I’m so excited that book two in The Fight Club series, Perv, is now available for pre-order through Amazon! The release date is September 4–just a few weeks left! I also added the blurb and an excerpt on the Pervpage! Here is the except for those of you waiting anxiously for book two:
Mason leaned against the wall outside the women’s room as casually as he could manage. His body wasn’t listening to the commands from his brain, but he hoped everyone else was oblivious to his plight. Especially the woman who had yet to emerge from the restroom.
Jenna Mathews. Holy fuck. Rafe had told him about Jenna. Of course he had. Rafe wasn’t a man to leave out any sort of details about anything. He’d rambled about Jenna’s tiny frame, her long straight dark hair, her smooth white skin. They were simply details about a random chick.
Not anymore. That woman punched him in the gut as soon as he sidled up next to Rafe at the front of the church and lifted his gaze. Whatever she lacked in grace, she made up for in body. At least as far as Mason was concerned.
And God, how he loved the way he rattled her. He grinned to himself alone in the hallway. She’d been interested all right. More than interested. She’d soaked in every inch of his body with her gaze. The blush she wore when she caught his eye was so alluring his cock hardened right in front of the minister.
This was so unlike him. Mason never let a woman get under his skin. But something about Jenna undid him. He still sported a hard-on from hell that wouldn’t go down.
And what was the woman doing in the restroom, anyway? Everyone was gone. Mason had been assigned the job of getting the maid of honor to the rehearsal dinner. He wasn’t sure if he was a lucky bastard or if he would regret this task in a few hours.
Jenna was a looker all right. That wasn’t the issue at all. He wanted her like he’d never craved any woman before from across a room. But she was off limits. Rafe had given him the evil eye when his sweet bride made the suggestion of leaving Mason behind to wait for Jenna, and then Katy had been swept out the door by her family.
“Don’t even think about it,” Rafe had growled. “She’s Katy’s best friend, and I have to live with her for the rest of my life. I can’t have my best friend fucking her in the car and then leaving the pieces for me to clean up.”
Mason had chuckled as he’d leaned casually against the wall where he’d been commanded to wait for Jenna by the innocent Katy. “You know me better than that. I rarely fuck a woman in the back of my car.”
Rafe inched toward him and glared at him hard. “I do know you. And I saw the look on your face when you first laid eyes on her. You had her so flustered, she couldn’t hold on to that ridiculous bow thing.”
Mason grinned. “I can’t help the effect I have on women.”
“Yeah, but you can help your reaction to it. Please, just get her to the dinner and keep your hands to yourself. She’s way too innocent for the likes of you, and I want her delivered in the same shape she arrived here in. Got it?”
“I’m so insulted.” Mason gave a fake gasp. Rafe knew him well enough that the warning was warranted. He sobered. “My dick stays in my pants. Got it.” He nodded.
It was only a half-hour drive to the restaurant, but it was going to seem like hours.
The restroom door finally opened, and Mason stood upright, smoothing his shirt down. What’s the matter with you? You act like a teenage boy on a blind date. Get a grip. “Ready?” His voice sounded crackly. Good grief.
“Yep. Sorry, I…” She didn’t finish the sentence.
He figured he could finish it for her. “I was just trying to pull myself together after you tipped my world upside down when you entered the church.”
For heaven’s sake, Mason. Cocky much?
“No problem. Katy asked me to wait for you and give you a ride.”
“Yeah, she told me.” She finally lifted her gaze to his, nibbling her lower lip on one side and wringing her hands together in front of her.
God almighty she was sexy. He loved how innocent and timid she appeared, and he loved how he affected her even more. She was turned on by him, and he liked it. The way she stood there, with her hands together at her belly button, pushed her breasts high on her chest. She still had the alluring blush he wanted to lick with his tongue. It spread down her face and across her chest. He wondered if it would feel hot to the touch, and he had to force himself to ball his hands into fists to keep from stroking her skin.
His eyes didn’t obey any commands, however. He couldn’t keep from gazing at her cleavage and wondering how low that blush reached. Would her breasts be creamy white? Or would they have the same red flush of embarrassment and arousal?
The dark maroon dress she wore fit her perfectly. It matched his shirt as though they’d known each other and planned to arrive this way. The skirt was short—not so short as to be slutty, but short enough to entice his imagination to wonder what she wore underneath.
She didn’t wear stockings, and he loved the bare expanse of creamy skin on her thighs and down her legs. That also meant her ass was bare underneath, with the exception of possibly a thong. She didn’t wear full panties. He’d watched her ass as she’d left him to head for the bathroom earlier, and there were no panty lines he could detect under her tight dress.
He shook his head to clear his thoughts. “Let’s go then,” he muttered. He stepped to her side and lifted his arm for her to take with her dainty fingers. It seemed like the gentlemanly thing to do. Oh, who was he kidding? He loved the feel of her holding his bicep. He wanted to experience that again. He might not have permission to make love to her in the car, but he wouldn’t deny himself every opportunity to touch her.
At least he could get to know her. Maybe Rafe was wrong about her. Maybe she wasn’t as sweet and innocent as Rafe assumed. Sure. Right.
