By Jana Aston
Release Date 10-7-15
I have a history of picking the wrong guy. Gay? Player? Momma’s boy? Check, check and check.
Now I can’t stop fantasizing about one of the customers at the coffee shop I work at between classes. It’s just a harmless crush, right? It’s not like I ever see this guy outside of the coffee shop. It’s not like I’m going to see him while attempting to get birth control at the student clinic. While wearing a paper gown. While sitting on an exam table. Because he’s the doctor. Shoot. Me.
But what if, for once, the man I’ve had the dirtiest, most scandalous fantasies about turned out to be everything but wrong?
Wrong is a full-length, standalone novel by Jana Aston
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Jana Aston works a really boring day job. Really. Boring. In her spare time she loves to read sexy romance novels, especially if they involve an alpha CEO. Wrong is her first novel.
Luke flexes his jaw and rubs the back of his neck. It occurs to me now how stupid my fantasy crush was. This is the longest amount of time I’ve spent with him, and the only time without a counter separating us. Still, I can’t help being attracted to him. I know it’s wrong. Fucked up. Delusional. I’m already wondering if my future career will pay enough to cover the therapy I obviously need.
Marie is back and places something wrapped in heavy-duty plastic on the tray. The object makes a thud as she sets it down before taking up her seat beside the door again, sticking her face into an old copy of Good Housekeeping.
“Lie back on the table, Sophie.” Luke’s face is unreadable as he walks over to the exam table. He wraps a hand around my wrist and raises it over my head, his eyes passing over my face briefly before he sets my hand on the table.
His fingers move to the gown covering me. Do not be turned on, do not be turned on, do not be turned on, I chant to myself. I snap my gaze away and focus on the ceiling.
There’s a motivational poster on the ceiling right above the exam table. I burst out laughing just as I feel Luke’s hands on my breast.
“Sorry, are my hands cold?”
“No, your hands are perfect,” I blurt out without thinking. I think I detect a slight smirk on his face before I revert my gaze to the poster on the ceiling.
“The poster.” I gesture upward with my free hand. It strikes me funny that there’s a motivational poster on the ceiling. Like that’s gonna take my mind off where I’m at. Or is it meant to motivate me to stay on this table? I giggle again. Luke tilts his head and looks at the ceiling.
Shit, are my nipples hard? That’s normal, right? He’s not doing anything erotic, but his hands are on my breasts. Yeah, my nipples are hard. His fingers are flat against the sides of my breasts now. He’s rotating them around in what feels like a spiral pattern before lightly pinching my nipple. I have to stop myself from moaning a little. His hands feel good. I’m sure they’re not supposed to, but they do.