Do you want a chance to win a FREE copy of RRR's upcoming novella Irish Whiskey?
What is Irish Whiskey, you might ask...
It's an expansion of my romantic, dual-POV, spicy, short story published on Spillwords.com about Sarah, a down-on-her-luck bar owner, who's experienced several years of dramatic trauma with her husband and is barely treading water. And Jameson, a rough-and-tumble Irishman, who recently immigrated to the States to escape a series of bad life choices.
When they meet, she feels an instant attraction that has her questioning everything she believes defines an honorable woman. And he falls into instant lust and quickly determines he won't rest until he makes her understand she deserves more than what she's settling for.
See this excerpt below for a spicy sneak peek...
"“Whatever!” I huffed, pushing myself off the bar in an attempt to reign in the lusty thoughts I couldn't seem to stop having about the Irishman, who just happened to be named after my favorite whiskey. “Last call was over an hour ago, the bar closed ten minutes ago, and I'm married. So close out your tab and move it along, you’re barking up the wrong tree.”
“I think I’m barking up just the right tree, Love.” He slowly strode around to my side of the bar, stopping less than a foot from me. “I think you want me every bit as much as I want you.” He lightly brushed his fingers up my forearm. “I think you’re burning for me.” He jerked on my wrist, crashing me into his chest, as he squeezed one arm tightly around my waist. Whispering against my neck, his hot breath skated tingles across my entire body. “I think you want me to fuck you right here on this bar like you’ve never been fucked before.” He brushed his lips ever-so-lightly across my neck as his grip tightened, crushing my stomach against his huge package. “I think you’re as wet for me as I am hard for you.”
I yanked myself from his grasp, my stomach immediately twisting into knots as I longed to be back in his warm grasp, but I did my best to act unaffected.
He wasn’t wrong. I was completely wet for him. And every nerve in my body wanted him to fuck me like I hadn’t been fucked in at least the last three years since my husband disappeared. Hell, who am I kidding? Jameson would likely fuck me better than I’d ever been fucked before because it wouldn’t be that hard."
Want a chance to read the whole deliciously juicy story of Sarah and Jameson? Subscribe to my newsletter today and order soon on Amazon Kindle!
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