February 08, Tags: autumn pdf, autumn by ali smith, autumn epub, autumn mobi, autumn kindle, autumn read online, autumn download, autumn read online pdf, autumn online pdf, autumn pdf online, autumn download pdf, autumn book download, autumn online. Enter Natalie. Hot, sexy, smart, and my new assistant. Which makes her totally off limits Hey, I'm a good guy. I do my best to stay far away from the kind of temptation she brings to work. Until one night in Vegas Yeah, you've heard this one before.
Bad news on the business front, drowning our sorrows in a few too many Harvey Wallbangers, and then I'm banging her. In my hotel room. Out of the blue. Even after the passwords were changed. Like a total lunatic. Yeah, it was shitty. It cost me business. Right, bro? Oh shit, that reminds me.
Nick, can you handle the dogs on Friday? A client is flying me out. It sounds like an awesome job. Really hoping it comes through. When Charlotte moved out and married Spencer, she rented her old pad to her sister, giving her a break on rent so Natalie could live in the city and teach night classes at a karate studio here.
Nick shakes his head, laughing. Vegas sign. A gondola ride. Bellagio Fountains. She points to both of us. I know exactly what the two of you are like. I grew up with you troublemakers, remember? I grab my shades from my T-shirt neckline and drop them over my eyes. I do the opposite from you. We sidestep a jogger in neon pink leggings while cabs and cars chug along on the avenue. You only say that when you want a girl.
Words never used before to describe my little brother. He pushes his glasses higher and nods slightly. You have some selfcontrol. But I believe it. I have to. Especially when three days later, I get on a private jet with Natalie Rhodes, temptation made flesh, the All-American black belt with a tongue of iron fire. As she settles down into a beige leather seat and crosses her legs, she shoots me a smile. That sweet, sexy smile.
Fuck, being a good boy is way overrated. I want to be bad with her. The leather seats that recline all the way. The impeccable service, including a three-course lunch. A quiet ride in the lap of luxury next to Natalie.
Lila snoozes in her seat across the aisle. She popped a Xanax. I do a double take. Silky red hair, full lips, and warm brown eyes, along with a tight, trim figure. But then, all thoughts of her fall out of my head. I shift my focus to Natalie, letting her decide. I should have tracked you down long ago. I would never have taken on all the crummy jobs I had before. Her gumption did. She arches an eyebrow. Then I school my expression and do my damnedest to act unfazed.
We did it all, but we specialized in furries and feet. Maybe both. Mostly turned on, though. She nods several times. They want to hear you walking around in your heels. They like the sound they make on a hard wood—pun intended—floor. I scrub a hand across my jaw. This is a whole new side to Natalie.
Red ones. With her legs wrapped around my waist as I fuck her against the wall. You pretend to be wearing a full fox suit. Or sometimes a squirrel outfit. Raccoons were also popular.
But mostly a sexy squirrel. That was the favorite. Crazy, huh? Then I think fuck it. Maybe a little. Josie told me. She grunts as she reels it in, then I set my foot down on the ground and knock fists with her. Dinner is on me tonight. But everything I said is true. I never said I made the calls. And I do know all that because I did work for a phone sex company.
I screened the girls who wanted to work for us, set up the schedules, made sure they were paid, logged all the calls. It was weirdly fun. She punches my bicep playfully. I love dogs, and paws are awesome, but when it started conflicting with my schedule at the dojo in the evenings I had to let it go.
Administering a side-kick to the head. For a flash, I see something in them. I blink then look away. She lowers her arm, placing her hands in her lap. I had a lot of energy, and it was a great place for me to burn it off. I grew to love it. The techniques, the skills, and most of all, the fact that you can always improve.
In this moment, she seems to be shedding a layer that was between us—the boss-assistant one, maybe—as she ventures into more personal territory. My favorite is the self-defense part.
I really want to keep teaching women self-defense and using martial arts for that. And I will. Then a soft smile curves her lips, spreading until it turns into a yawn. A huge open-jawed yawn. She brings her hand to her mouth. A little after that, her head slides to my shoulder. Yes, it turns me on. And yes, my mind is filled with a reel of images of where her head could be if she woke up, shifted a few inches, and opened her mouth wide.
