Instant Gratification (Always Satisfied Book 2)
Page 1
Instant Gratification
Lauren Blakely
Contents
Copyright
Also By Lauren Blakely
About
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Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Epilogue
Another Epilogue
And One More Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Also by Lauren Blakely
Contact
Copyright
Copyright © 2019 by Lauren Blakely
Cover Design by Helen Williams. 1st Edition, 2019
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book. This contemporary romance is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This book is licensed for your personal use only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with, especially if you enjoy sexy, hilarious romance novels with alpha males. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author’s work.
Also By Lauren Blakely
Big Rock Series
Big Rock
Mister O
Well Hung
Full Package
Joy Ride
Hard Wood
One Love Series
The Sexy One
The Only One
The Hot One
The Knocked Up Plan
Come As You Are
The Heartbreakers Series
Once Upon a Real Good Time
Once Upon a Sure Thing
Once Upon a Wild Fling
Sports Romance
Most Valuable Playboy
Most Likely to Score
Lucky In Love Series
Best Laid Plans
The Feel Good Factor
Nobody Does It Better
Always Satisfied Series
Satisfaction Guaranteed
Instant Gratification
Overnight Service
Special Delivery
The Gift Series
The Engagement Gift
The Virgin Gift (coming soon)
The Exclusive Gift (coming soon)
Standalone
Stud Finder
The V Card
Wanderlust
Part-Time Lover
The Real Deal
Unbreak My Heart
The Break-Up Album
21 Stolen Kisses
Out of Bounds
Unzipped
Birthday Suit
The Dating Proposal
Never Have I Ever
The Caught Up in Love Series
Caught Up In Us
Pretending He’s Mine
Playing With Her Heart
Stars In Their Eyes Duet
My Charming Rival
My Sexy Rival
The No Regrets Series
The Thrill of It
The Start of Us
Every Second With You
The Seductive Nights Series
First Night (Julia and Clay, prequel novella)
Night After Night (Julia and Clay, book one)
After This Night (Julia and Clay, book two)
One More Night (Julia and Clay, book three)
A Wildly Seductive Night (Julia and Clay novella, book 3.5)
The Joy Delivered Duet
Nights With Him (A standalone novel about Michelle and Jack)
Forbidden Nights (A standalone novel about Nate and Casey)
The Sinful Nights Series
Sweet Sinful Nights
Sinful Desire
Sinful Longing
Sinful Love
The Fighting Fire Series
Burn For Me (Smith and Jamie)
Melt for Him (Megan and Becker)
Consumed By You (Travis and Cara)
The Jewel Series
A two-book sexy contemporary romance series
The Sapphire Affair
The Sapphire Heist
About
I need a fake date. She needs my late-night expertise. Now, if we can just keep our hands off each other...
As the premier best-man-for hire in all of Manhattan, I promise discretion, so when I need a plus one for a couple of "I dos," I turn to my gorgeous, clever, witty best friend's sister. She's my good friend, too, and I lust after her completely. I mean, I TRUST her completely.
After all, just look how she's kept her lips sealed about the hot, multi-O night we spent together. Yes, just look at those sexy lips.
In any case, we only fell off the wagon once, and it was months ago. I'm sure we can make it through these weddings without banging each other in the limo.
Or can we?
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Prologue
Jason
When you’ve had to tell as many “how we got together” stories as I have, you get a fair idea of the range of things a man will do to impress a woman, from thoughtful to absurd to downright unbelievable.
For starters, bro, did you really read Fifty Shades of Grey?
But that’s only number one on the menu of items guys will pick and choose from in an effort to elicit flutters from a new lady.
I know men who claim to love Pride and Prejudice. Even go so far as to say they’ve read the book. And maybe we do get that desperate to see what women see in Mr. Fucking Darcy other than an Englis
h accent. Which I have, by the way, but I still don’t understand the deal with Colin Firth any more than the next bloke.
I’ve met fellows who swear they don’t like football of any variety—American or proper—to reassure a lady she’ll never be a widow to the footie. Or they’ll turn off a match on the TV with so much drama you’d think they were giving up a kidney.
Or a man’s résumé will become suspiciously plump with female-friendly hobbies. Show me a single man in a yoga class, and I’ll show you a lad who’s trying to score major points with the fairer sex.
The next thing he knows, he’s shaving his chest, shaving his toes, and shaving his balls. Which must mean he’s serious about her because that shit hurts.
When it comes to manscaping, I think a trim here or there can go a long way, but go too far and you’ll look like a porpoise. And what woman wants to roll around in the sheets with Flipper?
But by far the worst case I ever saw was a guy who swore to his sweetheart that he loved Ed Sheeran’s music. Even followed Ed’s Twitter feed and read reviews so he could convincingly wax on about the ginger phenom. (The fella even planned to tell his bride that he wanted “Shape Of You” to be their wedding song. I put my foot down. Go with “Castle on the Hill.” “Shape of You” is too obvious, and women can see through that lie.)
As happy as I am that it worked out for these gents, especially after they pay my invoice as a specialty wedding service provider, it seems like a lot of work to keep up with all that—retweets, nether-region maintenance, or the pointless hell of football abstinence.
I understand why men want to show off for women. Women are like sunshine and whiskey, lilies and diamonds. They’re sex and desire and everything good in the universe. They’re lovelier to gaze at than a priceless work of art. Hell, women are better than football, better than pints of ale, better than the Rolling Stones and occasionally even the Beatles, though I will deny that blasphemy even under torture.
Women make a man’s merry-go-round keep turning, make life worth living. And they deserve to be annoyed if a guy who swore he hated football has a drawer full of Manchester United souvenirs.
