Drawn Deep (Afternoon Delight 2)

“Stop asking other people. Next time, we’ll figure things out together.” She stroked his wrist. “So is parenting Telly together part of falling for you? You’re like the damn bird whisperer.”

His smile grew. He hadn’t expected to hear the words for a while. “You’re admitting you’ve fallen for me?”

She flushed. Actually flushed. If he hadn’t been in love already, her pink cheeks would’ve sealed it. “Yes. I’m in deep, Montgomery. It’s all your fault.”

“I’ll happily take that blame since it turns out I’m in pretty deep as well. Guess we’ll have to figure it out together.” He kissed the top of her head. “Just tell me if you start feeling lost, little girl,” he murmured, hoping she remembered.

“Nope, not lost,” she said, echoing her first words to him that day after class. “I was waiting for you.”

Did you miss Sara and Brad’s story?

Read on for an excerpt of their story, DIRTY DISTRACTIONS.

Do younger men turn your crank?

DIRTY DISTRACTIONS

As a mechanic, Brad’s good with his hands. And he wants to put them all over Sara.

Sara might be a doctor who works with birds, but Brad’s the one who knows how to find all the right spots to make her purr. She wouldn’t mind that, if only she wasn’t ten years plus—mumble, mumble—older than him.

And if he wasn’t her best friend’s brother. Her younger brother.

Brad doesn’t care about their ages or the differences in the worlds they come from. They’re roommates, living together while Sara’s apartment is being renovated.

But they aren’t living alone. Brad’s big sister lives there too. And Sara’s pretty sure her bestie would prefer not to hear Sara having a screaming O with her brother.

Or a few dozen of them.

Then again, maybe rules are meant to be broken. And perhaps opposites attract—and age differences don’t matter nearly as much as other numbers.

Like how many days it takes to fall in love.

BUY or BORROW

Read on for an excerpt…

Chapter 1

In the three months, fifteen days and handful of hours since she’d last had sex, Sara Carmichael had thought of little else. Maybe not every minute, but way more frequently than usual. And the co-star of those fantasies was the grinning, often grease-spattered man currently ogling her from a few feet away across her best friend’s backyard.

Sara reclined in the chaise lounge by Kim’s pool and brought her cell phone close to her face, as if she were mesmerized by the scores of last night’s game. Instead she peered over the top of her phone, tracking the way Brad O’Halloran’s gaze tracked her as she idly ran her toes along her left calf.

She always felt exposed around him, though her basic black swimsuit didn’t exactly promise carnal delights. It was a bikini, true, but at forty-two, she doubted the under-thirty set would be getting erections looking at her curves.

Brad was under thirty. He also seemed tall enough to block out the sun as he rose and strode over to her, though she suspected her own modest five-foot-three height made it seem as if he were taller. As often covered in grease as he was in aftershave, Brad didn’t skimp on all those man pheromones that set a woman’s nose twitching.

Or her nipples hardening, depending.

As far as things went, Brad was a pretty good catch. A business owner, intelligent, pleasant to talk to. He was beyond hot. Sizzling. Scorching. And yet still really young.

Dammit.

“You’re going to go cross-eyed if you keep staring at that phone, Sara Smile.”

Sara Smile again. The old eighties song had come on one day earlier that summer and Brad had immediately adopted the nickname for her, probably in the hopes of driving her nuts. It was working.

She’d never had a nickname before. Sara was a utilitarian name, a proper moniker for a competent, professional woman whose life was normal in every way. Normal, familiar and predictable.