Total pages in book: 26
Estimated words: 24257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24257 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 121(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
The kiss deepens, and after a moment I feel the tip of Hunter’s tongue touch my lips. Feeling a heat building between my legs, I open my mouth to allow it to snake in, letting out a little gasp as Hunter slides an arm around my waist to pull me closer. Is this really happening? Am I, Frankie Fordham, the shyest, curviest girl in Granite Heights actually being kissed by a mysterious stranger at a dirty party?
Half of me wonders if I’m going to wake up any minute.
Hunter pulls back, and the look in his eyes is unmistakable. Lust. Not for any of the hotter, skinnier girls at the party. For me.
“Do you want to get out of here?” he asks, his eyes flickering from mine back to my lips.
“You mean, like, to get a drink?” I ask, feeling both breathless and stupid.
He chuckles, those blue eyes gleaming.
“I like you, Frankie.” Then he’s nodding in the direction of the stairs leading to the second floor. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice heavy with desire.
I stare at him for another moment and then nod, all doubts I’ve been having blown away by the look of desire in his gorgeous blue eyes.
“Okay,” I breathe. “Let’s go.”
OMG, is this really happening? Am I letting a gorgeous man I’ve just met sweep me upstairs for a good time? I guess so because it’s the new Frankie Fordham. I’m now a curvy, sassy girl who’s going to explore with a handsome stranger as my guide.
2
Hunter
It usually takes more than a pretty face to get my attention, and tonight is no exception. I’ve always been proud of the fact that I’m hard to impress, both inside and outside of my business dealings. Between my dad, a powerful man with his fair share of suitors knocking at his door, and everyone at New York University who thought that coming from money would make me a pushover, I’ve developed a pretty thick skin. It’s part of the reason that, at age thirty, I’m already in charge of a multi-million dollar business empire. I’m discerning in my tastes, and proud of it.
Thinking about it, I guess that’s what drew me to play parties in the first place. I was first introduced to the scene back in New York, where there’s practically a new club or BDSM show for every block. It started as a way of easing the stress of work, especially when dating was never really my thing. But over time, it became something of a hobby for me. There’s a sense of adventure in showing up at someone else’s house, full of anonymous strangers who were ready to unleash their most carnal desires. No strings attached, no stress about customers, sales quotas, or employees. Just simple physical pleasure.
What’s not to like?
I find myself thinking about this as I climb out of my low-slung sports car, which I intentionally parked a few blocks down so as not to draw too much attention. Some people might call the car overly-flashy, but it has killer speed - a must for the drive from New York to the Heartland. Besides, I’m the kind of guy who enjoys the finer things in life. I guess it runs in the family.
Tucking my hands into my pockets, I head up the driveway to the front door. Tonight’s host is a girl named Cassie I got to know through some mutual connections back in NYC. Running a hand through my hair, I push the doorbell, waiting as the sound of voices on the other end grows louder. A thin, brown-haired girl opens the door, and her eyes light up when she sees me.
“Well, well,” Cassie says, giving me a coquettish smile, “Hunter Martin, founder and CEO of Revival Footwear. You know, when I heard you were interested in coming, I almost didn’t believe it.”
“Believe it,” I growl, grinning at her. “Mind if I come in?”
She looks like she’s drinking me in with her eyes, biting her lip as she gives me one more appreciative glance before pulling the door open wider. I step inside the house, nodding as I take in the decor. This is clearly someone who’s been on the scene for a while.
“Feel free to take your clothes off,” Cassie sings, her eyes sweeping over me once more as she leads me into the living room. “There’s champagne in the kitchen, if you want it. Otherwise…” She spreads her arms, looking around the room. “What happens here stays here.”
“I can appreciate that,” I say, nodding as I watch the others. Most of them are halfway undressed already, and the majority of party goers haven’t even showed up yet. For a moment I debate whether I should just dive right in, but ultimately decide against it. The evening is young, and I don’t want to burn out before I’ve really had a chance to savor it. I made that mistake the first time I went to one of these things.