Naomi Porter was once witty, fun, and outgoing, but she
has scratched outgoing off the list, along with men. She has a mediocre
tech job in fabulous New York, a large smut book collection, and awesome
friends, both tangible and in an online gaming community. She just
doesn’t date. A future filled with cats and housedresses beats having
her heart
broken again.
But Naomi still likes men, even kind of stalks—mostly fantasizes about—a gorgeous one at work during lunch.
Her
best friend, Kara, is
determined that Naomi will be outgoing again. When Kara finds out who,
as in a notorious playboy, Naomi is stalking at lunch, she plans to
break Naomi of her lunchtime habit and bring her back into the real
world. It’s just going to take a bit of deception.
Between
all the deceiving, fangirling, and bumbling, Naomi might not be able to
resist the temptation of turning her seven-month fantasy into reality.
And really, so what if he’s a playboy or a demanding jerk? Her fantasies
don’t include love or even like, just a bed or a couch or the back seat
of a limo…
Reality might be just what she needs.
*A sexy romantic comedy intended for audiences 18+
As we shuffled our way through the mass of models, I tried not to ogle his ass, but I couldn’t help it.
The man had a crazy fine ass. Even the suit couldn’t hide its lovely definition.
Once we settled in the corner, my stare at him was cool.
“You could have warned me in a text or something that you were coming.”
His brows lifted.
“And ruin Jules’s surprise?”
My fingers drummed on the side of my glass. I was getting good at being a nervous wreck on the inside while maintaining a cool composure on the outside.
“Jules is not the one making you dinner next week.”
“True. Nor is she the one discussing I can be demanding…in other places.” He lifted his martini glass, staring over the rim at me with hot, hot eyes.
The sly, Cheshire smirk on his face caused me to blurt,
“You’re not one of those rich guys in to freaky sex? Bondage? Kink?”
I squeaked the last word, realizing that one, I had actually asked those questions, and two, my smutty fantasy reading had just invaded my real life. I almost slapped my hand over my own mouth.
His lids lowered at the same time he lowered his glass. He leaned toward my ear.
“I’m in to women. Whatever else happens, or what I demand, is because of that. No hang-ups or fetishes drive my desire, just female flesh. And right now, I’m in to you.”
Whoa. Wow. Whoa. My face, my ear, and other body parts, lower body parts, burned from his words and the low timbre of his voice. For once I was speechless and had to restrain myself from fanning my face.
He stood back up, lifting his drink.
“Happy birthday, Miss Porter. You look stunning this evening.”
“Um…ah…thank you, Mr. Jordan.”
I raised my own drink and took a fortifying gulp. He had blatantly, and sexily, said he was into me. Me!
So the hell what if it was for the moment.
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When Jean Haus isn't writing,
she's usually reading. Anything from young adult to historical fiction
as long as there’s at least a bit of romance, she'll load it on her
Kindle. She also loves to cook. And someday she will create the world’s
best potsticker.
Other Books by Jean Haus
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