Soon enough, we begin the descent into Las Vegas. Ah, fuck. She noticed the banana in my pocket. I cycle through a litany of potential excuses for sporting wood during her afternoon lap nap when my eyes follow her finger. The huge wet spot that could only be caused by— She brings a hand to her chest. When she comes up empty, I peer around, spotting it on the floor by my feet, where it must have fallen while she slept. What way, I wonder? This building is one of the tallest in town.
Mayweather—why not find someone local? Any contractor would be glad to work in this gorgeous space. But do you know how hard it is to find someone you trust? To let them into your home? Especially in a new city? From her unsaid words, I get the feeling Lila has encountered some bad apples previously. After graduation, she encouraged me to start a handyman business, became my biggest cheerleader, and helped brainstorm a business plan.
She was like a koala bear who turned out to be an alligator. Means a lot. A local philanthropist, Sophie Winston, is going to help me set it up. Will it be too hard to manage the work from afar? The style is modern and clean. White walls, simple furniture, and light hardwood floors. The kitchen, by contrast, is a mismatched mess, like a drunk monkey designed it while noshing on a spiked banana.
She exits purposefully, her closed laptop in her hands, scribbling on a notepad on top of the computer. You can use all your regular suppliers in New York and fly everything out on my plane.
Jesus fucking Christ. She is a fairy godmother. Natalie stands next to me. I talked to a friend who runs Edge, a nightclub here. I can manage it all remotely, and Wyatt can be on-site to do the work. Do you have a sense if you can meet the budget? The number has many zeros and nearly unhinges my jaw.
The doors close with a soft whoosh, and I turn to my assistant. I laugh. Twenty percent. I will need to pay you extra for this.
I pretend to torque it into a corkscrew. I let go. The raise starts today. Thanks to Lila. And you smell fucking amazing. And you feel spectacular. And I am a motherfucking master of self-control because all I want to do is hit the stop button, hitch your leg around my hip, and screw you hard. Her eyes are lit like sparklers. Like the kind you see on YouTube.
I want them to be well-produced, and I think if they are, I can attract new students to my classes. Are you shooting them yet, or still in the planning process? I grab her arm. Dreams never are. Now you can go after them the way you want. All of that from the curve of her lips, the way her blue eyes light up, how her entire face glows.
To remember the alligators. I start by releasing her arm. Before I can show off my mastery of self-control, the unfiltered portion of my brain wrests control. We reach the revolving door and head into the Vegas afternoon sun for the quick walk to the Bellagio.
Natalie points in the direction we came. When we first stepped into the elevator and you said can I just say it? But you heard what she said. At work. In life. With women. I need to stop thinking of banging Natalie in elevators, and, on that same note, of missing her.
Natalie is just an employee. Nothing more. I look at my watch. How about an early dinner, some drinks, and an estimate? Natalie is already two drinks in—mojitos are her choice tonight. Most of the time, she demonstrates the moves on me. Whatever the reason, the outcome is all good in my book—her hands on me. But then, everything is good right now, because the job is a big green go, and we are celebrating. We worked up an estimate when we returned to the Bellagio. Natalie emailed it to Lila.
The first check will be deposited on Monday. She wears a red skirt with some kind of surreal flower pattern, black heels, and a silky black top. The heels are hot, but flip-flops would have fit the bill, too.
Some gentlemen prefer blondes, some dig redheads, and some go bananas for women with exotic looks. I went there again. I blink away the not-safe-for-work thoughts and try to come up with a generic topic to riff on to get my mind back into the good-guy zone. Maybe what invoices we need to file. Or new tools to order. The dude is Brooks Brothers all the way from the navy suit to the loosened red tie.
I tip my forehead to a Goth-looking woman with earplugs and the tattooed guy next to her, knocking back shots. He smacks her ass with a crook.
But to find them I need another drink. As he sets to work pouring, she parks her chin in her hand, looking straight at me. Want to know why?
