Sawyer, Rita - Her Mr. Wrong [What Are Friends For 3] (Siren Publishing Classic)

What Are Friends For 3

 

Her Mr. Wrong

 

Amy Dooley is no one’s fool. She knows Slade is out of her league. He’s slick, rich, and sexy as hell. Trouble with a capital T. There’s no doubt in her mind his interest in her won’t last longer than it would take for him to get her into bed. Slade’s insistent and finds ways to bring them together, and Amy doesn’t know how long she can keep pushing him away. Or if she really wants to.

 

Slade Jacobs hasn’t been able to get Amy Dooley out of his mind since the night he met her at his friend’s wedding. Of course, that could have something to do with the scorching kiss they shared. He needs to explore the desire he feels for her. Since she won’t see him willingly he has to get a little creative in finding opportune moments to run into her.

 

Genre:
Contemporary
Length:
24,937 words

 

HER MR. WRONG

What Are Friends For 3

Rita Sawyer

EROTIC ROMANCE

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

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A SIREN PUBLISHING BOOK

IMPRINT: Erotic Romance

HER MR. WRONG

Copyright © 2011 by Rita Sawyer

E-book ISBN: 1-61926-008-5

First E-book Publication: November 2011

Cover design by Jinger Heaston

All cover art and logo copyright © 2011 by Siren Publishing, Inc.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.

PUBLISHER

Siren Publishing, Inc.

www.SirenPublishing.com

Letter to Readers

 

Dear Readers,

 

If you have purchased this copy of
 
Her Mr. Wrong
 
by Rita Sawyer from BookStrand.com or its official distributors, thank you. Also, thank you for not sharing your copy of this book.

 

 

Regarding E-book Piracy

 

This book is copyrighted intellectual property. No other individual or group has resale rights, auction rights, membership rights, sharing rights, or any kind of rights to sell or to give away a copy of this book.

 

The author and the publisher work very hard to bring our paying readers high-quality reading entertainment.

 

This is Rita Sawyer’s livelihood.
 
It’s fair and simple. Please respect Ms. Sawyer’s right to earn a living from her work.

 

Amanda Hilton, Publisher

www.SirenPublishing.com

www.BookStrand.com

DEDICATION

To all the important people in my life, I won’t name names because you know who are.

 
HER MR. WRONG

What Are Friends For 3

RITA SAWYER

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Amy could feel him looking at her. Every time he started to approach her, she latched on to one of her friends and hit the dance floor. It was wrong to want to leave her one of her best friend’s wedding reception before the bride made her grand exit, but she was seconds away from bolting. And there were plenty of reasons that didn’t involve the slick, sexy stranger that had been stalking her for the past three hours, making her feel like a skittish little rabbit. Her feet hurt, she was tired, and she needed to call home before her brothers and father sent out a search party.

Even though she’d left them a brief note explaining her sudden disappearance, she knew they were probably going to go ballistic. Amy felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease and stopped dancing long enough to glance around the room. She didn’t see her hunter anywhere in sight. Had he left? She could only hope so.

Jillian took her hand and pulled her off the dance floor. “I need a break.”

“Me, too,” Amy confessed, sagging against the closest wall.

“I’ll get us some drinks.” Jillian headed off to the bar, leaving her alone for the first time that night.

Amy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as she stepped out of her shoes. She flexed her right foot, then rotated her ankle. It felt so good, she copied the motions with her left foot. The rest of her muscles begged to be stretched, too, but she wasn’t about to try and work all the kinks in front of a room full of people, ninety percent of them strangers. The massage she’d had earlier in preparation for the wedding was supposed to have soothed her aching body, and for a few hours, it had, but now it was protesting her every move. She wished she could go up to her room and take a long soak in the huge tub, but she had qualms about using a tub thousands of strangers had used before her, so she’d wait until she got home for the soak and settled for a nice, hot shower.

* * * *

Slade slid further into the shadows and watched the woman he couldn’t ignore. She practically melted against the wall. She was a beautiful bundle of energy, but it was clear to him she was worn out. Other than the fact that she was a very good friend of Lainey, and her name was Amelia,—which didn’t seem to fit— he knew nothing about her. It wasn’t from lack of trying. He’d subtly asked the other groomsmen about her, but none of them knew anything more than he did. Slade wasn’t about to interrupt Lainey and Jace to get info from them. The only option he had left was the one he considered the best, but every time he headed her way to introduce himself, she ran off.

He slowly made his way around the room, keeping himself out of her line of sight in case she opened her eyes. The closer he got, the more he felt drawn to her. He couldn’t explain it any better than that, no matter how insane it sounded. Slade chalked it up to part of the vibes, because everything about this trip had been crazy. When he finally reached her side, he leaned against the wall beside her. Slade was careful to keep some space between them. Her head came to his shoulder with her shoes off. He glanced down at them and noted the tall spike heels that had given him the impression of her being a little taller, not that it mattered in the slightest.

Even though she looked to be relaxed, he could see the tense way she held her shoulders and neck. He wondered for the reason behind it, but knew it was none of his business.

He leaned his head to hers and kept his voice low. “So are you done running?”

“I’m down to a slow crawl.” A smile curved her lips, though her eyes stayed closed.

He hoped that wasn’t the extent of her sense of humor. “Good to know. Would you like to sit down?”

