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Author Links:
Website: lindsaypaige.com
Twitter: twitter.com/lindsaypaige11
Facebook: facebook.com/authorlindsaypaige
Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/authorlindsay/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authorlindsaypaige/
Lindsay has written the following books/series:
Bending Under Pressure
Bold as Love series
Bracing for Love series
Carolina Rebels series
Don’t Panic
Sanity series
Without a Doubt
You Before Me
She has co-written t
he following series:
The Penalty Kill trilogy
Oh Captain, My Captain series
The Ninth Inning series
Here’s a sneak peek of Because It’s You, which includes a prologue and the first chapter. Please note that this is not the final version. There may be changes/differences between this and what is included in the final version of Because It’s You.
THIS IS UTTERLY ridiculous. How did I let Sylvia talk me into this? She’s given me space, but I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not. All I’ve done so far is stand at the bar, order drinks, and drink them. Well, I keep pulling my dress down too. It shouldn’t even be called a dress.
Sylvia’s bright idea was to put me in a piece of green cloth that starts across my breasts and ends two inches from my ass. I feel like either a nipple or cheek is about to pop out and flash everyone at any second. My dress is layered with green leaves and vines. I’m wearing green fish net stockings, a red pair of stilettos, or hooker heels as I deemed them, and a mask over my eyes that has leaves over it. I’m even wearing a red wig. I’m supposed to be Poison Ivy from one of the Batman movies, but I feel like a pile of leaves with a touch of Christmas with all the red going on.
It’s bad enough she wants me to start dating again, but to insist I come to this Halloween party hosted by one of Scott’s friends is crossing the line! No, the line was crossed when she dressed me in this...this...thing! Sure, my boobs look good, but that’s what happens when you’re wearing a lacy push up bra, because yes, she even bought my undergarments. My face had to be as red as the wig on my head when I saw that was included in the bag. On top of everything else, the wig is making me hot. It seems hot in here anyway. The last thing I need is to start sweating.
My dear sister-in-law is out of her mind. She said she just wants me to look great and have fun, but she’s hoping I get laid.
Fat chance of that happening.
She couldn’t pay me to have sex with someone. How many times does she need to hear, “I’m not ready,” before it gets through that thick skull of hers? Apparently, more times than I feel like saying it.
Needing a break from the noise, I carefully walk to where I think the bathrooms are. I wear heels often enough, but none this high. I’ve been drinking tonight as well. I need to be extra careful to avoid falling. When I find the hallway, I begin to feel dizzy, so I lean against the wall. If I’m not careful, I’ll move the wrong way and my dress will expose either my top or my bottom. Not thirty seconds pass with my hand on my forehead when a door squeaks.
“Are you okay?”
