Will
an unexpected encounter leave Sharon's heart hijacked?
When Sharon Blake meets Kyle Phillips her first instinct is to simply seek the
pleasure she's certain he can give her. But surprisingly, she feels a strong
connection with him, something she's never experienced before, and that
conflicts with everything she's always believed—sex is sex and nothing more.
The last woman Kyle trusted with his heart betrayed him, and he has no interest
in getting involved with anyone. There's only one problem—now that he's met
Sharon, he craves her touch, her laughter, the look in her eyes when he pulls
her near.
Kyle and Sharon soon realize that being apart isn't an option. Someone else,
though, has different plans for Kyle, and Sharon is left questioning everything
he's told her. Kyle tries to explain, to make things right again, but Sharon
doesn't know if she can trust him, and her instinct is to walk away now before
her heart is bruised even further.
Content Warning: strong language and graphic sex
Excerpt:
The small blonde waitress placed a third beer on the table in front of him. Her
breasts were at eye level, nipples looking tight as stones poked at the thin
material of her top. The first time Kyle saw her behind the bar he knew she
would be hard to forget. Lucky for him, she was his server.
"Two-fifty," she said, smiling. "Are you gonna drink
those?" She pointed to the full bottles in front of him.
"Waiting for some friends. Check back with me in a few minutes." He
handed her a five dollar bill. "Keep the change."
"Thanks." Her chest swelled, perfect mounds inches from his face. The
light blue v-neck, lace top she wore was held up by thin straps. It was cut
low, giving him a peek at what lie beneath. As she turned and sauntered to the
bar, he couldn't help but stare.
She propped her elbows on the countertop and leaned over. Her round butt in the
air had him practically salivating, and no matter how hard he tried, his eyes
would only divert for a second before finding their way back to her.
He watched as the bartender handed her a shot and she tossed it back. As if she
sensed him gawking, the waitress turned her head, propping her chin on her
shoulder, and grinned.
Leaving the bar, she walked straight over to him, taking a seat in the chair
next to his as though it were hers all along. "Why are you watching
me?" she asked matter-of-factly, which made him cough in surprise. Was it
that obvious? "You ordered at the bar first, right?"
"I…um," he stuttered and gave up on an explanation.
She smiled again, most likely at catching him off guard. He decided drinking
the beer in front of him wouldn't be a bad idea and grabbed one of the bottles,
chugged half, and sat it down. He eyed her with curiosity and pressed his
sweating palms against his jeans.
Say something! "How long have you been here?"
She arched her left eyebrow. "You mean as in, tonight?"
"Working here, as in days, weeks, months, years."
"A few weeks." She crossed one leg over the other, hiking the already
short, black skirt up her thigh, exposing more of her silky skin. Her eyes
narrowed. "I'm on my break."
"And you chose to spend it with me?"
She shrugged her right shoulder and picked up a pack of cigarettes from the
table he hadn't noticed her put there when she sat. She lit one, the flame from
the lighter making it possible for him to notice her eyes had a green tint to
them. "Your table is empty."
He playfully scoffed, amused at her excuse. There were at least six unoccupied
tables in the room. "When does the band start?"
She looked down at her watch. Silver with rhinestones, it fit loose like a
bracelet. "In about an hour. They start at ten. What's your name?"
He drank another quarter of the beer. "Kyle Phillips. You?"
"Sharon Blake." She reached up and pulled her long hair from the back
of her neck and let it fall. "Is this your first time here? I've never
seen you around. Are you from Pineville?"
Kyle cleared his throat. She was making observations, asking questions. He'd
been divorced for three months, but this was his first time at a bar since
meeting his ex-wife nine years ago, and he wasn't certain if he should explain
his situation—a fresh divorcĂ©. He decided to go with direct answers. "I
live about three miles outside of town. And no, I don't get out much."
"Huh." She tugged on the cigarette and then snuffed the rest of it
out in an ashtray at the center of the table. "I'm trying to quit."
"Six years smoke free for me. It was one of the hardest things I've done."
She eyed him carefully. "Are you meeting someone?"
"A friend. He should be here any time." Kyle peeled his gaze from her
and scanned the growing crowd through the dimly lit room, suddenly hoping his
friend didn't show for a while. He gulped more beer. "How long are you on
break?"
"I've got a few minutes." Her eyes moved over him and he wondered how
evident it was that he wanted to taste her skin. "Why do you ask?"
"I thought I might get you something to drink. But then, if you work
here—"
"My drinks are free." She laughed and reached for his stash of
untouched beer. "Do you mind?" The waitress…Sharon…didn't wait for an
answer before popping the top and taking a sip. "Kyle Phillips, I need
your help."
About the Author:
Sidda Lee Tate has spent most of her life creating stories. Writing is one of
her great loves, with romance and eroticism being her specialties. Whether her
words make readers cry or laugh or just downright hot, she is proud to take
people on a journey with her characters. Sidda Lee lives in a small town in
Arkansas with her husband and son.
Thanks Ella!
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