Bernadette has been kicked around one too many times in life. And when her politician-aspiring ex ditches her for some rags to riches girl, she sets out for revenge. One last screw to prove she can bring Winston to his knees and make him beg for her back.
But when she arrives at Winston’s penthouse, he’s got company in the form of a very sexy Pro Quarterback named Matt. Things start heating up and her party for two is starting to look like a party for three. As the night progresses, it just shows lust and sex can make it anybody’s game.
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EXCERPT
Winston’s door was open, and from outside the condo I could hear two male voices deep in discussion. One all too familiar, the other not so much.
I reached the doorway and took a deep breath before striding across the threshold. My gaze fell first on the man straddling the chair at a solid oak table in the living room. He faced away from me, so all I saw was massive shoulders and a strong back. Arms with some serious muscle rested easily on the metal frame. The guy was so big he dwarfed the chair.
Winston, who’d been leading the discussion, trailed off. I lifted my gaze reluctantly from the muscled giant up to the man who’d had no trouble kicking me to the curb.
He ceased pacing, his brown eyes widening in surprise.
The giant swiveled his head, obviously having noticed Winston’s shift in focus.
For a moment I was too caught up in Winston to look back at his friend. But then Winston always had that magnetic effect with me. He was sexy as all hell. Tall, dark hair and eyes, and so distinguished. He almost had a Kennedyesque air about him—or maybe that was just me making the erroneous connection since Winston’s dad was in politics.
“Bernadette.”
It was just one word. My name. But the way he said it was with a mixture of regret, apology, and lust. The lust part sent a thrill through me, and I bit back a smile of triumph. This was going to be all too easy.
I lowered my gaze back to muscleman and surprise rushed through me. Careful to school my expression, I wanted to give Matt Davis—the quarterback for Winston’s favorite football team—no clue that I’d recognized him.
He, however, wasn’t as careful with withholding his reaction to me. His gaze swept from the ends of my pedicured toes to the top of my sleek brown hair. His thorough inspection pretty much guaranteed he wondered what my lips would feel like wrapped around his cock.
Just thinking about sucking off the golden boy gave me delicious chills. Seriously, can you say corn fed? Blond and blue eyed, but with a glimmer in his gaze that implied he was anything but slow and stupid.
I straightened from the doorframe I’d been leaning against and crossed the room toward them. I put an extra kick in the sway of my hips, making sure my tits had a nice jiggle and my ass would bounce just so.
“Hello, gentleman. I hope I’m not interrupting.”
Winston set down the glass of amber liquid he’d been sipping and gave a slight smile.
“Not at all. Just boys being boys.”
A husky rumble of laughter bubbled up from my throat, and I let my hand drift across Matt’s rock-hard shoulder.
“I like it when boys are boys.” Picking up the glass Winston had just set down, I took a sip and then licked my lip. Brandy. “They tend to get into trouble and do things that can make most women shudder in horror.”
“But you’re not most women.”
Corn fed’s observation drew another laugh from me. Really, they were far from boys. Matt might have been late twenties, but Winston was smack dab into his thirties.
I leaned back against the table next to him, and my skirt hiked a bit. “No, I’m not most women.”