Ok if you haven’t read a Erin Nicholas Bradfords series yet you need to head straight over to Amazon and correct this NOW! The 4th book in the series comes out on Tuesday and I have to say that I’m loving it. So here’s a sneak peak at Just For Fun.
Dooley took a moment to appreciate the view when he first stepped into the airport ticketing area. There were, of course, dozens of people milling about but his eyes went immediately to the built redhead standing off to the side of the main doors, checking her watch.
Morgan was dressed down, he supposed. She wore jeans, anyway. But the silky green shirt and black jacket paired with the black heels made her look stylish…and hot.
He took a deep breath. He was on vacation. For the first time in years. With the sexiest woman he’d ever met.
He was going to make the most of this.
He strode toward her, coming up on her side opposite of where she was looking.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, just before he sank his fingers into the glorious ginger hair at the base of her skull, tipped her head and kissed her.
She wasn’t surprised for more than three seconds. She dropped her purse, took the front of his T-shirt in both hands, rose on tiptoe and kissed him back.
It felt like he’d been waiting his entire life to kiss her, and he took advantage. He sucked gently on her bottom lip, and when she opened up with a moan, he stroked his tongue in deep, drinking of her, drowning in her.
When they finally pulled apart they were breathing hard. She stared up at him, seeming dazed.
“Responding like that is going to make you think it’s okay to be late,” she said as she let go of him, straightened her jacket and licked her lips.
“Couldn’t help myself,” he said, pulling the strap of his duffle bag higher on his shoulder.
She looked up at him. “Really?”
He grinned. Like men didn’t want to kiss her all the time. “Really.”
“Just keep it up,” she said, retrieving her purse and extending the handle on her rolling suitcase. “That’s what I need you for.”
“Kissing?Not going to be a problem.”
She gave him a smile that made him want to start all over again. “Be crazy about me, unable to keep your hands to yourself and we’ll be good.”
He watched her first several steps away from him. “Easiest gig ever,” he muttered, starting after her. They went past the ticket counters and he caught up with her at the escalators to the gates. “You already have the boarding passes and stuff?”
“Don’t need boarding passes,” she said over her shoulder. “We’re taking a private jet.”
That pulled his attention from checking out her butt in jeans. “You have a private jet?”
“No, but my boss does.”
He could so get used to traveling by private jet and acting like he couldn’t keep his hands off of her.
The moment they stepped off the escalator, he grabbed her hand, threading his fingers with hers. Three days. He had three days with this woman. He intended to touch her for most of those seventy-two hours.
She didn’t pull away, but slanted him a look. “You’re not afraid of flying are you?”
“Will you sit closer to me if I am?”
“I’ll sit close to you no matter what.”
“Then no, I’m not scared of flying.”
She laughed softly and he found himself grinning.
As they stepped out onto the tarmac, Dooley got his first view of the private jet.
It was small, but sleek. Painted silver, it had Britton in black lettering along the side.
Dooley stopped abruptly, pulling her up short with him. “Britton?” he asked. “Not Jonathan Britton?”
Morgan looked surprised. “Yes, Jonathan Britton. I manage one of his hotels and this trip is to discuss his plans for a new resort.”
It was a fucking small world.
Dooley wasn’t sure what his part in this weekend was exactly, but if it had to do with hotels and resorts, he’d fit right in.
Fifteen minutes later they were seated in the private jet. It could seat six passengers but they were the only ones on board other than the pilot and a flight attendant. Once they each had a drink—beer for him and white wine for her—the flight attendant discreetly disappeared, leaving them alone as the plane taxied and took off.
Dooley turned in his seat to look at her better. The seats were certainly wide enough to get comfortable in. “You said if I showed up you’d tell me why it had to be me going along.”
She took a long drink of her wine, then nodded. “I did say that, didn’t I?”
“It’s not a long flight. You should probably fill me in on what’s going on these three days. What you want me to do. What you’re doing.”
She finished off her wine, then turned to face him too. “You want the long story or the short?”
“You have an hour. Let’s see how far you get.”
He was even more intrigued than last night. He wasn’t sure why. It was a combination of her insistence he be the one to accompany her on this trip, that the trip was into a world he knew well, and just her.
She was unlike the other women he dated. Which was mostly on purpose. He liked girls who enjoyed shooting pool and watching football and thought a movie and burger were just fine on a date. He dated a lot of nurses and therapists and x-ray or lab techs. They were generally sweet, caring professionals, who were smart and low maintenance. Anyone who dealt with broken bodies, a variety of patient backgrounds and blood and other bodily fluids on a daily basis tended to be practical and down to earth. He liked girls with short nails, tennis shoes and ponytails.
Many times it had been pointed out that if he fell for a nurse or therapist he wouldn’t have to worry about them accepting his dad. He’d dated more than one woman who would have been at ease around his father and his needs. But that didn’t make it fair. He didn’t want to be a package deal. Relationships were hard enough.
It was great that Morgan was not a woman to take blood or urine in stride. Her high heels, French manicure and perfect hair would be a constant reminder that he couldn’t think of this as anything more than a weekend fling.
