Tuesday, October 31, 2017

REVIEW/RELEASE: Spirited Away by Mary Billiter

Series: A Resort Romances Novel
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
 Release Date: October 31, 2017

~Blurb~

What happens when the legend of the old west becomes the new reality? In Mary Billiter’s fun novel of investigating the unknown and navigating love, a drop-dead sexy cop and a fiery redhead are linked by a mysterious haunting and the unsolved crime of passion behind it all.

When Reese Pemberton relocates from the Golden State to the Cowboy State for a corporate promotion, she discovers a different state of mind. From the hustle and bustle mayhem of the Bay Area to the slow and easy meanderings of Wyoming, Reese welcomes the change in pace as the hotel’s new general manager. However, she shuts the door on the notion that her hotel is haunted.

But when a series of mishaps introduces the fiery redhead to the hotel’s legendary cowboy ghost, she begins to question the events surrounding his demise.

Reese and Cheyenne police detective Cody Pring join forces to put to rest the spirit that haunts the hotel. In the process, they discover long-buried secrets. Can the two solve a decades-old mystery or are some things better left with the dead?

~Book Review~

4.25 Stars

Reese Pemberton, 29, is the new general manager of the Historic Wyoming Point Resort in Cheyenne, Wyoming. In addition to introductions to her staff and guests, she also stumbles into a hot cop and a historic mystery.  Meanwhile, Detective Cody Pring, 29, just wants a quiet Halloween weekend since he and his partner are on call. 🎃

Cody won me over right away. He hates the smell of essentials oils and is a bit of a germophobe when it comes to public bathrooms. That’s a man after my own heart. Plus the “ass gaskets” line was funny.  There’s some humorous narration in this tale told via Cody and Reese’s alternating first person POV. Cody was a swoonworthy good guy and definitely a catch.
“I wanted to be that guy. That guy who did the right thing and was man enough to let down his guard so a beautiful woman like this felt safe and secure to open herself to me.”
Aside from Reese’s moods being a little temperamental towards Cody in the beginning (of course they did get off on the wrong foot), I liked her as a strong, independent, and resourceful heroine.  I think they were developed well, though developed separately for much of the first half. As it was, it seemed like they made a quick relationship jump at one point. But their hook-ups were hot so no complaints there.
“She had a restful, dreamy look about her that craved naked escapism, and I wasn’t about to disappoint.”
Cody and Reese made a good pair; I just wish they would have done a little sleuthing together. None the less, the mystery angle kept me turning pages even as I put the pieces together. The historic elements blended well into the setting and the mystery which gradually unravels over the course of the tale. 

I appreciated the incorporation of multicultural characters. You just don’t get that often enough in the current romance market. I also appreciated how the historical background was integrated to give more depth to the ghost story and how motivations and attitudes were explained to understand the characters involved but not excused in present time.
“‘…lower your Confederate flag and remove your swastika. Ignorant racists like you lost both wars, and no one likes to listen to losers.’”
That line was just awesome!

I’ll admit I’m still mulling over the “ghost story,” still sorting through my feelings towards those characters. It certainly gives you something to think about. I look forward to other reader’s impressions. 

There’s a little paranormal element to this contemporary romantic suspense. 👻 I’m generally not a PNR reader, but I am a sucker for holiday romances and Halloween just happens to be my favorite holiday. All in all, I enjoyed this haunted hotel romance a lot, and while it’s certainly perfect for the season, it can be enjoyed any time of the year….maybe even with a tube of chips and a bag of pb candy! ;-) 

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

~Also Available~
Do Not Disturb & Escape Clause 
are free in Kindle Unlimited
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU


Mary Billiter is a weekly newspaper columnist and fiction author. She also has novels published under the pen name, “Pumpkin Spice.”

Mary resides in the Cowboy State with her unabashedly bald husband, her four amazing children, two fantastic step-kids, and their runaway dog. She does her best writing (in her head) on her daily runs in wild, romantic, beautiful Wyoming.

