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182 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 2016

What red-blooded woman doesn’t have a fantasy of opening her door to find a gorgeous man carrying a tray of food? Delicious, delicious food, served on a silver tray, with tousled sandy blond hair and snapping blue eyes? That’s the man I’m describing, not the tray. And the man’s delicious in his own way, too.


“Ben,” I gasp, crying his name over and over as I ride him to my climax.
My body seems to fracture under the weight of the orgasm. I drag my nails down his shoulders as I moan, losing control of his name, my name, the whole goddamn English language as I come. The room goes upside down, the picture exploding as I come longer—and louder—than I ever have before. Ben throws me backward onto the bed, and with a last few thrusts, cries out as he finishes. Then we’re lying there, both of us panting for breath.
Jesus, even though he’s big enough to be crushing me, under Ben Williams is exactly where I want to be right now.
Eventually, we disentangle ourselves and lie back in bed, the sheets twisted and twined around us. Nothing beats looking out at a hazy, wintry New York City skyline when you’ve been freshly banged and are hovering on a cloud of good endorphins.
“How do you feel?” I ask Ben.
He waves his hand—so-so. But he also grins, the enormous, sexy asshole that he is. I swat at him and steal a kiss.
“I think that was good calisthenics.” His eyes scan down my body. “You’ve got to work off those mozzarella sticks somehow.”
“Oh?” I prop myself up on an elbow. “You want to be my personal trainer now?”
“Personal trainer. Room server extraordinaire. Hired date. Sex god.” He ticks all the titles off on his fingers. “Yeah, I’ll add one more position to the list.”
About five good ‘position’jokes get into a car jam in my head, so I have to move on. Can’t pick just one.
“Think you’ll be up for another training session soon?” I ask, kissing down his body. And by ‘up,’I of course mean…well, hello. Something’s stirring already down south.
Ben drags me down and rolls on top of me. Yeah, he’s really ready already.
“I haven’t been like this since high school,” he says, kissing my jawline.
“If I made a room service joke right now, would it kill your hard on?” I ask. He stops and ponders.
“I went a little half mast at the thought,” he admits. Another pause. “But it’s back. Keep going.”
So I get service again. With a smile.