I’m late, but I blame it on this stupid flu that has turned me into a snot factory. My head is fuzzy, my nose is blocked, and my ears are stuffy. I’ve spent most of the weekend on my couch, bemoaning my existence, and spreading the germs to my hubby and son.
Is that lovely mental image burning the insides of your eyelids?
To help you get your mind off it, here’s a snippet of my novella Colin (Threefold, #1)
“I’m not sleepy either. Let’s watch one more.” He couldn’t care less about Battlestar Galactica at this point. Becca had let down her hair, literally and figuratively. Her curls framed her face, and Colin wanted to wrap a ringlet around his finger, and see if it felt as silky as it looked.
“Okay, but my back hurts. I need to get more comfy.” She squished a throw pillow between her hands, scrunched her nose, then looked at him. “This isn’t a come-on. I’m too tired for sex now anyway.”
Before Colin could get past his incredulity and ask what she meant, Becca stretched out on her side and laid her head in his lap.
“Ah, that’s better,” she said.
Not for him. Now she was inches from his cock. And what was he supposed to do with his hand? He closed it into a fist. Spread his arm out and propped it along the back of the couch. Not exactly comfortable.
In the end, he placed it on her shoulder. If he just rested it there, and didn’t move, he could pretend it wasn’t her flawless skin burning his fingertips. And maybe he would stop wanting to ghost his palm along the line of her cleavage and cup the breasts drawing his gaze with every breath she took.
She tossed back her hair, and a single tendril glided along the back of his hand. He moved fast, and trapped it under his thumb. It did feel like silk, and he knew it smelled deliciously.
Why had he asked her to stay? To prolong his agony?
He didn’t know what agony meant, until she slid one hand under his thigh. Colin squirmed, expecting her touch to become bolder. It didn’t, but her fingers seared him through the denim.
“I thought this wasn’t a come-on,” he managed through gritted teeth.
“Huh?” She looked up at him, and he saw real confusion in her eyes.
“Nothing. I’m seeing things.” And she’d soon be feeling them, if he didn’t calm down.
Colin Daniels is shallow, and proud of it. He only concerns himself with people who live up to his standards of beauty, and his best friend’s new girlfriend is found lacking. Becca is curvy, loud, and apparently all for public displays of affection.
None of that would matter, if Colin didn’t find her sexy despite his better judgment. When Brad asks for a favor, Colin has to choose between giving in to his desires and respecting the very few boundaries he’s set for himself.
Never screw your best friend’s girl. Or your best friend.
The next book in the series, Brad, is coming on May 15th. Find out more and pre-order it here.