There are risks to mixing business with pleasure...
IF A MAN HAS AN AFFAIR AT WORK, HE'S A STUD.
He was a royal prick.
The night we met, he ignored me.
Then Mr. Big Shot CEO grabbed my ass in a business meeting.
My boss just loaned me out to this guy.
Now, we’re working on a major project together.
And our chemistry is dangerous.
Combustible.
If I allow it to ignite, I’ll risk losing that promotion.
Worse, what if I lose myself in him?
IF A WOMAN HAS AN AFFAIR AT WORK, SHE'S A SLUT.
From the moment I saw her I knew she was trouble.
It was the combination of her fresh face, smart mouth and nipples that seemed to know my name.
This woman could satisfy my needs both in the boardroom and the bedroom.
But there was more to it than that.
I wanted her.
Really wanted her.
And I was in the position to change the course of her life.
But I’ve got secrets, secrets that could destroy her.
And either make her mine or drive her away forever.
About the Author:
USA Today Bestseller Julie A. Richman is the author of the highly acclaimed NEEDING MOORE SERIES trilogy (SEARCHING FOR MOORE, MOORE TO LOSE & MOORE THAN FOREVER), BAD SON RISING & HENRY'S END. Saddled with the affliction of serious wanderlust, Julie can often be found behind a camera lens in locales from Paris to Alaska.
Parking the Lotus, I quickly head to her side to help her out. She gives me a look and I laugh, “I’m only trying to be a gentleman.” I feign innocence.
“Mmm-hmm.” Even her mmm-hmm is dripping sarcasm.
Not commando. White lace. Oh God, she’s destroying me. I want to rip them off and lower her onto my lap. Impale her and discover what kissing does to her with my cock inside her.
Damn it. Will I be able to keep the promises I want to make?
Our waiter comes by and I order two Manhattans, smiling at Sierra.
“Craving cherries?” Her eyebrows are raised.
Oh man, she really is going to kill me tonight.
“Only if they are yours.”
“You want mine?” she asks and I can see she feels it. She feels our energy.
“More than you can imagine.”
“I would hate to deny you.”
“Good girl. Then don’t.”
The waiter places the Martini glasses in front of us and I lift mine, “Good to see you again.” And I hope she can see how sincere I am.
“Good to see you.” She takes a sip and her nose scrunches up. “This tastes different.”
“They make theirs with rye whiskey instead of bourbon.”
Another two sips and the cherry is no longer submerged. Sierra reaches into the glass and plucks it out. About ready to pop it into her mouth, she catches my eye and smiles. She’s just messing with me. Reaching out, I grasp her slender wrist and slowly pull it to me. Taking the tips of her thumb and forefinger into my mouth, I suck the cherry out from between her fingers and show it to her on my tongue before slowly chewing it, a smile firmly planted on my face.
I’m still holding her wrist and with my free hand, I signal to the waiter for two more.
“We need to talk, Hale.”
I can see she is struggling. We are in such dangerous territory and we escalate there quickly and too easily. She is clearly unnerved and I’m not sure if it’s by her own behavior, mine or what happens when we’re together. Her eyes search mine as if she is hoping to find some truth. I loosen my hold on her wrist and pick up my drink.
“Let me start by first saying something I have yet to say to you. I’m sorry, Sierra. I’m sorry I disrespected you.”
About the Author:
USA Today Bestseller Julie A. Richman is the author of the highly acclaimed NEEDING MOORE SERIES trilogy (SEARCHING FOR MOORE, MOORE TO LOSE & MOORE THAN FOREVER), BAD SON RISING & HENRY'S END. Saddled with the affliction of serious wanderlust, Julie can often be found behind a camera lens in locales from Paris to Alaska.
USA Today Bestseller Julie A. Richman is the author of the highly acclaimed NEEDING MOORE SERIES trilogy (SEARCHING FOR MOORE, MOORE TO LOSE & MOORE THAN FOREVER), BAD SON RISING & HENRY'S END. Saddled with the affliction of serious wanderlust, Julie can often be found behind a camera lens in locales from Paris to Alaska.
I used to have them—before the nightmares started.
I dreamed of nice guys, love…normalcy.
Things like reading the Sunday paper in bed with my lover.
But who needs dreams when your reality is filled with a string of faceless dominating men in uniform? Men that pack a thick bulge and are only too happy to satisfy my deviant sexual cravings.
Me. That's who.
And then HE walked through the door and shared with me, a total stranger, his intimate dream of love. Damn him for verbalizing every single detail of the dream I buried long ago.
And now I don’t know how I'm going to live without that dream.
Or him.
Teasers:
Henry's End Book Trailer:
Excerpt #1:
Holding eye contact with the man, meeting the challenge head on, Henry didn’t flinch. He wanted him to know that he was aware that he was being watched. The energy between the two was sharp and direct. There was no mistaking that contact had been made, and Henry could feel his stomach cramping with excitement, and his balls tightening with desire. This was a man he had dreamed about his whole life. He exuded absolute power. Envisioning him in uniform made Henry inexplicably ache even more.