She fishes around for it and clutches it close to her chest like a precious thing. This second, that is. Ten seconds ago I totally was. She slides open the screen, and her expression transforms. She sounds frustrated.
My heart pounds against my rib cage, and worry takes root. She opens her eyes and speaks in a monotone. She nods. Mayweather had a deal on another property that just went south.
Sadly, I have to put the Vegas remodel on hold. The tickets are in your email. I hope the service is sufficient. My best, and we will regroup soon. Fuck a motherfucking flock of ducks. This stings. I grab the vodka tonic and down half in one big gulp.
She does the same with hers. And that does it for me. I need to make Natalie happy again, and that will also take my mind off this shitty news. I park my hands on both her shoulders. But right now, right here, we have fun. Got it? I know it was conditional on the Mayweather job. You name it. It was a ridiculous, overpaying, crazy job. It was too good to be true. You said it earlier. Lila knows that. This is just a snag.
Deals fall apart. Hell, Nick goes through this with his job. And tonight? I search the bar quickly, and my eyes land on a middle-aged man in a turquoise tropical shirt, and a woman wearing a matching one. I arch an eyebrow. I want to know. I give her a pointed look. Spank you with a crook? Do it every night? In a car. On a plane. Anywhere and everywhere and every night. No hang-ups for this guy. Just like that. And I think handcuffs, doggie style, public sex, and spanking are just fine and dandy.
No more sad Natalie tonight? She takes it and we shake. She reaches for her vodka tonic, her elbow knocking her phone closer to me. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her text messages. The one from Lila is the most recent. I want him so badly. I tap her glass. She says one word. How did we get from not kissing to kissing? What was that turning point? Did she lean into me? Did I move closer to her? Details matter.
Start with six months of sexual tension. Add in two mojitos for her, two beers for me, and a couple vodka tonics. Nothing is tentative about this. We go from not kissing to kissing in less than sixty nanoseconds.
But it happens in no time. And now my hand is in her hair, yanking her close as we crush our lips together. We kiss hard and rough, fueled by pent-up desire and more than enough vodka and rum to make this inevitable. Her teeth scrape me, and I growl, loving her roughness. I grip her head tighter, and her hands are all over me—in my hair, then down my chest, then along my arms. I hold her face tightly in my hands, and she practically crawls into my lap in a rush to get closer, then closer still as she presses her tits against my chest.
My tongue searches and hunts, wanting to taste every corner of her mouth, savoring the vodka and the tonic and, most of all, the Natalie. She whimpers and moans, and I swallow every sexy sound she makes. This stool is ours. This bar is ours. It contains all the clues necessary to assemble the puzzle of where this night will end.
With unwavering certainty, I know what kind of kiss this is. Oh yes.. Nothing can go wrong in Vegas! I love Lauren. I love her books. I love her imagination and the characters she creates. Though, they are total men. There are so many hilarious moments. Even more intense, sensual, passionate and wild moments. The chemistry of these characters, is on another level. Lauren does it so well, you would've thought she was the first to ever write it.
Her stories are easy to read, easy to enjoy, and really easy to fall in love with. All the elements are there in this story, to make it one of the best No idea how I found this book but it was surprisingly hilarious.
I was laughing out loud thru half of it and the male perspective was really refreshing. This was a hot, sexy, fun book, that takes the reader on a hot, hilarious adventure! Lauren Blakely is a fantastic author! I literally could not put this down!
I never expected it to end the way it did and as beautiful, romantic, funny, and just all around great read I had to pre-order the rest of the series!!! I will be recommending this to all my friends!! More by Lauren Blakely. Big Rock Lauren Blakely 4. Night After Night Lauren Blakely 4. Burn for Me Lauren Blakely 4. The Sexy One Lauren Blakely 4. Nights with Him Lauren Blakely 4. Come and Get It Lauren Blakely 3. Most Irresistible Guy Lauren Blakely 4.
Most Valuable Playboy Lauren Blakely 4. Special Delivery Lauren Blakely 4.
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