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Sugar (Gimme Series Book 1)
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I want her.
I’ll have her.
I’ll worship her.
The second Lexi steps into my life, she’s out of luck because I can’t let her walk out. Now to find a way to make her feel the same way.
This is a fun, sexy, fast read full of hearts and flowers with insta-love and lust.
Happy Valentine’s Day!
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I make a dash down the street, hoping the bus sees me, but no luck, and it drives away. “Damn it,” I swear, stopping and taking a breath. It’s been one heck of a start to my morning. My dog thought it would be fun to play outside instead of using his time wisely.
That’s what I get for having a husky. He jumped in the mounds of snow left over from the last storm we had. Thankfully most of it melted because he used my boots as chew toys last night, so I’m sporting my gym shoes. It’s not the nicest look, but I am comfortable, and thankfully most of the ice is off the main sidewalks.
I can’t wait any longer, and my fingers are too frozen to search the bus times. The cold breeze chills me to the bone, so I rush into the coffee shop. It’s almost eight. I have five minutes to get to school which means I’m going to miss my calculus class. Who decides to pick a math class at the beginning of the day? Seriously, I had to be insane. My next course isn’t until ten, so I do have some time to relax.
I step in behind a guy in a long, wool coat, expensive slacks, and shoes. His hair is cut fairly neat, but he has more hair at the top. Not too much, but just enough to look distinguished. I have no idea what his face looks like, but he pulls his phone out of his pocket, and I see that he’s sporting a very expensive watch. He’s got GQ written all over him.
What bothers me is how curious I am about him. Normally, I hardly notice anyone, and I mean that. I laugh when the news asks if you can identify a certain person to contact the police.
I’m like yeah, I’m totally useless, but this tall man has caught my attention, so much I can see that he’s got brown hair and he smells wonderful.
I take a deep breath, loving his cologne. Before I know it, I’m practically riding his back, I step backward one pace before he thinks he’s about to get mugged.
I’m sure he probably works in one of these buildings nearby. Most people around here at this time are employed somewhere in downtown Chicago. My mind flies to what his job is, that is until he gives me more to look at. As he turns slightly to look at his phone, I catch his profile, and I’m stunned. His face is covered in about two days of manly scruff, even so, I can tell his jaw is strong, and I could swear I heard a slight deep-voiced grumble.
I could melt on the spot.
He’s gorgeous and probably married or has a girlfriend that he’s gonna take her on a wonderful dinner where he may give her a diamond ring or earrings to go with a pair she already has. I can just picture the way she’ll sigh and coo with pleasure as she stares at the precious gift that he’ll treat as a small trinket and then he’ll look at her with those eyes, strong and full of love and passion. He’ll reach over with those thick masculine hands, cupping her jaw and lean in for a kiss.
I groan angrily and mutter, “Fucking hate Valentine’s Day.” Shock and embarrassment cover my face when the magical panty-melting, deep chuckle comes from the man in front of me. The man fantasies are made of.
There are hearts everywhere. There’s so much going on for Valentine’s Day that I’m practically tripping over paper hearts as I walk down Michigan Ave. Every storefront has hearts galore.
I make it to the nearest coffee shop. Opening the door, I breathe in the heady scent of fresh coffee beans. The line is longer than I hoped, although somehow I expected it would be. Normally I would get a ride into the office, but my driver’s sick, so I decided to use this brisk morning to walk to the office. It’s about six blocks from my condo to the office, and I could use something warm to stave off the cold.
“Fucking hate Valentine’s Day,” a soft voice mumbled behind me. It makes me chuckle because I’m not the only one annoyed with the overwhelming feeling of being alone on a day of hearts and flowers. It’s not that I don’t enjoy my single status, but it’s like celebrating Christmas without watching kids opening presents with innocent glee.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it that loud,” she apologizes. I turn around, and my mouth gapes open like a fool. I would be embarrassed if she wasn’t as equally affected by me. Her blush creeps up her heart-shaped face, and her tiger eyes widen. I groan as my cock presses insistently against my zipper. My reaction is immediate and intense, making it completely unsettling, but so necessary that I learn her name.