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What an odd name
Eight years ago, I lost the love of my life.
whitish-blond whisks
“Tough is being a man even when the odds are stacked against you. It’s doing the right thing when the wrong thing is easier. Grow up.
bright cornflower-blue eyes
I’m a design intern.
“What kind of name is Zaxton anyway? Paxton, Jaxson, Saxton even, but I’ve never heard of a Zaxton.”
Girl, same
yet it’s erotic in some strange way. “No.”
lol what? Kinky
“What exactly does my touch do to you?”
That escalated quickly
I forgot how gorgeous the man is and simply put, magazines and internet shots did not do him justice. Tall, broad, and visibly muscular even beneath his charcoal suit and navy button-down. Intimidating, serious dark eyes matching thick, slightly unruly hair, and a chin dimple that rivals Henry Cavill’s.
Vermicelli or however she pronounces her name did to you.”
LOL
“Sweet pea, I never sugarcoat shit because no matter what, it still stinks.
I’m biased. I know I’m holding onto old grudges I should let go of.
You were disrespectful and I get it. He’s the boss. But fear of speaking up is what has consistently placed women in the dark ages and had us not viewed as equals. Be bold. Be strong. And if this is where it ends for you here, remember you are brilliant and talented. Carve your own path without requiring the aid of anyone else.”
The first time I met Aurelia Whitlock, I hated the sight of her. Or more aptly what she represented and brought into my life. Yet another mother figure who would pretend to give two fucks for exactly two seconds before growing bored and deciding her time was better spent spending my father’s money. Her mother wasn’t the first stepmother I had nor was she the last.
Me wanting to fuck the woman who was once my stepsister. It fucking bothers me.
nine-year age gap
A woman you’ll never see again, Ash, is not.”
Foreshadowing
Aurelia: You want me to work for you? You know that comes with my mouth, right? Aurelia: Crap, I know that sounded dirty, but it wasn’t meant to be. I didn’t mean to insinuate that my mouth works for you or does things for you. Aurelia: And yeah, wow, I just made that a whole lot worse. I swear, that’s not what I was thinking about. I’m nervous about this. You make me nervous.
I’m not a coffee drinker. I’m a Diet Coke drinker, which I know is gross in the morning, but we all have our kinks and vices.
If I didn’t just promise Beth and Iris that I’m not here to nail the man, I’d swear my vagina would take it upon herself to climb his face before impaling herself on his dick.
A stroke at twenty-two. And only I know why it happened.
She’s merely a sweet kitten with soft claws playing in the lion’s den.
lean into her ear and whisper, “Go home, Aurelia. Email me everything you think I need to see, but for fuck’s sake, go home. Now.” Before I carry out everything that’s tearing through my mind. Before I rip everything, the only thing, I have a strong hold on apart.
She was a b to the itch.
“Those are some shouty caps.”
“I’ll see you at the meeting. Let us pray we make it out of there with our jobs!” He crosses himself and then is off to his desk on the other side of the floor. “You’re Jewish,” I yell after him. “We need all the help we can get. Jews don’t have a symbol like that, and Jesus was a Jew until he wasn’t.” Man might have a point.
“Nah, babe. We both win. You’re all wet and sticky, and I’m the one who made you that way.” My hands cover my face as I start laughing uncontrollably. “Oh, you went there, Mr. One Upper.”
“You’re late—Ahhh!” he screams. “What the fuckity fuck is this disaster?” “This is Asher Reyes,” I introduce, waving a hand toward Asher and making him crack up again. “But I don’t think it’s fair to call him a disaster.”
Zax: You were never my little sister, Aurelia, and I certainly don’t think of you like one now.
Zax: Because this is the message you sent me: “Anoer of yer grates hits. This towwn seriously needs too get over itss obslession with you.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” a booming male voice calls out that instantly has me shivering in both nerves and pleasure. “And the only one taking her home tonight is me.”
Daddy…
“Because it’s not creepy.” Georgia flips her red head in his direction. “It’s hot. Can I get an Amen on this? Stepsibling and age-gap tropes are hot.”
Georgia you’re my jam
Grey and Georgia
Friends to lovers.
“What is this?” I ask, stiff-arming her with my hand pressed into her forehead, holding her back.
“I’m Ashley,” he introduces. “Mr. Monroe’s driver.” “Nice to meet you, Ashley. You’re a brave soul and I’m in awe of you.” He laughs. “I’ve been told
“I don’t want you to care,” she seethes, though her voice cracks at the end before she fixes it with a simple clearing of her throat. “I don’t need to find you any more attractive than I already do.
But like it or not, every time you see me, you’ll know how much I want you. And every time I see you, I’ll know you want me back just as much.”
Only she doesn’t just steal thunder, she’s the storm. The category five hurricane and the F-5 tornado. Destructively exquisite and a force to behold. I saw her walk in that dress she designed, and yes, the dress was something else, but it was her I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
With that, she spins around, the bottom of her skirt twirling out around her as she sashays to the bathroom. “You’re swaying your hips and ass,” I call out after her. “Stop noticing.” I smile like a son of a bitch. “Not possible,” I murmur under my breath. Then I do, in fact, go for her granola.
It’s going to have to be Zax and yeah, I like that thought as much as I’m trying not to like that thought.
His head dips down to whisper in my ear, “Now you know why I had to make myself come before I could see you. Incidentally, I’m keeping your underwear. And the pretty wet spot you left behind in them.”
“I’m coming with you.” “I didn’t invite you.” I dip in, my eyes on hers, our noses an inch apart. “I wasn’t giving you the option.” “Are you planning on cockblocking me all night?” “Yup.”
And just as I give up the fight, a man comes in behind her, placing his hands on her hips. Her eyes pop open and she shakes her head at him, pointing at me as if I’m her date. Her lover. And for the first time in eight years, I realize that’s exactly what I want to be with her. It’s a startling realization. One that knocks the breath from me.
“You’re fucking perfect.” Does she have a fraction of a clue just how perfect she is to me?
won’t risk my heart or my job on a man who I know will never be anything more than a good time. He won’t love me. He won’t date me. Hell, he doesn’t even like me. I need more than that from a man. More than attraction and heat.
Please don’t give me excuses or tell me you like me but or say how I’m beautiful except or that I’m special however. I don’t want to hear it. I’ve heard it all a dozen times before by lesser men than you.
That is until his mouth finds my ear. “You’re not an except. You’re not a but. You’re not a however. You’re an addiction I don’t know how to claim or conquer.”
So where my heart is a bit muddled, the rest of me isn't. I told him he’s not worth the risk, which still holds true. I need this job. A hell of a lot more than I need to chase after a man who doesn’t want to be caught.
He groans. “Tease.” I can’t fight my giggle. “You’re the one looking.” The driver takes my hand, helping me out of the car. “Because I’m picturing your legs on my shoulders and wrapped around my head,”
