PRAISE FOR ERIN NICHOLAS
“Sexy and fun!”
—Susan Andersen, New York Times bestselling author of Playing Dirty, on Anything You Want
“Erin Nicholas always delivers swoonworthy heroes, heroines that you root for, laugh-out-loud moments, a colorful cast of family and friends, and a heartwarming happily ever after.”
—Melanie Shawn, New York Times bestselling author
“Erin Nicholas always delivers a good time guaranteed! I can’t wait to read more.”
—Candis Terry, bestselling author of the Sweet, Texas series
“Heroines I love and heroes I still shamelessly want to steal from them. Erin Nicholas romances are fantasy fodder.”
—Violet Duke, New York Times bestselling author
“A brand-new Erin Nicholas book means I won’t be sleeping until I’m finished. Guaranteed.”
—Cari Quinn, USA Today bestselling author
“Reading an Erin Nicholas book is the next best thing to falling in love.”
—Jennifer Bernard, USA Today bestselling author
“Nicholas is adept at creating two enthralling characters hampered by their pasts yet driven by passion, and she infuses her romance with electrifying sex that will have readers who enjoy the sexually explicit seeking out more from this author.”
—Library Journal, starred review of Hotblooded
“They say all good things come in threes, so it’s safe to say that this is Nicholas’s best addition to the Billionaire Bargains series. She has her details of the Big Easy down to a tee, and her latest super-hot novel will have you craving some ice cream and alligator fritters. This is a romance that will be etched in your mind for quite some time. The cuisine and all-too-dirty scenes are enough to satisfy, but the author doesn’t stop there. This novel may also give you the inkling to visit the local sex store—incognito of course. It’s up to you.”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews on All That Matters, TOP PICK, 4.5 stars
“This smashing debut to the new series dubbed Sapphire Falls is a cozy romance that will have readers believing that they’d stepped into the small Nebraska town and settled in for a while. This well thought out story contains likable characters who grow on you right away, and their tales will make you smile and want to devour the book in one sitting. Four stars.”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews on Getting Out of Hand
“The follow-up to the debut of the hot new series Sapphire Falls will wow readers with its small-town charm and big romance. This story teaches us that everything does happen for a reason and true love can be found even where one least expects it. The characters are strong and animated. It’s a complete joy and highly entertaining to watch the plot unfold. Paced perfectly, a few hidden surprises will keep bookworms up past their bedtime finishing this satisfying tale.”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews on Getting Worked Up, 4 stars
“The Sapphire Falls series has quickly become a favorite amongst romance readers because of its small-town charm and big-time chemistry between the lovable characters. This installment is extra steamy and the storyline captures the comedic yet sweet tale of country boy who meets city girl. Travis and Lauren’s banter is adorable!”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews on Getting Dirty
“If you are a contemporary romance fan and haven’t tried Erin Nicholas, you are really missing out.”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews on Getting It All
“The fourth installment in the Counting on Love series will sweep readers off their feet. It’s the perfect friends-to-lovers story with a little humor and a lot of steam. Cody and Olivia make a fantastic couple, and readers will adore their journey. Get your hands on this one ASAP!”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews on Going for Four, 4 stars
“Nicholas’s tendency to give her fans a break from the hot-and-heavy stuff by making them laugh every now and then is genius!”
—Romantic Times Book Reviews on Best of Three, 4.5 stars
ALSO BY ERIN NICHOLAS
The Sapphire Falls Series
Getting Out of Hand
Getting Worked Up
Getting Dirty
Getting In the Spirit (Christmas novella)
Getting In the Mood (Valentine’s Day novella)
Getting It All
Getting Lucky
Getting Over It
Getting to Her (book six companion novella)
Getting to the Church on Time (wedding novella)
Getting His Hopes Up (a Hope Falls Kindle World novella)
Getting Wound Up (crossover novel with Jennifer Bernard)
Getting His Way
After All
After You
After Tonight
The Bradfords Series
Just Right
Just Like That
Just My Type
Just the Way I Like It (novella)
Just for Fun
Just a Kiss
Just What I Need: The Epilogue (novella)
The Anything & Everything Series
Anything You Want
Everything You’ve Got
The Counting On Love Series
Just Count on Me (prequel)
She’s the One
It Takes Two
Best of Three
Going for Four
Up by Five
The Billionaire Bargains Series
No Matter What
What Matters Most
All That Matters
The Boys of Fall Series
Out of Bounds
Illegal Motion
Full Coverage
The Taking Chances Series
Twisted Up
Tangled Up
Turned Up
Opposites Attract
Completely Yours
Forever Mine
Totally His
Single Title
Hotblooded
Promise Harbor Wedding
Hitched
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2018 by Erin Nicholas
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503900660
ISBN-10: 1503900665
Cover design by Eileen Carey
To my family, as always. You are the reason any of this matters. To my sister, who took the first research trip to New Orleans with me—thanks for your sacrifice. To Lauren, who championed this book from word one and makes me smile with every text, email, and phone call. And to Lindsey and Liz, who are always on my side . . . I couldn’t do this without you!
