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Make Me Wild
Make Me Happy
Make Me Love You
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
Slow, Hard Pass
Boxsets
Alphas and Virgins - 3 Hot Reads
Alphas and Virgins - 3 Sexy Stories
Make Me - 3 Hot Reads
Make Me - 3 Sexy Stories
Deliciously Dirty
Guilty Pleasures
Foreword
Hey Girl,
Did you ever spend a summer during your youth in a place like the Hamptons? You know, the kind of place where rich people go to holiday, and regular folks end up getting decent summer jobs by waiting tables or filling their yachts with gas? Do yachts need gas? I have no idea, having only seen one once from a distance.
Anyway, I've never holidayed like that, but I've seen lots of movies about it. Think Mystic Pizza or Dirty Dancing, where the divide between rich and poor is glaringly obvious, but romance blooms in spite of the objections on both sides of the happy couple.
Long, Hard Pass is about a rich college boy who's about to be recruited by a pro-football team (think NFL without me saying it and getting my ass sued). Anyway, he meets a poor girl who works at the boat dock in the town where his family vacations. It’s sort of a Romeo and Juliet meets Friday Night Lights only with a whole lot of sex and a very happy ending. Wink. Wink. (Oh, and you’ll need to forget what you know about cell phone voicemail systems and just go with it, okay? Because this is really just for fun, right?)
Okay, so that's it for me. Bend your knees and get your arms out because Ethan Harris is about to make a long, hard pass at you and you'll need your center of gravity to be real low so you don't fall over. Oh, wow. That was my least sexy innuendo yet. But fear not, this story will make up for it.
Peace out,
Adele (Drops mic and stares at the cover of this book for an hour.)
One
Jess
I stand and stare at my boss, Frank Reese, as he goes over the instructions for pumping gas for all the employees. I don't listen to him but I nod every once in a while, and try to maintain eye contact with him, even though he has some sort of scary growth just to the right of his left eye. What is that thing?
Anyway, I don't really need to listen because it's my fourth summer working at the Gas ‘n Go here in Cape Williams, Long Island. I already know not to try to top it up, even if the moron whose yacht I'm filling wants an even dollar amount on his Black Amex statement. I know that I need to smile and ask everyone how their stay in ‘paradise' is going. I know that I'm not allowed to engage in lengthy conversations ‘no matter how cute their daughters are.' (I'm the only girl that works here, so Frank usually forgets to warn me not to talk to their sons. Either that or he thinks I'm a lesbian.
