Backhand by Elise Faber

Author:Elise Faber [Faber, Elise]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Blue Tulip Publishing INC
Published: 2017-04-03T04:00:00+00:00

WHOEVER HAD COME up with the concept of wooing was a giant asshole.

Mike had Sara exactly where he wanted her. They’d both slept late, and he’d called her mid-afternoon to take her to a late lunch on the waterfront.

Since it was crab season, they’d had their choice of the freshly cooked crustacean before picking up a loaf of sourdough from Boudin’s and walking down the backside of Pier 39.

The sea lions were in full force, barking and flopping around on the floating platforms as kids looked on laughing.

They’d found a relatively quiet corner to eat their lunch before heading back to his place to sack out and binge on Game of Thrones.

She’d never seen it, and he was tired of Max bugging him about the “best-show-in-the-history-of-all-shows,” so they took the plunge together.

Three episodes and they were still going strong.

What was also going strong was his erection.

That particular part of his anatomy could rival those granite statues in Italy.

Sara was curled up against his chest in the media room, cuddled close even though his couch was huge. Not that he minded, except that he’d read the book from Brit on the flight back to the city, finished it after he’d returned home the previous night.

And falling into bed too soon had been the theme of Chapter Twenty.

The main scene in which Brit had underlined repeatedly, writing a giant No! in the margin of one page and Romance! in the other.

Both of which he’d screwed the pooch on.

Game of Thrones wasn’t particularly romantic, now was it? And the sex part… Shit, he’d fucked — literally — that up as well.

Though the sea lions had been a nice touch, he thought.

“What’s wrong with you?”

Mike blinked. “What?”

“You’re all stiff and formal.” She popped him on the chest. “When a girl is lying here, she likes to be held. Yes?”

He hadn’t even realized that his hands were at his sides instead of around her. He quickly remedied that. “I’m sorry, I just—”

And he shut up because what was he going to say? He’d read a romance novel to try and win her over?

Yeah, not happening.

Sara shifted so she was straddling his lap. The television backlit her body, highlighting the blond of her hair, the pale ivory of her skin.

She was so fucking beautiful.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” she asked, soft, but there was a layer of steel beneath the words.

No way would she let this go without a straight answer.

And didn’t she deserve that much?

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Her lips parted, breath hiccupping as it slid through. “I want to do this right, and I’m fucking it all up.”

“Okay, overthinker,” she said, “I thought we agreed to give this our best shot. So tell me how you’re fucking it up. The romantic walk by the bay? The ice cream and sketchpad? The way you’ve held my hand, touched my back, stroked my cheek?” She smiled and pressed a kiss to his mouth. “You’ve been romancing me, and I appreciate it.

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