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Read the next installment in the Boys of the Big Easy series. . .
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Chapter One
It was still amazing to Gabe Trahan how well Addison Sloan’s ass fit in his hands. It was as
if it had been made specifically for him to cup and squeeze as he pressed her close while he kissed her. Or when he was dancing with her. Or when he was thrusting deep and hard.
His body stirred at the thought of doing just that as she pushed her fingers into his hair and arched against him as if he hadn’t just given her two—count ’em, two—orgasms upstairs before she’d gotten dressed for work. But they were standing on the sidewalk in front of his tavern, and her cab was waiting. This was supposed to be a goodbye kiss, not a get-her-hot-and-ready kiss.
The problem was, not only did her ass fit his hands perfectly, but the rest of her fit against the rest of him pretty damned well, too, and it was extremely difficult to stop fitting against her once he started.
Addison pulled back a minute later, breathing fast, her pupils dilated. “I have to go.”
Yeah, he knew that. It was the second Monday of the month. That meant she was headed across town to the architectural firm where she was consulting on a once-a-month basis, to do whatever she needed to do there, and then she’d head to the airport to fly back to New York, and it would be another month until he’d see her again.
He leaned in, putting his nose against her neck, inhaling her scent. It was his favorite thing about her. And considering he knew every inch of her intimately, that was saying something. This woman had a lot of really nice inches.
“I know,” he said. “Just give me a minute.”
She sighed, her fingers curling into his scalp. The sound was almost wistful. “Shit,” she said softly. “This goodbye thing was supposed to get easier.”
Yeah, he would have thought so, too. In fact, he would have expected that by the sixth weekend with her, he would have been over her. Especially considering they didn’t really have a relationship. They had sex. And beignets. And jazz.
When she was in town, they stayed up all Saturday night having the hottest sex of his life. Sundays, they woke up late and spent the day in the French Quarter, eating and shopping and people watching. Then Sunday night, they burned up his sheets all over again. He loved showing her the classic New Orleans stuff—the café au laits and po’boys, the jazz bands on the street corners, the riverboats and the French market. She was addicted to it all. She couldn’t seem to get enough. And seeing it all through her eyes was like rediscovering it for himself.
But they didn’t talk about anything too personal, and they didn’t communicate at all in between her trips to New Orleans. All he knew was that she was a restoration architect from New York who had been consulting with a local firm on a big project in the Garden District. She came to town once a month on Friday morning, showed up at Trahan’s, the tavern Gabe owned and operated with his brother, Logan, on Saturday night, spent the rest of the weekend with him, and then went to the architecture firm again on Monday before heading back to New York that night.
When they were together, they talked about the food, music, and people around them at the moment. Occasionally they dipped into their interests and hobbies, their work, their friends to some extent, but nothing else. They kept it all in the moment, in the present, no talk of their pasts or their futures.
He had no idea if she had siblings, what her favorite color was, when her birthday was, or what kind of car she drove. But he knew that she loved sex against the wall, that she had a particular fascination with his abs, that jazz music made her horny, and that the sounds she made when he sucked on her nipples were the hottest things he’d ever heard.
And that was enough.
Or at least that should be enough.
She was a fling. A once-a-month diversion—that he thought about far too often in the time between her trips to New Orleans. A very fun way to spend thirty-six hours or so every once in a while.
She didn’t even live in New Orleans. They barely knew one another. He had no desire to go to New York City.
And yet, it was definitely getting harder and harder to say goodbye to her.
Hell, after the first night she’d come to Trahan’s with her friend and local architect Elena LeBlanc, and Addison had ended up in his bed for the weekend, he hadn’t expected to see her again. But the next month, almost to the day, she’d been sitting on the stool at the end of the bar. And he’d been shocked by how happy he was to see her.
“Quit your job and come waitress at the bar,” he told her now, pulling back and looking into her big brown eyes.
She laughed lightly. “You mean, quit my job and spend my days giving you blow jobs behind the bar while you serve drinks?”
It would have been playful and funny if he didn’t suddenly want that with an intensity that freaked him out. “Hell yeah,” he growled, lowering his head for another kiss.
It was, as always, long and hot and not nearly enough.
He started to back her up against the side of the building when her cell phone started ringing.
She pulled back and dragged in a deep breath. She stared up at him. “Damn, you’re good at that.”
