PRAISE FOR THAT MAN
“Funny, sexy, perfection. Equal parts Tangled and Beautiful Bastard.”
—Adriane Leigh, USA Today Bestselling Author
“Not only is Blakemeister back, but he’s on fire!! . . . I cannot believe how even more beyond uniquely quirky, smooth, and honestly in a class of its own L’Amour’s writing style is.”
—A is For Alpha, B is for Books Blog
“The THAT MAN series keeps getting better and better, funnier and sexier. Bravo, Nelle! No wonder this series is a runaway success!”
—Arianne Richmonde, USA Today Bestselling Author
“Blake Burns . . . the most funny and charming boyfriend next to Andrew Parrish and Drew Evans”
—Bedtime Reads
“Mr. Burns is the epitome of sex on a stick. Irresistible and naughty. Perfection! And get ready to die of laughter too.”
—G The Book Diva Blog
“THAT MAN has everything readers could want. A funny and sexy read. Phenomenal!”
—The Fairest of All Book Reviews
“This is a 5-star book in a 5-star series and is sure to make you melt. Blake Burns lights up the pages with his Alpha attitude. He’ll leave you screaming, ‘MORE!’”
—Random Musesomy
“Be prepared for another hot, sexy, and humorous read.”
—Love Between the Sheets Book Blog
“The chemistry between Blake and Jennifer is so hot your Kindle will melt.”
—SubClub Books
“Is it possible to love Blake even more than I did? A resounding YES!”
—Goodreads Reviewer
“Nelle L’Amour’s writing is the perfect mixture of sexy dialogue, relatable characters, and laugh out-loud moments. Get ready to fall in love with THAT MAN all over again.”
—Vanessa Booke, USA Today Bestselling Author
ABOUT THIS BOOK
Scorchin’ hot Blake Burns and his tiger Jen are back in this steamy laugh-out-loud novella. And so is his crazy, oversexed Grandma!
Blake’s wise old man has always preached: What goes up must come down. Right? Wrong!
Newlyweds Blake and Jennifer face their first marital crisis. A night of enraptured sex turns into a f***ing nightmare. That Man may lose his beloved wife! And something else he can’t live without!
This sizzling standalone is the first in a series of hilarious THAT MAN misadventures. What can go wrong will go wrong! Be sure no one is watching while you snort with laughter and fan yourself from the heat!
Copyright © 2020 by Nelle L’Amour
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved worldwide
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, locales, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is purely coincidental.
No part of this ebook may be reproduced, uploaded to the Internet, or copied without permission from the author. The author respectfully asks that you please support artistic expression and help promote anti-piracy efforts by purchasing a copy of this ebook at the authorized online outlets.
Nelle L’Amour thanks you for your understanding and support.
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Cover by Arijana Karčić/CoverIt Designs
Proofreading by Virgina Tesi Carey
Formatting by BB eBooks
Books by Nelle L’Amour
Secrets and Lies
Sex, Lies & Lingerie
Sex, Lust & Lingerie
Sex, Love & Lingerie
Unforgettable
Unforgettable Book 1
Unforgettable Book 2
Unforgettable Book 3
THAT MAN Series
THAT MAN 1
THAT MAN 2
THAT MAN 3
THAT MAN 4
THAT MAN 5
THAT MAN 6
THAT MAN 7
THAT MAN 8
Alpha Billionaire Duet
TRAINWRECK 1
TRAINWRECK 2
Love Duet
Undying Love
Endless Love
A Standalone Romantic Comedy
Baby Daddy
A Second Chance Romantic Suspense Standalone
Remember Me
An OTT Insta-love Standalone
The Big O
A Romance Compilation
Naughty Nelle
For every reader who has kept Blake and his tiger alive in their heart. Your heart belongs to me.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Praise for THAT MAN
About This Book
Copyright Page
Books by Nelle L’Amour
Dedication
Epigraph
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
A Note from Blake
A Note from Nelle
Excerpt from THAT MAN 8
Acknowledgments
Books by Nelle L’Amour
About the Author
Whoever said that size doesn’t matter needs their head examined.
—Anonymous
Chapter 1
Blake
Ari Golden, the pharmaceuticals titan, sat catty-corner to me at my long conference room table. To the right of him, was my best friend Jaime Zander, the advertising guru, who handled most of Conquest Broadcasting’s advertising as well as that of Golden International. Jaime was the one who had connected us, thinking there was a good fit and money to be made. I was at the head of the table, waiting for my wife Jennifer, the head of My Sin-TV, our highly successful erotic women’s channel, to join us.
Drinking coffee that my longtime secretary Mrs. Cho had brought us, Ari’s eyes bounced around the room, taking in the posters of our many successful series and movies.
“I’m excited to meet your wife,” he said after a sip of the steamy brew, his gaze meeting mine. Just as he set down his cup, my wife dashed into the boardroom, breathless as she jogged over to the chair opposite Ari’s. She was wearing a summery floral wrap dress that demurely showed off the contours of her slender but sexy, toned body. She threw her stuffed backpack on the floor and, upon sitting down, lifted her tortoiseshell eyeglasses to her head, a small gesture that always gave my cock a little jolt. Her gorgeous emerald green eyes met mine, then Jaime’s.
“Hi, Blake . . . Jaime. Sorry I’m a little late. I was putting out a fire on the set of Well Hung.”
“I hope you called 911,” I deadpanned.
Ari’s brows lifted with amusement while Jaime stifled a chuckle. Lauren Blakely’s popular romcom was the latest bestselling erotic romance novel to be turned into a made-for My Sin-TV movie. These steamy chick flicks had proven to be extremely successful, helping to bring the price of Conquest Broadcasting stock to an all-time high.
“So what exactly was the problem?” I asked.
“The actor playing the part of Wyatt couldn’t get an erection on cue. After five takes, we finally had to give him a little ‘assistance.’”
With a smirk, I rolled my eyes. This frequently happened. The problem could usually be solved with a little dose of Viagra or porn, and if neither of those worked, there was always the sock puppet.
Fortunately, that was never my problem. Mr. Burns, as I affectionately called my cock, never had a performance problem, especially with my sexy as sin wife. In fact, he could likely w
in an Emmy for Best Performer in the Sack. Make that in the world.
“I wish I had those kinds of problems,” commented Ari, his eyes on my wife. “In the pharmaceuticals business, we have a whole different set of ‘ups and downs,’ no pun intended.”
“I bet,” laughed Jennifer, warming to Ari. My eyes stayed on him as he stood and rounded the table to shake my tiger’s hand.
A little older than me . . . thirty-five according to the research I’d done . . . the Fortune 500 mogul was blond, bronzed, and blue-eyed and wearing a five thousand dollar Brioni suit that rivaled mine. With a commanding presence and his over six foot athletic frame, he was movie star handsome. I’m talking Chris Hemsworth handsome, and seriously, the two could have been separated at birth.
“So nice to meet you, Jennifer.” His voice was deep and velvety and matched the seductive smile on his handsome face. “Jaime’s told me great things about you.”
I felt that little green-eyed monster—jealousy—rearing its ugly head, but upon eyeing his gold-banded ring finger I remembered that the charmer—once one of Manhattan’s most eligible bachelors—was a family man, happily married to a highly respected toy biz executive and the father of two children. As he held Jen’s hand, I couldn’t help noticing how long his manicured fingers were. That meant something else beneath his gazillion dollar suit was likely long too. I generally didn’t make it a practice to assess other men’s dicks, but without a doubt, Ari Golden was well hung. The green-eyed monster inside me grew bigger and greener. When it came to my tiger, I was possessive—and protective—to the point of doing some serious damage.
I cleared my throat. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
“Good idea.” Ari nodded, finally returning to his seat. His gaze darted to me, then returned to Jennifer.
Take your eyes off of her, hot shot. She belongs to me! Inhaling a breath through my nose, I willed myself to calm down as a jean-clad Jaime chimed in.
“Blake, Jen . . . as you know, Golden International’s breakthrough skin-care product, Dermadoo, has been a worldwide phenomenon. In part, thanks to the advertising campaign ZAP! created.” ZAP! was the name of Jaime’s edgy and very successful ad agency, which now had offices in nearby Venice Beach in addition to downtown New York. My hands folded on the table, I watched as he manipulated his laptop, which was hooked up to the large flat screen TV on the front wall. All eyes turned to the screen as a commercial began to play.
Three stunning women, one Caucasian, one Black, and one Asian, all with flawless glowing skin filled the screen. Their lush lips broke into sexy, confident smiles as one of them held up a Dermadoo tube and purred the tagline: “Dermadoo . . . a little dab will do ya.”
The commercial fading to black, Jaime hit the pause button and Ari stepped in. “After considerable thought and research, we’d like to integrate Dermadoo into your My Sin-TV series and movies . . . and in particular, we’d like to sponsor The Sexy Shmexy Book Club, the goal being to reach an older demographic.”
Sexy Shmexy was the highly popular daytime talk show created by Jennifer, starring my oversexed octogenarian grandma and her wacky erotic romance book club. It had been on the air for just a little over a year and the ratings were through the roof, and not just with viewers 60+. My grandma Muriel was even more popular than Ellen DeGeneres and was often compared to her dear friend Dr. Ruth. Women, regardless of their age or socio-economic background, adored her.
My eyes lit up. I was sure Jaime could see dollar signs flashing in them. “How much are you willing to put on the table?” I asked Ari.
“Let’s start out with twenty mill.”
I thought the dollar signs were going to fly out of my eyes. That would almost pay for the entire production cost of the series.
Ari continued. “All we want is for an announcer at the beginning of each show to say: ‘The Sexy Shmexy Book Club . . . brought to you by Dermadoo.’ And then for your grandma to hold up the product and say, ‘A little dab will do ya,’ before the closing credits.”
My grandma was a lot like me. Or should I say I was a lot like her. Both of us could sell an igloo to an Eskimo and a dick to a dyke.
Trying to contain my excitement, I turned to my wife. “Tiger . . . I mean, Jen . . . what do you think?”
Only one word spilled from her kissable lips. “Wow.”
Wow was right! Then one word spilled from mine: “Deal.”
