Don’t Fall for Your Best Friend (Magnolia Ridge #1) Read Online Logan Chance

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Erotic, Funny Tags Authors: Series: Magnolia Ridge Series by Logan Chance

Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)

A wickedly, funny romcom that'll have you laughing and swooning one minute, and hot and sweaty the next. Follow along as Paxton and Hartford try to navigate a world they know nothing about--B D S M!

I’ve always lived by one major rule, don’t fall for your best friend, and this is one rule I can’t break.

I’m supposed to write an article about a topic so scandalous, I can’t even say it. Starts with B, followed by DSM.

I know nothing about the lifestyle, so I’m committed to learning the ropes—pun intended. When my best guy friend offers his help, I happily accept.

Paxton Atwood might be ridiculously handsome, but we’re platonic and there will be rules to follow.
#1 No kissing
#2 Keep our undies on
#3 No actual boinking!
We start out easy, but exploring this new world is hard. The public play ends with me getting shocked in the local restaurant by the machinery, and our foray into restraints ends with Paxton in the emergency room.

We try a few other scenarios but they all end in disaster. Until I accidentally set my place on fire, and move in with Paxton. Now we’re sharing one bed, and forced to spend time alone together, perfecting our “scenes.”

What do they say about rules? They’re made to be broken, and once we break one rule…we break them all. But how do I walk away from him once this assignment is over?

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Chapter One


“Wait, did you say BDSM?” My eyes widen as I process my boss’s unexpected assignment detail. “As in…bondage? Forgive me if I’m misunderstanding and there is another meaning for BDSM, like Bread—”

Mr. Charleston’s hearty laughter cuts me off and ripples through his office before he confirms he indeed meant bondage.

“Don’t look so shocked, Hartford. Takes every type to make the world interesting. I want you to uncover all the mysteries,” he says, resting his forearms on his mahogany desk.

I jot in my notebook, uncover all the things and wow as I nod, attempting to grasp the gravity of this peculiar assignment. In the year I’ve worked at Cobblestone Chronicles, my lifestyle pieces have focused on ordinary topics. Local festivals, music, or family-focused activities.

Five minutes ago, when I entered Mr. Charleston’s office, I expected accolades for my piece on 10 Ways to Make The Internet Safer for Your Kids. Little did I know, he would ask me to forget all those safety tips and delve into the dark corners of the internet for an exposé on BDSM.

“Right. All the things. Such as...” I let my words linger in the air, the atmosphere thick with curiosity.

“As I see it,” Mr. Charleston says, “women who read Cobblestone Chronicles want adventure in their life. They want excitement. They want to explore their sexuality. We need to give that to them.”

I swallow past the boulder lodged in my throat and jot down the word adventure, followed by sex in my notebook.

“BDSM is no longer confined to dark clubs or basements.” He leans back in his leather chair. “This is a new era, and today’s movies and books have normalized it from being a dirty secret to something any mom can do in her house. Can they though? You’ll give them that experience and let them decide.”

I nod in agreement, my pen capturing his words in my notes:

Watch dirty movies.

Buy erotic books.

Moms can tie themselves up at home.


I glance up from my notebook and meet his gaze. “Right, yes. Okay, I’ll research BDSM and get that to you.”

“That’s the thing,” he says. “I don’t want an ordinary internet search. I want bigger—better. I want you to use those phenomenal journalistic skills I know you have and give me an article that our readers won’t expect. Something that will catch their attention. Something that will put us on the map, grow our readership. If you don’t feel comfortable, I can find someone else.”

Seconds tick by as I consider whether to pass on this assignment. I should bow out gracefully, but my ambition to leave a mark with my writing and reach a global audience is difficult to ignore. “I can do this.”

Mr. Charleston’s grin emerges beneath his shaggy, overgrown mustache. “Good. My plan is to add a new feature called Ridge Reflections to our online platform. People gossip in this town, so I realize you may want to keep this private. I have no problem with you using a pen name.”

“Okay, I’ll think about whether I want to use one.”

“When this idea came to me, I did a little research myself and they have local meetups for BDSM. They’re called munches. You should be able to get great interviews.”

I can’t stop nodding at this point as I make more notes:

Don’t have a heart attack.

Munch while interviewing people in bondage gear.

“Have the final proof in my inbox in three weeks,” he declares, wrapping up our unusual conversation with a deadline hanging in the air.

As I stand, I push my glasses further up my nose with a shaky finger. “Thank you for the opportunity,” I tell him before I leave his office in a panicked daze.

I know nothing about BDSM. Never been inclined to change that fact. The last time I had sex was a year ago.

After my breakup with Grant, the desire to jump back into the dating scene didn’t excite me. Sex has never been a monumental aspect of my life. My girlfriends insist I haven’t found the right man to sweep me off my feet, but I wonder if I’m just not that into it.

Can someone simply not find pleasure in sex? Is that a valid thing? Because, truth be told, it hasn’t been a priority for me. Now, as I embark on this unexpected journey into the world of BDSM, I can’t help but question my stance on the matter. Maybe this exploration will lead me to unravel more than just the intricacies of a provocative lifestyle.

It’s quitting time, so I push away lingering concerns about the assignment and head to my cubicle to gather my things.

“Are you rushing home to chill with Paxton?” Delia asks as I hustle past her desk. “Let me guess. Pad Thai for dinner?”

I stop outside her cubicle. “Yeah, it’s his favorite.” Paxton travels a lot for his job, so he likes to have one day a week where he gets to unwind and relax over his favorite meal. And I’m happy to oblige him. This has been our quirky tradition for over ten years, dating back to his fifteenth birthday, where he ate about half his weight in Pad Thai.