Book Hooks is a new weekly meme hosted by the MFRW Authors Blog in which participants post snippets from their books or works-in-progress. This week I’m offering a work-in-progress, unedited, Girl On Top Club (book one). I’ll let you know how this one comes along as I go. Here’s a description:
Rae Bradley has had it with the dating life and the disappointment that comes with it. She wants peace. As the youngest senior associate at Flint & Associates, Rae has achieved so many things in her life. The last thing she was looking for was love, but play was something—Rae and the ladies of G.O.T. Club could handle. When her boss steps into her office, declaring that he wants her to spend time with his son, Lennox to prepare for his takeover, no one is more honored than Rae of her boss’s confidence in her and at the same time horrified. Lennox Flint is notorious for being a ladies man, blunt and extreme in his life and let live attitude. The last time he’d been in her presence, before leaving to work for non-profit organization in New Orleans, they’d shared a heated lovemaking session in the coat closet during an office party. Even now, there was a part of her that wanted him, wanted to be on the edge. It was time to put her G.O.T. skills to the test.
The question came from behind me in a low whisper. Could I? I didn’t bother to look back at Angela Sawyer, another senior, joy sucking, soy latte drinking, last season’s Manolo wearing, looking-for-my-latest dick riding session and the most important yet pain in the ass part – associate at Flint. “You know better than to ask me that.”
Angie laughed. “Do I? You’re forgetting that I witnessed the golden boy’s moves on you in the coat closet during the Vite case celebration party. I’m sure he’s willing to stick his tongue down your throat if his heated glances your way are any indication.”
I felt my back stiffen. That was the one ace, the witch had over me and yet, it always came across as jealousy that Angie hadn’t been able to screw the father by having the son too. “And here I thought he was staring at you.”
I smiled triumphantly, watching him. Lennox Jordan Flint. Thirty-one years old. Hands down the best sexual experience I’ve ever had had occurred in a cramp, dark hall closet filled with perfume and cologne infused coats from furs to leather bombers. None of the articles’ scents could wash out the heady, intoxicating smell of Lennox’s skin. Woodsy. Athletic and earthy in the most sensually elemental way. Nearly five years later, and I swear I could feel his hands pitching my nipples, and his fingers working a delicious friction between my legs, taunting my pussy complete with an intense ache and soaked panties.
My eyes roamed over to where Maxwell stood with his arm over Lennox’s shoulders. Both dressed to the nines in their Armani suits, Hermes ties and notoriously infectious smiles. It was not hard to imagine where his son got his charm or if the way Angie still pinned after Maxell, beside manners. His deep brown gaze met mine. The world felt like it tilted off its axis. It didn’t make one damn bit of sense. My reaction to him felt like it should have been akin to a teacher hot for student, or at least that’s the visual I used to dissuade my inner vixen – whom was walking around shouting “I’m free!” but it hadn’t worked then and it wasn’t working now. I shouldn’t be surprised. From the moment I met Lennox, there was a pull, a pulsating force to ride him like the toy bull. And if I could stop and do a Michael Jackson spin, I’d admittedly say, Angie was my nemesis. We tolerated each other for the sake of appearing the good ole girls of the firm, and unbeknownst to our sire, Maxwell Flint, the saccharin smiles and overly joyous laughter was just a karate chop away from clawing each other’s eyes out.
Check out the other sexy entries of the MFRWhooks below: