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ISBN Print: 978-1-5092-1314-6
ISBN Digital: 978-1-5092-1315-3
Page Count: 270
Word Count: 63651
Book One in the Mocha Magic Series
After her parents are forced to sell their bakery due to the economy, Elizabeth Carpelli wants security, and that means a dependable man with a college education and a stable job. No matter that her degree in marketing is being wasted in a coffee shop. She wants it all. But then, with the help of her boss, and the most deliciously sensual chocolate, she discovers lust beyond her wildest dreams in a no-commitment arrangement with an uber fit carpenter—a blue collar worker.
Having his heart ripped in two by a cheating fiancée, Hank Lehman wanders into Mocha Magic to drown his sorrows in a steamy black brew. When the sweet and sassy barista gives him an offer he can’t refuse, chocolate body paint and a canvas of silky flesh with no strings attached, it may just help him forget his past and turn his future toward a more tasty adventure.
No-strings sex can be sweeter covered in chocolate…
“You aren’t looking for anything now. No relationship, I mean, right?” Elizabeth asked softly.
“No, definitely not. You aren’t either, right?” His voice was low, slow, questioning.
“No. Which makes this—” she started.
“No strings, right?”
“And this won’t have anything to do with our professional relationship, me as café manager, you as Lacey’s contractor, right?”
“Right. Nothing to do with it.” Hank stood and she swore a wave of pheromones cascaded over her. “Just an all sex, no strings, single moment in time.”
“Yes,” Elizabeth replied, trying to sound confident, but not too excited. “Okay. Let me lock up first.” Keys jangling, she locked the big front doors, then nodded toward the back room, glancing back to see if he followed. He was right behind her, jar in hand.
God, she needed it. This “test” for Lacey might not be fair. She was already so hot, so wet, so needy that one touch from Hank and she might orgasm immediately. Maybe, maybe if this was at all good, they might agree to have another no-strings moment next week or the week after.
Unlocking her apartment door, she pushed it open. His glance took in her nearly empty space, and he looked at her questioningly.
“I haven’t even unpacked yet. Just this.” She gestured at the microwave, one frying pan and paper plates. “All I have to sleep on is an air mattress and a sleeping bag.”
“I didn’t come up here for the furnishings.” He shrugged and focused on her. His lingering smile was longing, lustful. “Even a bed is optional, if you want to be adventurous.”
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