N.Y.E. Read online

  "Yeah, that must have killed you. You're as much of a micromanager as I am."

  "You don't know me well enough to make that comment."

  "I think I know you pretty well," he said, voice dipping low, the sound shivering through me, reminding me just how well he did know me.

  "That is different," I insisted even as he moved in closer, my ass nestling into his pelvis, his scruff teasing over the skin of my neck.

  "Spent more time with you than any woman before," he admitted.

  "That's kind of sad."

  "It's a compliment."

  "All we did was fight."

  "We were getting to know each other."

  "It's not normal to fight with someone every time you interact with them."

  "So... maybe I really didn't give a damn about ceramic plates or shades of black or the font on the invites. But the only time you open up is when you're riled."

  "You called my shoes plastic." I clearly was still not over that.

  "I'm an asshole sometimes."

  "You don't sound apologetic."

  "That's because I'm not," he said with what sounds like a smile on his lips. "And, for the record, they were plastic. These ones are much better. Not," he cut me off when I started to snap, "because they're expensive, but because they look less likely to fall apart and make you break an ankle. If you're going to invest in an expensive item in your wardrobe, it should be on your shoes. Especially if you are on your feet a lot."

  That was fair enough.

  It had been hours and my feet still didn't have blisters. In my old shoes, I would already have had several Band-aids on my heel or toes to try to make it through the night.

  "They're comfortable," I begrudgingly admitted.

  "Why didn't you call me back? Or text me back for that matter?"

  "What? I didn't have any missed calls or texts from you." And, as much as it killed me to admit it even to myself, I had been glued to my phone in case he did reach out.

  "When your ass didn't show up on Sunday, I called. And texted. And called again. And, babe, I am not that guy."

  "I dropped my phone," I told him as my belly fluttered a bit at the idea of him frantically trying to get in touch with me. "Down three flights of stairs. I couldn't get a new one until this morning. What did you say?"

  "That maybe it was premature, that it was unlike me, but I want to give it a go."

  "Give it a go," I repeated, trying not to shiver when his lips teased over my neck.

  "You. This."

  "I'm going to need more than that."

  To that, a low chuckle moved through him. "All about that fine print, huh? How many times did you read over the employment contract before you signed it?"

  "Six. But that has nothing to do with this."

  "Look, Sage, I'm not a relationship guy. Or, I never have been. I don't need to wine and dine women. And..."

  "I get it. You're a whore. I don't need the details."

  One of his hands left the railing, closing around my lower belly, holding me to him. "And because I don't have experience with it, I can't make any promises."

  "No one can give any promises," I told him, finding that the divorce rate among the weddings I had done turned me a bit cynical about forevers.

  "But I want to give it a try. The wining and dining and all that shit."

  All that shit.

  My lips tipped up.

  And I maybe leaned backward into him a bit.

  "We're from different worlds."

  "Yet we're a lot alike."

  "It's probably doomed to fail."

  "Probably," he agreed, but he was smiling as his arm squeezed me tighter. "Now, you ready to come back to a little, private room with a locked door?" he asked, making my belly go liquid.

  "Yes," I agreed, laughing when he whirled me away only to grab my hand and practically drag me with him, slamming and locking the door before pressing me against it, his lips sealing over mine as his hands roamed - up my sides, over my breasts, down my belly, my thigh, then snaking inward and up, pressing his fingers against the swatch of material between my thighs, dragging a ragged moan out of me, a sound drowned out by the party just a few feet away from us, playing out on the screens to our side.

  His hand shifted and the material tore, falling carelessly to the ground as he pulled me with him over to the couch, lowering down, situating me on his laps, my hips dropping down to feel his cock pressing against me.

  As my lips sealed over his, my hips dipped and circled shamelessly, getting something I had been trying to deny it.

  There was no exploring this time, no getting to know hot spots, getting to exploit them, drag it out.

  Our mouths and hands were greedy.

  My dress pulled down in front, his lips closing over my nipples as I moved against him, stoking both our desires until we couldn't take it anymore.

  He protected us.

  I took him in.

  "Ride me, baby," he demanded, jerking his hips upward into me, making me let out an almost pained whimper.

  My hands planted on his shoulders as I started to ride him - a bit uncertainly, shyly at first, growing harder and faster as the need in my body demanded it, as his hands moved down my back to sink into my ass, coaxing me.

  Outside the room, all the voices chorused at once.

  Ten.

  Nine.

  Grant's hips started to move in circles as my hips thrust down, making my walls tighten impossibly hard.

  Eight.

  Seven.

  "Fuck," Grant growled, his hand sliding to my hip, holding me still as he started to piston up into me - hard, fast, not giving my body a second for the orgasm to recede.

  Six.

  Five.

  Four.

  Three.

  Two.

  "Come baby," he demanded, voice tight.

  His hips slammed upward.

  And I shattered apart.

  "Fuck, Sage," Grant gasped as my walls spasmed around him, as he came with me.

  One.

  My body collapsed forward into him, my face buried in his neck as the waves crashed through me over and over until I was completely spent, a boneless weight against him.

  "Happy New Year," he said in a quiet voice, his hand moving up to stroke through my hair.

  A bubble of laughter rose up and burst out, making me press back to look down at him, finding a smile on his lips, his eyes still heavy, his breathing still as uneven as mine.

  "Now that is a way to ring in a new year," I decided.

  "Sounds like you'd like to make it a tradition."

  And I did.

  And he did.

  And so we did.

  XX

  DON'T FORGET!

  Dear Reader,

  Thank you for taking time out of your life to read this book. If you loved this book, I would really appreciate it if you could hop onto the retailer of your choice and tell me your favorite parts. You can also spread the word by recommending the book to friends or sending digital copies that can be received via kindle or kindle app on any device.

  ALSO BY JESSICA GADZIALA

  If you liked this book, check out these other series and titles in the NAVESINK BANK UNIVERSE:

  The Henchmen MC

  Reign

  Cash

  Wolf

  Repo

  Duke

  Renny

  Lazarus

  Pagan

  Cyrus

  Edison

  Reeve

  Sugar

  The Fall of V

  Adler

  Roderick

  The Savages

  Monster

  Killer

  Savior

  Mallick Brothers

  For A Good Time, Call

  Shane

  Ryan

  Mark

  Eli

  Charlie & Helen: Back to the Beginning

  Investigators

  367 Days

  14 Weeks

&n
bsp; Dark

  Dark Mysteries

  Dark Secrets

  Dark Horse

  Professionals

  The Fixer

  The Ghost

  The Messenger

  STANDALONES WITHIN NAVESINK BANK:

  Vigilante

  Grudge Match

  OTHER SERIES AND STANDALONES:

  Stars Landing

  What The Heart Needs

  What The Heart Wants

  What The Heart Finds

  What The Heart Knows

  The Stars Landing Deviant

  What The Heart Learns

  Surrogate

  The Sex Surrogate

  Dr. Chase Hudson

  The Green Series

  Into the Green

  Escape from the Green

  DEBT

  Dissent

  Stuffed: A Thanksgiving Romance

  Unwrapped

  Peace, Love, & Macarons

  A Navesink Bank Christmas

  Don't Come

  Fix It Up

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Jessica Gadziala is a full-time writer, parrot enthusiast, and coffee drinker from New Jersey. She enjoys short rides to the book store, sad songs, and cold weather.

  She is very active on Goodreads, Facebook, as well as her personal groups on those sites. Join in. She's friendly.

  STALK HER!

  Connect with Jessica:

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JessicaGadziala/

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  <3/ Jessica