A megawatt smile bloomed on Ari’s face, revealing his perfect Hollywood-white teeth. He stood up, then I did, and we shook hands. “Deal,” he repeated before we both sat back down.
My eyes stayed fixed on him as he reached under the table and placed a large box in the middle. “This is for you and Jennifer. A case of Dermadoo.” Reaching into the partially open box, he tossed a few tubes onto the table.
“Thanks,” beamed Jen, grabbing one of the tubes. “I can’t wait to try it!”
“Me either,” I added silently. Anyone who knew me knew I was a total sucker for beauty products and loved trying new ones. Jennifer always teased me that I was way worse than any girl she knew. The ultimate metrosexual. I had an entire supply closet stocked with every beauty product under the sun and when we went shopping, I was like a kid in a candy store in a beauty supply store. Recently, Jen had made me donate all my unused samples to a women’s shelter. A dozen large boxes ended up being sent.
“Hey, what about me?” asked Jaime, feigning to be the little boy left out.
“C’mon, Zander,” replied Ari. “You and Gloria have a warehouse full! I can’t afford to give you any more after this deal. I’ll go broke!”
We all exchanged a hearty laugh and then I invited everyone for a celebratory lunch in our executive dining room. Both Ari and Jaime accepted, but my tiger declined, having made previous plans with one of her best friends.
Which was just as well. Because I still didn’t want her around this filthy rich golden-haired Adonis.
Call me an insecure, jealous son of a bitch.
Whatever. Because when it came to my tiger, for better or worse, I was that man!
Chapter 2
Jennifer
Sushi Roku was our favorite sushi spot. It used to be located near the Beverly Center, but had moved to Doheny just off Sunset Boulevard. I was seated in a booth opposite my close friend, Chaz, and his fiancé, Jeffrey, one of LA’s premier event planners. Chaz, a successful fashion designer, was the twin brother of my bestie, Libby Clearfield, who also worked at Conquest Broadcasting. Now, the Director of Consumer Insights, she was away on one of her many business trips, overseeing focus groups in the Midwest. Sometimes, I thought she spent more time out of the office than in it, and traveling so much did not make it easy for her to settle down. Nor did her on-again, off-again long-distance relationship with her boyfriend, Everett, a visiting scholar in France. They had been going together since our USC college days, but neither seemed ready nor willing to make a commitment . . . much to both Chaz’s and my chagrin.
Platters of our favorite sushi rolls were already on the table. Crispy soft-shell crab rolls, rainbow rolls, spider rolls, and more. I never knew how we could consume them all, but somehow we always did. Chaz and Jeffrey were washing their rice-covered bites down with a large hot sake while I stuck to some non-alcoholic green tea. I was prone to getting drunk easily and couldn’t afford to be inebriated all afternoon when I had a jam-packed schedule ahead of me. After lunch, I had to attend a taping of The Sexy Shmexy Book Club . . . watch and give notes on the Well Hung dailies . . . do an interview with the Hollywood Reporter . . . and review some submissions for new program ideas. Plus, I had an all-important meeting with Saul Bernstein, the formidable head of Conquest Broadcasting, that I had to be totally prepared for. Though he was my father-in-law and I adored him, business was business.
Devouring the sushi, we caught up, with Chaz telling me about his latest collection and his upcoming feature in Vogue. The fashion magazine was spotlighting hot, young designers to watch, and he was
among them.
“Oh my God! That’s awesome!” I blurted, swallowing down a piece of the California roll. I often wore Chaz’s stunning creations to black tie and red carpet events, wowing both my colleagues and the media. He also designed my magnificent wedding gown, which I now kept in an airtight box so as to preserve it. Maybe, just maybe, the little girl I longed to have would one day wear it.
Jeffrey shared my enthusiasm and then quipped, “He’s going to be so famous he won’t need me anymore!”
“Stop it, darling!” Chaz chastised. “And have some more sushi!” With his chopsticks, he playfully fed his longtime partner another piece while I took a sip of my hot tea.
I set down the small stoneware cup next to my cell phone. “I have some exciting news too.”
“Jenny-Poo, don’t hold back unless you want us to read your mind. And you know how much we love to play games!”
They did indeed. In fact, if it hadn’t been for a game of Truth or Dare that Chaz had initiated during my engagement party to my former fiancé Bradley, I may have never met or married Blake. It was a dare—a blindfolded kiss with a total stranger—that brought us together. A kiss to this day I still never forget. Or regret.
“Okay, spill the beans.” Chaz wagged a finger at me and grinned sheepishly. “I know . . . you and Blake are having a baby.”
I flushed. It was nothing like that. For one thing, we’d been married for less than a year. Plus, having a baby with Blake was complicated on account of the partial hysterectomy I’d had before we tied the knot. But it wasn’t impossible. I’d hadn’t shared the promising news with anyone . . . especially my BFF, Libby. As much as I loved her like a sister, I had to always remember: Tell Libby. Tell the world. She was an impossible gossip.
I cleared my throat. “No, guys, it’s nothing like that. A big sponsor wants to underwrite Grandma’s talk show.”
“Who?” asked my companions in unison.
THAT MAN 7 Page 1
