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It doesn’t have to be a best seller.
It doesn’t have to be something no one has ever read!
So why am I making this so damn difficult?
I need to focus.
To push past the writer’s block, the fear, the taunting rejection that they’ll all think this new book of mine sucks a big di**!
Am I allowed to say that?
Screw it, because I just did, and it totally does, at least in my mind.
I don’t need distractions!
Especially mouth-watering, panty-dropping, dirty talking, self-gratifying distractions.
Distractions that cause my breath to catch, my thighs to clench, my center to quickly dampen, and my brain to scream only two self-gratifying words.
Yes fu** please!
OK, that was three!
Never mind the fact that he’s my new boss.
Forget the idea that he corners me into a fake engagement – the first day we meet!
Ignore the obvious evidence that I can’t, for the life of me, stay away from Brettly Beckett!
And what’s more, I don’t want to!
And he doesn’t make it easy!
No, my lucky readers, he’s not backing down without putting in some very hard-to-resist, self-pleasure seeking, efforts.
Gifting me with the nickname Peaches, he makes it known he’s dead set on claiming my peach the first chance he gets, and the sooner the better.
But I quickly learn that’s a development that could prove too self-destructive if we let it.
After all, it’s like they say, not everything in life can be as sweet as a peach.
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