alright? Five years ago…) I let my boyfriend take, let’s just say…
compromising pictures of me.
well, you can guess what happened. That’s right.
media whenever anyone shares my pictures. You try getting a thousand
notifications a day, all of them pictures of your tatas.
embarrassingly intimate pictures of your jerkface ex who double-crossed you
five years ago?
political roadie’s dream, right? I’m one in a crowd.
after I dumped him five years ago. Begged me to take him back.
emotional feels, doesn’t it?
him in… delicate positions, and bring him down. That’s it. Nothing more.
worse than sexting.
grasp as we kiss is masterful, his hips pivoting until we’re in a tiny closet,
the door shutting behind us, our bodies surrounded by coats. At any second,
someone could walk in, find us, interrupt and embarrass us, but I don’t care as
my fingers grasp his thick, hard chest. He doesn’t care as his hand slides
between my thighs, my need to be touched so great that I moan into his mouth,
biting his lip. He makes a sound that says he needs this, too, his erection
pressing into my hip, the centering of his thickness as he nudges my legs wider
with his knee making me hold my breath as he rubs up, just once, just right,
missed you,” he hisses as his mouth takes my earlobe, sucking gently, then
hard, the tip of his tongue flicking and laving, my clit spasming as it
imagines him doing this between my legs. My fingertips dig into his shoulders,
one hand diving down the length of his abs until I cup his sac, then ride the
ridge of my palm up his long, thick, engorged–
we doing, Parker?” I gasp.
we want,” he says, so steady, so sure, so unabashedly here.
someone calls out from behind the door.
Mallory whisper-yells, her voice breaking through as I clench, my whole body
going tight, the core of me shivering with an orgasm that crashes over me as
Parker’s leg, his mouth, his very presence, make me lose my everloving mind.
writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult
rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she
writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for
a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a
men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with
her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever,