Not You It's Me (Boston Love, #1)

by Julie Johnson

“Don’t ever thank a man for kissing you.”

So, he may not date, but he certainly…. Makes love? No, that’s not the right term. He… Fucks. This is a man who fucks.

The way I see it, everyone’s been telling the story wrong. I mean, take Cinderella, for example. She never asked for a Prince, let alone waited around for one. Hell, all she ever wanted was a night off from work and a fancy dress to twirl in for a few hours. It’s never made sense to me that I’m supposed to sit around pining for some mythical Prince Charming to get off his ass and rescue me. If that’s the grand game plan, I could end up waiting forever. Because, I mean, if he’s anything like the rest of the male population, the prince is probably stuck in traffic somewhere, or got lost along the way and is too damn stubborn to ask for directions.

Then, I let him piece me back together, thrust by thrust, our gazes locked,

These sex scenes aint it bruv.