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Jane and the Sneaky Dom -- Hannah Murray

Their Perfect Fit out on July 30! Pre-order now!

Gideon has been the star of all of Mina’s sweaty dreams for months now, and the feeling is entirely mutual. But the type of relationship Gideon wants? Well, it’s complicated – and includes his best friend and business partner, Bax.

When circumstances finally throw Mina and Gideon together, sparks fly. They’re just as combustible – and perfect – together as Gideon knew they would be. But will Mina be open to adding Bax to the mix? And can they all live happily ever after?

Only one way to find out.

Read Excerpt | Behind the Book

BUY: Kindle

behindthebook

When I first started writing this book, it was supposed to be just Mina and Gideon. I had envisioned Bax as Gideon’s super sexy best friend, and maybe he’d guest star in Mina and Gideon’s bedroom once in a while. But it just wasn’t working, and after several frustrating starts, I came to a very important realization: Bax is no guest star; he’s a headliner. When I realized that, everything fell into place, and the story just flowed.

It’s my first time writing a poly story, and I really enjoyed the challenge of it. I highly doubt it’ll be my last.

 

excerpt

Mina crossed to the sofa and sat, cradling her beer between her palms. Gideon kept his eyes on her face, though he noticed how the skirt crept up her thighs. And how her fingers wrapped around the glass bottle. It was no great leap to picture his dick in her hands in place of the bottle, and he bit back a groan.

His patience evaporated as lust surged, and when he spoke, all laughter was gone.
“What am I doing here, Mina?”

She blinked, the faint smile falling away from her face as she looked at him with something akin to trepidation. “I’m sorry?”

“Why did you invite me up here?” He stayed where he was, a good five feet away from her, out of self-preservation. He could smell her. The soft, citrusy fragrance that clung to her skin, and the spicier, earthier scent that was her arousal.

If he got even one step closer to her, he’d snatch her up and have her underneath him before she could blink.

“I’m...I don’t understand,” she stammered. Her eyes were clouded with confusion, her cheeks stained with embarrassment. “I asked if you wanted a drink. You said yes.”

He set the beer down on the nearest bookshelf with a loud clink. “I lied.”

Her eyes were so wide he thought they might pop right out of her head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to drink it.”

He might have laughed if he wasn’t so on edge. “You want to know why I came up here?”

“Um.” He saw her convulsive swallow, the smooth, creamy skin of her throat rippling. He wanted to taste her there, bite her there. Hold her there. “If you want to tell me.”

He nodded. “Every Friday I come into the bank, and you’re there. Every Friday.”

“I know,” she whispered. Her eyes were still wide, her fingers tense on the beer bottle. But her nipples were hard, little missiles jutting out against the clingy fabric of her top, and her pulse fluttered in her throat, a rapid tattoo.

“Why are you always there, Mina?”

Her tongue flicked out to lick at her lips, nerves dancing in her eyes. “It’s my job,” she began, then fell silent when he shook his head.

“Every Friday?” he said softly, and watched the flush staining her cheeks darken. “Are you there because you know I’ll be there?”

She had to swallow twice, and when she spoke, her voice was a soft rasp he had to strain to hear. “Yes.”

“Why?” He knew he was pushing, knew he was being too demanding, too blunt, but he couldn’t stop. He had to know. “Why, Mina?”

She was silent for so long, staring at him with her big eyes the color of a foggy forest, his heart sank. Gwen had been wrong. Heart in his boots, he nodded and took a step toward the door.

“Because I want you,” she said, the words tumbling out in a mad rush. She pushed to her feet, her hands fluttering in front of her for a moment before she linked them together so tightly her knuckles went white.

“You want me,” he repeated, sure his ears were playing tricks. Certainly, it was hard to hear her over the rush of his own blood.

“You come in, every week,” she began, her voice trembling. She spoke quickly, as though she was afraid her nerve would fail if she didn’t get it out fast. “And you smile at me, and my knees get weak, and you smell so good, and I want to lean across the counter and just bite you, but I’d get fired and you never...I didn’t think that you...”

She trailed off, eyes going comically wide and her lips parting in shock as he crossed the room in two strides, clamped his hands on her waist and lifted her right off her feet.

And kissed her.

Her mouth was soft, plump, and finally having it under his was like setting a flame to dry kindling. He took ruthless advantage of her parted lips, plunging his tongue in to slide against hers. She went stiff in his arms for one heartbeat, two, then her mouth twisted under his and her arms went around his neck and just like that, she was kissing him back like she wanted to swallow him whole.

Goddamn.

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