Thursday, October 26, 2017

COVER REVEAL: Tamed by Christmas by Sidney Valentine

Genre: Aussie Cowboy Romance
Release Date: November 21, 2017

~Blurb~

An Aussie cowboy, his feisty ex, and an unprecedented storm. Jett Wayne’s Christmas becomes complicated.

When Paris loses her job days before Christmas, her world crumbles. She returns to her parents’ home in outback Australia where she plans on eating enough food to fall into a coma and sleep straight until New Year’s. But when she unwittingly bumps into her ex on her way home, old feelings awaken.

Picking up Paris from the airport isn’t on Jett Wayne’s to-do list. Neither is dealing with their history or her cranky mood. Shit happens, like his one mistake that drove them apart. When he sees her again, he remembers the vulnerable girl from his hometown who rode horses bareback, who never backed down from an argument, and who stole his love.

When they find themselves stranded during an unprecedented storm, they’re faced with explosive emotions, secrets, and uncontrollable desires. Will Jett gamble on a second chance before Paris leaves him for good this time?

Cover Designer: Claire Smith
  PREORDER NOW FOR 99c 

Sidney Valentine is an Aussie girl who loves everything about traveling. She lives in Sydney, Australia with her husband and spends her time exploring the wild outdoors. But she always carries with her a writing pad in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. While she works in marketing during the day, she never stops writing her romance stories set in Australia as a way to rejuvenate from the bustle of the real world. She is often found at local coffee shops with her laptop, writing about people falling in love.


Monday, October 23, 2017

RELEASE BLITZ: Missing From Me by Jayne Frost


Series: Sixth Street Bands #3

~Blurb~

SEAN
Four years ago I made an unforgivable mistake. And Anna was the price. I thought I’d forget her. Thought I’d move on. But who was I kidding? No amount of drumming could drown out my love for her.

When I see here again, backstage after one of our shows, it's clear: Anna's mine. She’ll always be mine. 

One mistake. Four years of regret. Is there such thing as a second chance?

ANNA
When Sean Hudson walked out of my life, he shattered me. Broke me in untold ways. And when I saw him again, I did the only thing I could: I ran. 

Sean is the past. And I can't survive his brand of hurt ever again.
~Book Review~

DNF

I’ve adored the two previous titles in this series. Sadly, this one was a letdown. While the other books ascended above and beyond the rock star romance subgenre, offering original, engaging, heartfelt, but still sweet and sexy tales with swoonworthy heroes, this one really didn’t feel like it fit into the tone of the series.  Right off the bat, it’s angsty, at places depressing, and utilizes rock star themes done so many times over, unromantic tropes, and double standards.

Specifically, I was really disappointed in the OW drama & sex scene references, the first encounter basically being cheating. This turned me off from the start and made it so hard to connect with Sean, unlike Cameron and Christian who came before him in the series and were A-mazing guys. OMG, even the snippets of them in this one showed that they were still such sweeties, asking their fan girls to not touch them and only having eyes for their heroines.  That alone was enough to make me want to put down this book and pick up theirs again. Cameron and Christian were true book boyfriends; Sean was a douche. 

In the beginning, I found Sean an egotistical, self-centered, misogynist jerk.  The fact alone that he asserted that Anna had rejected him when she wasn’t the one to end the relationship and only chose to stay behind because she was invested in law school made me want to kick him in the balls. And when he rolled off with inner thoughts like “I’d never moved on” after he clearly slept with many other woman I wanted to roll my eyes. Saying he thought of her when he was with these other women just made it skeevier. I really felt that Anna deserved better. No girl should have to sacrifice her career goals and get stuck with a guy whose other women are repeatedly going to be in her face. 

Which brings me to the problems I had with the romance. Half way through the story and I still didn’t have a sense of a romantic connection between these two. There was a lot of angst and depressing family situations. There was sorting out heartbreaking mistakes and having sex again, but that’s not romance. I think if the opening chapters would have focused on Sean and Anna in their happier times so readers could see why they were it for each other instead of Sean’s sexual indiscretions, and if Sean wouldn’t have become a manwhore, the romantic angle would have been better developed.
I officially threw in the towel at 54% when more signs of OW drama/misunderstanding were on the horizon. I read romance to escape and feel good, and there were just too many places where the story was either a downer or clichéd devices were being employed. 

