by Meghan Quinn
“Come here,” Henry pulls me on his lap so I’m facing him, his hands on my legs, his back against the headboard supporting him. He takes me in and sighs, head tilted to the side. “You’re so goddamn beautiful, Rosie.”
I cup his cheek, loving this man so much. “You’re such a good man.”
“You make me a good man.” His hands find their way under my shirt where he gently strokes my skin, his touch immediately turning me on.
“I miss you.” I press my hands against his shoulders and rock a few times on his lap. In seconds, I can feel how hard he is through my thin bed shorts.
“Rosie”—he breathes heavily—“what are you doing?”
“You started it with your wandering hands.” I rock on him again, causing him to hiss between his teeth. “Oh God, I miss you so much.” I move my hands to the hem of his shirt and pull it up and over his head, tossing it to the side. Immediately my hands fall to his chest where I explore his hard and thick pecs. “You’re so hot, Henry.”
“Rosie,” he gulps. “We can’t do this.”
“We can dry-hump, right? That’s not against the rules.”
His breathing pauses. “Fuck, can we?”
“I think so and who cares? I need this. I need you.” With that, I pull my shirt over my head revealing my bare breasts. That’s all it takes. Henry pushes me back and hovers above me, his erection tenting his shorts, enticing me to spread my legs wide. He lowers his hips to mine and presses his length against my center.
“Wait,” I say, pressing my hand to his chest. “Take my shorts off. I only want one layer of clothes between us.”
“Are you sure? I’m not going to hurt you?”
I shake my head. “No, please, I want to be naked for you.”
I want him to explore my body, to feel the new curves I’ve gained since pregnancy and experience this new side of me.
“Fuck.” He pushes his hand through his hair and then pulls back so he can pull my shorts off, baring me to the sweet night air. For a few beats, he sits back on his legs and observes me against the stark white comforter. The cool fabric electrifies my skin, adding to the yearning pulsing through my body. “Shit, Rosie, your tits are huge.” He reaches forward and pulls one into his hand where he gently massages it.
I writhe beneath him. “They’re so sensitive, Henry, be careful.”
“Fuck, I want to suck your nipples, it’s my favorite thing to do, but I’m guessing your tits are off limits right now.”
Hating that he’s right, I nod. “I think we need to leave them alone. I don’t want you to get . . . sprayed in the eye.”
He chuckles and starts to move his hips against mine. “True. What about small circles?” With his index finger, he moves it carefully around my nipple, sending a thrilling shock of pleasure straight down my spine where it pools between my legs.
“Yes.” I breathe heavily, shifting against the comforter, my hips seeking his, but he doesn’t move closer. I can feel the drape of his shorts against my aroused center, teasing and tempting me. “Henry, please, it’s been so long for me, please, just hump me. I can’t stand the torture any longer.”
His eyes darken the moment my hand reaches down and slips inside his shorts. He pauses and then wraps his fingers around my wrist, releasing me from his shorts. I’m about to protest when he presses his hips to mine and starts to thrust.
“Oh God, yesss.” My head lulls back and my hands fly above my head, gripping the comforter below me. “Just like that, Henry. I’ve missed your cock.”
Lowering his mouth, he whispers into my ear. “I’ve missed this, you, seeing you turned on. Fuck, Rosie, I can feel how wet you are through my shorts. You’re so hot, so goddamn perfect, and you’re all mine.”
He moves his hips in long hard strokes, grinding into me, thrust after thrust while one of his hands plays with my breast, making small circles. His mouth collides with mine, his hips pump against mine, his short breaths sync with mine.
“Fuck, love, where are you?”
“Right . . . there,” I cry out as my orgasm hits me faster than I expected and with the sheer force to knock me out. He rides out my orgasm, intensifying his thrusts until he stills above me and spills himself, relishing in his own pleasure.
Arms straddling me, he cracks his eyes open and takes a look at me. “Christ,” he utters in awe. “Can we . . . can we do that again?”
I chuckle and wrap my hands around his neck. “Are we going to have a hump-a-thon?”
He nods and lays his body against mine. “I think it’s necessary to figure out all the positions we can dry-hump each other tonight . . . you know, for research.” He winks.
Always researching.
I slam my car door, sprint up the sidewalk, and bust through my front door like a woman on a mission.
And I am on a mission.
A rather important one.
“Henry?” I call out, looking for the man on my mind.
“Kitchen.”
I bypass baby toys, a swing, and every other contraption a baby really doesn’t need until I make it to the kitchen. Leaning against the counter, arms crossed, a huge smile on his face, looking sexier than ever is my soon-to-be husband. For a second, I soak him in, questioning once again how lucky I am to be in love with my best friend.
“Hey, love.” His smirk practically melts my pants right off me. “What’s that paper in your hand?”
