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Homeschooled and under the stifling grip of an overprotective father, Talia Fielding’s life is pretty miserable. Playing her beloved ukulele and writing songs is as close as she comes to having fun. But that all changes on the night of her eighteenth birthday. She’s invited to her first party where she learns two things: girls can be very, very mean and Griffin Stanford kisses better than any fantasy she’s ever had.
To most of his friends, Griffin Stanford is the handsome football star. However, under those good looks lies the heart of a geek. His passion for numbers has ensured him a life changing job straight out of college. The contract he’s signed has him boarding a plane to halfway around the world the morning after he meets the girl of his dreams.
The obsessive draw Griffin feels toward Talia has him questioning his life’s choices. One night, one kiss and Griffin knows this may be his one and only chance to capture the perfect girl… How can he stop her from slipping through his fingers when the world seems determined to keep these two virgins apart?
Author Note: These two fall in love instantly. If you’re looking for a filthy fantasy fix complete with a Dani-style dirty talking hero topped with heaping helpings of swoony romance, you’re in the right place. This is a standalone novella, with Kindle melting heat, safe, no cheating and filled with virgins who magically know exactly what they’re doing from the very first kiss.
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C H A P T E R O N E
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
It’s a sign. I shouldn’t have come. I consider retreating through the ivy covered wrought iron gates that I’ve only just stepped through.
“Hey, Griff!” Stacey Phelps lifts one hand and waves a little unsteadily. “Griffin!”
She was the homecoming queen of my high school senior class, and to my horror I was voted onto the court that year, so I’m not surprised she’s here. This is sort of my unofficial going away party at my best friend Derrick’s parents’ estate. I’ve known Stacey since fifth grade. We’re not what I would call friends, but we’d hung out in the same circles, and she saying ‘hi’ would be normal under normal circumstances.
But in this case, it’s fucking weird.
She’s leaning over a long, teak dining table that adorns the outside, covered dining area by the pool with her skirt flipped up over her rear and some dude’s dick deep in her lady business.
People are idiots.
“Jesus.” I grunt toward the darkening sky, shaking my head as I kick the squeaking iron gate closed behind me with my heel.
I should have just taken the front entrance like everyone else, but I thought I might be able to sneak in unnoticed if I came through the back garden. Should have known better. I’m not one for attracting attention; I’m more the sit-in-the-corner-and-hope-no-one-notices-me kind of guy. That’s not always the case unfortunately. My sheer size draws eyes, I get that.
If I had my way, I’d have my head stuck in a book or hitting some intricate math problem just to prove to myself I could solve it. But most people still see me as a varsity jacket. A football Guido. The cheerleaders used to have a betting pool on who would manage to snag me. Whoever got the first fuck apparently won a prize. That never happened.
The scene that’s greeted me raises my blood pressure. Emily Post has no protocol for this sort of thing.
I do my best to avert my eyes as I speed my steps across the ledge stone pathway, dry leaves crunching under my black boots, and doing my best to feign ignorance of the coital activities to my left.
But Stacey won’t stop fucking talking to me.
“I heard you were coming. MBA a year early, I hear. He always was Mr. Smarty pants,” she adds over her shoulder as the dick behind her thrusts forward. Every few words there’s a gasp of punctuation, her suitor seemingly finding my presence no deterrent to his dick’s needs. “Hey, Griff, come over and say ‘hi.’ My mouth isn’t occupied.” Her sing song tone does nothing to stay the violent uprising in my stomach.
“No.” I jab the word at the ground, making it very clear her offer is not only declined but enthusiastically declined, shoving my hands into the back pockets of my Levi’s, the six pack tucked between the crook of my elbow and my hip. My leather jacket opens in the front. The “Property of University of Michigan Football” lettering stretching across my chest.
“You sure? You and I never did get together. Kind of a shame don’cha think?”
I’m three long strides toward the back door into the main house, still stunned she’s talking to me as though we’re standing outside a fucking library or something. All I want to do is get inside and away from that sight. Even though it was only a split second glance, it’s now burned into my brain. The incoherent glaze of inebriation and lust on both their faces, the way they’re lit by the color changing, underwater pool lights, like some kind of weird new art installation Derrick’s step-mom has wasted her money on.
Sometimes I just can’t ignore the things I should.
I take one hand out of my back pocket, my fingers twisting the door handle, but I can feel myself starting to shake. The fire flickers down in my gut.
I take three measured breaths like my high school coach and mentor Lenny Robinson taught me to do. It doesn’t work. I set the beer down on the table next to the door and breathe through my nose for a long moment.
“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?” I spin and take a few strides back in their direction. The guy standing behind Stacey bites his lip, eyes glazed, only half open, and I doubt he’s even aware of me at the moment. I know the fucking look and I feel dirty just seeing it, but this is total bullshit. I raise my voice and clap my hands together. “Hey, asshole, yes, I’m talking to you.” I thrust my arm out straight, snapping my fingers and pointing his way.
Stacey’s head jerks back, her eyes wide, and she haphazardly brushes her tangled hair from her face. I see that she’s deep into this right now, but I can’t let this shit go, for her sake as much as anything. I don’t have any specific feelings for her one way or the other, and if she was a stranger I’d be having the exact same reaction.