on January 27, 2015
Genres: Erotica, Romance
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Happy Release Day to Maya St. James and Book 1 of her 3 part serial – PAWN! Make sure to enter the giveaway below for a chance to win a $50 Gift Card! Good luck!!
“I want to spend your last semester getting you out of those fucking pearls and on all fours.”
That’s what he said to me when he found out that with one semester of college left, my father—his colleague—had cut me off. Young, wickedly handsome, and deliciously moody, Senator Graham Delaney’s filthy proposition to cover tuition in exchange for one semester of kink was terrifying and thrilling and offensive. Very, very offensive.
If you’re wondering if I told him to go screw himself after he gave me his ultimatum—if the night ended with me slapping that smirk off his face—that didn’t happen.
Instead, I did what I needed to do.
I just didn’t expect to like it.
Book 1 of a 3 part serial.
Volume 1 (ebook) : January 27, 2015
Volume 2 (ebook): February 14, 2015
Volume 3 (ebook): February 27, 2015
Vol 1 to 3 Paperback: February 27, 2015
He fingers the string of pearls around my neck, and I hold back a tremble when his thumb traces my collarbone. “I know you don’t.” He drops my necklace, backing away from me, and gesturing to a glassed-in balcony with a fantastic view of the city lights and the Washington Monument. Squinting, I see there’s a table set for two out there. “Dinner, Elle, before I decide our time is better suited with my face against your—”
Tuning out that last little bit, I walk a little too quickly onto the balcony, but the clench in my thighs makes me stumble. He steadies me, gripping my hips from behind me, and pouring gasoline on the fire his words started. “Are you always so clumsy?”
Only when hot men who are a decade older than me threaten to go down on me in lieu of dinner. “No. Do you start all your dates like this?” I retort.
“No.” We sit down, and the look he gives me is downright predatory. “I normally fuck first, dine later. I usually prefer the dining to be done alone without all the awkward chit-chat.”
Flushed, I glance away from his face, focusing on an elaborate chess table, complete with tan and black marble pieces, sitting in the far corner of the balcony. Does he play? I’d learned from my maternal grandfather as a child, but I’d probably get my ass taken to town now, especially by someone like Graham. And instantly, my thoughts go south, carnal, and I blame his suggestive words.
I sigh. “You know, you talk about fucking so much it makes me question—”
I release a yelp when he pulls my hand in his under the table and shoves it against his zipper, closing my fingers around the unquestionable—and admittedly very, very impressive—bulge.
“That’s not hard, Elle,” he tells me in a low voice, “but if you’re doubtful of my ability to make you forget your fucking name, how to walk—and everything else but yes, please, and more—it won’t take long for you to get me there.”