It was a good thing Mason led her to the car. She stood tall at his side, her head held high, although tall for her was a whopping five four at best. But she stumbled several times, and he could picture her sprawled out on her knees if she hadn’t been holding his arm.
Then again, perhaps it was his fault she was so clumsy.
Mason clicked the key fob for his Camaro and reached for the handle of the passenger side, glad he’d stopped and gotten a car wash earlier. He loved impressing women with the sleek black finish. He was proud of his car, and women always swooned when they saw it.
But not this woman. She didn’t say a word. She bent down and slipped inside as gracefully as possible in her short dress. When she was settled inside, he shut the door and rounded the rear, wishing he’d been short enough to see between her legs as she’d entered. The only glimpse he’d had was in shadows.
Dude. Hands off, remember?
Mason took a deep breath as he entered the driver’s side and started the engine. He turned toward Jenna as he pulled from the lot. “So, Jenna, what do you do when you aren’t in charge of poorly constructed ribbon bouquets?”
She smiled at him with a twinkle in her eye as though she knew a secret. “Actually, I construct them for a living. Glad to know my hard work is appreciated.”
Mason swallowed his tongue. “You what? You make floral arrangements out of bows for a day job?”
She giggled now, a sweet tinkle that made his dick harder. He fought not to adjust himself in the cramped space. Had the interior of the car gotten smaller?
“I’m a florist. So no, not just ribbons. I design arrangements though, usually with actual clipped flowers. I’ll be doing the wedding tomorrow if you want to think up something snide to say before you get there.” She winked at him, clearly proud of herself for making him squirm.
He growled. Dammit.
“What do you do when you aren’t busy gloating about your perfect body and your broad shoulders?” she added.
“Touché.” He chuckled. “That’s fair. I’m an accountant. I work for the same firm as Rafe.”
“Ah, so a numbers guy. Do you keep a spreadsheet for every woman you manage to lure with your good looks and fancy car?”
“Oh, so you did notice my chick-magnet car.” He loved this woman. She was sexy, smoldering hot, and could hold her own in a battle of words. Though those first two might have been the same thing…
“Eh, I’m not much of a car girl, but I can tell you love it.”
“How’s that?” He lifted a brow at her and glanced her way. She sat prim and perfect. Her knees squeezed together, and her hands were folded in her lap. She’d regained some of her composure since earlier.
“It’s in pristine condition. No trash. Freshly washed. Great sound system. You like the seventies and eighties, huh?”
Oh, the music. He reached to turn it down a bit. “Yeah, Rush is my favorite.”
“So, how does a guy who works with numbers all day get so buff?”
Mason inhaled, his chest puffing up at her comment. She hadn’t overlooked a single characteristic about him that normally left women swooning. She just chose to pretend she was unaffected. “I work out. A lot.” More than you can imagine.
When Rafe said to keep his hands to himself, Mason was pretty sure he also meant for him to keep his mouth shut about a lot of things.
“Really? Huh. Couldn’t tell.” Oh, she was all spit and vinegar.
“What about you? What do you do when you aren’t lining up roses?”
“Lining up roses?” She laughed again. “You’re so good with words.”
You have no idea. My words can make you cream your panties if I so choose.
“I read. I jog. Hang with friends. I work a lot of hours.” She looked out the window.
By her body language, he knew she was leaving out several parts of her life—intentionally. What are you hiding, Ms. Jenna the rose girl?
Whatever it was, it couldn’t be as big as his own personal secrets. He was not one who should judge.
Jenna reached for her purse on the floor and rummaged around inside until she produced a hair clip. She lifted both arms and pulled her long straight locks back, twisting the glossy strands into a knot at the back of her head.
“Don’t.” The word slipped out before he could stop it.
She froze, the clip between her teeth, and turned to look at him.
He couldn’t help it. If he was going to spend the evening with her, he wanted to at least have the pleasure of admiring her silky black hair. The librarian look wasn’t going to do it for him. “I like it down,” he muttered. “It’s beautiful.” As he pulled to a stop at a red light, he turned and reached for her wrist, tugging her hand down. “Leave it?”
He was so out of his league here. It had been years since he’d entertained a woman for thirty minutes who didn’t know who and what he was. His words tumbled out haphazardly under the stress.
Women didn’t usually ignore his demands, but this particular woman didn’t know that.
The look she gave him made his vision blur for a moment. She took a deep breath, and the clip fell from her lips to her lap. Her right arm still held her hair in the air, but the locks slowly slipped between her fingers and cascaded back around her shoulders.
Mason ran his hand through a section and leaned in to smell the scent of her shampoo. He closed his eyes and learned her scent, feminine, floral of course.
Someone honked, and he jerked his gaze back to the front and grabbed the steering wheel. He hit the gas a bit too hard, and they lurched forward.
Jenna didn’t comment. She lowered her arm and stuffed the clip back into her purse. She turned her gaze to look out the passenger window. He saw her chest heaving with breaths out of his peripheral vision.
Fuck Rafe and his demands. There was no way in hell he could let this woman go. He’d had good intentions, but for Christ’s sake, she was so damn malleable he wanted to pull over and see what else he could command her to do.
Instead, Mason gripped the wheel harder and concentrated on driving. He might not be able to keep any promise about leaving Jenna alone, but he could at least get her from point A to point B without mauling her in the car. Later…
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