I wave it and dance up and down. “I’m cleared, we can have all the sex.”
After a week of dry-humping every night, sometimes twice a night and in the morning, I’m about to lose my mind. Dry-humping is great, more than great, but holy motherfucker. Try dry-humping your sexy-as-hell fiancé for a week and not become hornier than you were before. This morning, the tension between us could have been cut in half with a knife and handed out as breakfast. Every side glance, every light touch, it was all foreplay. The entire last week has been seven days of bottled-up sexual tension and the bottle is about to break.
He steps forward, a saunter in his stride. He takes the paper from me and puts it down, then picks me up at the waist and sets me on the counter.
I rub my hands together. “Counter sex, I like it. Honestly, I don’t care how we do it, as long as there is penetration. Christ, Henry, I want your dick in me as many times as possible.”
He chuckles and instead of tearing off my clothes, he goes to the fridge. It’s seven thirty, and my parents have Kellan for the night, for obvious reasons. Throughout the day, I expressed his next two feeds, which means I’ll be back before six for his morning feed. My boobs would seriously explode otherwise. Gah. I’m hoping my tits are dry just in case Henry wants to play with my breasts a little more.
“Oh, you want to eat things off my body? Sure, what did you have in mind?”
He pulls a box from the fridge and brings it to the counter. Hand on my thigh, he says, “I have something for you.”
“Please tell me that’s a cake with a picture of your dick on it?”
He laughs and gives my thigh a squeeze. “Not quite.” He flips the lid open and reveals a cake but instead of a picture of his dick, it says “Congratulations on 5,000.”
Confused, I look to Henry and ask, “Five thousand what? Five thousand hours of no penetration?”
With mirth in his eyes, he shakes his head at me and cups my cheek. “You’re so clueless, Rosie, and it’s one of the reasons why I love you so much. Congratulations on five thousand sales. Your book, it hit five thousand sales this morning. I’ve been watching it, paying attention. You’re killing it, babe. You’re doing it.”
“Wait. What? I sold five thousand books?”
“Yup, and I couldn’t be prouder of you.” Leaning forward, he captures my mouth with his, our tongues immediately tangling as our hands pull off our clothes.
I can think about my apparent success in a bit, but right now, I need to have this man, this thoughtful and beautiful man.
Epilogue
HENRY
“Fuck no,” I answer Derk, as we both stand at the altar watching Delaney walk down the aisle, tears in her eyes and a happy smile on her face. She blows me a quick kiss and stands to the side.
At the rehearsal last night, she pulled me to the side and told me how happy she was for Rosie and me and then collected on her bet from college many years ago. Freshman year, after Rosie went off to her room to sleep, I stayed up late with Delaney, and we made a bet. She told me I was going to end up marrying Rosie. At the time, being the dipshit I was, I told her it was crazy, because there was no way Rosie liked me. She bet me one hundred dollars, so guess who had to pay up?
Best bet I’ve ever lost.
Because look at me, look at how lucky I am. The sky is clear, the temperature is perfect, we’re surrounded by our closest friends and family with twinkle lights dangling over us. I’m head over heels in love with the woman about to walk down the aisle and couldn’t be more grateful for being blessed with her in my life.
In a shirt, tiny bow tie and slacks, Kellan—our ring bearer—comes down the aisle in Rosie’s friend from work, Jenny’s, arms. Tears fill my eyes from the mere sight of the miracle I created with Rosie. Our life might have been a whirlwind over the last year, but I wouldn’t have changed it for anything.
Everyone stands and an instrumental version of My Girl plays over the speakers, as Rosie walks down the aisle in the prettiest fucking dress I’ve ever seen.
I can’t hold back, I lose it. Tears stream down my face with every step she takes. Her hair is pinned up with a small veil covering one eye, and she smiles at me. Those lips I love are coated in red, and that smile is shows me that a particular shade of red is going to be all over my body tonight.
I give Mr. Bloom a firm handshake before taking Rosie’s hands in mine. She reaches up and dabs my eyes with her handkerchief.
“You’re gorgeous, Rosie.” She smiles shyly. “I’m so fucking lucky.”
Leaning forward, she whispers, “I’m the lucky one.”
We exchange vows and listen to Freddy—yes, Freddy was our officiant—talk about the heartfelt and everlasting love we share, barely making it through his own tears. He’s all show, he has a heart of gold, and is a teddy bear despite his giant physique.
With our friends and family surrounding us on the dance floor, Kellan being passed from grandparent to grandparent, we join hands for our first dance. The music is a low strum on a guitar and I pull my girl in close, whispering in her ear. “You’ve made me the happiest man on this earth.”
“Just wait until tonight.” She leans back and wiggles her eyebrows. “I have some new things I want to try with you, some things I read in a book.”
