PRE-ORDER & EXCERPT!!! He Saw Me First by Missy Johnson, writing as M Johnson, releases December 28!!!
It was one night in Paris with a man almost twice my age. I never thought I’d see him again. I was wrong…
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From across an empty lane in Paris, through my window,
He saw me first.
I stopped undressing . . . but only for a moment.
The next night, he was waiting for me, in his expensive suit
He sat there and watched.
My only acknowledgement was the look of lust in his eyes.
It continued until the night before I left,
when I found a card under my door.
No words. Just a number. So, I texted him.
I’d never done anything like it before.
It felt so dirty and wrong, but at the same time, I felt alive.
He was much older than me, so intimidating and sexy.
He made me feel things no man ever has.
I was under his spell.
The last thing I expected was to ever see him again…
Stopping outside the restaurant, Nate takes my hand and tugs me closer until our bodies touch. His eyes darken as he twists a loose strand of hair behind my ear, before pulling me in for a soft but persuasive kiss. I can’t deny there’s an attraction between us, I’m just not sure whether it’s worth risking our friendship over.
“Why would I be nervous? I’m just a friend meeting your dad,” I remind him.
“A friend with benefits.”
“Not that many benefits,” I retort, playfully slapping his arm.
His hand slides effortlessly from around my waist as he holds the restaurant door open for me. I walk inside and then let him take the lead.
“There he is—far back table,” Nate murmurs.
When I look up, our eyes lock, and I can’t breathe. I stop in the middle of the restaurant, unable to tear my gaze away from him. He stares right back at me, his expression unfaltering. The only reaction I get is a flicker of recognition in his eyes, enough for me to know he remembers who I am.
It’s almost a year to the day since our night in Paris, but I can still remember every tiny detail like it was yesterday. His soft touch, his warm breath against my thigh, the feel of his mouth as it pressed against my lips, how he made me come in ways I never thought were even imaginable . . .Everything about that night is instilled in my mind because it’s all I think about.
“Are you okay?”
Startled, I look at Nate when he touches my arm.
“I’m fine,” I whisper, even though I’m not.
“It’s okay.” Nate’s soft voice hums in my ear. He coaxes me forward, mistaking my hesitation as nerves over meeting his father. “You’ll be fine. I promise he doesn’t bite.”
Oh, I promise you he does.
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