Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28852 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 144(@200wpm)___ 115(@250wpm)___ 96(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | Caught By Daddy - To Go |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | S.E. Law |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
Harlow: The man of the house and I aren’t exactly friendly per se. We live on different floors, so we don’t see each other most of the time. So how was I supposed to know that Sam could hear my music? I was minding my own business doing aerobics … in a bikini … okay, less than a bikini … when the doctor bursts in like a wild man! Creamy curves came flying out, bare and luscious, but what I didn’t expect? That the gorgeous physician liked what he saw. Sam: I more than liked what I saw. I CRAVED what I saw. After all, Harlow’s been growing up fast. Maybe we don’t interact much, but that doesn’t mean I’m blind. I’ve been secretly watching the scrawny teen transform into a sassy, bodacious woman, and now that Harlow’s been caught red-handed … I’m claiming what belongs to me. Note to my readers: Our heroine was the naughty girl at the end of my previous book, Sold To My Boss’s Friends, who was on display at Club Z with buyers sampling her goods while considering a potential purchase! Well, now Harlow gets her own tale and it’s a crazy one where incredibly filthy shenanigans happen because who can resist a man like Dr. White? His thermometer is huge and he’s ready to use it wherever and whenever our heroine needs her temperature taken. Buckle up and get ready for the ride because we’re putting the pedal to the metal with this one! No cheating, no cliffhangers, and always a HEA for my readers. | |
| Books by Author: | S.E. Law |
1
Harlow
I stretch out across my queen-sized bed, dangling my bare feet over the edge of the mattress. A hot breeze blows in through the open window somehow making things even warmer, but I suppose it’s better than nothing. Lazily, I flip through a magazine and a pang strikes my heart because dang it, it’s yet another hot model with a huge, round bubble butt. She’s literally wearing leggings that have the seam that goes down her crack, emphasizing the curvature of her ass. Judging from the sly smile on her face, she loves how it feels too, wedgie or not.
“Will you look at this?” I whine, waving the mag at my friend Ramona. “This is so unfair!”
My friend’s not really listening. Instead, she sips on her lemonade while staring at a magazine of her own.
“Do you think I could pull off bangs?” she mutters while staring at a model on the page who is very “French girl” looking. She then flips the tail ends of her hair over her forehead, mimicking the model in the picture. “What do you think?”
I giggle a little. “Well, you definitely look better than her, but seriously, are you into that French girl stuff? It’s so passé.”
Ramona stares at me. She’s from Chicago, and only here for the summer, so she kind of worships the ground I work on, seeing that I’m a native New Yorker.
“How can French style be passé?” she stammers. “I thought French-girl style was eternal.”
I shrug.
“It is because you know the image of French girls is always young, thin, white, cis, with brown bangs, red lipstick, and a beret tipped jauntily on their head. But these days, Paris is so cosmopolitan and it doesn’t reflect real life anymore. People are really pushing against that stereotype and want to expand the definition of your typical ‘French girl’ look.”
“Oh I see,” Ramona nods, looking down wide-eyed at the magazine spread. “Goodness, I had no idea.”
My friend is the sweetest thing, and I lean in conspiratorially.
“Don’t get me wrong. You’d definitely look better than she does with bangs,” I tell Ramona. “But I wouldn’t do anything too drastic. Maybe try some layers first or something,” I add in an airy tone. “Curtain bangs, maybe? They’re the latest thing.”
Ramona giggles. “Girl, please. My whole summer is one drastic move after another so curtain bangs are not enough. But thanks for tipping me off. Who would have guessed about that French thing?”
I nod and sit up a little, my body feeling sticky from lying against the warm duvet. “Sure, no prob. But what do you mean about drastic? What’s so drastic that’s going on? I mean, of course we’re hostesses at a secret sex club, but … well, yeah, I guess that’s pretty drastic.”