Chandler
by Laurelin Paige
Series: A Fixed Trilogy Spinoff
Release Date: September 20th, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Series: A Fixed Trilogy Spinoff
Release Date: September 20th, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Synopsis:
I'm good in a boardroom, but I’m better in the bedroom. Much better. I can charm the skirt off any woman in one encounter. I'll even give her an orgasm before I put her in a cab. Or three. No more or she’ll start making plans for the future and I'm not into that.
Or I wasn’t until Genevive Fasbender. She's the first woman in five years that I want to spend the whole night with. And she's the first woman who’s told me I'm not what she wants in a lover, even after multiple O’s. She’s brash and bold and stubborn as hell, and she doesn’t believe it’s possible to satisfy her.
But I’m up for the challenge.
And after an incident in my brother’s office closet―a downright dirty incident―I think I’m just the guy to deliver.
Genevive Fasbender will never know what’s coming.
Or I wasn’t until Genevive Fasbender. She's the first woman in five years that I want to spend the whole night with. And she's the first woman who’s told me I'm not what she wants in a lover, even after multiple O’s. She’s brash and bold and stubborn as hell, and she doesn’t believe it’s possible to satisfy her.
But I’m up for the challenge.
And after an incident in my brother’s office closet―a downright dirty incident―I think I’m just the guy to deliver.
Genevive Fasbender will never know what’s coming.
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Excerpt:
Five
minutes later, the valet pulls up with my car. Genevieve raises an
eyebrow. “A Bugatti?”
I’m
so impressed she can name the model that I practically jizz in my
pants. “It’s the best.”
She
shakes her head, and I swear I hear her mutter something about rich
men and their toys, but I don’t respond, too occupied with
inspecting my car and then passing the attendant the cash I promised
him earlier for returning my vehicle in perfect condition.
I
slide into the driver’s seat, and when I look over at Genevieve as
she buckles her seatbelt, a wave of pure, unadulterated lust rolls
through me. I’m very aware that I’ve trapped her, that she’s
now defenseless to my whims. Not that I’d take advantage, but
goddamn, to think that I could…
I
nearly shiver at my own vile thoughts.
Glad
she can’t know what I’m thinking, I flash her a smile. “So.
Where am I taking you?”
“I’m
staying at the Park Hyatt on 57th Street.”
“Fancy.”
The Park Hyatt is one of the nicest luxury hotels in New York. That
means this girl has money, which isn’t a bad thing. Just, the swell
of my wallet in my back pocket is usually one of my better
attributes. If wealth doesn’t attract her, I hope I’m not shit
out of luck when it comes to getting an invitation up to her room.
Apparently,
I’m transparent because she asks, “Not impressed?”
“Quite
the opposite. I’m worried you won’t have a reason to be impressed
with me.” Now I’m the one who can’t believe how honest
I’m being.
“It’s
a valid worry,” she says after a beat, and I can’t tell if she’s
teasing or being blunt. Can’t tell if I should prepare for
gut-wrenching disappointment or dive into another round of sexy
banter.
I
concentrate on my driving instead, speeding up before slipping
expertly into a tight opening in the adjacent lane.
I’ll
admit I’m showing off.
“Smashing,”
she says with a tone that vibrates through my body like I’m a
tuning fork.
Then,
abruptly, she laughs, and I turn my head toward her, alarmed at the
source of her amusement.
“I
still can’t believe you drive a Bugatti in the city. I can’t
decide if that makes you brilliant or as mad as a bag of ferrets.”
“Brilliant,
of course.” Though, with her so close, I feel more like I’m going
crazy. “What can I say? I like things that are fast.”
“Of
course you do.”
“You
don’t?” I raise a questioning brow. “Maybe you don’t
understand how awesome fast can be.” I put my foot on the gas and
race down the next block to prove my point.
The
traffic light turns red as I approach the intersection, and I ease
the brakes. “See? Fast is fun.”
“The
problem with fast is it’s over too quickly.”
Is
that innuendo? Her gaze pierces into me, and the air around us feels
tight and charged, and I’m suddenly certain that I will die if I
don’t get to taste her tonight.
Even
if she didn’t mean anything more when she made her statement, I
certainly do when I say, “Don’t worry. I know when to take my
time.”
She
exhales, slowly, and I swear I can feel it. As though she’s
already in my arms and her breath is grazing every inch of my bare
skin. No matter what happens after this, I know she at least feels
this…this attraction. Or whatever it is.
Her
voice is low and sultry when she replies. “You’re not talking
about cars anymore. But do you really take your time? I’d guess you
bolt the minute you’re finished.” She’s so blunt, so direct,
and I don’t know if it’s a her thing or an English thing,
but I like it.
I
also like this conversation we’re having. Because we’re drawing
the lines, and that means the potential for tonight is high. So I
answer with a nod, making sure she understands that she’s correct
in thinking I’ll bolt. Because I will.
About the author:
Laurelin
Paige is the NY Times and USA Today Bestselling Author of the Fixed
Trilogy. She's a sucker for a good romance and gets giddy anytime
there's kissing, much to the embarrassment of her three daughters.
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