Set Up
Hook Up (Coming in 2020)
Slip Up (Coming in 2020)
Sneak Peek of Hook Up
Chapter 1
Aimee
The moment my eyes open and my vision focuses on the unfamiliar ceiling, regret knots in the pit of my stomach.
Shit. I’ve done it again.
Slowly, I slide my eyes to the body warming the other side of the bed, sending up a silent prayer that I didn’t find him living under a bridge out in the woods. Not that I’ve done that, but lately, my whorish tendencies are starting to become unimaginably uncontrollable. Like, “Oh, you have a dick? Can I ride it?” I blame it on my best friend, Brooklyn, and her upcoming wedding.
A smooth tanned and tone back faces me as the covers drape over his hips. No hair or hairy moles. Thank you, God. Relieved, I blink back to the ceiling and lift my wrist to check the time: eight forty-seven.
Shit.
Dropping my hand, I slap my forehead and exhale a breath of both exasperation and self-loathing. I’m supposed to be at Brooklyn’s by nine thirty. And between now and then, I need to wash the filthy whore off me and look presentable.
I’m going to be late.
Not that they expect anything different.
Quietly, I slip out of the bed careful to not wake up…
To not wake up…
I’m drawing a massive blank. No freaking clue what his name is.
My eyes fall shut. “Shit,” I whisper under my breath, cussing my inner whore who raised her whorey legs to the ceiling without so much as getting the name of the dick’s owner.
The hammering throb in my head turns violent every time I bend to pick up a piece of my clothing. Apparently by the way my clothes are strewn around, we were in a bit of a ravenous mood. Remind me to not drink tequila shot after shot when I’m feeling emotional, particularly unloveable and down on myself.
Quietly, I shut the bathroom door and get dressed before trying to tame my ridiculously messy hair with my fingers. I grab a washcloth from a small cabinet above the toilet and clean off the mascara and eyeliner plastered under my eyes. Next, I squeeze a dab of his toothpaste onto my finger and do a survivalist’s job at brushing my teeth. Something is better than nothing, especially when it comes to having fresh breath. Who wants a mouth that feels like you sucked the socks off a homeless man?
No Name begins to stir as I exit to finish gathering my things so I can get the hell out of here.
“Leaving so soon?” He is still groggy from sleep, his voice hoarse and raspy. Not the sexy type of raspy either. More like he needs to clear his throat and take a sip of water.
“I’ve got somewhere I need to be,” I tell him honestly, pausing to look at him.
His hair is a mess, and I’m positive it’s the result of my fingers pulling on it. A thick stubble covers his jaw. His brown eyes darken when he smirks. By the looks of him, we definitely had a good night. “You should come give me a farewell as great as the hello was last night.”
I cringe, casting him another glance as he eye fucks me from my legs to my lips.
“I’ll make it quick, but great enough for you to have a reason to see me again.” He lifts the covers, showing off his impressive boner and massive tiger tattoo on his thigh.
I tilt my head, fake apologies pushing my bottom lip out. “Wish I could, but I’ve got to go. I’m running late as it is.”
“Call me later and we’ll hook up again. Dinner maybe?” Disappointment is clear in his tone and evident in the wrinkles between his brows.
I tug my purse strap over my shoulder and offer a small smile. “Yeah. Sure.”
Yeah, right. I won’t. I never do the same guy twice. Not normally, anyway. And yes. I know how awful that sounds. I’m not truly a whore. I just have whore tendencies that are deeply rooted and proving hard to tame this time around after living through a massive heartbreak. My once-a-month shameless sex has now turned into two. Soon my inner slut will be rubbing her tits all over every man if I don’t manage to rein her in.
Don’t judge me. I haven’t always been like this. I crammed my whore away in high school when I met and fell in love with William—my now ex-asshole-cheating-bastard-boyfriend. Eight months ago, he shattered me. I thought he was proposing. He started with a sincere “I love you” but followed it with the infamous but and dropped the bombshell. He admitted to cheating on me for months and said he was in love with the stupid cock-sucking homewrecker. As he broke my heart, he released the monster inside of me, and my inner whore came springing out of hiding like a cramped genie whose lamp was rubbed the right way.
How I’m choosing to heal is absolutely none of anyone’s business. I’m enjoying myself. New dicks—all types of dicks with different shapes and varying sizes in lengths, girth, and experience. Sweaty nights and if I’m lucky, fantastic orgasms.
See? Healing. Empty, no commitments, sex.
The rest of Hook Up will be coming soon in 2020!
To My Readers
A special thank you. Without you, I am nothing and my characters sit around and mope. Thank you for taking a chance on me, on my characters, and on my stories.
Thank you for all your love and support.
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Acknowledgements
This is the hardest part of the entire book. Yep. I can write a story, draw you in, but when it comes to acknowledgements, I’m a staring at my blinking cursor. Not because I don’t have anyone I am grateful for, but because I’m petrified I’m going to miss someone.
And I always do.
Inhale… okay. Here we go.
To my husband: I loveff you. Thank you for putting up with my long days and my characters taking all the attention you deserve.
Angela: Thank you for your unwavering support, the shoves, the pep talks, and the huffs. I’m positive I wouldn’t be where I’m at without you in my corner. You are the best! Love ya, Hooker.
Harper Bentley: Your friendship means the world to me. Thank you for the support, the brainstorming sessions, the cracking up, the deep discussions, and our “isms.” I lobe you bunches.
Amanda: What started out as a business relationship quickly blossomed into a friendship I never want to lose. You are very much my sister and when we meet, the world will not be ready for it.
Fran & Megan (the best betas ever!): I adore you both so much. Thank you for pushing me to strive and to always produce my best. And I wholeheartedly appreciate your support, both professionally and personally. Your friendship means a lot to me.
Ivy Love: Weirdo. LOL
Carla: You are my favorite pain in the ass.
To all the bloggers: You are the rockstars. Without you working so diligently and promoting us, our “babies” wouldn’t be loved nearly enough. Because of that, I’m so grateful for you. Thank you.