Gone for You and Fall with Me I can’t recommend enough, especially to my safety gang friends. If you are looking for a sweet, sexy, and safe rocker romance, those two stories are the ones. Missing From Me, however, is sadly missing the elements that made the first two so great. It’s definitely geared towards readers of angsty rocker plots and fans of the second chances with a secret baby trope. I really hope Logan’s book returns to the style of the first two. Sean, I’d just as soon forget about.

99c for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS 
 
~Also Available~
5 Stars!
Free for a limited time!
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO / iBOOKS


Coming Soon
Releasing January 12, 2018
 99c pre-order price!
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
B&N / KOBO

~Excerpt~
Chapter One

4 YEARS AGO

Sean
The front door slammed, shaking the walls in our small apartment. I snuggled closer to Anna’s side and buried my face in her hair.
Logan’s agitated voice cut through the fog of near sleep.
“Dude, wake up!”
Whatever mess my best friend had gotten himself into, he’d have to solve it on his own. This was one of Anna’s rare mornings off, and since we’d had the apartment to ourselves, we’d stayed up late, listening to the rain and having lazy sex until we’d passed out.
Smiling at the thought of a repeat, I grumbled in Logan’s general direction, “Go away. I don’t have any condoms. Carry your ass to the store like a normal person and leave us alone.”
His footsteps echoed in the tiny room, and then he was beside me, his long fingers digging into my shoulder as he gave me a hard shake. “I’m serious. Get up.” 
Not happening.
A frustrated groan escaped my lips when Anna twisted in my arms. She propped herself up on one elbow, wiping the sleep from her eyes. “What do you need, Lo?”
A swift kick in the ass.
Rolling onto my back, I smothered my face with the pillow, hoping he’d get the hint. Of course, he didn’t. 
Cursing under his breath, Logan rooted around under the comforter. 
“Hey!” I snarled, tossing the pillow at him. “Whatever you’re looking for, I don’t have it.” 
Running an agitated hand through his blond hair, Logan glared at me. 
“Where’s your remote?” Anxiety laced his tone when I didn’t answer right away. “For the TV, douchebag—where’s the remote?” 
Anna fumbled around on the nightstand and then handed him the clunky device. “What’s wrong with the TV in your room?”
Logan walked to the end of the bed and took a seat.
Anna sat up, scowling. “Make it quick.” She slumped against the headboard, glaring at the back of Logan’s head. “Seriously, Lo, hurry up. I have to pee.” 
Logan ignored her, all his attention focused on the screen as he flipped through the channels. His shoulders sagged when he reached CNN. 
Cable News? Now he had my attention. The only things Logan ever watched were MTV, VH1, or the Cartoon Network. 
I popped up to see what was so important, but something told me I didn’t want to know. “What’s going on?”
“Quiet,” Logan whispered.
Buttoning my lip, I reluctantly focused on the screen where a stone-faced commentator stood in a field, fat droplets of rain pelting her microphone. 
“…live footage from the scene of the tragic accident outside of Fredericksburg, Texas this morning where two members of the super-group Damaged lost their lives in a fiery crash. At this point, we’re unable to confirm the identities of the deceased. Damaged, arguably the hottest band in the country, just completed a series of shows in the Southwest and...”
The camera panned out for a wide-angle shot. Wisps of smoke rose from the wreckage, dissolving into the gray morning sky. 
A gasp from Anna. “Oh my God.” 
She crumbled against me, her small hand curving around my waist as she buried her face in my chest. Unable to make sense of what I was seeing, I stroked her hair with numb fingers. 
After a few moments of stunned silence, Logan jumped to his feet. “What the fuck is she smiling about?”