Definitely a Marine, he thought. A lieutenant? A captain? This man gave orders and expected them to be followed. He commanded. Demanded. And received.
Turning away, Henry made his way through the crowd in search of the bathroom. Mostly he needed his air back and a moment to process what had transpired. He knew that wasn’t all in his head.
The man hadn’t just cruised him.
He’d claimed him.
Heading into the bathroom, the site of an open stall door felt like an immediate godsend and he needed to get behind it, alone. Quickly.
It happened so fast, he wasn’t quite sure how it occurred. Entering the stall, he turned to close the door but was propelled against the metal stall wall to his right, knocking the air out of him. He heard the muffled sound of the stall door latch being locked. The larger man pinned him with his body, his muscular chest pressing Henry flush against the cold metal. The cool smooth surface felt good against his hot, sunburned cheek. Henry could feel the man’s cock pressed against his ass crack on the outside of his bike shorts and wondered if the guy’s cock was still in his pants or not. It wasn’t until that moment that he realized the man had him in a loose choke hold. He didn’t feel fear, and somehow instinctually knew this guy wasn’t going to hurt him. He was establishing his control and position.
With lips next to Henry’s ear, his voice was little more than a growl. “Is that what you want? Little boys? Little boys that will never satisfy you? Is that what you want?” His sizable cock pressed harder against Henry’s ass. With his free hand, the man reached around to the front of Henry’s bike shorts and found exactly what he was looking for – a hard, excited cock. Giving it a squeeze through the slippery material of his bike shorts, Henry hardened immediately to the man’s touch. Continuing to fondle him through the thin fabric, while simultaneously pressing him from behind, the Marine hissed into Henry’s ear, “I asked you a question.”
Brain cells blown away by the physical assault both front and rear, for the life of him, Henry could not remember the man’s question and answered by pressing his junk harder into the guy’s hand, needing to feel possessed by his grasp. He did not disappoint Henry as he squeezed his balls tighter.
“You still want little boys?” he growled, his arm tightening around Henry’s neck.
The moment Henry felt the crook of his arm squeeze his neck, he began to pump himself into the man’s hand, “No. I don’t want little boys.”
“Then what is it you want?” The man had Henry by his cock and was pressing him firmly against his own hard-on, grinding harshly against his ass.
“I want you.”
“Good. And I don’t want you dancing with those boys. Do you understand that?”
Henry nodded his head, yes.
With his hand firmly encasing Henry’s privates, the Marine pressed the smaller man against him and continued to let Henry feel the pressure of his cock against his ass.
Henry leaned his weight back into him, eyes closed. There was nothing in the world except the guy’s hand kneading and pressing his balls. He wanted to stay in the moment forever. Submit to whatever the man wanted from him.
And then he was gone. Leaving Henry against the wall with a raging hard-on and a need to feel the Marine’s hands and cock again, hear his voice, low and raspy, in his ear. Without removing an article of clothing or coming, he had never had a sexual experience that excited him as much, and he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he would always remember the sublime feeling of being restrained by this man.
He wanted more.
Excerpt #2:
Henry was deeply ensconced in his own head, making resolutions about moving on, not paying attention to his surroundings, or seeing the man, as he approached his car. He was leaning against the hood, his thick muscled arms folded across his chest. Calm, cool, collected, in charge and so damn freaking handsome.
“Your place?” was all he said.
Henry felt the sharp stab in his heart as his adrenal glands shot a release of hormones into his blood stream. Shaking his head no, he was shocked at how cool and calm his voice sounded, when he was anything but, “No. I don’t think so. You haven’t even bought me a drink yet.”
Walking around the big Marine to the driver’s side, Henry hit the remote, unlocking the door.
With a palm to the solar plexus to stop him, “Where are you going?” the Marine asked.
“Home,” Henry was very matter-of-fact.
“I thought you wanted me to buy you a drink?”
Stepping around the Marine, Henry opened the door to his black BMW and got in. “I do…” and he closed the door and started the engine.
Rolling down the window, he added with a smile, “… on Sunday.” Gunning the Beamer's engine, he left the Marine in the dusty parking lot with a smile on his handsome face.
Well played, Henry congratulated himself. Let him ache for me as much as I’ve been aching for him.
USA Today Bestselling author Julie A. Richman is a native New Yorker living deep in the heart of Texas. A creative writing major in college, reading and writing fiction has always been a passion. Julie began her corporate career in publishing in NYC and writing played a major role throughout her career as she created and wrote marketing, advertising, direct mail and fundraising materials for Fortune 500 corporations, advertising agencies and non-profit organizations. She is an award winning nature photographer plagued with insatiable wanderlust. Julie and her husband have one son and a white German Shepherd named Juneau.
