💋😍 Sleeping With My Boss by Vivian Wood is Now Live!!!😍💋
A few do’s and don’t for when you take a summer internship on a yacht:
Do pack your medical supply bag (duh, you’re supposed to be the ship’s medic).
Don’t mingle with the ultra rich passengers who’ve booked the boat.
And definitely don’t hook up with the brooding, hot as hell captain.
Not even when the way he looks at you is intense enough to set you on fire.
As you travel up the Alaskan coast, the tight quarters may seem smothering.
Here is a tip: let the captain keep his secrets, just like you will keep yours.
Sure, the first time he breaks down and kisses you may throw a wrench in things.
And yes, you will end of naked and calling out his name on a few occasions.
But don’t start softening towards the big, angry man in charge.
And whatever you do, don’t you dare begin to fall in love with him…
My cheeks redden. I mumble into my glass. “Sorry. I… I got distracted.”
“By what?” he asks, casually flinging his hands around. “There is nothing here.”
My heart pounds. I look at him, biting my lip. Would it be so wrong to mislead him about this?
It would only be the tiniest white lie…
“I was thinking of how your lips felt on mine,” I say, turning red as a beet.
Gabe’s eyebrows rise. “Were you?”
I nod, keeping eye contact with him. His blue-green gaze pins me in place. When his eyes drop down to my lips, I can’t help but wet them.
It might not have been true before, but it’s definitely true now. I want him to kiss me again.
I want to feel the way his big hands span my waist, pushing me into his heavy frame. I want him to make me feel the way I felt that night in Vegas.
I want him to pull those sounds and sighed pleas from my lips again.
He moves forward, his gaze alight with carnal intent. Before he even touches me, I swear I can feel it; maybe those are the echoes of our night together, come alive in my imagination.
Gabe reaches for me, one hand slipping to my back, one to cup my jaw. He tilts my head up, his movements slow and decided. He bites his lip, looking at me.
Then he kisses me, so slowly that it’s torturous, so hot that I can barely breathe. At first, he merely brushes his lips against mine, leaving me wanting. I clutch his t-shirt, pulling him closer, seeking what I know is there.
My skin feels alive suddenly, buzzing with the sensation of power. Power that builds with every second his lips are on mine.
He presses his lips against mine, only to pull away again.
Making me hungry for him.
Making me ache deep down.
“Gabe,” I whisper, fluttering my eyes closed. “Please… just kiss me.”
He smirks for a second, then tilts my head just so. Reminding me that he is so much bigger than me, that he is the one with all the power here.
Then his firm lips find mine, slanting across them, so unbelievably warm and honeyed that I can only sigh against him. He deepens the kiss, only now letting his hunger show. He moves over me, his mouth traveling along my jaw, down the pale column of my neck, teasingly skimming my collarbone.
I can’t breathe. I can’t think.
All I know is that I want him.
Vivian likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.
Vivian’s lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: “Soulmates never die.”
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