads from her grandmother’s stash, she finally decided to pen her own tales. As many will do during their youth, she bounced from fantasy, urban literature, mainstream, interracial, paranormal, heterosexual, and LGBT works until she finally rested in contemporary romance. 
LeTeisha is all about deep angst and angry heroes who take a bit more loving to smooth their rough edges. Love comes in many sizes, shapes, and colors, as well as with—or without—absolute beauty and fairy tale sweetness. She writes the darker tales because life is hard … but love is harder.

The book:

Which is #FREE July 30-31  ONLY!!

http://amzn.to/2uJOaAK

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Pelican Freak’s 5-star review:

Cover:

Editing/proofing:

Seems professional, only a few errors noticed.

Formatting:

Absolutely gorgeous! If only every book were this pretty.

Character development:

So much fun! I like Vanessa and her house- yes her house- is its own character, I think- immediately. All of the book b!tches are great, I related to them all.  The town itself is another character and I quickly fell in love with the small-town vibe. There are characters to loathe, characters to root for, and characters whose books I think I’ve already predicted – overall brilliant design all around, with impressive attention to detail.
Overall:

Wow. This book sucked me in fast and I immediately realized that putting it down resulted in serious separation anxiety. I missed it every second that I wasn’t in it. It was like a drug – I was trying to read it while walking around my neighborhood on errands, and while simultaneously talking to customers at work, for example. Hazardous!

This book has lots going on: there’s romance with heat. There’s new friendships with some really fun women -though I may be partial to the Book Bitches. There’s a bit of paranormal activity with some friendly ghosts that completely add to the charm of the town and every building in it. There’s history, and it’s completely real-feeling and fun and addictive – Conley should publish more Historicals, I’d read those all day. There’s also some modern-day mystery, which I’ll let you see for yourself… Definitely highly recommend this book.

I tend to predict everything, and I usually will not rate a book 5 stars unless it can manage to surprise me somewhere. However, this is a 5-star read, surprises or not. That said, there were a few little surprises /a few things that didn’t go exactly to my predictions.

I’ll be very impatiently waiting on the rest of this series and I strongly recommend giving this book a read. If you’ve never read Conley- do it. Start with this or Saving Charlie or Craze (which is free at the time of this posting).

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This is Book 1 in the Never Lose Sight Series and the DEBUT RELEASE by brand new author Leigh Robbins and you’d never know she hasn’t been at this for years.

Give her Facebook page a ‘Like’ and support an upcoming author!

https://www.facebook.com/LeighRobbinsAuthor/?fref=ts

The book:

http://amzn.to/2t9mvcN

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PelicanFreak’s 4-star review:

First of all, this book is very professionally presented and you’d never know it’s a debut release from a new author. The formatting is beautiful and the editing and proofing are really well done. Clearly a lot of work and love went into this book to give it a professional appearance.

If you want the short version:
Likeable. Lots of drama, fun to read. Good characters. Well-edited. Predictable but still addictive.

If you want the detailed version:
Editing/Proofing:
5 stars
Found only a couple minor typos, nothing that distracted from the reading experience.

Formatting:
5 stars
Beautiful!

Cover:
5 stars
I love that it’s not quite like every other romance cover out there. It’s pretty and still relevant.
(Also: The title is perfection! It describes the book simply in both metaphorical and literal senses.)

Continuity:
4 stars

Character design:
4 stars
Characters are fairly well done. Not always perfect continuity with the personalities but it’s Book 1 in a series and they’ve got room to grow. Still the reader gets at least the gist of who they are and a bit of what they’ve been through. Perceptive readers probably get a peek into what’s to come for the other characters too.

POV:
5 stars
The reader is treated to rotating POVs, first person. There’s never any confusion as to who is speaking, it’s done flawlessly.

The Story:

The book started out FULL of action, drama, regret and pain. It is a brilliantly tragic opening and sucked me right in. That’s about all of the military action there is, however the lives of the main characters are forever changed as a result of those moments so I’d still say it’s okay to deem this a military romance or military drama.

