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Misadventures on the Night Shift (Misadventures #6)
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1943893438 (ISBN13: 9781943893430)
Hotel clerk Abby Medford has always enjoyed the quiet solitude of the night shift. The long, boring hours allow her time to study her law books. But when bad-boy-rocker Lucas Ford checks into the penthouse suite one night and demands Abby personally deliver his room service request, her formerly quiet nights are quickly filled with Lucas’s erotic games.
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“Holy shit,” Danica whispers, staring at something on her phone at the other end of the check-in counter. “Abby, you’ve got to see this.”
I don’t look up from my textbook, as usual. No offense to my darling Danica Reynolds and her never-ending search for porny distractions at work, but I don’t have time to gawk at man meat right now, especially not when we’ve finally reached The Dead Zone portion of our shift, the much-appreciated two- to three-hour window when nothing ever happens and I can finally study without interruption.
“Abby,” Danica persists. “You’ve got to see this.”
“Babe, I’ve got to get through this reading assignment before starting on the checkout folios.”
“Bah, studying can wait. I’m looking at Lucas Ford over here.”
My head jerks up from my textbook like a golden retriever whose owner just threw a stick. If there’s one man on the planet who could lure me away from studying about wrongful termination under the Civil Rights Act of 1964, it’s the sexiest rock star on the planet. The man whose face decorated my teenage walls ten years ago. Lucas Ford.
But, no, I really shouldn’t take a peek.
I look back down at my book.
Being able to get some solid studying done at work was the sole reason I agreed to be assigned to the God-awful night shift at this hotel in the first place, and I can’t afford to waste optimal study time gawking at men, even if the man in question happens to be my teenage fantasy. Okay, yeah, my fifteen-year-old self is punching me in the proverbial balls right now for not taking a peek at the photo on Danica’s phone, but the stressed-out twenty-four-year-old I’ve become has bigger fish to fry than giving my inner teenager a lady-boner. “I’ve got to study,” I mutter, continuing to look down at my textbook.
“You’re such a prude.” Danica chastises me, but her tone is affectionate. “Live a little for once, Abby. Take a walk on the wild side.”
I smirk to myself. Oh, Danica. I love her and I know she loves me. But she only knows the version of me who’s worked here for the past two years. If she’d known me five years ago when I was a human grenade, she’d never in a million years dream of telling me to walk on the wild side.
“Lucas Ford is playing tomorrow night at the arena,” Danica says, still staring at her phone. “The show’s sold out but I bet you could score tickets online. He’s one of your favorites, right?”
“Yeah. I’d love to go, but I’m working tomorrow night. Aren’t you off tomorrow night? You should go.”
“No, I picked up an extra shift from Tammy. I’m still trying to save up to help my mom.” She sighs. “I’m bummed. I’ve never seen Lucas Ford in concert. It’s definitely on my bucket list.”
“Oh, he’s phenomenal. I saw him nine or ten years ago, right when ‘Shattered Hearts’ first came out, and he absolutely slayed it. The minute he started playing the opening guitar riff, I burst into tears, even before he started singing.”
“Ha! I would have done exactly the same thing back then. Actually, I’d probably burst into tears today. That’s still my all-time favorite song.”
She snickers. “I lost my virginity to it.”
“Really? Did you choose the song or did the guy?”
“The guy, but only because he knew I loved it. It would have been a fantastic memory for me if only he’d lasted past the first chorus.”
We both guffaw at that.
Of course, if I were a normal girl who chatted breezily with her girlfriends about sex, now would probably be the perfect moment to tell Danica about how I gave myself my first orgasm at the tender age of fifteen while listening to “Shattered Hearts” and staring longingly at its creator’s twenty-year-old face on my bedroom wall. But, of course, since I’m not a normal girl, I’ve set certain non-negotiable rules for myself to keep my life on track. And one of those is never to talk about sex at work. Not even with Danica. Which means I keep my mouth firmly shut.
I look down at my textbook again and try to concentrate, but Danica’s loud snickering as she stares at her phone is awfully hard to ignore. I look at her again and sigh. “Are you still looking at that same photo of Lucas Ford or have you moved on to Jamie Dornan or Charlie Hunnam now?”
“I’m still looking at Lucas Ford. And it’s not his photo. It’s a video.” She smiles broadly. “A sex tape, actually.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
“It got leaked tonight,” Danica continues, barely containing a giggle. “And lemme just say, all those rumors about Lucas Ford having an extremely large package? They’re all true.”
I feel color rise in my cheeks. I look around to confirm nobody’s entering the empty lobby at this particular moment. “You can see his dick in the video?” I whisper.