by Havana Scott
“I do excel at my job, don’t I?” He pinches my chin and leads us to his car. “Let’s go celebrate. Wherever you want, Blondie. My treat.”
I scoff. “It’s always your treat, baby. I don’t make money yet.”
“Yet,” he says, smiling. “Soon, you’ll make more than me.”
After a delicious dinner at our favorite sushi restaurant, we take a long drive through the Hollywood Hills, stopping to enjoy the various views of the city at night. How my life could have turned out so differently will always amaze me. Just one degree to the left, or two degrees to the right, and everything changes. That’s the theory of chaos for you, and I feel I chose wisely.
You hear of people who stuck to their original goals after college only to realize years later how utterly miserable they were. I cringe when I think about how I was almost one of them. Here, I feel at home. Both in LA and Roman’s arms. Parked in total darkness down the street from a rather large, rather amazing mansion in party mode, Roman takes my hand and presses it to his face.
As we listen to the sounds of crickets through the open window, an ocean breeze blows through, and Roman nibbles on each of my fingertips. The warmth of his lips in the chilly air makes my skin perk up. I can’t stop watching his mouth. My eyes are riveted. Such a gorgeous mouth.
He sees me staring at him and raises an eyebrow. “How many times have we done it in the car now?”
“Twenty-seven.” I watch his sensuous lips in the dim light of the car, the way they open just slightly, letting his tongue slide out. A familiar electric current sparks throughout my body. It never gets old.
“But who’s counting?” He smiles. “Do you remember the first time?”
“On the roof of your car? Um, yes? It was super hot. You think I could ever forget?”
“It was the hood of the car, not the roof, Blondie. The roof would’ve raised a few eyebrows and it would’ve been hilarious if you’d fallen off.” He laughs, breaking the sexy moment for a second, then he closes in on me for a hot, deep, knee-weakening kiss. He cracks up mid-kiss. “The roof of the car,” he mumbles.
“Okay, you know what I meant. Stop. You know what? Since you’re making fun of me, you’re not getting your blowjob.” I pull back and fake-pout.
His wicked eyes flash me in the dark, as he takes my hand and presses it against the hardening bulge between his legs. He’s still in his work clothes—trimmed pants, buttoned shirt, and a sexy vest—a look I will never get tired of. “Blondie, you can’t use reverse psychology on a psychologist. I know you want this almost as much, if not more, than I do. You’re my blowjob queen.”
“I…” I can’t argue with him there.
It’s the most gratifying way to please Roman, and I do love pleasing him in this way several times a week. It’s intimate, it’s hot, and reminds me of just how much I adore him. He was the one man who grabbed my attention and was good enough to keep it. Even now. The man I’ll hopefully spend a long, long time with.
Some partygoers arrive near us who just happen to look into the car as they walk by. “Let’s save it for when we get home, shall we? I want to properly sit between your knees naked and look up at you, worship your cock, swallow it whole. Can I, doctor?” Taking his finger, I plunge it into my mouth and roll it around on my tongue. Eyes closed, I can just taste it now.
“God, I love you,” he says, grabbing my face with both hands the way he always does and practically washing it off with the biggest kiss ever. “I’m serious. You make me feel like a man, like I can tell you anything. I’m never afraid.”
“Not even of big bad wolves hiding in the trees out there?”
“Not even close.”
“Not even of falling off this cliff and plunging to our deaths together?”
“As romantically tragic as that sounds—no.” Reaching behind my seat for something making a rustling sound, he brings forth a long box that looks like it might contain a wizard’s wand in it. “Not even afraid of this….”
I take the box wrapped in shiny blue paper and a silver bow and shake it.
“Don’t…don’t do that. Just open it.” He’s so focused on the box and holding his breath, I have to marvel at how nervous he seems. Roman, so usually calm and collected, nervous?
“What is it?” I ask.
“A gift. It’s been in my office for a while, waiting for this day when you get your first job at the studio.”
“Ooo, so mysterious, Dr. Lee.” Ripping the paper and sliding the box open, it takes me a moment, but I recognize it immediately. I take the sci-fi, robotic looking wand out and wave it around. “Is this a sonic screwdriver? The ninth doctor’s sonic screwdriver?”
“Yup.”
“Oh, my God! Where did you get this, Roman? It’s so cool!” I search for hidden buttons. It’s got to have lights and sounds, I just know it.
“I have my connections, Blondie. But look, press there.” He points to an inconspicuous tiny panel that’s actually a button. When I press it, funky electronic sounds come out of it. I feel like I won the awesome boyfriend lottery. “You like it?”
“I love it! I can start this car with it.” I pretend to start Roman’s ignition. “And I can fix a flat tire with it.” I pretend to fix the flat tire by hanging my arm out the window. “And I can read alien minds with it…” I press the tip of the sonic screwdriver to Roman’s head. “Hmm, this one’s apparently empty.” I laugh out loud.
“Very funny, little girl.”
“But wait, there’s more,” I say, waving the wand around, tapping his mouth with it. “Where else can I put this battery-powered thing, doctor? Hmm?” I smile wickedly. “I’m sure you can come up with a few suggestions.”
He kisses me, and at this moment, I feel his pounding pulse. “On your finger.”
“What?”
“On your finger. Look at the light.”
“The light?” I pause my playtime shenanigans and turn the screwdriver around, staring into the metallic blue beam emitting from the end. There’s something inside the plastic cap, glittering, reflecting, refracting the light. Something attached to a circular band.
“Is that what I think…” Now it’s my heart’s turn to pound. He didn’t…did he?
“Here…” He opens the screwdriver’s cap and out slides the most perfect, beautiful diamond engagement ring I have ever seen in all my life. I almost question who or what it’s for, because it’s too amazing to be for me.