From the first few pages, I can easily predict how the whole book will play out, so I won’t give any originality or unpredictability points, but that’s 99% of media these days. What matters is that despite this, I wasn’t bored. In fact, I was hooked – I liked the characters and wanted to know all that I could about them. I love that baking and cooking are prevalent and the MCs all move to the South. These are all things I could relate to and just made it that much more dynamic and fun to follow, with little side adventures and food to dream about. 🙂

Some of the sex scenes… they’d start out with plenty of heat but inevitably there’d by a cheesy line or something that I just couldn’t quite get into. I did overall appreciate the sex scenes though, for not exactly being the same old that I usually find. Robbins manages to describe them a bit differently than everyone else, which is refreshing.

The last fifteen percent or so kind of dragged for me. After being so hooked and unable to put it down for the first seventy-plus percent, it took me a little effort to get through it. I probably could take or leave the last bit. But ultimately am really impressed that this is a debut novel, it seems Robbins is a natural and I hope she keeps writing. She’s made me a fan.

I’d give the story… somewhere between 3.5 and 4 stars for keeping me hooked, but lacking originality. Overall, I’d give the book as a whole 4 stars.

 

I don’t give out 5-star reviews freely, especially for romance because it’s so hard to find anything original in my experience.
 
That said, Anne Conley managed to get another one out of me, and for a #RomanticSuspense at that.
 
I highly recommend her Pierce Securities series. I’m behind on it, having just now read #4 and I couldn’t put it down.
 

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PelicanFreak’s 5-star review:
 
Short version:
I couldn’t put this book down, from start to finish. I tried to – really- but then I missed it, bad. I had to pick it right back up. It gripped me and wouldn’t let go. I’ve a terrible attention span and not much holds my attention at all these days, let alone sucks me in like that. Clearly Conley was put here to write.
Detailed version:
Cover:
Unoriginal in concept but gorgeous and professionally-graphiced.
Editing/Proofing:
Clearly professional. Very few errors noticed.
Formatting:
Again, professional and the book is gorgeous on the inside too. Clean, easy read.
Character development/design:
All of the characters in this series are so perfectly designed, that you’d think she’s basing them on real people. The continuity from one book to the next in personality and everything else flows flawlessly. It’s really easy to get really attached really quickly to the protagonists. As the series goes on, and I feel all attached to characters I got to know in earlier books, the later books have that much more because I get glimpses at my ‘old friends’ while making new ones. This makes me hate the antagonists that much more passionately and gets me that much more invested in the whole thing. It’s all completely brilliant.
POV:
Flawless. Third person, rotating voices. Never any question of what is who, or feeling unfinished when one wraps and another takes over.
Overall:
I find everything predictable; usually within a chapter or two, I already know how the whole book’s going to play out, maybe even future books. With Conley… well, she doesn’t do it like everyone else. She manages to NOT write the same old store everyone else has already written. She mixes it up. She also has me so engaged that I’m too busy greedily absorbing the words and turning the pages to worry about predictions.
I can feel her characters’ feelings, I can feel their love for each other.
I’m always left wanting more- but not in a cliffhanger way at all. Just more of the whole Pierce Securities world because it’s such a great place to be. Reading Conley truly provides entertainment and a brief escape from reality and is probably detrimental to my mental well being somehow. I cannot recommend this series enough.
FIVE STARS because that’s all the

The latest installment in Anne Conley’s Pierce Securities is almost upon us! Since I’m super stoked, as this is one of the rare romance series I’d completely recommend, I wanted to share the cover!!

Designed by LoveBooks Promotions, featuring photography by Jeffrey Todd, starring Stanley Fields… are you ready for this?

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Excerpt (rated PG-13 for language):

“What are you doing in here, Ginger?” His rough growl in her ear sent a shiver of goose bumps racing up her spine.  Deena Rae bristled at the Ginger comment, but squirmed to get out from under him.  It was no use.  She was stuck.  His grip tightened on her wrists, as his legs wrapped around hers to still them.

And his other hand roamed.

His breathing was ragged as his hand explored more than was necessary to make sure she wasn’t packing heat, which she was, but didn’t think they were in the right position for him to find it.

“You know what they say about curiosity and shit.”  She shrugged, going for flippant, even as her heart raced.  Problem was, she wasn’t really scared anymore.  She should have been, but Deena Rae couldn’t muster the fear she needed to fight back.

His hand was definitely doing more than looking for weapons, if the growing length at her backside was any indication.  Each piece of her lock-pick kit was tossed into the immaculate carpet by her head.  Serial killers were clean, she reminded herself, trying to gather the terror she knew she should be feeling.  Why wasn’t she feeling it?