Confused, I blinked at him. “Who?” 
“The fucking reporter.” He pointed at the TV with a shaky hand. “What the hell is she grinning for?”
I shifted my gaze back to the screen, and sure as shit, the reporter was smiling. Just a slight upturn of her glossy lips. 
I tightened my grip on my girl. “It’s her job, man. She doesn’t...” Emotion clogged my throat, and I struggled for breath. For words. “She doesn’t know them.”
But then, neither did we. Not really. Damaged hailed from Austin, our hometown. And over the last five years, as their star ascended, our paths had crossed on occasion.
Our band, Caged, was one of the many groups on Sixth Street that loosely followed the Damaged blueprint. Since high school, we’d been playing the same bars where Damaged got their start, hoping a little of their magic would rub off.
The news report abruptly cut to KVUE, the local ABC affiliate. Terri Gruca, the nighttime anchor, sat stoically behind the half-lit desk, her co-anchor nowhere in sight. 
“Thank you, Sandy.” Terri blinked into the camera. “We’ve just got word at the studio that Rhenn Grayson, lead singer for the Grammy winning band Damaged, and Paige Dawson, lead guitarist, were pronounced dead at the scene of the accident on Highway 290 this morning.” She looked down at the copy wobbling in her shaking hand. “Rhenn’s wife, singer Tori Grayson, and drummer, Miles Cooper, were airlifted to Brackenridge Hospital via Care Flight. According to band manager, Taryn Ayers, Mrs. Grayson and Mr. Cooper are both in critical condition. The bus driver was also pronounced dead at the crash site.” Still photos of Rhenn and Paige appeared on a split screen in the background behind Terri’s head. “Our prayers go out to the families. After a brief commercial break, we’ll cut to the CNN studio for further updates on this tragedy and a look back at the lives of these two gifted musicians.”
My head pounded as a commercial for toaster strudel flickered across the screen. Smiling faces and cheery voices, touting the virtue of strawberry jam tucked inside a fluffy pastry shell. Somewhere, people were probably eating that shit. 
But not Rhenn or Paige. 
“They were twenty-four years old,” Logan murmured.
As he turned to face me, questions clouded his arctic blue eyes. The same questions I’d seen every day since the first time we met. About death, and why it visited some while leaving others alone. Death was what brought Logan and me together, after all. Our shared bond. Two kids whose mothers would never sit at the long table in Mrs. Varner’s classroom handing out cookies. Because our mothers had “passed.” 
That’s the polite term people used when someone died. The same folks made sure to tell you they were “sorry for your loss.” 
Which I always found funny, since my mother wasn’t lost. She was dead. 
Rhenn’s voice boomed from the speaker on the worn-out TV. Smiling his most iconic smile, he stood back to back with Paige as he crooned the band’s latest hit.
I leaned forward to drink it all in. Because that’s all that was left now, bits of light and shadow caught on tape.
Slithering from my loose hold, Anna stumbled to her feet. “I’ve got to pee.” 
Before she got away, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and then slipped my arms around her waist to pull her between my knees.
Resting my forehead against her chest, I breathed deeply, her peach scent soothing me like a balm. “I love you, Anna-baby.” 
She sifted her fingers through my hair until I stopped shaking, and then kissed the top of my head. “Love you too.” 
Reluctantly, I let her go, and she retreated into the tiny bathroom. Through the paper-thin walls, I heard her crying softly. 
When she returned, her face splotchy and her eyes glistening with leftover tears, I gave her a soft smile and lifted the covers so she could crawl in beside me. 
An hour later and we still hadn’t moved, like if we stayed here, it wouldn’t be real.
But it was.