No words. None. I stare open-mouthed at Dr. Roman Lee, imagining how even more handsome and amazing he’s going to look in the future forty years from now, because I’m—going—to—be—with him. Through time and space. I get to see how this weird, crazy fairy tale of ours ends.
I’m shaking and yes, I’m going to cry so hard.
“Now, tell me, Alice May Verano,” he takes the ring, brings forward my trembling hand, and slides it onto my finger. It fits perfectly. “Who’s your favorite Doctor again?”
I wrap my arms around him, inhale his scent, breathe in his hair, feel his stubbly face. I have to kiss him, solidify and internalize this moment in time, stretching it into the night as far as it’ll go. Because it’s not every day you get proposed to by the man you thought you’d lost just a year ago.
It’s not every day you feel like the world has paid its debt to you. Like you don’t give a shit if you cry in front of him, because you’re no longer living inside a straitjacket of fear and instead are being given a promise hidden inside a sonic screwdriver from the most wonderful man on earth besides Christopher Eccleston, because that’s how much he loves you.
It’s not every day you feel those tiny scraps of dread and panic left remaining in your stronger-than-ever psyche completely melt away, replaced by the man of your dreams. Not every day growing more and more excited for your new life to start in 3…2…1…
And so I tell him the truth.
“You are, Dr. Lee.” I melt into those emerald eyes. “You are.”
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COMING FALL 2017…
MORE by HAVANA SCOTT…
I've never had the Big O.
Not with a bad boy. Not with a good guy. Not on a train. Not in the rain. Not with a pillow, shower massager, pocket rocket, XL extra-veined d*ldo, Ben-Wa balls, rabbit thruster, diamond glider, bionic bullet, remote control vibrating panties--nothing.
You can say I'm frustrated.
So when I enroll in Human Sexuality my sophomore year, it's with the hope that I might discover what I'm doing wrong. Turns out it's who I'm NOT doing that's the problem.
He walks into the classroom--trimmed pants, tight ass, folded-up sleeves, wide chest, blue eyes, Clark Kent glasses. Older. Hot. I pray to the climax gods that he sit next to me and become my new study buddy. Instead, he sets his briefcase down and begins to write on the board in big bold letters: Dr. MacKenzie -- "Welcome to Human Sexuality 101."
And I've never loved college more. Teach me, Professor. I'm listening.
** This younger woman/older man standalone in the Taboo 101 Novels does not contain cheating. It does, however, contain an HEA and will melt your panties off. You have been warned.
It was supposed to be one night only…
The curvy, nerdy blonde from the bar and me after a night of too many drinks. I gave her the best time of her life. She gave me the best head ever. We parted ways in the morning. No drama.
A therapist’s dream come true.
But then my secretary announced my first visitor of the morning: Alice Verano, female, 20 years old, citing “school-induced anxiety” and “detachment issues.” When the door opened, I nearly spit my coffee. My nerdy hookup was a campus undergrad and now my patient?
F*ck my life.
When her mouth opened into an “O” of shock, I immediately hardened. I should have ended it right then and there. But I couldn’t. I had to hear her full story—the one I’d missed when I was too busy banging her. “Hello, I’m Dr. Roman. How may I be of service?”
** This younger woman/older man standalone in the Taboo 101 Books does not contain cheating. It does, however, contain an HEA and will make your private bits self-combust. You have been warned.
Hey. Tristan Giovanetti here.
I’ve had the most beautiful women in the Caribbean and beyond, but I’ve never met one who didn’t want me for my billions…or my own island in the French Indies.
Until I meet Paris Jones, the writer and winner of my essay contest to boost my resort’s publicity. The girl knows what it’s like to be at rock bottom in need of a vacation. In need of . . . well, lots of things. But even hot nights on my boat and endless mojitos can’t erase her inexplicable sadness, and the more she fights me, the more I want her for my own.
Add my resort heiress ex trying to get her claws back into me, and I’m caught between two worlds and two women—the one who wants to own me and the one I’m going to lose if I don’t step up my game. What do I have to do to claim Paris as my own? Will money or love seal the deal?
A super-hot HEA standalone about finding love again after loss, Surrender in Paradise will have you believing in second chances.
Let’s get one thing straight -- I get what I want.
And all I have to do to get it is flash my dangerous smile. Oh, yeah, and my wallet. I own seven properties in the Caribbean, but most nights, you can find me, Simon Coffe, partying at Hideaway Cove, my resort on Sorendi Isle.
I’m the guy in the tux between the redhead with the black deep-V dress and the topless blonde. The one holding the pomegranate mojito. Yeah, him.
Everything’s going great tonight, people are having a good time, and I’ve got my sights set on this classy Asian beauty across the pool.
But then, my assistant tells me an environmentalist has arrived to shut down my swim-with-the-dolphins attraction. I don’t think so! Jia Whitaker is a woman determined to hate me, but it’s nothing my charming attitude can’t fix. Game on.
Writing as GABY TRIANA
Tragedy has brought Micaela Burgos back to her hometown of Sleepy Hollow. It's been six years since she chose to live with her affluent father in Miami instead of her history-obsessed eccentric mother. And now her mother is dead.
But while Sleepy Hollow was made immortal by literature, the town is real. So are its prejudices and hatred, targeting Mica's Cuban family and the secrets of their heritage that her mother obsessed over. But ghostly voices whisper in the wind, questioning whether her mother’s death might not have been an accident after all, and Mica knows there's a reason she's here.
With the help of two very different guys—who pull at her heart in very different ways—Micaela must uncover the hidden secret of Sleepy Hollow…before she meets her mother's fate.
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Thanks for reading!
Love,
Havana Scott
Table of Contents
Copyright
Title Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Author Links
Coming Soon
More by Havana Scott
by Gaby Triana