“How did you get in?”  His breath was hot in her ear, and if she wasn’t mistaken, his lips brushed it.  She was on fire.  Thank God he wasn’t looking at her face.

A soft chuckle escaped her.  “Would you believe you can learn anything on Youtube?”

A rumble of accompanying laughter came from his chest, pressed against her back, but he raised himself and with very little effort, had her flipped under him.

It wasn’t like she was fighting Mr. Fine Ass, but she was a tall woman.  At five foot ten, she’d always wanted a man to handle her, like, well, like a man.  Rick sure as hell wasn’t up to the task.

But now she was face to face with him, she couldn’t really breathe.  And her arms were still pinned at her head.

His face was fucking gorgeous.  A small scar under his right eye.  Deep brown eyes the color of teak wood.  Full lips.  Chiseled cheekbones.  Dude could be a model.

One of his crazy eyebrows was quirked up, wrinkling his forehead slightly.  “Are you trying to come on to me?  If so, this is a bit out of the ordinary.”  He was relaxing his body on top of hers, even if he still held her wrists in a death grip above her head and had a massive growing bulge still pressing against her thigh.

“I’ve never been accused of being ordinary,” she breathed at him, wondering where the hell all the air in the room went to.  Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her breathing was hard and heavy.  She knew her breasts were practically in his face, but to his credit, he wasn’t looking.  But they were certainly pressing against his ever-so-hard chest.

His eyes flickered from her eyes to her lips, and his free hand twined through a tendril of her hair.  When they finally snapped back to her eyes, they were filled with resolve.

“This is bad timing, Ginger.  My life is a train-wreck right now, or I would give this a go.”  He smirked as he pressed his bulge into her thigh.  “But you really should just stick to your Tuesday Night Specials.”

Since he was relaxed, she whimpered a bit, pretending to pout while biting her bottom lip, watching his eyes snap back to her lips.  Using the distraction, she wound her legs around one of his, and rolled, effectively pinning him under her.

He let loose of her arms, and grabbed at her hips as she stood.

“Wow.  That’s cocky, Mr. Fine Ass.  But I hate the name Ginger, and train wrecks aren’t my style.”  She managed to get out of the door with a little dignity even though she was embarrassed to have gotten caught, and was ridiculously turned on.

But she’d managed to walk out of there with the upper hand, and that was what was important, right?

Anne Conley

Contemporary Romance Author

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www.anneconley.com

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Other books in the series on Amazon UK:  http://amzn.to/2osLpm1
Find a couple of her books at a special, low price here:

Contemporary Romance: Neighborly Complications

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Paranormal Romance: Falling for Heaven

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Blog:  www.anneconley.com

Welcome to Mystic, Texas, where the past stays alive in more ways than one.


Tiffany Masters is desperate for a fresh start after the loss of her husband. Landing in Mystic, she soon learns the town has as many secrets as she does. The local book club, The Book B!tches, gives her the courage to be herself without worrying about adult things, like bills, parenting, and supper. 

However, her new boss may be more than she can handle.

Nick takes pride in his business. Being the only bar owner in town has its challenges, the biggest being his new employee. Tiffany’s a fireball—sexy as hell, with a temper to match—and off-limits. She’s got kids; he’s been there, done that, didn’t care to get the t-shirt.

When their heated attraction sparks a spat, the sheriff gives them an ultimatum: settle their shit or go to jail. He’s got a crime to solve—a woman’s dead, Wren’s still missing, and there’s another possible victim.

Mystic may have a serial killer on the loose.

**This is not a standalone novel. It is recommended that Power of Love, Book B!tches #1 be read first.**

For a limited time only, all the books in this series are on sale for .99!!!


Every time she got pissed at Nick, she got horny for him, and that made no sense to her whatsoever.

“Bend over my desk.”

Tiffany spun around. “What? Why?” Even though it didn’t matter. She wanted whatever it was he had in mind. But the look on his face gave her pause. Maybe not. He looked really pissed.
Maybe he had the same damn reaction to her?

“I’m not sure, yet, Tiffany. I haven’t exactly decided what I want to do to you.” Nick gripped one hand into a fist and cracked his knuckles, but it wasn’t a move born of aggression. He was getting ready to use his hands, on her, and she was okay with that. His face was full of concentration, and the intensity shining from his gray, bottomless eyes bored straight into her insides and dived down into the depths of her pussy.

