Genre: Contemporary Romance,
Erotica
Synopsis
Gregory
Thomas has always had an easy life. When it came to his profession,
he excelled, gaining himself the position of manager to one of the
nation’s biggest wholesale retailers. He was amazing at
everything; except when it came to love. The night he found his
ex-wife in bed with her gay best friend was the night he decided it
wasn’t worth it. He was better off just focusing on his career, and
nothing more.
He
became content with just being. That is, until Jasmine Velez, his new
employee, walked into his store.
Blunt,
and honest to a fault, the woman captivates him against his will. Not
only is she gorgeous, but she’s the first woman that doesn’t
chase him around. Something that makes ignoring her that much harder.
The last thing he wants to do is try to have a relationship with a
woman again, and he knows that if he allows Jasmine in, that’s
exactly what he’s going to go for.
Except,
then he’s faced with the possibility of Jasmine being with someone
else, and the choice is taken from him. He’s left with only one
option: He needs to make her his. But that might prove harder than he
originally expected.
How the
hell does a man seduce a feisty woman who’s gotten tired of waiting
for him and is hell bent on not giving into him?
Promotional
Pic: Feel free to use one or the other…
Excerpt:
I pushed her forward
with a gentle hand, removing that luscious ass from dangerous
territory. We both needed a minute to cool down.
Jasmine’s
breathing was harsh, and her body trembled as she stood facing away
from me. I could hear her faint mumbling while she attempted to right
herself.
Was
she regretting this?
A
blush overtook her cheeks, and I almost pulled her back into my
front. The color looked so beautiful on her sun kissed skin that I
needed to see more.
“Turn
around,” I commanded, but she stood as still as a statue, shaking
her head from side to side.
Please
don’t shut down on me, baby . . . please give yourself to me.
“Turn
around, Jasmine.”
She
jumped from the force of my tone and diligently complied.
Good
girl.
“I’m
sorry, Mr. T.” she sputtered, and then continued to blush under my
unwavering stare. “I don’t know what came over me . . . please .
. . please, don’t fire me.”
“Oh,
sweet Jasmine, I’m not going to fire you. We both reacted to our
natural instincts. I believe it would be for the best if we put this
incident behind us, and never speak of it again.” At that she
looked disappointed.
Perfect.
“Um,
sure, Sir,” my coquettish clerk whispered. “If that’s what you
wish.”
“For
now, it is.” Her eyes snapped up and searched mine.
The
following thirty minutes were spent participating in the dirtiest
foreplay session I’d ever been subjected to.
Inside
my office, Jasmine made a direct bee-line for the small leather couch
I had against the wall and made herself at home.
When
the smell of the specialty blend coffee saturated the space she
moaned out and declared, “Fuck, that’s the good shit,” in the
most sinful tone I’d ever heard from her.
I
growled at her, but that only served to entice her further. The
little minx let her eyes roll to the back of her head, and then
arched her back so that her breasts pushed against her red polo.
Jasmine’s nipples pebbled while my eyes devoured her breasts. They
were encased in what looked to be a flimsy piece of lace, judging by
the pattern that could be seen in the taut fabric.
My
feet began to carry me over to where she sat; in my hands I held a
tray of guava and cheese filled pastries. I wanted to watch her lick
the sweet concoction from her fingers, lips, and if possible, off my
cock.
“Jasmine,”
I growled low, and she trembled. I knew my face was showing her just
how sinister I could be . . . how nasty. I felt the sneer on my face.
“Care for a pastry or something else to entice those soft, plump
lips?”
“Jesus,
please . . . yes,” she mewled.
Placing
the tray beside her on the small couch, I crouched down to her level.
My fingers reached out to place a stray piece of her black hair
behind her ear, all while my eyes were devouring the lust and want
her caramel eyes were throwing back at me.
Perfect.
“Jasmine,
tell me . . . what do you want?”
Nothing.
Not a sound came from her in response.
“Answer me,
sweetheart, or this ends now.”
Still
I was met with silence.
“Now!”
I yelled.
Her
pouty lips crashed onto mine before my brain could process another
thought. Sweet, succulent, and soft; they were giving me what I
needed by yielding to mine.
Author Bio:
Elena M. Reyes was born and raised in Miami Florida. She is the
epitome of a Floridian and if she could live in her beloved
flip-flops, she would.
As a
small child, she was always intrigued with all forms of art—whether
it was dancing to island rhythms, or painting with any medium she
could get her hands on. Her first taste of writing came to her during
her fifth grade year when her class was prompted to participate in
the D. A. R. E. Program and write an essay on what they’d learned.
Her
passion for reading over the years has amassed her with hours of
pleasure. It wasn't until she stumbled upon fanfiction that her
thirst to write overtook her world. She now resides in Central
Florida with her husband and son, spending all her down time letting
her creativity flow and letting her characters grow.
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