Title: Why HER?
Series: Mistaken Identities #2
Author: Rie Warren
Genre: May/December Romance
If you believe in second chances . . .
All I did was dance with her at a bar. Just once.
Then this undeniably gorgeous party girl, Stevie, turns up at my house, the contractor in charge of my remodel.
Ha!
How am I supposed to take her seriously?
The problem is she’s excellent at her job, which aggravates me even more.
She’s changing my house, changing my life, and my animal urge to protect and possess her feels like a betrayal to my deceased wife.
She’s absolutely unsuitable.
He’s uptight, f*** hot, and there’s no way she can compete with the ghost of his wife.
A book full of filthy sex and beautiful tortured romance. Why Her? is a standalone novel with a tear-worthy HEA, no cheating, no cliffhangers, just all yes. Keep the fan handy, you’ll need it.
I’D RUSHED OUT IN such a hurry after almost kissing Kane again that I’d gotten all the way home before I realized I’d forgotten my laser level at his house. It wasn’t one hundred percent necessary I retrieve it tonight, but my dad’s rules were nailed into my head, and number one above all was his creed to treat your tools like your job depended on it.
Kane’s cool as fuck Mercedes was in the driveway, and I thought about knocking, but he’d already scolded me a few times about that, so I slipped inside and headed toward the kitchen where I’d last seen the digital level.
“Fuck, Stevie.” Kane’s deep voice stopped me dead in my tracks.
I thought he’d heard me enter the house, and I was just about to jump around the corner of the living room to explain I’d forgotten my level when he growled out, “Suck my cock.”
Ohhhhh.
Oh my God.
Heat flushed my body in an instant. With a hand covering my mouth, I tiptoed through the entryway and peeked into the living room.
Oh my fucking God.
Kane sat in a large leather chair, head thrown back.
Tie askew.
Shirt unbuttoned.
Sculpted tanned chest covered in soft-looking sooty-colored hair that arrowed to a thin line along his abdominals before . . .
Pants open, and Oh. My. God. COCK.
Oh Jesus Christ.
Kane was hung.
He gripped a fat, furiously hard dick in one large hand, pulling up on the veined beast until his knuckles butted the head. A large head that was dark and swollen and slick.
Mouthwatering.
Not to mention the pure filth pouring from his mouth.
“Take it deeper, baby,” Kane ordered the me he clearly fantasized about, and I imagined crawling up to him, taking that incredibly hard cock all the way into my throat.
I bit down on my lip, straining to go to him, knowing I shouldn’t watch him.
Helpless to do anything but.
Arousal skittered to my pussy in a flash. Liquid seeped from my cunt. Swollen nipples puckered beneath my bra. I wanted to slip a hand between my thighs to relieve the tingling ache as goose bumps erupted across my flesh.
Wet sounds echoed from Kane’s long slow strokes. More precum poured out and his whole cock glistened with each snick snick snick.
Kane Bishop.
Suave. Distinguished. And absolutely dirty.
His grip tightened at the thick base, and his other hand trailed lightly up and over the long length, fingers swirling across the tip then cruising back down faster.
Until he drew his hands away to clench the arms of the chair, a grunt parting his lips.
“Don’t wanna come to soon.”
I couldn’t move. The slick lips of my pussy rubbed together. Wiggling a little, I tried not to make a sound even though a whimper crawled up my throat.
He was magnificent when he went back to pumping his cock in a two-fisted hold that started out loose at the root then closed over the swelling purplish head.
Large hands.
Probably hot hands.
Rough hands that had barely grazed my breasts earlier.
“Yes. Lick my balls.” He lifted the weighty-looking sac and ran a thumb down the center, separating each testicle.
I covered my mouth with a hand, almost crying out with lurid need.
Rie is the badass, sassafras author of Sugar Daddy and the Don’t Tell series–a breakthrough trilogy that crosses traditional publishing boundaries beginning with In His Command. Her latest endeavors include the Carolina Bad Boys, a fun, hot, and southern-sexy series.
A Yankee transplant who has traveled the world, Rie started out a writer—causing her college professor to blush over her erotic poetry without one ounce of shame. Not much has changed. She swapped pen for paintbrushes and followed her other love during her twenties. From art school to marriage to children and many a wild and wonderful journey in between, Rie has come home to her calling. Her work has been called edgy, daring, and some of the sexiest smut around.
You can connect with Rie via the social media hangouts listed on her website. She is represented by Saritza Hernandez, Corvisiero Literary Agency.
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