She was a mess, and he hadn’t even touched her yet.

“O-kay …” Tiffany whispered as she turned and did as he asked. A hiss of expelled air was the only discernable reaction.

“Close your eyes,” Nick demanded, and she obeyed without question. “Do you trust me?” His gravelly voice suddenly had an edge of uncertainty to it, much like the smile he’d displayed earlier. It was odd and threw her a little off balance.

But she answered with a firm “Yes.” Because she did. As mad as he made her, she loved the asshole. She could admit it to herself but no one else. She loved Nick Livingstone.

And she was sure he was about to do something to her no man would ever do again. He would touch her in some way that would pale in comparison to everyone else. Even Conrad.

Shit.

A soft cloth fell over her eyes, and Tiffany reached up to touch it. “Nope, baby girl. Keep your hands on the desk.” Tiffany opened her eyes to see Nick’s bandana—the one he kept in his pocket for a handkerchief—over her eyes like a blindfold.

Scenes from her BDSM books flew through her mind, and then it all made sense—Nick’s need for utter compliance and control, his anger when she didn’t do what he thought she should do for her own good, his protectiveness of her—as misguided as it was—his dominance in the bedroom.
Goose bumps broke out on her back.

“Is this a BDSM thing? Are you a Dominant?” Finally. Something was happening Tiffany sort of understood. Lord knows she had read tons of books about this.

A harsh laugh broke from his chest. “Fuck if I know, Tiff. I told you. You do this to me. Make me want to command your pleasure. And punish you when you don’t behave. Is that a Dom?” His fragmented sentences drew off into a rumble, and as he lowered himself over her back, she felt it radiate through her, vibrating her bones with his warmth.

She wanted to scream inside her head, Yes! But Doms care for their subs and fall in love with them. Even as the words formed in her mind, she knew it wouldn’t happen. He may take care of her, but he didn’t really care. He wasn’t in love with her.

But she managed a nod.

“Do you trust me? You still okay with this?”

Tiffany bit her lip, more to keep from screaming the word at him, and he pressed against her tightly until she answered with a whispered “Yes.”

“Good.”

Nick gripped her hips, tugging her this way and that. Tiffany couldn’t decide if he was straightening her, looking at her from different angles, or what. But when he lifted her skirt and let out that hiss again, she didn’t care; as long as this ended up in sex, she was totally cool with whatever he did. Anger and resolutions be damned.

His finger tickled her backside as it traced her thong, slipping underneath it and tugging on it before letting it go with a snap. Her turn to hiss. That stung.

“You don’t even know how sexy you are, do you?” His voice scared her in the most delicious way. It was still a rumble, bordering on a low roar. Like a fucking bear.

SMACK!

“Ow! Son of a bitch! That hurt!” His hands were rubbing the spot he’d just spanked, the fingers rubbing and digging into the flesh. Eventually, the stinging subsided, and Tiffany had to admit it was the shock of the slap that had scared her. Nothing actually hurt.

“Okay?” Nick’s soft voice soothed her and taunted her at the same time.

“Yes.” Tiffany sounded petulant and knew it as soon as the word left her mouth. For some reason, she wanted to apologize for her tone of voice, and wasn’t that just the shit?

SMACK!

Again with the rubbing and soothing, this time on her other ass cheek.

“What exactly am I being punished for?” The bratty tone was gone, and now she hated the fact she sounded so weak. The question came out like she was begging for something.

SMACK!


“You accepted a date with Matt the Douchebag.”

SMACK!

Another slap on her ass, and instead of rubbing it, he slapped the same spot again before soothing it with his massive hand. Her butt was getting warm, and damn if the wetness in her pussy had actually increased.

“You don’t actually like him, you’re just doing it to make me mad.” Another resounding SMACK! 

She pressed back into his hand as he stroked her. “To get back at me for something you still haven’t told me about.”

What the hell? Who knew she liked spankings so much?

SMACK!

Tiffany moaned long and loud that time. She couldn’t stop the sound from coming out of her mouth.

“Seriously?” Nick’s question would have been comical if she wasn’t so turned on. His hands on her stilled and then traced the edge of her thong again before dipping down below, into her drenched folds. “Fuck. Me.”
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