Pauline will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Gavin Rossi is one sexy piece of Eye Candy wrapped in a tight body and sweet smile. The hot breath on his neck, the mesmerizing rhythm as he rolls his hips, the strong chest rising and falling beneath his hands make for a distraction he’s terrified to see play out.
When Dutch Williamson feels a set of perfectly sculpted thighs slipping over his lap, the last thing his liquor-hazed brain registers is this is my future. The tempting piece of Eye Candy grinding on his lap is going to cut him at the knees, and he knows it.
This is a dance. This is a tease. God, this is so much more.
The thought of going back to the crowded apartment after his shift made Mr. Stranger that much more important. Every customer counted as one step closer to being on his own. Granted, sharing a room with three guys didn’t compare to living on the streets, but dreams could change. Life meant more than a warm bed now.
The song switched. A new rhythm pulsed through the air, and they all bobbed their heads to the hypnotic vibe. Knowing the rhythm by heart, he stuffed the dark memories in his life into the hole where he’d pushed all the other messed-up experiences and focused on the gentleman’s wide-eyed expression.
Had his sexy new customer noticed the thickness behind his stretched white shorts? The way those eyes widened gave away the secret. Ah, two bets to one, the swelling behind that zipper had nothing to do with a balled-up sock.
Tingles sparked down his thighs when his toes finally tapped the rough tips of a pair of black boots. “Can I dance for you?”
Watching the man’s Adam’s apple bob before he nodded lent all the confidence anyone would ever need. Gavin filled his lungs and parted his knees, planted them on either side of Mr. Stranger’s lap, and gripped the back of the couch. Unruly silky waves tickled his cheek when he leaned forward.
“I can touch you, but you can’t touch me. Don’t grab my butt. Okay?” Jesus, he never wanted that to happen again.
Mr. Stranger cleared his throat. The guttural sound massaged the side of Gavin’s cheek, forcing him to dig his knees into the cushions.
Pauline lives in the Midwest with her hero husband, two handsome boys, one ornery cat, and a lovely Pitbull. She enjoys writing erotic romance for all readers. From MM contemporary romance series to LGBT fairytales, Pauline shares stories that she holds close to her heart. By day Pauline is a special care baby registered nurse and by night a hopeless romantic. She loves to travel to New Orleans twice a year to recharge her creative battery and enjoy a bag full of powdered sugar covered beignets. Sit down, relax and Laissez les bons temps rouler!
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