Love, romance, hearts, flowers, cupid…. Rubbish.
Abby Fine still hasn’t gotten over the pain of a year-old betrayal and plans to spend this Valentine’s Day drowning her sorrows with a ménage of men named Ben, Jerry, and Riesling.
Her plans are diverted when she drops and breaks her new iPhone and gives in to a momentary hormone surge, agreeing to let office hottie and tech god Tom Walker squirm his way into her condo to fix it.
Tom shows up with his Xbox, spicy Chinese food, and a habit of stealing kisses every time she lets her guard down.
Can a weekend of laughter, video games, and movies change Abby’s opinion of stupid Cupid?
Genre: Contemporary, erotic romance, holiday, romantic comedy, chick-lit
Heat level: 4
Word count – 27k
Cover art by LFD Designs
His hands crossed the gap between our bodies and rested on my hips. Backing away would be the smart thing to do. But hope filled my belly he’d kiss me again. The stupid part of my brain had taken control again, and I didn’t fight it. I wanted a real kiss. “So if you are in fact the geekier geek, what do I get as a forfeit?” he asked.
The shadow of stubble covered his chin and his upper lip, ran up to the short sideburns he wore. His ears begged to be nibbled on. What would that stubble feel like brushed against my skin? Dangerous thoughts, especially since my hands had somehow ended up on his waist and my fingers clenched his shirt. I looked at his arms, still surprised by the size of muscles when they flexed. If the biceps were any indicator of the body hidden under the cloth, it broke the mold of a stereotypical geek’s.
“Yeah. You know, like a prize.”
“I think you already got a forfeit. You got to see me naked.” And all I’ve gotten is a few stolen kisses.
“That was an accident.” He grew hard against my belly. It pleased me to wonder what direction his thoughts had gone. I wondered if ice cream intoxication existed. “How about sex in my truck?”
“No. Car sex isn’t really comfortable. And who said anything about sex?”
“A man can hope. Besides, I know you’ve thought about it.”
“Shut up and kiss me.”
He shook his head. “I promised to behave. You kiss me.”
For a girl whose first book was called “The Scariest Forest Ever,” the jump to romance may seem to be a far one. But a love of happy endings and the stories she kept making up in her head for strangers on the street lead to an unhealthy amount of time spent behind the keyboard typing away and giggling mischievously over sassy heroines, sexy heroes, and healthy sprinklings of geek humor.
With time split between a day job staring at teeth, two little girls, college courses, workaholic husband, and too many voices in her head, Jennifer still finds time to sneak off and devour all the books she can find – even if it means hiding in the closet to read them.
She insists on her jokes being dirty, drinks spiked, and tattoos placed in intriguing, muscular places you can only find when the clothes come off.