Jayne Frost, author of the Sixth Street Bands Romance Series, grew up in California with a dream of moving to Seattle to become a rock star. When the grunge thing didn’t work out (she never even made it to the Washington border) Jayne set her sights on Austin, Texas. After quickly becoming immersed in the Sixth Street Music scene…and discovering she couldn’t actually sing, Jayne decided to do the next best thing—write kick ass romances about hot rockstars and the women that steal their hearts.


Tuesday, October 17, 2017

REVIEW/RELEASE BLITZ: Character Flaws by Sierra Hill

Genre: Romantic Comedy

~Blurb~

Joey:
They say you never get a second chance at a first impression. That is, unless you’re my gorgeous temporary neighbor.

My first impression of Theo Crawford was anything but wonderful. He was discourteous, anti-social, and a drunken mess.

My second impression wasn’t much better when he inconsiderately woke me on a Sunday morning.

But by my third impression, my views toward Theo began to soften. Maybe he isn’t as bad as he seems.

And now? Well, let’s just say my defective heart doesn’t care that he’s gay, because I’ve fallen for him.

Theo:
Wait, what?

I’m not gay.

Where’d she get that impression?
~Book Review~

3 Stars

Joey Hughes can’t figure out the deal with the guy next door, Theo Crawford, 26. He’s living with one of her gay friends, and she’s under the impression that they are in a relationship, yet he’s also showing signs of interest towards her. And she’s got a major crush brewing on him.

While the blurb hints that the story might be a love-hate neighbors romance, it’s really a friends to lover tale, and that’s fine too. This started out as a possible 4 star read but then it began going downhill. Theo was a sweet book boyfriend in the beginning. He’s an average guy and had a realness about him. He wasn’t a manwhore and he preferred committed relationships to meaningless hook-ups. He seemed to have a lot of integrity. Until he didn’t. While there was some good relationship build-up in the first half as the pair got to know each other, the romance got waylaid later on by two major issues. 

One, the OW drama. With a chapter title like “Dealing with exes and sex-crazed co-directors” it should give readers a clue what I mean. The clichéd, scheming other women troupe cheapened the tale and made Theo appear to be lacking a backbone. 

Two, the incomplete sex scenes. I don’t know what the heck was up with that. A decent editor in the contemporary romance genre should have pointed that out. Their first sex scene, ya know the thing most romances build up to, is literally skipped over. Then it’s attempted to be told via flashback the next morning in italic. Did I mention italic is really annoying to read for pages? But even the retelling gets cut short just like about all of their encounters. And this isn’t what I’d classify as a “clean romance” either so I couldn’t figure out if I was supposed to be reading an adult book or one geared towards teens. 

Speaking of immature, with Joey it really showed in the ways she handled her students, didn’t cope well with her job, and thought jeans were a proper dress code for a professional in an authority role.  I had to agree with her on one thing though; teaching wasn’t the career for her.

Told via Joey and Theo’s alternating first person POV, this is a light-hearted tale that’s silly rather than funny, and by the end I was pretty blah on it.

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
 

Since self-publishing her first erotic contemporary romance in 2014, Sierra Hill found her creative passion, writing about the fictional characters that live in her brain, who constantly shout for their own love stories to be told. Sierra is a sucker for cheap accessories, enjoys traveling to see live concerts, and loves good seafood. Sierra resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband of twenty years and her long-haired, German Shepherd. She is currently working on her next HEA.

RELEASE BLITZ: Riske and Revenge by Natalie E. Wrye


Series: The Revenge Series
Genre: Contemporary Romance

~Blurb~

Love is the strongest emotion in the world…next to hate.

I knew hate. Had known it since I was seventeen. For me, it was love turned on its head, a product of hurt and fear—twisted, tied up…and placed on the sculpted shoulders of Ethan Riske.
***
Dayton, Tennessee.

Home to the best cow-tipping in the world, the biggest hot dogs, and the lousiest sex.

Or so I'd heard...

They were right about the first two. Ethan Riske proved them wrong about the third and at seventeen, he and I spent a summer under the stars, squeezing our way out of trouble, sweating and panting among the haystacks.

Until he left.

Nine years later, when a huge publishing housetries to buy my small press, I storm into the office of the CEO to find him.

Same cocky grin. Different name.

And suddenly all I can think about is exacting revenge on Ethan Riske for breaking his contract...and my heart.

But there's someone who wants revenge even more than I do. As I begin to fall for the new Ethan, will the sins of the old one come back to haunt us?

~Book Review~

DNF

I couldn’t connect with these characters or the romance. Top reasons why: 

1. H gets a blowjob by a stripper in the opening scene. (See except below)

2. Pages and pages in multiple chapters of flashbacks in italic. A simple ‘Fill-in-the-blank Years Ago’ heading would suffice. Italic is something to be used sparely. i.e. It’s annoying to read for any length of time! 