“I’d love to, but I’m not sure I want to move.” Her soft sigh reached him, even though the DJ had another song blaring out of the nearby speakers.

Slade didn’t know what took over his mind, but he swept her up off her feet. Her eyes flew open, and she let out a squeal as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her over to a little couch that was nearby and set her down. Slade left her alone for just a few seconds while he retrieved her shoes. He dropped them to the floor, as he joined her on the couch.

“I’d like to cut right through the bull if you don’t mind.” When she nodded, he continued. “I’m Slade Jacobs. I’m self-employed and single. If you don’t believe me, you can ask Jace. We’ve been friends for about eight years, and he knows pretty much everything about me.”

“Okay.” She leaned forward and reached for her shoes.

He put his hand on her arm, and she stilled. “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me anything about you?”

Amy looked down at his hand, and Slade instantly let her go. He’d never laid a hand on a woman without knowing her before, and so far in the past ten minutes, he’d done it twice. He should have seen the huge, red flag waving, but he ignored it. She eyed him warily for a few seconds before leaning back against the cushion.

“Why would I?” she asked.

Now it was his turn to sit there and stare at her. All the reasons that ran through his mind would have only made her run screaming. He couldn’t tell her “I want you in my bed,” “something about you is calling to me,” or “I think there’s a connection between us, and I want to explore it more than I want to breathe.” They were all true, but they all made him sound like some deranged fool.

* * * *

Amy waited for him to say something. She’d given up on Jillian or one of her other friends coming to rescue her. They probably thought she was enjoying being hit on by Slade. God, even his name was sexy in a rakish sort of way. All right, she was woman enough to admit she had enjoyed the way he just picked her up and carried her away. And yes, for a brief second, she had wished he was carrying her off to bed.

That alone told her just how dangerous he was. She knew better than to get involved with a guy like him. Guys like him—slick, sexy, and, if his watch and ring were as expensive as she thought they were, rich—didn’t associate with girls like her. Of course, he didn’t know that right now, but if he saw her out of this dress and in her normal clothes, he wouldn’t even take a second look.

“I was hoping you would tell me a little about yourself. If you’d feel safer, we can talk on the dance floor.” He got to his feet and held out his hand.

She actually let him help her up and into her shoes. They made their way to the crowded dance floor where the rest of the wedding party was dancing. The song was slow. Slade eased her into his arms, pulling her close as he swayed gently to the music. Amy decided that for just the next few minutes, she was going to let herself enjoy being held by him. She rested her head on his shoulder.

“Amelia,” he said, roughly pulling her closer.

She couldn’t help but giggle at the sound of her name on his lips. “Amy. Only my grandmother calls me Amelia.”

“Amy. It fits you much better.”

Amy pulled back and looked up at him. She wasn’t sure who moved first, but suddenly her lips were pressed to his. He somehow managed to get them into a darkened corner where they wouldn’t be seen. With a wild turn, he had her back against the wall and his body pressed against hers. As their mouths plundered, their hands explored each other. His hand covered her breast, and instead of pulling away she actually arched into his touch. She could feel his arousal pressed against her and was impressed. If she was a different kind of girl, it would be so easy for her to let him to hike up her skirt and give them both what they wanted, but she wasn’t. Damn, this kiss was close to getting out of control, and though she loved the passion she hadn’t felt in so long, she knew it had to stop before they went too far. She pushed at his chest, and though he looked as confused as she felt, he took a step back. Just the few inches between them helped her to regain her senses.

“I need to get back to my friends. Jace and Lainey will be leaving soon.” Her excuse couldn’t have been any lamer, but it was all she had.

She dashed around him as gracefully as she could in three-inch heels. Just as she reached the dance floor, she spotted Lainey, who called her over. Jillian, Dianne, Sadie, and Karen were already there. A waitress appeared with a tray full of drinks, and Amy reached for one.

“I just wanted to make a quick toast.” Lainey lifted her glass high, and they all joined her. “To the best friends a girl could ever have.”

“Well, it wasn’t like we could let you live in
sin
forever.” Jillian flashed Lainey a teasing smile, and the rest of them laughed.

“You asked for it.” Amy, like the rest of her friends, looked at Lainey with equally curious expressions. “I was going to wait to do this, but since you guys delivered that little jibe, I’ve decided there’s no time like the present.”

“For what?” Amy asked, taking a sip of her drink.

“A dare.” They all stared silently, except for Lainey. It was her turn to laugh. “I dare you all to choose a man, and let yourself enjoy him.”

“What?” Sadie’s voice was a mere squeak.

“Come on. You guys aren’t going to be a bunch of cowards, are you?” Amy saw the way her friends’ eyes narrowed on Lainey, and she knew she had them. “Just pick a guy you want. Doesn’t matter who he is, just go for it. It doesn’t have to be forever.”

“You’re serious?” Karen’s tone was full of amusement.

“I am.” Lainey nodded. “Now, who is woman enough to take me up on it?”

“I’m in,” Amy said, hoping whoever she chose would wipe Slade and his delicious kiss out of her mind forever.

It was followed by a chorus of, “Me, too.”

“Good. You have six months,” Lainey said as they clinked their glasses to seal the deal, “and the one who comes in last, or chickens out, will be the first one I ask to puppy-sit.”

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