Trashy Foreplay by Gemma James is LIVE! Scandalous. Shameful. TRASHY.
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Blurb:
Never flirt with temptation. Never lust after what I can’t have. And never, under any circumstances, screw a married man again. By the time this story is told, I’ll have failed at all three… With my heart and reputation in ruins, I can’t afford to make another mistake. Boarding a flight to Seattle is supposed to give me a clean slate, but from the moment Cash Montgomery slides into the seat next to mine, I’m captivated by his steel eyes that see too much. I ache for this stranger in a way I’ve never ached for anyone. But I didn’t know he was married, and I sure as hell didn’t see the curveball fate had in store. My clean slate in Seattle isn’t so clean after all because my new boss is the man forbidden to me. And the only man I want. The only man I’ll do anything for, even if it means breaking the promise I made to myself when I fled my old life in shame. I wasn’t supposed to fall for a married man, but I did. NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: Though the subject matter deals with cheating, there are no innocent parties here. Book 1 in the Trashy Affair series.Excerpt:
I go perfectly still as his arm snakes around me from behind. A warm palm flattens against my stomach, and the tips of his fingers inch beneath the waistband of my jeans. Everything south of that tempting hand flares to life, setting off a deep ache I know only he can fix. Pulling me against his body, he leans down and whispers into my ear. “Watching him touch you is killing me.” “Knowing you’re married is killing me.” He curses under his breath. A hint of his woodsy cologne, along with the sweet aroma of bourbon fills my nostrils. “Have you been drinking?” “Maybe a little.” He whirls me around until we’re face-to-face, and my heart flutters in my throat as he tightens his arms around me. “Come upstairs with me.” His proximity riots through me, the heat of his body sizzling all the way to my fucking toes. We fall into a lazy sway, dancing but not quite, and for a crazy second, I consider following him to the VIP area in the loft. As far as I can tell it’s empty unless a stray couple is hiding in the shadows in the very back. I doubt it though. The club is vibrating with restless energy as everyone crowds the first floor in anticipation of the concert. “Look at me, Jules.” His words jolt me to awareness, and I realize I’m staring at his chest. I curl my hands into fists at my sides, too tempted to run my palms down that broad expanse hiding underneath cotton. I bet it’s the softest material on the planet, but I won’t find out because I’m not going there. Nope. Not. Gonna. Do. It. Because I have zero control right now, and we’re standing in the middle of a busy club with God-knows-who watching. And if I do touch him…I might not stop. “Jules,” he murmurs. “Bring those gorgeous eyes up here.” I lift my chin and dive headfirst into the fire of his gaze. His eyes are a smoldering, liquid steel. “Cash…please…” “Please what?” “Don’t make me want to give in. You’re married.” My voice cracks on that ugly word. “My marriage is a sham.” “Your marriage is your business.” I grip his arms, intending to push him away. But somewhere along the way, my brain gets its wires crossed, and I end up curling my fingers around his biceps. God, he’s built—solid man through and through. “I disagree,” he says, dipping his head until our mouths linger a hairsbreadth from each other. “Everything about me is very much your business.” “W-why?” “Because I can’t feel this way about you without it being your business.”
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