Dear Bridget I Want You Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland
From the New York Times Bestselling authors of Stuck-Up Suit and Mister Moneybags comes a sexy new standalone novel.
I’m writing this letter because it’s highly doubtful I’ll ever garner the courage to say this to your face.
So, here goes.
We’re totally wrong for each other. You’re the proper single mum with a good head on your shoulders. I’m just the carefree British doctor passing through town and temporarily living in your converted garage until I head back to England.
But here’s the thing… for some bloody reason, I can’t stop thinking about you in very inappropriate ways.
I want you.
The only reason I’m even admitting all of this to you right now is because I don’t believe it’s one-sided. I notice your eyes when you look at me, too. And as crass as I appear when we’re joking around about sex, my attraction to you is not a joke.
So, what’s the purpose of this note? I guess it’s a reminder that we’re adults, that sex is healthy and natural, and that you can find me just through the door past the kitchen. More specifically, it’s to let you know that I’m leaving said door cracked open from now on in case you’d like to visit me in the middle of the night sometime.
No questions asked.
Think about it.
Whatever you choose.
It’s doubtful I’ll even end up sliding this letter under your door anyway.
Dear Bridget I Want You Penelope Ward & Vi Keeland
When I returned to the living room with two glasses of Zinfandel, Simon was nose deep in my Kindle reading my book.
“You’ve been holding out on me, Bridget. This is the stuff in your books?”
Feeling the heat rise in my face, I said, “What did you think was in my books?”
“I figured it was some Fabio shit, you know, woman blushes, follows the guy to the bedroom, he makes love to her. This chap has his cock between her tits, and he just shot his load on her face.”
“Oh, that’s right. I read past your bookmark. I guess you hadn’t gotten there yet.”
“Let me back up and read it to you, then.”
The expression on my face must have looked like a mixture of terror and amusement. At least, that was how I felt. “Simon…”
“Come on. I promise. I’ll be serious. We can have Storytime with Simon. Sit back with your wine and I’ll read to you.”
Oh my God. He was serious.
I had to admit, though. The thought of listening to him reciting the sex scenes for me in that accent was too enticing to pass up. So, against my better judgment, I did as he said, took my glass of wine, sat down, leaned my head back and just listened.
“Let’s see now. Looks like your bookmark begins right here.” Simon cleared his throat dramatically. “Ahem” And then began…
“His fingers dug deep into my tense shoulder muscles.”
Oh my God. I’d completely forgotten that I’d left off in my book at a point where the hero was about to give the heroine a massage. Just like Simon had done to me not two minutes ago. “This isn’t a good idea.” I began to jump up from the couch, but Simon caught me. He hooked one arm around my waist and pulled me back down. Only now we were sitting much closer on the couch. Our thighs were touching, and the warmth from his body transmitted to my leg and shot down to an interesting place.
“Rubbish. You set me up with a boney-ass, wanna-be kitten. Now I’m going to get some action tonight, even if it has to come from your e-reader.”
I smirked. “Her ass was kind of boney, wasn’t it?”
“Did you even inquire if she was a starfish?”
I giggled. “No.”
“Alright, then. You owe me. And as payback, I’m going to read this little hot scene and then when we’re done, I’ll go back to my place and enjoy a good wank, and you’ll do whatever it is that you do.”
“A good wank?” I questioned.
“Masturbate. You know…” Simon formed a C with one hand and pumped it back and forth, simulating a hand job. “Jerk the gerk. Choke the chicken. Pump the stump. Do the five knuckle shuffle. Flog the lizard. Burp the worm. Charm the snake…whatever you Americans call it these days.”
If I had any common sense, I probably should have been offended that my tenant was suggesting that he read me the dirty parts of my book and then we go our separate ways and masturbate. But…it did sound sort of appealing. God knows I was tense. Simon smirked. “You’re in. I can read it all over your face. You won’t deprive me this simple pleasure after the catastrophe of my date.”
“Fine,” I huffed trying to sound like it was a sacrifice.
Simon started to read again. I didn’t bother to move from my new position snuggled against him.
His fingers dug deep into my knotted shoulder muscles. “You’re so tense. Why don’t you remove your blouse so I can really work my fingers into you?”
“Okay.” I unfastened the small pearl buttons and slipped my blouse from my shoulders.
“Christ, you have no bra on underneath your shirt, Cheri.”
“I’m perky enough that I don’t need to wear one.”
“Perky, huh? Perhaps I should be the judge of that.” Andrew reached around to cup both my breasts. He pinched one nipple hard. “These are pretty damn perky. How about if I massage these for a while instead of your neck?”
Simon stopped reading. “Wait. So that was an option? I only got to rub your neck?”
I elbowed him in the ribs, and he chuckled while speaking. “Let me ask you, does this thing have a word search feature?”
“The e-reader? Yes, why?”
“Do you ever just search for cock or tits and skip right to the good parts?”