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High Stakes and Hot Heroes Titles
My Toy Boy
My Cocky Cowboy
My Naughty Professor
Bad Boys and Good Girls
Slow, Hard Puck
Fast, Hard Ride
Boxsets
Alphas and Virgins Volume One
Alphas and Virgins Volume Two
Make Me Volume One
Make Me Volume Two
Foreword
Hey Girl,
Recently, I took a trip, and my flight was delayed. I sat in a restaurant corner and made up stories about people. You know the game. The one where you see the younger woman and the older man together and think… sugar daddy? Escort? Yeah, that one where you have her making a hundred bucks an hour in your head.
So, I’m in the corner sipping my first glass of wine. (Okay, my third glass because it’s a long layover—two hours.) Anyway, I see this cute girl. Not cute like a puppy, but cute like someone who’s young enough to still be filled with hopes and dreams of finding the one.
She’s got her head in a book, and it’s an awful book because it doesn’t have a shirtless man on the front. So I’m pretty sure it’s a complete waste of time. Then, this man comes up to her, and he asks if he can join her. By the time they call my flight number, the couple is kissing and… well, of course I had to write their story.
Grab a glass of wine and a book by Chaucer because hey, let’s be honest, you don’t want anyone to know you’re reading about romance and sex and love and sweetness and of course wine. Open the classic, and tuck this baby inside it because hey, sometimes we have to live on the edge and be reckless.
Peace Out,
Adele (Drops mic and guzzles her wine before the flight attendant takes it away.)
One
Katy
“Katy, you look great.” Lisa reaches up and pulls my hair over my shoulders so the wavy strands sit on top of my boobs. “I love this look on you.” She tugs on the half-shirt until my breasts nearly pop out of the top. No matter how I wear the strip of fabric, something is going to show. It’s virtually a decorative ace bandage. Worn too high, and I show my stomach. Worn too low, and the dusky pink of my nipples are at risk of exposure.
As she tugs the shirt down, I tug my skirt up and mentally chastise myself for letting her give me a makeover. “Are you sure this looks good?” I stare down at my outfit, which is better suited for a shift serving beers at The Tilted Kilt than a trip back to college.
Lisa scans the surrounding crowd. “The guy at three o’clock can’t keep his eyes off you.” She looks to her left. “Nine o’clock is lusting after those legs.”
I take a quick look at three and nine. She’s right, their eyes are on me, or rather my boobs, and the place where my skirt hits mid-thigh. “I’m sure they’re just waiting for the peep show to start.”
She pulls her finger to her chin. “Now, that’s a thought. Maybe you can swirl those hips or bend over and give someone a peek for dollars. I know a lot of girls who have done worse things for tuition.” She moves her hands down to my skirt, and she gives it a tug so my midriff shows.
I swat her hands away. “I’m on scholarship. I’m not dancing for dollars.” I glance at Mr. Nine O’clock and watch him pull out his wallet. Mortified that he’ll toss me a single, I yank my sister behind the flight departures sign.
“You look beautiful.” She looks at me like a proud parent, and in all honesty, we basically raised ourselves. I’ve always looked up to her for guidance. “Seriously, Katy, it’s your senior year of college. You’ve had your face buried in books for the last three years. You need to have fun. Getting a makeover is part of that fun. Take your new look, and make some heads turn.”
She walks with me toward security. I have to admit that the new look does turn heads. I take a quick glance at my reflection in a store window just to make sure there isn’t something on my face. I have to concede I look pretty good when I’m fixed up. When my glasses aren’t perched on the end of my nose. When my hair isn’t in a messy bun on top of my head held up by a chewed on pencil.