3. At 29%, Part 2, the H monologues that “I’d spent at least part of half the week with beach blonde bunnies in my bed, redheads in the Rolls, a caramel-haired cutie to bide the time.”


99c for a limited time
AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU
Free in Kindle Unlimited
~Excerpt~
Prologue
“I hope you taste as good as you smell.”
The sound drifted through the air. A slow, sensuous melody
floated with it, and as both made their way through the room, the beat of the
song and the quiet statement I just heard rattled the bourbon in my hand,
making the ice cubes shake.
Or maybe I was the one shaking.
I couldn’t help it. 
Griff was poking a hole in my ribs with his elbow, and as
the lips that had just whispered in my ear withdrew, I could see the look on my
“best man’s” face. He was essentially salivating, his tongue practically
swinging as he took in the vision of the woman who was speaking in my ear… and
laying a seductive path in my open lap.
She stood, her long legs stretching, her bare torso twisting
as she rolled the shape of an “S” in the air with her body, swaying seductively
to the music. She was toned… that was obvious. A tight package with tits too
big to be real, the buxom blonde in front of me was the object of every man’s
wet-dream, star of every cock-swinger’s fantasy…
Except mine.
But she was doing her best. Clad in a piece of cloth that
barely covered her clearly cleanly-waxed pussy, she ground her
pretty ass two inches from my face while every other man in the room fought the
urge to put their fingers all over her. My best friend, included. He nudged my
side for the ninetieth time.
“Fuck me, man,” he slurred. “If she was doing that to me,
I’d be two seconds from putting my finger in her ass.” He smirked widely and
wildly.
“Good thing you aren’t me,” I shot back quietly, leaning
over to look into his face. “That’d be a felony, you crazy ass.” I finally
smiled. “And the last time I checked you didn’t fuck strippers because ‘and I
quote…  ‘Who knows how many other items have been in those goddamned
holes?'"
I threw Griff’s own words back at him with a silent grin.
“Doesn’t matter,” he declared, staring at the stripper in
front of me for the thousandth time. “For her?” He swallowed another mouthful
of scotch. “I’d make an exception.”
I glared at the beautiful blonde again. Because Griff was
right. The exotic dancer… She might have been one of the best looking I’d ever
seen. Maybe the best. She was tall, long-legged. Gorgeous… in
the porn star sense, of course, with a wide, luscious mouth made for licking
and sucking in only the most erotic of ways.
She licked her lips at me as if she wanted to make good on
the promise she’d just whispered, and I had no doubt when she looked at me, her
brown doe-like eyes wide, that—if she could, she would devour me until nothing
was left. Until she drained every drop.
Unfortunately, for her, I wasn’t interested.
She tried to drag me to my feet, her tiny fingers wrapping
around my own, pulling as she walked backwards in the direction of the edge of
the room. The overhead maroon lights illuminating the space in our black-curtain
closed boudoir made her look as naughty as every word dripping from her
blood-red mouth, and Bambi the Bimbo was putting on her best pout to entice me
into joining her towards whatever dirty fun lay in the dark room beyond this
one.
All of the men—friend and foe—whooped as I slowly dragged
myself to my feet, stumbling and fumbling over the discarded decorations that
littered the floor. Streamers and “Congratulations” ribbons ran the length of
the room, taking up space between the cloth-covered tables, and I staggered
past them, barely holding onto my Bourbon as I followed stolidly behind the
too-excited dancer who nearly bounced on her platform-covered toes.
With the push of another curtain, we fell into another room,
and I let my body flounce on the dark-colored couches beyond it, slumping into
the padded cushions. I took a healthy swig of my drink and sank my fingers into
the seat beneath, wondering how many stains these comfortable sofas had really seen.
The drunker I got, the more it didn’t matter. Ignorance
truly was bliss.
And so was the sensation making its way down my crotch—a
gentle rubbing that circled the length of my cock through the fabric of my suit
pants. From the tip to the very base. I groaned, closing my eyes as I saw a
vision in my mind. A vision too good to be true. 
A vision almost ten years old.
