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“Hi, Sleeping Beauty.” She grins my way.
“Sorry about that. I can’t remember the last time I just fell off.”
“You obviously needed it. Feel better?”
“Tons. Thanks. How about you?”
“Great. I love drinking alone.” Her smirk says she’s poking harmlessly at me again. “But you gave me time to finish the dishes, do some laundry, read War and Peace…”
“Stop,” I groan. “Three hours is a long nap. I admit it. You going to ease up now?”
“When teasing you is so fun?” She raises a brow. “What do you think are the odds?”
Shitty. “How can I make it up to you? If you want to hop out of the pool and come to my bedroom, I’ll do my best to put a big smile on your face.”
“I’m intrigued,” she admits. “But in between chapters of the sad Russian saga, I Googled you. You’re, um…a big deal.”
I feel heat rush to my face. I’m used to people talking about me, but I’ve never been completely comfortable with it. “I’m told I was. But like I said, I’m retired now.”
“Hall of Famer, for sure.”
“So my agent assures me.” I shrug. “I’m trying not to linger in the past. I still have a lot of life to live.”
She splashes around a little more. “I don’t know. You’re practically ancient compared to me.”
Is this woman going to rib me about everything? Probably. And I still think it’s oddly adorable. It’s way more entertaining than the bowing, scraping, and yes-sirring I’ve been hearing for years. “How much older?”
“Almost nine years. When you were graduating from high school, I was starting junior high. These days, do you need vitamins before sex or a little blue pill?”
Now she’s laughing, and I find myself smiling in return. “Fuck you.”
“That is the idea…”
“Come here, baby.”
Her eyes sparkle under the moonlight, and it’s all I can do not to jump in after her, clothes and all. I want my hands on her now.
“Why don’t you drop trou and come in after me?”
“You’re all wet.”
She purses her lips together, and I know she’ll make one hell of a sexy bad girl. “Don’t you want me that way?”
The way I feel now? Every day, all day. “Just your pussy. That should be juicy and swollen and ready for my cock. The rest of you shouldn’t be wet unless I’m making you sweat in pleasure.”
“You sweet talker, you…”.
More Than Want You, Book 1
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More Than Need You (More Than Words, Book 2)
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Shayla Black is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than fifty novels. For nearly twenty years, she’s written contemporary, erotic, paranormal, and historical romances via traditional, independent, foreign, and audio publishers. Her books have sold millions of copies and been published in a dozen languages.
Raised an only child, Shayla occupied herself with lots of daydreaming, much to the chagrin of her teachers. In college, she found her love for reading and realized that she could have a career publishing the stories spinning in her imagination. Though she graduated with a degree in Marketing/Advertising and embarked on a stint in corporate America to pay the bills, her heart has always been with her characters. She’s thrilled that she’s been living her dream as a full-time author for the past eight years.
Shayla currently lives in North Texas with her wonderfully supportive husband, her teenage daughter, and two spoiled tabbies. In her “free” time, she enjoys reality TV, reading, and listening to an eclectic blend of music.
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