“Why am I not surprised?” I ask, pressing another kiss to her forehead.
“Because you know me too well, Mr. Rosie Bloom.”
“Excuse me?” I pull back, unable to hold in the chuckle that rumbles up my chest. “Mr. Rosie Bloom?”
“Oh, you’re not taking my name?” She smiles devilishly.
“Not a fat chance in hell. I’m making you mine.”
“What about my author name?”
I press a kiss against her nose. “Call it your pen name, but from here on out, you’re Mrs. Henry Anderson.”
She sighs into my chest and rests her head against the lapel of my jacket. “I couldn’t think of anything more perfect.”
I grip her hand tight and say, “Are you ready for this?”
“Couldn’t be more ready.”
Just as the beat picks up, I twirl Rosie away from me and immediately go into the swing dance routine we choreographed for our wedding. But instead of fighting for her attention on the dance floor—while puffs of white baby powder fall out of her—I have Rosie to myself. The air is clear of itching powder but full of love.
This woman—the one smiling at me and laughing as I twist and turn her in front of our clapping friends and family—is loving, naïve, quirky, and so fucking gorgeous. It’s no surprise she stole my heart and captured my soul. It’s no surprise I’ll love her forever. But this I also know, even forever won’t be long enough.
THE END
THE SECRET TO DATING YOUR BEST FRIEND’S SISTER
Releasing January 3, 2019
PROLOGUE
BRAM
I have a stupid as shit crush on my best friend’s sister. I know the exact moment it happened too.
It wasn’t when I first met her, no, that was when I first found out she liked to wear tube socks with shorts. Nor was it the second time I ran into her, because she was a sour, bitter woman with an attitude that struck me dead in the nut sac. But even in her scary rampage, I thought she was pretty and interesting, but a crush? Not so much.
No, it happened many times after the first. I was a senior, she was a sophomore in college. A nervous sophomore who forcibly ventured out to yet again another frat party, captured by her friends and held hostage to have a good time.
She was a fish out of water and I couldn’t help but keep my eyes fixed on her as she awkwardly bumped into drunk assholes and tripped over empty beer cans, fixing her glasses that kept being displaced from the perfect perch on her nose.
She was unlike any girl I had ever met. Strong willed, obnoxious at times with her intelligence, cunning, and never too scared to back down. She intrigued me, held my attention, made me want to know what was spinning around in that beautiful head of hers.
But I had to find out.
That night, the night that followed many nights of getting to know her, it changed everything. Maybe it was the beer coursing through me, or the sheer curiosity in the girl who looked completely and utterly out of place, but I was drawn toward her. I knew, in that moment, that I had a choice to make, either continue to sit with Lauren Connor and listen to the boring as shit stories she was annoyingly spouting off, or I could remove my ass from the leather of the couch and go say hi to Julia Westin.
Can you guess what I did?
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Standalone Contemporary Romance
(A friends to lovers contemporary romance)
The Secret to Dating Your Best Friend’s Sister
Co-Written with Sara Ney
(A sexy, smart, heart swooning romance)
Love Sincerely Yours
The Perfect Duet
(A heartfelt romance that will leave you breathless)
The Left Side of Perfect
The Right Side of Forever
The Blue Line Duet
(An epic romance with many twists and turns)
The Upside of Falling
The Downside of Love
The Dating by Numbers Series
(Adventurous dating series full of laugh out loud moments and very heated scenes)
Three Blind Dates
Two Wedding Crashers
Back in the Game
One Baby Daddy
The Binghamton Series
(Full of heart, humor, and heat and some HOT CONSTRUCTION WORKERS)
Co-Wrecker
My Best Friend’s Ex
Twisted Twosome
The Other Brother
Standalones
(Full of heart, humor, and heat and some real laugh out loud moments)
The Mother Road
Newly Exposed
Dear Life
The Romance Novelist Series
(Hilarious, laugh out loud romantic comedies)
The Virgin
Romance Novelist
The Randy Romance Novelist
The Stroked Series
(HOT sports romance with plenty of humor)
STROKED
STROKED LONG
STROKED HARD
The Bourbon Series
(Sassy, erotic romance with a gorgeous, protective alpha male)
Bourbon Sins
Bourbon Deceit
Bourbon Kingdom
Bourbon Truths
The Love and Sports Series
(New Adult, college football forms into professional football careers. Love triangles.)
Fair Catch
Double Coverage
Three and Out
The Hot-Lanta Series
(My first series ever. Baseball sports romance with lots of drama!)
Caught Looking
Playing the Field
Warning Track
Hit and Run
The Warblers Point Series
(Three Irish brothers, their younger sister, and the drama they get into. Love triangles. Book three still to come.)
Beers, Hens and Irishmen
Beers, Lies and Alibis