“I’ve been working for Britton for almost three years,” she was saying. “I’ve done a hell of a job with his hotel in Omaha. But I want something bigger and this is my chance.”
He’d only been by the Britton Towers in downtown Omaha. He’d grown up in places like that and they had no draw for him.
“He’s building a new resort and you’re up for manager?”
“I’m one of two people he’s considering. That’s where you come in.”
Dooley leaned his arm on the armrest between them. “I’m listening.”
“The other candidate is Todd Becker. He’s from Minneapolis and he’s…” Her eyes dropped to his beer bottle. “My ex.”
Her ex was up for the same job. Interesting.
“You want to make him jealous while you steal the job he wants? Seems cruel.”
She smiled. “No, I just want to avoid any…complications.”
“Complications like what?” Dooley pressed. It was exceedingly stupid but he was all about showing Todd that Morgan had moved on. And upgraded. Temporarily, of course, but if it kept her out of the other man’s arms—or bed—Dooley was all for it.
“Like left over feelings,” she said, again not meeting his eyes.
“Left over feelings on his part or yours?” He didn’t like the idea she might still want this guy. Which didn’t make any sense at all.
She lifted her shoulder. “Either.”
He reached out and tipped her chin up. “Mostly yours?”
“I don’t have feelings for him,” she said. “I just…find it difficult to…resist him. Physically. Like when he kisses me. Or touches me. Or in bed—”
“I got it,” Dooley broke in. “I understand. Don’t need to hear any more.”
Dammit. She was attracted to Todd.
“So I’m here to what?” he asked.
“Make me want to be with you instead.”
Her eyes went to his lips and he felt electricity arc between them. “I’ll do my best.” His voice dropped to a husky rumble.
“That’s the thing.” She leaned closer and her voice was a little scratchy too. “You don’t have to try very hard. You’re the one who makes it so I can barely remember his name.”
Best thing he’d ever heard.
Cupping the back of her head, Dooley leaned in and claimed her mouth again. The kiss was hot, but lips only. At first. Within a minute though, he was urging her up out of her seat with his hands on her upper arms, then turning her. But she climbed into his lap, straddled his thighs, all on her own.
He peeled her jacket off, their lips never separating, then slipped his hands up under the silky material of her blouse to the silky skin of her back. She arched into him, deepening the kiss, holding his head. As if he’d think about pulling away.
Slipping his hands to the front, he cupped her breasts. He remembered everything about sex with her, in spite of the fact they’d drank plenty while playing at the fake casino tables. He knew her nipples were one key to making her crazy.
His thumbs brushed over the stiff tips and, predictably, she moaned. She wiggled, pulling her shirt up and the cups of the lacy emerald bra down.
Then he had to look. He pulled back. She was exposed to him, breathing hard, her hair rumpled. She looked sexy and a little wild. He loved her creamy skin, her pale nipples, the way his big tanned hands looked holding her waist.
“More,” she whispered hoarsely.
He leaned in and took her right nipple in his mouth, licking, then sucking, pulling a long moan from her.
“I want to make you come,” he said against her breast.
“You’re about halfway there,” she panted.
“I love that,” he rasped. His hand went to the button on the front of her jeans just as the plane hit a pocket of turbulence, jarring them hard.
She let her head fall back, pushing her hair away from her face. “Dammit.”
“Give me two minutes,” he said.
She grinned. “It would only take you one. But this is not the place for it.”
He looked around. “I disagree.”
“We have three days in a penthouse suite at a five-star hotel. I promise you there will be lots of this.”
He licked his lips and looked at her breasts again. “We’re going straight to the hotel right?”
“Definitely.” She pulled her bra up, her shirt down and pushed herself off of his lap. She let out a breath, staring at his mouth. “Definitely.”
There’s having fun… And then there’s falling in love.
It was a chance meeting, a spontaneous, hot moment, a never-to-be-repeated encounter. So when the gorgeous redhead he knows only as Sugar walks into the bar and heads straight for him, Doug “Dooley” Miller knows he’s in trouble. But he’s sure not going to mind.
She needs a date to some swanky something-or-other. He’s a fish-sticks-and-denim guy, but for a woman who’s not afraid to get naughty in an elevator, he can stand a couple days of smoked salmon and Armani.
Morgan James admits she doesn’t really know Doug, but she needs him to keep her mind—and hands—off her ex. A man who, despite the fact he stole her ideas, she’s afraid could charm her into repeating her mistakes. Only Doug can make her forget the weasel exists. Besides, it’s just this one time.
What started as not even a one-night stand has Dooley feeling things that he’s never felt before. And that’s outside of the bedroom. Don’t even get him started on what’s happening between the sheets. Why does he have a feeling that, as far as flings go, they’re doing something wrong? Then again, if they’re falling in love, they might just be getting that right.
Contains a woman who knows what she wants, a man who knows what he doesn’t want, and a proposition that shows them both that they’ve never really wanted anything like this before.