Waves of dark hair fell to a waist too tiny to be anything
but touched. Shiny and soft, the beautiful brown mane swept across my chest,
against my shirt, as two eyes, a crystal-clear blue, peeked from beneath the
strands, as round and as large as saucers. In my mind, they met mine, saying
things that couldn’t be vocalized, voicing words that need not be said.
They seduced in the most innocent of ways, waylaying me,
pulling at a possessiveness in me I didn’t know existed. The blue eyes smiled.
The smile beneath them was even better—wicked, as it dipped to my abdomen and
pressed there, making me ache, causing my cock to strain against the
inconvenient zipper located there.
How many times had I imagined those lips doing exactly that?
That tongue licking out beneath those straight white teeth to lap at my skin,
the edge of her mouth nipping at the most sensitive parts of me? It was
torture—letting her tease me, taking me to the brink and back again as she
swept that sheet of auburn locks over my body as she bent to her knees. I
sucked in a breath soaked in desire as I waited for her to place her mouth
where it mattered most.
And then it stopped. The teasing. She stopped. 
And before I knew it, she was pulling—no, ripping—at my
pants. The top button popped, and suddenly my cock was between her hands, her
lips. She sank her mouth around it with a sigh, sucking with delight. The
sexiest slurp ever made to man escaped from between her teeth, and I nearly
lost it, grinding my own teeth as I gripped the back of her head, my eyelids
squeezing tight enough to ache.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” I muttered. Over and over and over
again.
It was fucking amazing. Something so simple—someone so
simple, sweet and secretly naughty could bring a stubborn fucker like me—CEO
and all—to his Giorgio Armani-covered knees.
I came… with my cock in her mouth and her name on my mind. I
leaned back even further, letting my head fall into the cushions.
“Fuck, Kat…” I mumbled, feeling way too fucked up to move,
the liquor coursing through my veins as I came down from my high, my fingers
reaching out to touch her once more.
But she backed away.
“Kat?” she said, rising to her feet. “Who the fuck is Kat?”
I opened my eyes, staring at the figure fumbling around in
front of me. It was the blonde vixen—the stripper. Standing on shaky legs, she
wobbled between my legs, locking me with a stare, her eyes hard and unblinking.
She placed her hands on her tiny hips.
“Who the hell is Kat?”
As if she was outraged. As if she had any right to question
whatever the fuck I was doing anyway. I ignored her with a shrug, stowing my
dick back in my pants with a loud zip! I finished my drink and
sat it down.
“Ohhhh… I get it,” the blonde blower hissed. “She must be
your fiancé. Well… I guarantee you that she’s never made you come like that.
That was epic, baby,” she sighed, trying to straddle me. Her pussy was peeking
completely out of her barely-there panties this time, and she tried to rub it
across me, sliding her pink slit across the front of my pants with a slow
grind.
I almost pushed her off. I stood.
“There is no fiancee,” I rumbled.
“But I thought…”
“My friends,” I interrupted, “thought it’d be funny to
celebrate my new position. They said it was fitting… seeing as how I’m now
married to my job. This isn’t a real bachelor party. And that
wasn’t a real blow-job…”
She raised an eyebrow. “Certainly felt real
to me.”
I pulled out my wallet, taking out a couple hundred dollar
bills and putting them in the palm of her hand. I folded her fingers around
them, looking into her eyes.
“Can’t be real… Not when you’re thinking about someone else
the entire time.”
I turned just as the fair-haired, breathing blow-up doll
gaped. I pulled the black curtain aside, exiting, attempting to avoid the
curious gaze of every onlooking employee that came to the party to usher me
into my new executive role.
My smile was weak, as I tried to shake off what just
happened to me in the other room… and who I was imagining it happening with. Somehow,
it was the brunette in my head, and not the blonde on my lap, that felt as if
she were still on my skin.
I was in so much fucking trouble.



Natalie Wrye is a tequila connoisseur, Game of Thrones addict and author best known for writing page-turning Contemporary Romance and Romantic Suspense. A fan of the beautifully polarizing anti-hero, she crafts sexy stories about hard-bodied, complex men and the strong-willed women who crave them.