Working at a law firm comes with its own set of rules, and Blaire has broken rule number one. Consorting with the opposition could get her fired. In the blink of an eye, all of her hopes, dreams, goals, and aspirations could be dismissed.
She knows this.
Joel, EJ—whoever he is—is the enemy. Persona non grata. Her mind is aware of his standing. But her body? Not so much. It remembers every moment shared. Every flirty smile and witty comeback. Every whispered word with carefully placed hands.
Falling into bed with him was easy. Getting him to stay away will be the hardest thing she’s ever faced.
Shut Out releases November 23rd
**Book 2 in the Just This Once Series**
Shut In: 11/9
Shut Out: 11/23
Shut Off: 12/7
Book 1 Shut In
I moaned his name, aware of how my breasts vibrated against his chest with that one syllable, one word. Joel wore his restraint like a thinly veiled armor, the slight tremor of his chest displaying the lust he could barely contain. I knew what he was waiting for. It was the same thing that stopped me from climbing him right there in the elevator—the elevator could stop at any time before making it to the ninth floor.
Clutching his hair, I held him in place, taking control. If we were doing this, I wanted to be present and participating for every bit of it because as soon as the moment washed away like ships set to sea, I knew I would be done.
I was quenching a thirst; that was all. It was just something, anything to hold me over. The throb may have started between my legs, but every day I woke up, it seemed to consume more and more of my body until it seemed like if my chest were open you’d be able to see the bruising with your own eyes.
“I’m trying to keep this decent, but god I want to worship your pussy with my tongue and taste the juices I know are already waiting for me. Do you feel the heat?” He took my hand in his and I watched fascinated by the difference in the size of our palms. I forgot what it felt like for him to do something as innocent as hold my hand, but there was nothing innocent about what he was doing at that moment. He shoved my hand and his between my legs, and I felt the inexplicable heat that washed over our hands like steam rising from manholes on a New York winter day.
“Tell me that’s for me. Tell me I’m not alone in this. I need you,” he groaned, and I felt the weight of his body finally give way to mine, relinquishing all of the torment that he’d endured at my rejection of him.
The elevator slowed and it was as if time stopped as the doors peeled opened. Joel looked at me with an intense need in his eyes. A look that one night wouldn’t be able to snuff out. This was all I was giving him, so before the doors could close I took his hand in mine and escaped, dashing out into the corridor that stretched endlessly before us.
“You’ve got thirty minutes.”
The words had barely left my lips before he was yanking me down the hall to room 913.
“You’re killing me with the time limit, but I can make my pretty bird sing in less than five minutes. I’ll make do.”
Cee Smith is a lover of the written word. Since first learning how to string a sentence together, she’s been putting pen to paper and hasn’t looked back. Though she’s no longer obsessed with blood and gore, the dark side still calls to her, often finding refuge in her current writings. Her addiction to reading is what finally inspired her to take a chance at publishing.
A California native, currently residing in North Carolina with her husband. She loves salacious stories, true love and forbidden romances—the more angst the better. Other than reading and writing, some of her other obsessions are peanut butter (don’t get her started), Michael Fassbender, and watching tv.
She loves talking about the creative process and what books she’s reading, so feel free to shoot her a line. Or if you just want to say hi that’s fine too. She swears she’ll respond.