“We’re good at that.” This was like nothing he’d ever felt before.
Addison continued to watch him as she dug her phone from her purse and lifted it to her ear. “Addison Sloan.” She paused. “Yes, that’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” She disconnected and smiled at him. “I have to go.”
He took a deep breath and stepped back, shoving a hand through his hair. “I know.” Fuck, he should be relieved that she’d gotten the call and had to get in the cab. That was how he would have felt with any other woman. But no, he felt irrationally irritated that she was being called away.
He took another step back. Maybe if he couldn’t smell her, he’d snap out of . . . whatever this was.
It was not okay that he wanted her to stay and that he wanted to see more of her. If she did live in New Orleans, he would have called this off a long time ago. It didn’t matter what her favorite color was or when her birthday was. He knew the important things—she was a New York City workaholic who, obviously, traveled extensively for her job. She wasn’t what he was looking for.
“So I’ll . . . see you,” she said, suddenly acting awkward.
Gabe tried with everything in him to seem nonchalant about that. No, dammit, to be nonchalant about it. “Yep, see ya.” He never asked when. He never confirmed that she’d be back the next month. He always bit his tongue before asking any of that.
“Thanks for . . .” She glanced up at the window to the apartment above the bar. “Everything,” she finished with a naughty smile that made him want to put her up against the wall of the building, taxi driver be damned.
“You’re very welcome.” He couldn’t help the half smile that curled his lips. God, this woman was the best hot-good-time he’d ever had. “And thank you.”
Her cheeks got a little pink, but she laughed and moved toward the cab. “My pleasure.”
Yeah, it had been. Heat rocked through him as he watched her open the car door, slip inside, wave to him through the window, then pull away, headed for the offices of Monroe & LeBlanc, the best restoration architects in town.
Gabe took a big breath and worked on pulling himself together. He’d never been messed up over a woman, and he wasn’t about to start now with one who could never be anything more than the best lay he’d ever had.
So what if her laugh made warmth spread through his chest? It also made his dick hard, and that was all that mattered. So what if watching her eat beignets made him want to pull her into his lap and hug her? It also made him want to hike up her skirt before pulling her into his lap so he could slide his hand up her inner thigh. And that was what he should focus on. So what if he really fucking wanted to know when her birthday was? He also wanted to know if she’d let him blindfold her in bed, and that was what he should be thinking about.
He yanked open the door to the tavern and stomped inside, pissed that he was upset that she had left. Of course she’d left. She fucking lived in New York City. He was her New Orleans fuck buddy. That was it. And it was really, really good. W
hy couldn’t he just be happy with that?
“Good morning, Sunshine.”
Gabe came up short when he realized that he wasn’t alone in the bar.
“I assume Addison just left,” Logan said from where he was perched at the bar, a cup of coffee to one side and paperwork spread out in front of him.
Gabe glared at his brother and headed around the corner of the bar and straight for the coffeepot. “What the hell are you doing here so early?” Gabe was the primary bookkeeper for the business. Not the big tax and employee payroll–type stuff. Their accountant, Reagan, took care of that. Gabe went over the weekend receipts and got the deposit ready for the bank on Monday mornings. He took care of inventory and ordering and paying the basic bills, while Logan was the one who dealt with repairs and maintenance on the building and appliances. They both handled issues with the employees, customers, and vendors. Truth be told, it just depended on the day and the issue, which of them was best at it.
“We have that meeting at one,” Logan told him. “I’m getting some of the stuff together that they want to see.”
“Meeting?” Gabe asked, turning with his cup of coffee and taking a long pull of the strong, dark brew. One thing he could say for his little brother—he made good coffee.
“With the architects?” Logan said. “The restoration? Remember?”
Of course he remembered. Well, he remembered that they were meeting with architects about restoring their building at some point.
“That’s today?”
“Yeah. In about three hours,” Logan told him with an eye roll. “Did she fuck you stupid or what?”
Gabe frowned. “Watch it.” Even though, yeah, it kind of felt that way. He couldn’t seem to focus on anything but Addison this morning. Still, he hated hearing Logan put it like that.
But he should be grateful to his brother for pointing out what this thing with Addison should be. Fucking. A fling. Orgasm central. Hot, no-strings-attached-and-thank-the-good-Lord-for-it sex. Something that he’d be getting over any fucking day now.
Instead, he found himself wondering if he should send flowers over to the office where she was today. That would be okay. It wasn’t like he was sending flowers to her home or something. That would be more personal. And he wouldn’t write anything sweet or romantic on the card. These would be thanks-for-the-two-blow-jobs flowers. Or you-do-cowgirl-better-than-anyone-I’ve-ever-met flowers.
Going Down Easy (Boys of the Big Easy) Page 1