There’s a fine line between putting your best foot forward and shooting yourself in it, and it’s my job to help the lead-footed of the world win women without losing them.
Damn shame, then, that the one woman I’d really like to impress is off-limits.
With good reason. With a long list of good reasons, in fact.
So off-limits is how she’ll have to stay, even when I learn she desperately needs my specialized knowledge to impress a new investor.
But wouldn’t you know—I need something from her too.
Badly.
That can only mean it’s time to impress the hell out of myself by resisting every single temptation to step out of the friend zone with her.
1
Jason
Her legs wrap around my waist, firm and tight. Her heels make a vise grip, tugging me closer between her thighs.
It’s the perfect position for countless naughty things. The possibilities are as vast as my filthy imagination is wide, and my imagination has won blue ribbons for its width.
Its depth too.
And its length.
Yes, it’s an award-winning dirty zone between my ears.
But down here? In real life? The breath rushes from my lungs as she squeezes.
Holy hell.
I. Can’t. Move.
I can barely breathe.
Truly Goodman has me pinned on the mat. She’s ferocious and strong, and there’s literally nothing I can do to escape her clutches.
“Nice work, Truly and Jason! That’s how you neutralize a bigger, stronger opponent. With a back mount combined with a choke hold.” The praise comes from the instructor.
Well, Truly’s definitely neutralized any chance I’ll be turned on in jujitsu class again, that’s for sure. The instructor gives the go-ahead for my opponent to relinquish her hold on me, and I’m both immensely saddened that the brunette unlocks her legs from my waist and also incredibly grateful I’m not about to die in the middle of this demo of a powerful grappling move.
Truly breathes hard as she heads to the water fountain in the corner of the studio and takes a long, thirsty gulp.
Water, yes. That’s a brilliant idea. I follow her to the oasis. “Have you registered those hands as lethal weapons, Truly? While you’re at it, license those legs too.”
She turns around, eyes me up and down, then wipes her hand across her mouth. “And yet you made it out alive. No worse for the wear.”
I glance down at my frame, considering her assessment. “We can have a go again if you’re interested in trying to cut off all the circulation in my body. I think you achieved a ninety percent shutdown, so why not go for broke?”
She pats my chest. “I’m always happy to take you down in class if you think your pride can take it. How much ego did that cut off?”
Scoffing, I answer, “Nothing I can’t spare, given its size.”
“Glad to see you’re not suffering from ego shrinkage.” She laughs, then nudges my elbow. “Thanks for being such a good sport. I’m going to take a quick shower since I need to head to work for a meeting. Are you going that way?”
I weigh whether to leave now, or loiter a bit and join her on her walk to Gin Joint.
Who am I kidding? Those scales will always have a Truly-shaped thumb on them. “Is fifteen minutes good for you?”
“Make it ten.”
True to form, she’s ready quickly, looking fresh-faced and sexy as sin in a short, painted-on skirt and a black tank top. God, I fucking love summer. It’s the greatest season ever invented by man. I mean God. God invented summer, obviously. Man just invented the clothes that go with it.
“So, we’ve established you can take any man, woman, or three-headed beast down in a dark alley,” I say once we leave the studio.
“That was my goal when I started training a few years ago. But don’t sell me short. Four-headed beasts are now on my takedown list too.”
“How about grizzly bears? Or, say, an anaconda?”
“Been there, done that. But listen.” We stop at a light, and she glances at me then takes a breath. Her tone turns more serious. “You don’t go easy on me in class, do you?”
I scoff and shoot her a you’ve got to be kidding stare. “Wait. You think I was going easy on you?”
She holds up her palms. “Just making sure you’re not one of those guys who thinks he has to soften things for a woman.”
“There’s nothing soft about me.” I take a beat. “As you well know.”
She rolls her eyes. She does that to me a lot, but I won’t say I don’t deserve it. “That’s not what I’m saying.”
“But it’s spot-on true. I’d never go easy just because you’re a woman.” I wiggle an eyebrow. “But let’s talk more about how hard you want me to be. Would you like me, for instance, somewhat harder, much harder, or oh my God, that’s so hard harder?”
“Oh yes, please. The latter.”
With a straight face, I answer, “Done. Consider it done.”
“And I’m glad you don’t treat me any differently because I have girl parts. I want to be tough-as-nails in this martial art.”
I rub my ear. “Sorry I didn’t hear anything you said after ‘girl parts.’ Everything else sounded like Take me home, Jason, and make me scream your name. Did I get that right?”
“Sure. That’s exactly what I said.” She laughs as we turn the corner, heading down a tree-lined block in the heart of Chelsea. “You’re relentless, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Not a bit of relent when it comes to some things. And along those lines,” I say, stroking my chin, “that position we tried in class—just wondering if it made you think of any other interesting positions.”
“Hmm.” She screws up the corner of her lips, as if considering. “Nope. Can’t say it did.”
“None at all? Wrapping your legs around me d
idn’t trigger any memory?”
We reach Gin Joint, the speakeasy-style bar she owns, though to call it a bar would do it a disservice. It’s an establishment with a full lounge, 1920s-style decor, and regular entertainment, including lounge singers. Her brother—my best friend—is one of those singers, and he helps draw crowds. Gin Joint has scored a place on more than one list of coolest theme bars in the city.
She stares at the sky, still bright even as the sun makes its trip toward the edge of the horizon. “I keep drawing a blank.”
“Want me to give you more hints, or just spell it out for you? Things you said. I mean, things you screamed.”
She stares at me for a beat. “We had an agreement. That all stays in the vault.”